#i just got off a good but really busy shift and ive been having medication mood swings and now im having mouse feelings. in a better world

[theworldiswhispering]

I want to cry mice are so sweet and we cannot have them in the house. Have you ever stared into the docile black eyes of a mouse whose spine has just been crushed by a trap, body still warm and soft but heart not beating? You cannot be here and yet you will keep coming so we will only ever keep meeting this way until the end of time? I will never see you until your last and painful moment?

[battlegroundofdreams]

6

Chapter 5

Morpheus goes looking for answers...

Frustrated at being stopped from going inside the Dream Ward, Morpheus pulled his communicator out from the inside pocket of his jacket and tried to get ahold of Melinoe.  There was no answer.  He did not leave a message.  He tried sending her a text communication, and kept his communicator in his hand as he paced the hallway waiting for an answer.  The only issue was, there was no answer coming.  After what felt like too long to Morpheus, he tried calling her again.  When he once more got her voicemail, this time he left a message asking her to call him immediately.  Then once more sent her a text communication.  The longer it went without hearing from her, the more he was convinced she was on the Dream Ward, and that the only way he was going to get answers was to get past that guard, one way or another.  He just had to figure out how.

One hour, two, three…the time stretched on with messages left for Melinoe, Krios, and Andromeda.  None of them were returned.  This only served to cause Morpheus’ anger level to rise and his teeth to grind.  The guard at the door seemed to be keeping his hand on his weapon more when Morpheus was on the leg of his pacing where he was stalking down towards that end of the hallway.  Morpheus couldn’t really blame him, he really did want to bounce him off the walls and strangle him until he got answers.

Sometime in hour four, Morpheus had an idea.  Slapping his badge against the pad outside the elevator, he called one and went to the Medical Ward.  If he couldn’t get an answer from the Dream Ward, there was one other person who might have an idea what was going on with Melinoe on the Dream Ward.  While the Dream Assassin that they had on the gurney had been badly injured, nothing had looked fatal.  Hopefully she would be awake and able to give him some answers.  His rank and years on in should get him some answers before anyone started answering questions.

*****

“Agent Morpheus,” he flashed his badge, “I need to speak to the young female agent who was brought up here from the Dream Ward, where is she?”  The look he was giving the nurse was making her shift uncomfortably as she looked up the information.  This was not a friendly request, he was certainly making it look like business.  Good, she wouldn’t feel the need to inform anyone he’d been here either.

“She’s down in room six, sir.  She should be awake now.”  The nurse gave him a nervous smile after conveying the information.  He nodded and headed down the hall.  Hopefully he could at least get some kind of answer now.  If not, things down on the Dream Ward were about to get very damn ugly.

Taking a deep breath, Morpheus rapped his knuckles against the door to the room.  There was a small female voice from inside that told him to enter.  Here went nothing.

The female agent in the bed looked even smaller than when she had been wheeled by.  There were dark circles under her eyes, multiple IV lines, and monitors were hooked up.  She couldn’t have been more than a year out of the Academy, and something had worked her over hard.  She had an angelic face, and looked far too innocent to face some of the things he’d seen over the years.  Morpheus was thankful to the gods that he had not been paired up with an agent like her.  

“Ma’am, I’m Agent Morpheus.  I came to check on you, and see what you could remember about what happened on the Dream Ward that landed you here.  Do you feel well enough to talk?”  He instantly saw the signs of recognition at his name, that was positive.  At least he didn’t have to explain that, which meant his name alone would get him somewhere with her.  This at least was a positive step.

“Yes, sir.  I’m Agent Rua.  I assume my partner, Agent Lorien, is still down on the Ward?  I remember them saying something about Agent Melinoe was going to have to go help him?”  Her eyes scrunched up, brows coming together as she tried to remember.  Everything after coming out of the realm of dreams was hazy.  “I don’t remember much from being on the Ward before they brought me up here, I’m sorry.”  She sighed heavily.

“Ma’am, please relax.  Do not stress yourself out.  There is no need to remember everything at once.”  She’d already told him enough, he now knew where his partner was, but he wanted just a little more information. The poor girl had been through enough, he wasn’t there to put her through more.  He kept being struck how with her big grey eyes and angelic face she looked more like a doll than an agent who should be fighting Nightmares. “Do you remember what happened in the dream where you got hurt?  You came out of the dream, but Lorien didn’t.”  That was the only thing that he could figure out for why Melinoe would have to go in and help him.  That was an unusual case, something he’d only heard murmurings of.  It didn’t give Morpheus a good feeling.

“Yes,sir.  There had been a warning that the pair of Nightmare Assassins that Agent Melinoe had faced on her last mission, the ones that so badly injured her, those…one of them was thought to have survived.  I don’t know how she ever took on two by herself, let alone did enough damage they thought both were dead, but they had. We were told what to look for, Lorien and I even trained for it.  We went through the Academy together and were even friends before that.”  There was a smile and a blush that told Morpheus that at least on Rua’s side there was more than a friendly attraction to Lorien.  It wasn’t his business, but he hoped it didn’t get one of them killed.  Romance was risky in their profession, especially if you were teamed up together.  “But what we faced, sir, it was so intense.  There were demons and dragons all around us.  It was like some fairytale dungeon coming to life and attacking all at once.  Lorien and I were doing good at fending them off, but we weren’t making any headway.  I thought we were going to die.  Then, all of a sudden, I could tell I was out of the dream and there was yelling and screaming,” Rua started to get upset, tears forming in her eyes as she spoke. It was clear that whatever they had faced was terrifying.  Then a sort of calm came over her, “then I felt this comforting presence next to me and heard this calm female voice telling me to relax, that my part of the battle was done.  She would finish the fight.”  She looked up at him, a different type oe tears brimming in her eyes, “she was so calm, sir.  It made me feel relaxed and like it would all work out alright.  She took charge, said she was going to go help Lorien. Then it all got confusing and they wheeled me out.” 

“Thank you, Agent Rua.”  Morpheus inclined his head.  “Please rest and do not worry about your partner.  He is in the very best hands he could be.”  With that he exited the room and headed back to the elevator.  He was going back down to the Dream Ward and he was getting in there if he had to shoot the guard and kick Krios’ ass personally.  What kind of monstrosity were Melinoe and some rookie up against?  He had to agree with Rua, if that is what one of them was like, how in the bloody hell did she come close to defeating two of them on her own?  Her illusions must be damn powerful in dreams.  Hopefully they’d keep her alive till he could get to her.

banner: @cafekitsune

[isekai-crow]

Doctor Elise Ep 3-4

I cannot express enough how fun of a potato chip this show is. I had a fever this week and this was a great lil show to watch that didnt require me to think.

As a self proclaimed shonen bro whose not normally into shojos, I enjoyed the manga, and the anime is doing a good job despite not being one of the "big names". It might also be my love of medical dramas from the early 2000s peaking in. I can turn my brain off to watch it and just have fun by going "WTF w h y", and poking fun at how broken some aspects of this world are while still thoroughly enjoying it.

It's definitely the kind of show that probably won't hold up to scrutiny for the world building, so. Just. Don't think too hard about the specifics of what's happening! Then the power fantasy pieces won't break through your suspension of disbelief! Because IV bags did not exist during the Crimean War in the 1800s which seems to be where this fantasy setting is taking place.

But I'm gonna go and point out all the broken bits below because its so much fun (not bashing at all!).

Also my favorite boy shows up! Doctor Graham!! We love a boy whose not there to be a rival or love interest, and respects the Lady and they get to be bros!

Look at this silver haired ponce of a bishonen, he's delightful, ascot and all!

He's voiced by Hosoya, Yoshimasa - Rainer Braun from Attack on Titan, Nezumi from NO.6, WOLFWOOD FROM THE NEW TRIGUN STAMPEDE!! Tokoyami from BNHA, and Sousuke from Free!

DAMN THEY PICKED A GOOD VOICE FOR MY BOY.

More spoilers/screen shots below the cut!

Elise shows up for work as Rose at the No Cultural Touchstone For Mother Teresa Hospital, the genius young doctor Graham is supposed to take care of her but he's busy and assumes like everyone else that a young well-off lady will run from the sight of blood soon enough, and so sticks her in the HOSPICE WARD.

HHMMMM I WONDER WHY ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE ON THEIR DEATH BEDS???? COULD IT PERHAPS BE... UH... SANITARY REASON?? SHOULD HOSPITALS BE SANITARY??? NAHHHH THE DIRTY ROTTING BANDAGES ON THE FLOOR AREN'T MAKING THINGS WORSE, NO WAAAAAAAAY.

These poor overworked shift nurses seem to have no idea what they're doing, but thankfully we have a returner with concepts of modern day sanitation who cleans the place up!

She then finds a dude with bed sores and realizes no one knows what SEPSIS IS, and is like. Get me a scalpel, it's my first day, I've never held a scalpel in my read:this life, I'M DOIN' A SURGERY TODAY. I'VE GOT GALAXY BRAIN TO HELP ME.

I love these shots they're great.

SHE PROCEEDS TO CUT INTO THE DUDES BACK LIKE SHE'S DRAWING FREE FORM SELECTION ON MS PAINT AND THEN JUST HITS CTRL-X DELETE.

That's not A tissue, that's HIS (necrotic) tissue! I sure hope this dude has pain killers or is drunk off his ass with vodka because DAMN.

All the other in-patients are so happy she's here, they feel better already with her bright and happy personality! Normally this would feel really creepy and sexist, but this juuuuuust squeaked by as not coming off that way.

Jump cut to the King! Only 12 people in this world know what diabetes is! How is Elise going to get away with having known about it?? Probably more hand waving!!

Now, we either get a time skip, or she's literally been working all night, but Dr. Graham walks in on her dozing, thinks he's got the wrong place, and proceeds to scold her for performing surgery without permission. But then he takes her on rounds and we're in a medicial show!!!!

IS THAT A FUCKING IV BAG?

IT IS!!!! THOSE WEREN'T INVENTED UNTIL THE LATE 1800s!! At least its a glass bottle, and not a plastic bag like I initially assumed?? But I guess the Crimean War was in the 1850s and this type of open glass bottle IV was from the 1900s so... Wooo Fantasy Europe!! -waves hand rapidly to shoo you on-

This man is having a time trying to figure out what the fuck. But he's pretty.

It takes him a bit to come to terms with her abilities but then he's just so happy to have another Doctor Bro who Actually Cares that he's behind her with full support! Which yay! But also becomes a tool of sorts, to kind of hand wave away the concept of sexism in the medical field to the point where it doesn't seem to exist. Which is also what makes this such a light show, because it doesn't even try to handle said topics, it just erases them completely with regards to medicine.

Equal numbers of men and women as doctors! The women aren't relegated to nurses! Yay! No critical thinking needed here.

My favorite part of this though, is that they DO tease at it. When Elise makes a different call from the doctor she's following in Ye Olde ER, he kind of stutters and is flabbergasted and panicked, while the female doctor is immediately like, I GOTCHU SIS, and steps in to help her as she proceeds to STAB A DUDE IN THE CHEST WITH A SYRINGE.

She's so pretty with blood on her face.

We're in episode 4 by this point, and its the "Festival Episode" common to many isekai romance manhwas, but of course, Elise is a doctor and so she's working the ER instead of attending.

However this is the episode that proves there is magic in the world, and WE GET A SECOND VA FOR THE PRINCE. He transforms into "Lord Ron". We also get a glimpse of his tragic back story!

His bodyguard gets a knife pulled on him and THEN A GUN. New Technology Discovered: Guns! I should hope they had those figured out before IV tech, but you think they'd know about general sanitation being important as well.

Dude's been shot in the SPLEEN!!! OW MY SPLEEN! They don't have a splenectomy in Fantasy Europe, oh no!

Elise puts up such a persuasive argument, and the dude is dying, so they might as well let her try to save him. And look, the prince Lord Ron has field surgery experience and offers to help!

SUDDENLY THERE IS ELECTRICITY. WHAT WERE THOSE OIL LAMPS IN THE GRIMEY DEATH WARD???

MS PAINT SCALPEL FTW!! It's not bad for the limited time they likely had to anime each episode, and the fact that they're putting more emphasis on the conversations. For comparison, this scene in the manga ↓

Surgery is a success! Yay! Elise is asked to write up a report abotu the surgery as it will be the first ever recorded splenectomy.

and then. Blushing Prince is Adorable, even in disguise. Love us some blushing boys.

But by far the most accurate part of this show so far...

Even in a Fantasy Europe Hospital the doctors have shitty handwriting lmfao

[macgyvermedical]

I feel like US television producers/writers are really missing out on something by not setting a TV show on an actual hospital med-surg unit with nurses as the main characters.

I'm talking about a scrubs-meets-superstore type of dramedy:

Half the nurses have (a) particular room(s) they won't go into because they watched someone die bad(TM) in it. One nurse is milking this and it makes it impossible to do the assignment chart.

Two of the nurses on night shift are having an affair. It's been going on for two years, exclusively at work, they've definitely had sex at work multiple times, both are married. Beyond the occasional casual mention and visual gag of them making out in the supply closet, it virtually never comes up. That's their business.

The hospital is scrubs-level normal hospital looking. There's at least one ceiling tile missing. The wall paper is 50 years old and has nicotine stains. It's certainly not whatever fancy-ass hospital House works at.

In a striking reversal of all other hospital shows ever, none of the residents and only about half of the attendings have names. They only show up about five minutes a day anyway. In theory they're real people but we know literally nothing about them.

Someone is screaming. Constantly. Every episode. Sometimes it's for help. Sometimes it's for lettuce. Usually it's just a patient with dementia masturbating really loudly.

There's an old nurse(TM) named Celeste or something. She is 78. Probably. She has a bad hip and a three strike rule when it comes to alarms. As in- if you're A+Ox4 and you are the direct cause of the beeping, she will reset the alarm for you exactly twice. If you mess it up a third time you get to beep until the end of her shift. It's not like its bothering her.

Celeste has the worst pottymouth of anyone you've ever met.

There's one token cis male nurse who exists solely for the female gaze.

There's another male nurse and he's trans. Everyone knows it except the one Extremely Christian(TM) nurse, and they all make gender-y jokes at that nurse's expense.

There's one nurse who's super power is to extremely accurately predict the amount of urine in someone's bladder.

Black Humor. Black Humor everywhere....

An entire episode devoted to the ethicality of cramming uneaten patient food when you're starving and you've got 6 hours left in a shift where you know you're not going to get your government mandated break.

An entire run about one nurse's extremely long dry spell of being totally unable to successfully insert an IV.

An entire episode dedicated to trying to scare the nursing supervisor with patient situations, only for the situations to pale in comparison to everything else the nursing supervisor has had to deal with so far that night.

Visual gag of every call light going off simultaneously at 6:55.

Someone pooped in front of the nursing station. Again.

Someone pulled off their telemetry monitor. Again.

Everyone looking at the monitor at the nurse's station trying to figure out if it's really V-Tach or just artifact from the bed vibrating.

An episode devoted to administration expressing their needs for the nurses to have better customer service, followed by a series of impossible situations in which "better customer service" would actually kill someone.

Psychogenic Seizure Girl(TM) is back.

Every single patient on one nurse's assignment is a full-code gomer.

Multiple gags of what actually happened (patient asked nurse what part of africa she was from before attempting to hit her with a dignicare bag and quoting bible verses) and what it said in the chart (patient used racially and religiously-charged language during assault with medical equipment).

A family member accidentally hit the code button.

A family member purposefully hit the code button but the patient was just in a lil pain.

A die good(TM) vs die bad(TM) episode that encourages viewers to be specific about what they want to happen when it's their turn to go.

A visual gag about 18 family members crammed into a room, all silently watching the nurse. Their heads move in unison. The tension is palpable.

[dinosaurtsukki]

dating the port mafia’s medic

a/n: basically headcanons of port mafia members dating one of the organization’s medics who happen to be you. i just thought this would be cute and i’m craving fluff. also these are,,, really long.

feat. akutagawa, chuuya, and odasaku

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

you were the doctor that mori specifically assigned to him to help with his lung condition

even though akutagawa was supposed to have regular, weekly sessions he’d only come in like,, twice a month and that was after you texted mori that he hasn’t been visiting you

akutagawa isn’t all too comfortable with the fact that he has to take off his shirt so that you could put him in an x-ray gown or when you need to listen to his breathing with a stethoscope

but you’re incredibly patient with him and also the pay is good so you persist

at one point during one of your sessions, akutagawa grumbles about having to come to the clinic when he just wants to live long enough to make dazai proud

and you’re like ‘is that so?’

“personally, i’d feel kind of sad if you had to die so early”

that kind of gets akutagawa thinking. he can tell by the way you said it that you had no ulterior motives behind it

akutagawa: but,,, i'm your most troublesome patient

you: oh my god you think you're troublesome ??

you start to rant abt all the patients you had to treat before who didn't believe in vaccines or got their elbows stuck in weird places

akutagawa finds your stories really entertaining so he ends up enjoying and willingly going to his sessions with you

after that first fight with atsushi, you ended up taking care of akutagawa and patching up his body 

literal days of you just being at his bedside, worrying and hoping that he'll wake up and then you suddenly realize that maybe you have feelings for him

when akutagawa regains consciousness, he finds that he doesn't entirely hate the situation he's in because he gets to see you more often

he likes listening to more of your stories while you sit at his bedside. eventually he opens up with stories of his own (most of them are abt his missions so yeah)

akutagawa begins visiting your clinic more and one day he comes in even though he doesn't have a session and then agonizes over why the heck he did that

good guy senpai chuuya is basically all 'idk are you in love or something?'

to akutagawa it's utterly unacceptable and he hides his feelings for so long until you're the one who decides to confess to him

and to your surprise, he hesitantly asks if maybe you two would like to be in a relationship

you two are awkward about it at first. akutagawa doesn't really know if drinking tea at your clinic could be considered a 'date' but he does like these moments

both of you have pretty hectic schedules since m your patients are also mafia members and you have to be on-call all the time but akutagawa is really understanding

he likes seeing you in casual clothes but he also thinks you look good in a labcoat (he probably borrowed it when you were not looking to try it on)

because akutagawa has grown quite accustomed to your touch and initiates holding hands with you (in private ofc)

he's still not used to the idea of you taking care of him not just as a doctor but as his s/o but it makes a nice change for once

chuuya nakahara:

the first time he met you was after a mission when he was taking one of his subordinates to the emergency room of the infirmary

you were the doctor on-duty that night and the first time chuuya laid his eyes on you he was like 'damn'

who knew the mafia doctors were this hot amirite

ofc you were also kind of starstruck to see mafia executive chuuya nakahara in the emergency room but you had a job to do and a man was losing blood

you: what's his type?

chuuya: uh,, h/c hair, beautiful eyes, labcoat...

you: i mean... his blood type

chuuya's got it bad. after that night he couldn't stop thinking about that cute medic aka you

but he didn't even know what your shifts were so he LOOKS FOR YOUR CASE FILE IN THE RECORDS

it's like he's gonna commit a murder or something but no he's looking for information on you

the guy’s pretty impressed when he looks at your resume and definitely sees why you were hired to be a doctor at the mafia but that only makes him want to see you more

but questions is, how does he make it look like he was just ‘passing by the infirmary’ and not that he’s actively looking for you

tsundere boy is tsundere

because chuuya almost NEVER gets injured in fights and he’s got a reputation for that and now does he get himself injured on purpose just to see you?

well, the opportunity presents itself in the form of him and dazai fighting cthulhu aka lovecraft but we all know its cthulhu 

chuuya wakes up on a hospital bed to you checking in on him and he almost falls off the bed in shock

but then after he gets his bearings he realizes what an IDEAL SITUATION THIS IS

although it’s kind of hard to flirt with someone when you’re in a hospital gown with an IV infusion stuck to his arm

nonetheless, he finally decides to ask you out after his last day of treatment and you’re shocked of course but agree

although your first date ends up being rain-checked because a patient comes in a new mission for chuuya comes up

actually almost all your dates get rain-checked until after a mission, chuuya decides to visit your clinic with a bouquet of flowers just when you get off your shift

chuuya: are... you free?

you: yeah. are... you free?

both of you are too tired for a fancy restaurant date so you two end up at a cozy bar to share a drink

chuuya loves listening to your stories and talking to you. he literally has his chin on his hands listening to how you made a makeshift tourniquet out of your labcoat while you were on the field

both of you are really busy people but chuuya likes to stop by your clinic once in a while

you always have fresh flowers on your table because chuuya brings them for you

sometimes he’ll come home to you already tired and passed out 

oda sakunosuke:

the first time he met you was after a particularly rough mission and you were luckily there at the emergency room to treat him 

this guy had a concussion and needed stitches asap but instead he was asking you to treat his companions first 

you quickly treated him and let him rest and of course the first thing he asks when he wakes up is how everyone else is doing

your intrigued of course because you’ve never met a mafia member who was like him 

the second time you met him, odasaku actually brought someone from the enemy faction along because he didn’t think that leaving him to die was the right choice

he didn’t know if you would treat them because you were loyal to the mafia but you also had your own moral code as a doctor to treat patients no matter who they were

odasaku stuck around the emergency room knowing that it was going to take you hours to treat the man and when you come out, you’re surprised to see him there with a cup of coffee

the two of you end up sitting in the hallway and talking about all sorts of things. you love listening to how odasaku stopped killing so that he can fulfill his dream of being a writer

he on the other hand loves hearing about how you went through the hell that was med school because you were dedicated to saving lives

maybe odasaku doesn’t mind getting injured so much because that means he gets to see you but also you can’t help but feel worried about him

one time, one of the odasaku’s adopted kids gets really sick and the first person he ends up calling is you because he has no idea what to do 

to his relief, you show up right at the curry restaurant and are very much ready to help

odasaku admires how good you are with kids. even though they just met you, they’ve already taken a liking to your calm, sweet presence

you even pull out your stethoscope and let them take turns listening to each other’s heartbeats

until a kid walks up to oda to check his heartbeat and is like ‘uh,,, your heart is beating really fast’

cue all the kids singing “ODA LOVES Y/N, ODA LOVES Y/N”

you look up at oda and he doesn’t look away and now you know

after that day, oda asks if you would like to maybe have a drink with him or visit a cafe and you say that you would love to

odasaku loves to drop by your clinic because he’s such a caring boyfriend and he knows how stressed you are from your work

he even comes by in the morning to bring you your coffee and he memorizes your order

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumu-brainrot​ @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo ​ @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi​

[cherrycocaineee]

19. Sam Winchester - Hospital Visit

It was extra busy today at the hospital, there were three patients in need of major surgeries along with a line of people either waiting at the clinic or waiting for their minor surgeries to take place. I had been running around all morning wherever I was needed, and since I was the lead surgeon that was pretty much everywhere. Every time I got the chance, I glanced up at the ticking clock that was mute amongst all the loud chatting and alarms going off. I needed to hang on til three, and then another head surgeon would be here to help. I wiped the forming beads of sweat off of my forehead as I headed to the bathroom, wanting to escape from all the chaos that was hitting. Of course I loved being a doctor but I wasn’t made for such large groupings like this. It sent anxiety through my body causing me to sweat. So I just needed a small break to calm my nerves.

   Pressing my back against the cool wall felt almost painful against my hot, sweaty skin. I was just praying silently that I was wearing my doctor’s coat over a turtleneck sweater, stopping most of the chilling pain. Finally catching my breath after fifteen minutes, I pushed myself off of the wall, the cold no longer bothering me, and headed back into the jungle that awaited outside. Not much time passed before my Nurse, Lacy, ran up to me.

  “Doctor,” she said, her voice frantic and filled with worry, “come quick, there’s two new patients in need of medical treatment.”

   Nodding curtly, I followed after her quickly to wherever the patients were. There weren’t many rooms open, so when we did eventually find them, they were in the last two rooms. I went inside the first room, the room that was closer to us, and peered inside at the man lying on the hospital bed. My eyes widened at the sight of John Winchester, an old family friend from way back then. He was covered in slash marks, fresh blood that still needed to be cleaned off of his unconscious body. He was also covered in sweat, glass, and dirt.

   Lacy looked up at me.

 “Bring me a rag,” I muttered, “and some warm, soapy water.” 

  Nodding, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I took another glance at John Winchester then headed out of the room, silently praying that the other person in the second room wasn’t one of his sons.

  But I wasn’t lucky. Lying in the next hospital bed was his older son, Dean. I frowned, my forehead creasing slightly. Like his father, Dean was covered in blood, sweat, glass, and dirt. He would need to be cleaned up as well.

  “Doctor.”

  Looking up, I spotted my nurse standing at the door with the bucket of water and a rag hanging over it.

  “Thank you. Please, get another one for this patient.”

 “Of course.”

I took the bowl from Lacy and headed back into the room where John was waiting. Sitting beside his bed was Sam, also covered in blood but not as much as his dad and brother. His eyes met mine, widening as he saw my face.

  “Noel?” He questioned, his voice soft and surprised.

  “Hey Sam,” I replied, placing the bowl down.

  His eyes shifted to the ground. The last time I saw the Winchester’s was when I was twelve years old. I was a year younger than Sam. Out of the two Winchester boys, Sam and I had become close. I knew all about their hunting and everything they did.

  “You gonna tell me what happened?” I asked, grabbing the cloth and beginning to clean John up.

  The blood wiped away easily, revealing his tanned up, scarred skin.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a great idea,” he admitted.

 “Maybe not, but I still think you should tell me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, contemplating inside his head whether telling me would put me in danger. It probably would but I could handle myself. Finally, he told me what happened. They had gotten into a fight with a demon, one who called herself Meg, and these shadow things came out of nowhere attacking them. They were practically defenseless, their only saving grace was light. That’s how they were able to escape, along with throwing Meg out a tall window. By the time he finished telling me what happened, I had finished cleaning his dad up.

   Placing the cloth inside the now bloody water, I faced Sam.

  “Is she dead?” I inquired.

  “We think so,” he huffed, his hair shifting with the breeze escaping his lips, “but we’ve never dealt with a demon before so we’re unsure.”

  Nodding quietly, I started stitching up the large gashes displayed on John’s body. Lacy was right, he did need quick medical attention but not so much that he needed to be placed in the operating room. Not while there were people who needed surgeries on their brains waiting, or even their stomach. This was an easy fix.

  I could feel Sam’s eyes watching me while I sutured up his dad. Clipping the final set of stitches, I got rid of all the leftovers, then washed my hands.

  “I’m going to Dean’s room,” I muttered, “he needs more care than your father, so I’ll need more time to deal with him. Wait here.”

   Sam didn’t argue, he just nodded his head.

Taking care of Dean’s injuries were much harder than I had realized. He was losing lots of blood, and no matter how much of it I tried to wipe away, there would always be another rush of it pouring from the wound. So I had to deal with the large, several gashes that covered his body. Fixing him up took me almost three hours. When I was finished with him, it didn’t seem to matter, he was in a coma from the amount of blood he lost. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it and that was going to be hard to tell Sam and John.

   Lacy informed me that John Winchester was now awake, so now I was heading to his room to give them the bad news. Some doctors would call it semi-bad news but that didn’t really make any sense to me considering. I walked into John’s room, seeing him speaking to Sam, neither of them looking happy about whatever was being discussed. Sam was first to spot me.

  “Dad,” he said.

  John turned to face me, and at first I wasn’t sure he’d recognize me but when his eyes widened, I knew he did.

  “Noel,” he said, “it’s been a long time.”

  “It sure has,” I replied, smiling, “it seems you guys got yourself into a pickle.”

 “Seems that way.”

 I walked completely inside the room, my hands folded together.

  “How’s Dean doing?” Sam inquired.

  My heart felt like it was hammering against my chest but I tried to remain professional.

  “I’ve stitched him up, and cleaned up his body. However, he’s lost a lot of blood and is now in a coma,” I informed, sadness lurking in my voice, “right now, it isn’t looking so good. If he doesn’t pull through soon, then I would start preparing for the worst.”

  “Noel,” Sam said standing up, “he has to come back.”

  “There isn’t anymore that I can do, Sam. Had he’d been brought in earlier, maybe, but he’s lost way too much blood. We’re replacing it, he’s getting round the clock treatment and blood is being added to his body through an IV, but that’s all we’re able to do.”

   He looked away from me, his eyes noticeably filling with tears, then grabbed his jacket and walked out of the room. A soft breeze brushing against me as he passed me. John didn’t say anything to Sam as he left. I sighed and walked over to John, removing a small flashlight from my pocket.

  “Let me have a look at your pupils,” I muttered, “how are you feeling?”

 The bright light danced across his now dilated pupils.

  “Much better,” he replied.

It was quiet for a moment before John spoke again, asking about Dean.

  “He was in really bad shape, huh?” He asked.

  “Yes,” I muttered, removing the light from his eyes, “I wish there could be more done but right now, all we can do is wait and see.”

  John’s eyes looked away from me, staring down at his covered legs. I could tell he was feeling bad about what he did to Sam and Dean, specifically Dean since he was in a coma now. I stuffed the flashlight into my doctor coat, taking another look at the oldest Winchester. All three of these boys were tough as nails but everything seemed to be shattering right before their very own eyes.

  “I know this is hard, Mr. Winchester,” I replied, “but I promise you, I’ll do what I can to help Dean get better. For now, it’s best if you pray for his healing.”

  He didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod. Something seemed to be brewing around in his head, so I left after giving his shoulder a small squeeze. After leaving John’s room, I went to go look for Sam, taking a final look at Dean in his room. A small pang in my chest rippled through me before I headed off to find the youngest Winchester.

I found him sitting outside on the hospital steps. The breeze was starting to pick up, ruffling Sam’s hair along with my own. I walked over to him, my white shoes slapping quietly against the concrete. Sitting down next to Sam, I watched him look over at me. I folded my arms around my stomach and looked away, watching the hundreds of people walking around. Either lost in their own world or talking with someone who was with them. I didn’t want to say anything that would anger him or cause him to get up and leave.

  “It’s all my fault,” Sam whispered.

 My head snapped towards him, shocked completely at his sudden admission to guilt.

  “How so?” I inquired.

 “If I hadn’t gotten mad at Dean, if I hadn’t ran into Meg, then we would have never been tricked into this situation.”

  I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. My long, jet black hair waved in the wind.

 “Sam, you couldn’t possibly know that Meg was a demon. Like you said before, you guys have never dealt with one before so how are you supposed to know the difference between one of them and a girl. I mean look around you.”

  Our eyes scanned the area around us, watching the people who caught our eyes do what was normal: eating ice cream, talking, laughing, walking, etc.

  “Anyone here could be a demon but how could we know?”

  A soft sigh escaped from his lips.

  “All I’m saying is, there’s no need for you to worry too much. Dean is a fighter, I’m sure he’ll pull through. However, if he isn’t, then you can’t walk around blaming yourself. It’s not what your dad would want and it’s definitely not what Dean would want.”

   I touched his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Sam smiled back before nodding.

 “You’re right,” he said.

 “Of course I am. I’ve never been wrong.”

 A laugh left his mouth, colliding with the wind that was picking up more and more. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. Soon Sam and I were discussing how life had been after we departed so long ago. I learned that Sam had previously gotten out of the whole family business, hunting things to attend college at Stanford to become a lawyer. He had only joined back up with his family because his girlfriend, Jessica, was killed by the same demon that killed his mom. Yellow eyes. It had its ups and down, constantly worrying about one another and the consistent fighting back and forth. Dean was ultimately too childish and took any opportunity to pull a silly prank on Sam. But, according to him, it wasn’t all too bad since he missed his brother a lot. And now that he and his dad were together again, he remembered that he loved him too while disagreeing with him like he had when he was younger.

   Once he was finished catching me up on how his life had been going, I told him about mine. How my mother passed away a year after they had left, inspiring me to go to medical school. I had also been engaged for a little while before finding out that my fiancé was cheating on me behind my back. The rest of my life wasn’t much to gossip about, considering most of it was just me going to school and being cheating on.

   “Despite everything though,” I replied, “I enjoy what I do and hope that I’m making a big difference every single day.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling my pager buzz beside my hip. Pulling it from beside me, I saw that Lacy was paging me, letting me know that another lead surgeon had arrived and that I could go for lunch. Standing up, I held out my hand to Sam.

“Wanna get some coffee with me?” I inquired, “It’ll help clear your thoughts. Maybe you can figure out a way to help Dean behind bringing him to the doctor.”

 I hoped that he caught on to what I had to say. By the smile that appeared on his face, I knew that he did. Taking a hold of my hand, I pulled him to his feet and headed across the street to the small coffee shop where I normally went when I was able to have a small break. On the way over, the two of us talked with one another and laughed at stories about each other's life. It was nice to reconnect with a friend from so long ago. Sam and I had always been close to one another when we were young. And on the way to the coffee shop, I hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Sam. And hopefully under much better circumstances than the one that brought us together today.

[sun-summoning]

part ii | part iii | part iv

after speaking to kido, sakura rushes home. when she calms down from the rage that nearly had her crush his throat, sakura can admit that she doesn’t really think this is him. he knew a lot about her for someone that was supposed to have been locked up all this time, but he seemed genuinely surprised to hear that sarada had been taken, if not disappointed. he fit the profile of what shikamaru and kakashi thought -- that someone wanted sarada for her eyes -- but sakura can’t stop the nagging feeling that somehow this runs deeper.

back in her apartment, megumi’s body is right where she left it, and sakura feels awful for having moved so mechanically. megumi was an orphan, but she was still someone’s little girl. ashamed, sakura lays a sheet over her and swears she’ll do more later.

she heads to her bedroom and begins her work. alone, she summons one of the cats she’d made a contract with shortly after her marriage. the black cat is sleek and holds himself confidently. he’s always been an efficient one, quick to do as she needs and be competent about it. he regards sakura with a cock of his head.

“sarada’s been taken.”

“your daughter.”

“yes.” 

the cat nods. “i shall inform the clowder. if anyone spots her, i will let you know.”

“thank you.” sakura pauses, self-conscious for needing to rely on everybody else for this part. “if you...if any of you are able to come into contact with sasuke-kun, can you pease let him know too?”

“of course.”

“thank you.” sakura promises to provide the usual exchange at a later time and the cat disappears with a puff of smoke. she heads to her bedroom and she begins to pack in silence. 

her movements are as meticulous as they are automatic, done just so she’s ready to leave the moment she knows where she needs to go. her medkit is stocked. her bag has scrolls, weapons, supplies, and sarada’s favourite toy. she changes out of her days clothes and into the leggings and turtleneck of a uniform she hasn’t worn in years. her cloak is in the front closet. she needs to change her boots. she’ll put on the boots now. she leaves the armour on her bed to don later. right now, they only hinder her movements. she goes to the drawer where her mask hides in plain sight among other trinkets and knick knacks, and on the dresser she notices a flower.

sakura stills as she takes in the detail she must have missed in her earlier haste. she considers the simple glass vase and the single red flower sitting in it. its petals curl at the ends and some are even missing. 

this flower has travelled and as sakura considers what it is, she knows it’s travelled far. 

-

konoha became unbearable by the time she tuned twenty. it's so petty and selfish and she'd never say it aloud, but she hated seeing everyone else so happy. she's happy too -- has so many reasons to be -- but she couldn’t help the nagging jealousy she feels when ino declined her invitations because she was going to see sai or when naruto prioritized her almost always only to head home to hinata.

she wanted to be someone's too. she wanted to be their focus and heart and home, but sakura already knew who her someone was and knew that on some level she was his too, so all she needs to do right now is wait.

most of the time, sakura wasn’t bitter. being apart from him wasn't unfamiliar, nor the steadfastness, nor the hope that one day this will pay off one day, nor the self reminders that what she felt was irrelevant as long as sasuke knew and was comforted by the fact that she would always love him.

to suppress her frustrations rather than confront them, sakura worked. she worked tirelessly and relentlessly and by nineteen, they'd named her the greatest medical ninja konoha has ever seen for her accomplishments, ideas, and innovations.

this took her to suna at twenty and to ame at twenty-one to help establish their own clinics.

“i have a gift for you,” ino told her before she left. 

sakura expected a ribbon or a piece of jewellery or that new book on poisons she mentioned she was interested in. instead, ino handed her a bag. its contents shift, imbalanced, and inside sakura finds a potted plant. 

“a flower?”

“not just any flower, you ungrateful bitch.” ino pointed at her accusingly and then at the plant. its petals are a bright red with darker flecks at their base. “i made it.”

“you made it?”

“yes. you know me, interrogating and mind-reading by day, splicing plants together and making my own by night.”

“that’s sad.”

“fuck you. you’re sad.”

sakura laughed and ino laughed too but it got a bit sad because ino probably definitely knew that sakura was sad. “anyway,” ino continued, “we’ll call it the sakuino flower--”

“how creative.”

“--and i expect you to keep it alive through all of your travels.”

sakura frowned at ino, wondering if ino understood that a potted plant had no place in her travels, but ino didn’t seem to care. moreover, this particular thing didn’t seem to have the ability to survive in the desert climate she was going to be living in for the next six months. 

when sakura expressed as much, ino waved the matter off. “deal with it,” she said, giving sakura one last hug. “you’re one of the brightest minds to come out of this village. you’ll figure something out.”

-

its common name is the fire poppy, having originated from the fire country but somehow managing to survive in the deserts of wind country as well. the flower is know for its vibrant red petals, eye-catching and jarring across the barren brown it’s normally found in. sakura had to play with the original plant’s physiology when she first moved to ensure it could survive the alternate climate. in her spare time, when she wasn’t working with the kids, she deigned to work with her plant, eventually working on cloning the original. at some point she’d given one to a nurse she worked with who much admired the first, and gaara asked if he could try planting them in his garden. from there, the spores began to spread.

“why the fire poppy?”

was this someone from suna?

sakura considers the obvious motivation of revenge, but who would even want that? there were people who didn’t appreciate her friendship with kankuro or any of his siblings. perhaps an apprentice of chiyo’s who blamed sakura for not saving her when she gave her life for gaara’s. worse, perhaps someone that once worked sasori who resented her for his demise. or maybe someone she, sadly, can’t even remember. a patient she lost during the war whose family hated her.

sakura truly cannot pinpoint a motivation for this, much less a person. 

especially a person that would understand the meaning of this flower for her. 

ino would never give her this flower. ino would have scoffed at it and created her own. sarada couldn’t have picked it today. and sasuke certainly couldn’t have left it for her.

someone was in her apartment. someone brought it here. 

was it here before?

sakura considers the poppy and forces herself to keep calm. stay logical, she demands. stay smart. was the poppy there before? no, she thinks at first. she would have seen it. she’s certain she would have seen it.

but, she can accept, it’s possible she might have missed it. sarada was taken. her babysitter was murdered. it wouldn’t be surprising if sakura missed it. but sakura doesn’t miss things. right?

“don’t gaslight yourself,” she orders. 

no, she knows. the flower was not there before, meaning in between her going to kakashi, going to the prison, and then running back home, whoever took her daughter came back.

or worse, there was a team involved and one was with her child and another came back for her. 

sakura curses, wishing she’d put on her black ops armour earlier, because whoever brought the flower here is now making their presence known. she senses two people before she sees them and is unsurprised to find sudden flares of strength.

the bedroom is small and they’re in a building. she needs to take this outside, but where? there’s too much risk for others getting hurt in the crossfire. that’s why this was supposed to stay quiet. that’s why this will stay quiet.

they step out of the shadows and sakura assesses them quickly. one male, one female, both fairly young based on stature and development, maybe early twenties at the oldest. they’ll have agility on her, but they won’t have her experience. 

the man holds a chokuto. good. an advantage. sakura is excellent at fighting against such a weapon. if they’re foolish enough to use her husband’s favourite sort of blade, perhaps they didn’t do enough research on her. perhaps they were hired? but if they were unprepared, then were they really here to kill her? 

are they here to distract her?

that thought fills sakura with dread. is someone trying to keep her busy so she can’t get to sarada on time?

the woman shifts, one leg sliding to the side as she raises her hands. she holds no weapons, therefore she is the weapon. sakura knows all about that. she’ll need to be careful with this one. but she still has a holster on her thigh. it’s thinner that the usual styles. maybe a couple kunai, but more likely a set of sebon. this one is smart then. she’ll know precisely where she needs to hit sakura to stop her.

“haruno sakura,” the man greets with a short nod.

so it is her fault.

if this was about sasuke, about the uchiha, they would know her married name. this is about her, and for that sakura feels worse. her baby was taken and why? just to hurt sakura before killing her? sarada was who knows where with surely no one that could be good and all just to hurt sakura?

sakura snarls, furious in a way only a mother could be, and she feels the chakra pulsing around her fists.

“where is my daughter?”

their masks hide any expressions. they remain at ease in the face of her rage, shockingly unafraid of this woman that can level mountains. 

good, sakura thinks. let them be brave. let them come at her like fools. 

she runs through the bedroom door to get to the living room where there’s at least more space to maneuver. the man leaps and brings his blade down upon her, but sakura manages to shift to the side. careful to not be forced into a corner, she spins out of his range and into the open middle until the woman runs past her partner and takes sakura on hand-to-hand.

she matches sakura’s punches and kicks blow for blow. she’s good, sakura thinks nervously. and she’s fast. she’s small, maybe half a head shorter than sakura, so she puts her weight behind every quick jab. sakura gives most of her attention to the woman, but keeps a wary on eye on the man who sheathes his chokuto.

what as he planning?

it takes that one moment for the woman to catch her unaware. 

sakura chokes on her breath as the woman thrusts a senbon into her shoulder. the shock from that slows her down enough so she can lodge in a second.

“shit,” sakura curses as she stumbles back. she rips the senbon out, but she feels her left arm begin to go numb from the struck pressure point. “what did you do--”

sakura’s eyes widen she she feels something foreign begin to course through her. she considers the senbon, dark with her blood and likely something else. there’s a metallic smell that isn’t from the weapon, and sakura knows she’s been poisoned.

however, her body doesn’t bother to fight it. 

sakura watches her opponents, trying to understand how she’s been poisoned with something she’s immune to and just what poison this might be. she’s immune to everything in konoha’s own collection, as well as the ones she shares with shizune.

which poison is this?

does that matter?

sakura scowls at the two people involved in her daughter’s kidnapping and reminds herself that she can take them on one-handed just fine. she pulls her right hand into a fist and charges. the man is closest, so she lunges at him with a chakra-laden punch that sends him barreling into the wall. 

she grabs the front of his shirt and as she pulls him forward, his mask falls away to reveal green eyes, cold and lifeless, and a black diamond under his left eye that makes her uneasy.

sakura stares at the man, confused, because she knows this face.

she knows him.

her fear and pain and worry makes it hard to focus, but knows him. 

focus.

finally, it clicks. 

“isao?”

she thinks she might have seen something like recognition in his eyes. that doesn’t long though. she left herself open, and his partner stabs her shoulder. sakura releases isao with a cry before the woman punches her in the back of the head and everything goes dark.

-

the sun is up when sakura begins to stir. she hears the birds chirping and people outside going about their days. but the buzz of the television is missing, as are the small thuds of sarada’s steps. where is sarada? sakura wonders hazily, lazily, not quite understanding yet.

where is sarada?

her eyes widen and she sits up so quickly her stomach rolls.

“careful.” tsunade comes into view, steadying sakura and checking her for any problems. “you’re still healing.”

she’s in her own bed. she’s not at the hospital. she got knocked out and the assassins got away. she should’ve done something to track them. dammit. was she so arrogant she didn’t have a failsafe in place for if she didn’t simply beat them? sakura punches the bed, earning a disapproving frown from shizune on her other side.

“there was poison in your system.” 

“it was one of ours,” sakura admits warily. 

“yes. there are very few people with access to those, much less this particular one.”

the one that the assassin used was meant to render a victim paralyzed but still able to feel. it was a dreadful thing, meant only for the worst of interrogations. or, more accurately, for torture. sakura concocted it in her darkest moments at fourteen under shizune’s watchful eye. since then, while they’ve both had small handfuls of keen students, they’ve probably shared poisons from their personal roster with only five people at most.

for this particular poison, sakura knows only two people they showed it to, and only one of those was a student of sakura’s.

“how did you find me?”

tsunade rolls her eyes. “shizune sent you off to a prison from kakashi’s office. i figured i’d have to check on you shortly after. and it’s a good thing i did, stupid girl.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me. i’m scolding on you.”

“did they find anything useful?”

“no one’s been able to contact your husband.”

“right.”

“and they’re still under the impression that this has to do with the uchiha blood.” 

“they would be,” sakura mutters, too tired and in too good company to be anything but blunt.

shizune sighs. “do you know who came after you last night?” the flower is still where she left it on the dresser. shizune follows her gaze to the fire poppy, and all knowing with plants as well, shizune determines its origins. “how did that get here?”

“i think it was to taunt me.” sakura grimaces. “you were right.”

“about?”

“i think this is my fault.”

shizune’s eyes widen and quickly soften with sympathy. “none of this your fault,” she reminds sakura. 

tsunade crosses her arms. “enemies of yours then?”

“no.” sakura looks sad. “people i once loved.”

-

tbc

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 5

I wasn’t going to write this the same day as Villainsicle, but I just got so excited with the cliffhanger from last time!

At long last, it’s time for Hero to make their move.

In accordance with the votes from last time, Hero is going to keep up the ruse, and keep pretending to be Director.

CW//Mentions of recreational drugs/marijuana, forced sedation, medical setting, stretchers, IVs, talk of death/execution

When Hero met the team they had been newly assigned to, it had only been Teammate who had smiled.

It had been a few days, now, since that somewhat awkward meeting. The same sentiment had continued, however. While the rest of the team seemed merely to tolerate their new member, Teammate had been warm, welcoming.

So, it only seemed to reason that when Hero finally moved into their new dorm, it was Teammate who was giving them the mini tour.

“It’s not much.” The door creaked as it swung open on its hinges. Hero struggled to see the room within, peering their head over the precarious stack of boxes held in their hands. “But, it’s yours. Um, feel free to put your stuff down.”

Hero nodded gratefully, placing their luggage on the bed as Teammate began to gesture about.

“That’s, uh, well that’s obviously the bed. You sleep on a bed, right? Or do you use some kind of like, dog bed? Sorry, that was stupid.”

Hero snickered.

“No, no, you’re fine. I do sleep on a human bed.”

“That’s good, cause it’s the only kind we’ve got. So, yeah. That’s the bed. That’s the bathroom, through the door. That’s the dresser, feel free to use that for, clothes and stuff.”

“What about that door?”

“Oh.”

Teammate moved over to said door, sliding it open, revealing an empty closet that stood several feet deep.

“We’ve all got these. It’s just a closet.” They smiled. “I don’t know why they’re so big like that, but, hell, you could have someone live in there, I bet. It’s big enough, no one would ever notice.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“Friend. I’m so glad you could come visit. I missed seeing you, last week, but I understand how busy you are this time of year. How are you finding everything?”

Hero gritted their teeth, gaze meeting that of Head Doctor. A warm smile replied to with a tense, nerve-wracked countenance.

For the briefest moment, Hero stood in a university building, hostages behind them, and a faceless nemesis before them.

Their tongue flitted over their teeth. They didn’t bother with an accent, there was no way they would have been able to keep it up. Their normal, stupid voice would have to do.

“I missed you, too. I apologize for dropping by so suddenly. Everything is just great, thank you.”

Head Doctor’s brow furrowed, their jaw twisting a moment as they gnawed on the inside of their cheek.

“Friend, your voice sounds different. Are you alright?”

“Yes, do not worry yourself. My allergies are acting up terribly today.”

“Are you certain that it is only allergies? You sound like a kid, again. Here, if you have a moment, perhaps we can go to my office. I’m not too busy, right now.”

“No, no, that won’t be needed.”

“I insist.”

Hero gulped, hoping only that it was not visible. In their ear, a nerve-wracked Hacker’s voice chirped:

“Y- you’re, uh, you’re the director, right? Just, like, order him to shut up!”

Opening their mouth, Hero sputtered, but managed to make out the words:

“If I was worried about my voice, I would tell you.” Their nerves turned rapidly to fury. “I didn’t come here to be berated. I have a- a meeting in an hour. I came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to chat.”

Hacker’s snickering only made Hero’s stomach twist into a tighter knot.

“O-Oh. I apologize, Director. We will just have to be friends off the clock, then.”

“Certainly.”

“What is it that I can help you with, then?”

Every piece of Hero’s body insisted for them to flee, to quickly make their excuses, duck out the door, and get out of this stupid suit. They could go home, go to their dorm, go smoke pot with Teammate. Everything would be okay, and they would never have to think about this place, or Villain, or Hacker, or any of it, ever again!

It would be so easy. They were risking everything, throwing it all away, and for no reason.

Leaving would be so simple, and yet...

If they left Villain here, they knew they would never sleep again. For the briefest moment, they were glad that they had never had much in the way of impulse control.

“My charge.” Hero turned, gesturing to where a twitching Villain sat, prostrate upon their hospital bed. “This is them, yes?”

“Villain? Yes.”

“Good. I will be taking them with me, then.”

Head Doctor’s expression of uncertainty turned to one of an agape jaw.

“I don’t- If you would like them to be moved to another facility, we can certainly arrange that, but-”

“That’s not what I said, is it? I have a car, here. I will be taking them with me.”

“Sir, are you absolutely certain? By your own order, they are on a very strict regime of medications. Removing them from the IV- It could be disastrous.”

Hero felt their stomach drop to their feet. Stupid! They hadn’t even thought about that, oh god, oh god. This stupid plan, it was going to kill Villain, wasn’t it? Maybe? Hell, they weren’t a doctor.

Even if it did kill them, though...

Did it really matter? As if they were really alive, right now.

“I am well aware of that!” The tone of their own voice nearly made Hero jump. “I have another facility set up, again, on my orders. They will be taking over care, from now on.”

“We have a transport vehicle for this very situation, Sir.”

“Not for this very situation, no. This is not a normal transfer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s a highly classified matter. There is no driver in our employ that I can trust to manage this transfer, and thus I will handle it myself.”

“Oh.” Head Doctor frowned, as though a black-hued light bulb had turned on above their crown. “Sir if... If you want them disposed of, I agree that this may not be the best facility to arrange that, but we do have facilities that can perform that procedure.”

Hero bit their tongue with enough force to draw blood.

“I will arrange it myself, Head Doctor. I assure you, everything has already been worked out. Are you going to keep standing in my way, or do I need to bring in security?”

Head Doctor shook their head quickly.

“That won’t be necessary. What do you need?”

“Their IVs removed.” Even before Hero finished their phrase, the doctor was already at their patient’s bedside, withdrawing tubes from veins. Villain took in a sharp, shuddering breath. “And a transport stretcher prepared.”

“I assume you would like them to be restrained, too?”

“How long should the medications keep them down for?”

“Another twelve hours, maybe.”

“That will be more than enough. Don’t hassle yourself.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Hero’s legs moved like those of a newborn deer as they backed away towards a wall, leaving room for the orderlies and nurses to scurry about like an ant colony.

Some part of their mind, twisted by adrenaline and anxiety, could not help but remind them of the moment in their childhood when they had adopted a dog. The hurried, overworked vets, scurrying about the animal, checking vitals and microchips.

The dog had had no say in the matter. And, in this matter, Villain had no say, either.

The medical staff seemed not to feel any such sympathy, hands moving swiftly to shift about their paralyzed charge. Cursory checks were made of blood pressure and breathing and the like, though far more attention seemed to be directed upon the removal of various tubes and monitors. Following their detachment from the hospital bed, Villain was shifted by a dozen hands onto a thin blue cushion, laid atop a rolling contraption of wheels.

Hero hoped that the straps that tightened the unconscious person down were only strictly necessary.

Despite their anxiety telling them otherwise, the whole process only lasted a minute two, after which the remaining medical staff filed from the chamber, leaving only Head Doctor in their cyan scrubs.

“Thank you, friend.” Hero ducked their head, moving away from their place in the corner. “They are ready, then?”

“Yes, Sir. Do you need help getting them to your vehicle?”

“That would be great, yes.”

The two positioned themselves on either side of the rolling contraption, with Hero doing their very best to keep their eyes forward rather than down as they began to direct the stretcher through narrow hallways.

It was too light. It should have been heavier, they were certain.

The facility was terribly small, and it was only a minute later that the imitator and the medic stood, alone, in the parking lot, white picket fence far behind them.

Head Doctor glanced a moment at Hero’s beat up SUV, but their nerves kept them from commenting on the matter. Leaving the stretcher a moment, Hero moved to the back of the vehicle, prying open its rear hatch and flattening the seats.

“I assume this is an undercover operation, then?” The way Head Doctor said it implied the statement to be a joke.

“Something like that. How do we, um... I haven’t done this before.”

“It’s not that hard. Especially not when your patient may as well be a feather-- keep that in mind for your dosages, too. They’ve lost weight. Anyways, um, just fold the stretcher like so, and... Can you help lift?”

Hero nodded, doing their best to keep the stretcher flat as they raised it. The contraption hardly fit in the back of their vehicle, but it did fit, even as it was practically wedged between the walls. What was most important was that it sat low enough that the unconscious patient could not be seen through the windows-- at least not from a distance.

There was a sense of terrifying finality as they closed the vehicle’s rear hatch.

They were doing this.

Oh, they were going to get so caught.

What then? This had to be just about the worst offense a hero could commit. Using their powers and their position and the aid of a career criminal to break a villain out of prison. It seemed like a child’s hyperbole-- ‘What should we do if there’s a tornado and a fire and an earthquake? What then?’

Except, this time, there was no ‘what if’ to it.

It was these spiraling thoughts that distracted them just enough that they forget, momentarily, where their feet were landing. A split second of distraction, and they found themself on their back, head spinning from the fall.

Stupid.

They didn’t realize until they were back to their feet that their earpiece had fallen onto the pavement.

“Director? Are you alright?” Head Doctor raised a brow. “Oh, you dropped this.”

They knelt down, plucking the earbud off the ground, lifting it to their face to investigate.

And, in accordance with Hero’s fantastic luck, it was that exact moment in which Hacker decided to speak:

“Hero? Hero? Are you there? You cut out there for a moment. Head Doctor didn’t get you, did they?”

The doctor’s icy gaze lifted to meet that of the copycat.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

It was hard, to get out of the city.

The tendrils of concrete and glass reached out in a looping spiderweb of interstates and one way roads. Moving in a straight line was not an option, for every attempt made to do so would lead to the city herding you back in.

In the end, it must have taken Hero an hour and a half to reach what could be vaguely described as a ‘rural area.’ At the very least, it was outside of the inner city, which was what mattered surtout.

At the very least, the long drive had allowed them a moment to catch their breath.

Unlike some other buildings controlled by Organization, the rehab facility did not have much in the way of a security force-- unless you counted Head Doctor, which Hero did not. Unfortunately, the same thought had not seemed to have the doctor’s train of thought.

It was amazing just how little attention Hero had attracted, screeching out of a rehab facility’s parking lot with a screaming doctor chasing after them up to the property line. They could only assume that no one wanted to get involved in hero business.

Organization, however, would certainly be interested, once they heard about the incident.

Thus, Hero had spent the past hour and a half white-knuckling the steering wheel, steering around endless intersections, until they had found the smallest piece of rural land. A gravel parking lot, from which a flock of starlings had fled at the approach of Hero’s car.

Beneath the vehicle’s suspension, tires settled on broken up rocks.

Hero glanced in the rear view mirror for the thousandth time, but saw only the same thing as always-- endless, empty road.

For the first time in an hour and a half, they let themself breathe. Their car’s engine exhaled as they turned it off and twisted around in their seat.

Villain had not moved.

The few straps on the stretcher did little more than keep them from falling off the cushion. If they had any desire, any ability, to move, they would have had no trouble.

But they were still. Alive, eyelids twitching and chest moving, but still.

Taking care to avoid jostling the stretcher, Hero climbed from the driver’s seat to the back of the vehicle, crouching down at Villain’s side.

As gently as they could manage, Hero held their nemesis’ hand.

“Can you hear me?”

It was a stupid question. Of course Villain couldn’t hear them. Yet, as soon as Hero’s mouth opened, they found themself unable to close it. Unable to still their tongue.

“I don’t... I know it’s been a long time.”

A wave of orange light washed over the two as the sun drifted below the window.

“I know it’s been a long time. And maybe this is stupid. Maybe you hate me. Maybe you want to go back there. Go back to sleep. Maybe that’s all you want. But... I want to help you.

I don’t know anything else. I just know I want to help you.

We weren’t friends, before. I know that. We both know that. And, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t know why I’m doing this. We hated each other. Maybe I still hate you, but...

We can figure that all out later, okay? Right now, I just want to help.”

It was in that position that the nemeses sat, breathing in their first tastes of non-city air in so many years. Outside of the vehicle’s walls, the sun drifted below the horizon, replaced by its lunar sister.

When the last shreds of twilight were at last dead, Hero felt at long last safe to return home. One last time, they squeezed Villain’s hand.

Villain squeezed back. The slightest movement-- perhaps a simple involuntary reaction. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything.

But, to Hero, it meant everything.

On the return trip to the city, the streets were far quieter, and thankfully devoid of any sort of Organization search patrols. In fact, their arrival at the HQ was almost too uneventful. But, they weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Had they not been so stupid, so reckless, they would still have help. They would still have Hacker. Their friend could have guided them through the HQ, guided them on how to avoid the security cameras.

But Hero had been stupid. They had been reckless. Now, they were alone.

At the very least, the parking lot was deserted, and they met no resistance as they unstrapped Villain from their transport. They haphazardly covered the device with a tarp, all the while struggling to keep their limp friend from falling over.

Any strength that Villain had once held in their legs had long since been stolen away from them. After a few clumsy attempts to get them to their feet, Hero resolved to a simple bridal carry.

They could only hope that Villain would not remember this. They would never hear the end of it.

Without the benefit of an eye in the sky, all Hero could do against the possibility of cameras was to lean over the load they carried, hoping it at least obscured Villain’s face.

The HQ was deserted.

At this hour, it was never deserted.

The very thought made their blood turn to frozen slush, but they had no choice but to keep moving. Keep moving to the elevator, then out of it. Keep moving to their floor, then their quarters.

At the very least, Teammate’s snoring still echoed. Not everything was out of place.

Well-placed steps led Hero to their dorm, locking the door behind themself.

They looked down.

Villain was in their room. Their dorm. They were really never going to hear the end of this, were they?

Unfortunately, hours spent panicking over their nemesis’ condition had not spontaneously made Hero a doctor. Whatever they were going through right now, helping them through it was beyond them.

They had no medicines. No treatments. But, they had a closet, and a pile of blankets within. When Villain was finally tucked into the makeshift bed, they were almost invisible beneath the layers of fabric.

Though they were not quite sure why, Hero smiled.

That odd expression remained on their face as they got to their knees, staring upon their work.

For once, they had done something right. They had succeeded at something. Take that, Leader!

Villain twitched.

For a moment, Hero thought that their nerves had simply made them hallucinate the movement. But, no, they certainly had not dreamed it, as a moment later, the small movement repeated itself.

Villain opened their eyes. They spoke as though their tongue was made of ice, but that did not make their voice any quieter.

“Please, no! Please! Please, don’t do this! Help me help me help me someone help me. Please! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it!”

The sobbing grew to such a point that it shook Hero’s chest, like the thrum of a bass, echoing through the floor.

“Please!”

Through all the chaos, Hero was surprised that they even heard the knock at the door, and the quiet voice that came with it:

“Hero? Hero, it’s Teammate. Is everything okay in there?”

“I didn’t mean to see it! I won’t tell Hero, I promise! I promise!”

All at once, Hero understood the saying of being caught between a rock and a hard place.

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Hero has gone this alone for too long, and Teammate is their friend. Let Teammate in. - How should Hero quiet Villain?

B.) Teammate is a risk, and Hero has already taken enough of those. Don’t let them in - How should Hero explain this?

[transsergio]

Emily's Top Surgery (Read on AO3)

Penemily / Gen / 4038 words

Emily has top surgery and their loving, perfect, beautiful girlfriend Penelope is their caretaker.

Notes: I refer to Emily as Penelope's girlfriend intentionally; Emily is a non-binary lesbian and in this particular story, is comfortable with the gendered term "girlfriend". However, if you see Emily referred to as she/her at any point, that's an editing mistake on my part and I mixed up their pronouns with Penelope's. I went through this a couple times to make sure I gendered them correctly, but one might have slipped through the cracks!

Also feels important to say that Dr. Dolan is a totally fictional doctor and not a reference to any real life surgeon

-

Surgery Day

Penelope has seen her team through too much already. Kidnappings, stab wounds, bullets – their jobs aren’t exactly arts and crafts. Yet, she thinks this might be the most nervous she has ever been. She’s been rapid-fire tapping her heel for the last hour and forty-five minutes, and trying to distract herself with her cell phone. Morgan texted a couple times to check in (once on behalf of Reid), but otherwise, radio silence. The few messages mean more than she can say; she is intimately familiar with how busy they are on a case. But she really wishes any of them were there to squeeze her hand right about now. She’d even take Strauss.

In the middle of Penelope’s billionth Candy Crush level, a doctor materializes in front of her. She startles and fumbles her phone trying to click it off. “Is it over? Can I see them now? How’d it go?”

As the doctor peels his surgical mask off, she sees he’s laughing at her. That’s good, right?

He says, “Everything went just fine, Ms. Garcia. Emily’s in the recovery room now, and we’ll let you back there about twenty minutes after they wake up. They’re going to be a little groggy and maybe nauseous. It all depends on how their body reacts to the anesthesia. They’ll most likely sleep for the rest of the day, but make sure to keep up with their medications, alright?”

Penelope nods fervently. “Absolutely, Dr. Dolan. Can do. Will do! And I’m sorry to ask this again but I really have to make sure, the whole operation was totally fine? Nothing went wrong? Everything…chopped off okay?”

The doctor stifles a chuckle. “Yes, Ms. Garcia. Everything went exactly as planned, no complications as of yet. We’ll see you tomorrow for Emily’s one day post-op appointment to check the surgery site and switch out the bandages for a binder, and then for their first week post-op. Okay?”

Penelope smiles back, still nodding along like Emily’s health depends on it.

The doctor shakes her hand and ducks back into the surgical ward, leaving Penelope to update the group chat.

“Emily’s out!!!!!! Doc says all good!!!!!! Will be with them soon 😍💖🥳”

She types almost as quickly as her heart is beating.

Penelope makes it through another few rounds of mobile games and desperately refreshing her Twitter feed before she risks checking the clock. It’s been half an hour. Shouldn’t Emily be awake by now? What if they never wake up? Could someone be permanently anesthetized? Reid would know. Maybe Penelope should call Reid. No, she can’t do that. They’re all off in Texas trying to catch a serial killer and she doesn’t need to distract them, not when they’re already down two team members. Kevin Lynch is pretty good, she hopes. She’s seen his work and it’s adequate. Nothing like the multi-tasking Penelope pulls off, but in the same ballpark. His boyfriend, Grant Anderson, vouched for him. It was unnecessary, and maybe Kevin shouldn’t have sent the person who got Elle shot to sing his praises, but at least they knew Grant. Kevin was a stranger from another department. A back-up.

“Penelope Garcia?” A nurse calls as she emerges from swinging double doors.

“Yes, right here!” Penelope chirps. She leaps to her feet and scurries over as quickly as her heels will allow.

The nurse walks her through the recovery ward and the steps to Emily’s post-op instructions. Emily has four different prescriptions already filled and two cannot be taken at the exact same time while one is an antibiotic and the other is just for nausea which they might not need and –

“This is all written down, right? Sorry, my head’s just like, woo, swimming right now,” Penelope says. Her eyes are wide and darting frantically between the curtained beds. She hates the fluorescent lights. Her skin is buzzing with all the sour electricity. The nurse assures her they’ll send them home with physical copies along with phone numbers in case of emergency.

They round the nurse’s station and finally, come to Emily. They’re shifting slightly in their bed, leaning forward and sipping at a dixie cup of water. They're groggy and slow, with the IV still in their arm. Penelope’s glad they don’t have a mirror – their bangs are scattered over their forehead in three wispy chunks, a way Penelope knows Emily hates.

“Hey sweetheart,” Penelope coos. She leans over the bed's plastic siding to kiss the top of Emily’s head, and run her fingers through their dark hair. Emily leans into the touch.

They croak, “Hey,” and cough to clear their throat, wincing all the while.

“That’d be because you were intubated,” the nurse says. “Take plenty of cough drops and you should feel much better.”

Penelope assures the nurse they will while Emily drifts in and out of focus.

“Did it work?” they ask.

“Did what, Em?”

“M’surgery.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally. You’ll see in a little bit. You’re just sleepy.”

“M’kay,” Emily says. Their head lolls back into their pillows as the muscles in their face tighten.

“Emily, what would you rate your pain out of ten?” the nurse asks, coming closer with her clipboard at the ready.

“Uh, five? Maybe six.”

Penelope looks to the nurse. “Is that bad? That sounds bad. I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt right now.”

The nurse jots down a few notes before she answers. “It’s not unusual. We’ll up their pain killers before we remove the IV.”

Penelope plants herself firmly at Emily’s side in the meantime. They’ve redressed Emily in their own clothes, an oversized button-down and sweats. Well, Penelope assumes they put Emily’s bottoms back on. The blanket is still tucked tightly around their body like they’re some kind of soft, hot mummy. They stay like that for another fifteen minutes, Penelope working her nails through Emily’s scalp as they try to relax.

When Emily rates their pain at a four, then a three, Penelope helps the nurse settle them in a wheelchair. They roll a few feet into the hall before Emily claws for Penelope’s arm.

“Where’s the barf bag?” Penelope asks. She has her hand out and ready for the nurse to pass it over, and swings it into Emily’s face.

Emily, thankfully, does not puke. Their slow, steady breath crinkles the blue plastic bag, but all they fill it with is air. They keep a tight grip on the thing for safekeeping, even as they’re helped into the passenger’s seat of Penelope’s car.

“You ready to go home, lovebug?” Penelope keeps her voice low and sweet, like dark honey. Emily nods and Penelope grants her wish, starting the engine and turning out of the parking lot.

-❤-

One Day Post-Op

Penelope holds her breath as the nurse unwraps the medical bandages. She wonders if Em is doing the same. While she’s watching them, Emily’s eyes flit between her and the floor-length mirror fastened to the exam room wall.

The nurse is talking, and they’re both supposed to be listening, but who could expect them to? Emily has spent a couple grand (after insurance) and something like four years waiting for these next seconds. Penelope is just as invested, if not more, in Emily’s happiness. She’s not going to get the camera out, but wonders if she should just in case Emily cries.

Their eyes follow the final bandage as it unravels from Emily’s form.

And Emily’s mind goes quiet. They have two, deep red swoops where their chest used to bulge. Above and below, their body is nothing but smooth skin. They thought this would feel like shock. Like disbelief that they were finally here. Instead, it just feels right, as if this is the way it’s always been and some crappy daydream is over at last. They giggle, and Penelope glows like the sun has risen.

“Wow,” Penelope says, soft. She’s wrenched with admiration.

The nurse is smiling in the corner. She takes out a roll of Steri-Strips and measures them against Emily’s new scars. Scars! Emily finally has scars!

“Now the bruising should lessen in the next three to four weeks,” the nurse says. Oh, bruising. Emily almost hadn’t noticed. Their body is splotched with patches of yellow, green, and purple as if it’s trying to camouflage itself, but Emily’s not hiding from anything anymore.

They’re given more practical information, like how often Emily should be walking to avoid blood clots, how high they should lift their arms, how much they should be carrying – most of which tells them to stay reclined, arms down, to sleep as much as possible, but get in ten minutes of walking every few hours. Penelope hears more of this than Emily does, and again, they’re given written instructions just in case.

Emily takes one last look before the compression vest goes on. This will be the most uncomfortable part of the process, thank god. Emily chose a surgeon who used a tighter suture method rather than the typical drains intentionally. Still, the fit of the binder is exciting. Emily’s never had something lie flat on them before. Their body now falls in one fluid line without anything, even nipples, to interrupt.

“Em?”

Emily snaps to Penelope, who is standing and holding the door for them.

“Oh, right,” Emily says with half a laugh and a daze in their eyes. They thank the nurse, and the receptionist, and a passing surgeon that isn’t even Emily’s on the way out. This is the most gratitude Emily’s ever contained in their life, and they need to flush it through their system.

“And especially you,” Emily gushes as Penelope helps buckle their seatbelt. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’re taking time off for me, or that you’re not stir crazy already. Thank you.”

Penelope grins like she might burst, and can’t answer just yet. She gets them safely onto the highway for home first. “Of course I’m here for you, dumb-dumb! Not only because you literally can’t do anything for yourself right now, or because the hospital said you couldn’t have the surgery without having a caretaker, but, well – okay, maybe half for those reasons too. But because I love you. I’m so happy for you, and how happy you’re going to be, and that this is so good for you. I love you so much.” Penelope sniffles.

“Maybe you should have said all that before we left?” Emily asks. “You’re gonna cry the whole drive back, babe.”

Penelope swats at them. “I know, I know! But you’re on a strict schedule, my lovely angel, and you need your meds in like, thirty minutes.”

Emily laughs and catches Penelope’s hand in their own. They squeeze it tightly and press their lips to Penelope’s fingers. Emily only releases when Penelope tugs their grip toward the steering wheel.

“Next stop, Recoveryville,” Pen jokes.

-❤-

Five Days Post-Op

Emily is more or less comfortably laid on their couch. They have an arsenal of pillows stationed behind them, under their arms, and at the bend of their knees, and Penelope’s militant care routine keeping them afloat. For the last four days, they’ve done nothing but watch French art films together, eat ice cream, and order takeout. It’s been a nice break, Emily realizes. One they didn’t know they needed.

Penelope emerges from the kitchen with a bag of Doritos and a bright blue DVD in her hands.

“This looks like a bribe,” Emily says with a wry smile.

“That’s because it is. I am in no place to object to your choice of movies, especially after I promised I wouldn’t make fun of the accents anymore. But I was sorta hoping this would be a good opportunity to manhandle you into watching a real classic.” Penelope blocks the television in her pink pajama pants and Emily’s Yale hoodie. Penelope is well aware that Emily loves when she wears their clothes; she has to be doing this on purpose. And it’s working.

Emily bobs their head from side to side, considering the offer. “Alright, shoot. I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

Penelope slaps the movie cover over her face. Mamma Mia! (2008) Dir. Phyllida Lloyd.

“Oh, god.”

And Penelope reemerges, scowling. “Hey! I didn’t complain when you made me watch that sad movie about the woman with the dead family. This time, no one’s dead! And they’re in Greece! Okay, admittedly no one wants to hear Pierce Brosnan sing, but if you ignore him and focus on Meryl Streep the movie gets a lot better!”

This is not the first time Emily has heard argument on behalf of Mamma Mia! and it likely isn’t the last, either. Movie night in the Garcia-Prentiss household is in a state of constant debate and usually decided by a fair and unbiased coin toss. Emily considers it a miracle that Penelope’s lasted this long without putting up a fight, and considers it part of her generosity as their caretaker.

Emily scooches themself into a more upright position. “Trois coleurs: Bleu is a beautiful movie and you said you liked it, first of all. And I thought we were watching my movies because I’m the one healing.”

Penelope hesitates. “…Yes, but I may have also been doing a little eensy weensy bit of work at the same time because they’re also like, really slow and boring and Kevin needed the tiniest, tiniest bit of help on the Texas case.”

“Traitor!” Emily is aghast. “What about the deal?”

The deal, of course, was the promise they made each other after their third movie night. Emily was texting throughout The Muppets Take Manhattan and not entirely invested in Kermit and Miss Piggy’s wedding. Penelope was hurt, Emily was confused, and didn’t fully get it until Penelope fell asleep twenty minutes into Deux ou trois choses que je sais d'elle. From that point on, they agreed to compromise more on movie selection and to pay undivided attention to the films they did pick.

“You passed out! I thought the deal was void if you weren’t awake during your own movie!” Penelope said.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Emily argued.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going to wake up the person who just had surgery so they can pay attention to the third sad foreign movie of the day. You need your rest, and Kevin has maybe half of my inimitable skills!” Penelope’s words were jumbling together as she went up an octave. “I know I’m on vacation but the team needed help and I didn’t want to abandon them with some computer monkey who doesn’t know the first thing about my system, much less the way the team works, and isn’t even a regular assist on cases like me and—”

Penelope is cut off by three short raps at their front door. A welcome escape.

“Pen!” Emily calls after her. “We’re not done here!”

“I think we are!” Penelope shouts back. She passes down the hall and peers through the peep hole, though, she really doesn’t need to. She recognizes the voices on the other side.

“We’re not too early, are we?”

“It’s two in the afternoon, genius.”

“I mean in days since Emily’s operation. They might not be up to company.”

“Then we’ll say hi to baby girl and head out, no big deal.”

Penelope swings the door wide open. “Definitely say hi to me, definitely do that!”

Morgan and Reid stand in their building’s hallway, Derek carrying bags of Chinese food, and Spencer juggling some sort of gift basket. Their eyes are tired and Derek’s stubble is looking rougher than usual, but they perk up in the light of their friend.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan says. He comes in for a tight hug as he and Reid crowd themselves inside. “How’s everyone holdin’ up?”

“Peachy keen,” Penelope says. She squeezes Derek’s shoulder and leads them back to Emily by Reid’s hand. “Look who missed their favorite co-workers!”

“Hey, guys,” Emily says. Their heart warms at the sight of them. “What’re you doing here?”

“Now how’s that any way to greet a friend?” Morgan laughs. He lowers their takeout food to the coffee table and dives onto the couch beside Emily. “You been good to Garcia so far, or do we have to put the hurt on you?” He playfully punches Emily in their arm, and they cower in mock pain.

“Hey, no roughhousing!” Penelope scolds. “If anyone pulls any sort of muscle in the next twenty minutes, you’re all in timeout.”

Emily and Derek snicker in their seats and launch into the most recent case details. It’s a lot of the gory, icky stuff that Penelope doesn’t want to know unless she’s in her bat cave, so she takes Spencer and his basket into the kitchen.

“Doritos, huh?” he notices the bag Penelope drops on the counter. “You were trying to get something from them?”

Penelope answers with her head stuck in the fridge as she paws to the back for Spencer’s La Croix. “I may have wanted to watch one of my movies today, and I may have offered chips in payment.” She fishes a couple cans of LimonCello out, and huffs. “So what’s all this?”

“It’s from JJ. She wanted to come herself but didn’t think bringing Henry over was the best idea,” Spencer explains. He holds his drink gingerly with both hands and peers into the basket. It looks a lot like the one Penelope used for JJ’s baby shower, and is also definitely the same basket. Inside are a few bags of beef jerky, chocolate, a backscratcher with a little pink hand at its end, and an airline neck pillow with the Texas flag patterned over it.

“Awe. I’m definitely baking her cookies,” Penelope says. She leans back against the counter and eyes Spencer up and down. “Tough case?”

Spencer shifts from side to side and looks into the dark pit of his La Croix can. “Not much worse than usual. It was just… long. And Emily would’ve been a big help. None of us speak Spanish.”

“But you didn’t want to call right now,” Penelope guesses. “It’s all over though, right? All good? Everything wrapped up with a bow for good luck?”

Spencer nods and purses his lips. He looks over his shoulder to the living room, where Derek is describing something with his hands and Emily watches, wide-eyed and entertained. Spencer says, more to himself than Penelope, “It’s always good to be home.”

-❤-

Two Weeks Post-Op

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss!”

Emily freezes with one arm reaching desperately above doctor-recommended height, and another gripping the cabinet door like their life depends on it. They press their forehead into the shelf, groaning, “That’s not my middle name.”

“I can make up whatever name I want! You know what Dr. Dolan said, and this is so far out of bounds!” Penelope stands in the kitchen threshold with her hands on her hips. She sighs and tugs Emily away from the cereal cabinet by their waist. When their arms are safely lowered to their sides, Penelope puts on her serious face, with her seriously furrowed eyebrows, and her serious frown on her lips. She asks, “Do you, like, want to injure yourself? Is this your new favorite hobby?”

Emily is petulant. “No, I want breakfast, and it’s on the third shelf. Let’s just pretend you got it for me, okay?”

Penelope grumbles her frustrations under her breath as she pulls down the family size box of Lucky Charms. She flurries around the space until she’s collected a bowl and spoon and settled them on the other side of the kitchen counter, where a bar stool and carton of milk wait for Emily.

“Sit,” Penelope orders. Emily complies with a glint in their eyes.

“Thank you,” they say, saturating their words with genuine love.

“Oh, stuff it.” Penelope pecks a kiss to their cheek regardless. She tries not to think about how cute Emily is when they’re smug, but it’s a losing battle. The way their nose scrunches, the smirk; not helping. Instead, Penelope picks a smidgeon of a fight.

“Your hair is greasy.”

And Emily’s face falls flat and exasperated. They let their spoon rest in the pool of marshmallows. “Can we do this after I eat?”

“Oh, lovebug. Absolutely not,” Penelope smiles knowingly. “You haven’t washed it in like, four days, which tells me that it’s not as easy as you said it was. Y’know, I was wondering who said washing your own hair was too much work immediately after having an operation? It would have to be someone super smart and beautiful and funny and—”

“It was you, Penelope. We all know it was you.”

“Funny; it was, wasn’t it?”

But Penelope lets them finish their cereal. She was about to eat her own Eggo waffles, after all. Once the dishes are rinsed and in the washer, she marches Emily straight into their bathroom. The tub thankfully doesn’t share a wall with the toilet, making it easier for Emily to scoot in next to the faucet. Penelope folds Emily’s towel (the towel that is dark purple, and not spring green, which Penelope keeps carefully out of the splash zone) (unlike Emily, who does not mind if their towel is damp long after it should be dry, and probably growing some type of mold) (okay, it’s not growing mold, but Penelope insists that it will eventually become mold-ridden if Emily doesn’t start hanging it up more consistently) along the side of the tub. Emily fits the towel under their neck, and Penelope guides them into position.

“Your hair is so thick,” Penelope comments.

Emily says, “You tell me that once a week.”

“Because it is. Now close your eyes.”

Penelope detaches the removable showerhead and lets the water warm her hand. When it’s a comfortable temperature, she douses Emily’s head. She maneuvers carefully around Emily’s forehead to avoid hitting their face, though Emily’s eyelids flutter when they worry the stream is near. Penelope thinks with their long eyelashes, they look like butterflies about to take flight.

She works the shampoo in with a gentle, but thorough touch. It’s when she rubs the lather into Emily’s scalp that Emily lets a soft moan break, and Penelope smiles. She takes pride in her work, whether she’s at her desk or in her soapy bathroom.

The shampoo swirls down the drain as Penelope rinses Emily free. Emily opens their eyes and tries to sit up, but Penelope pins their shoulders to the tub.

“Hold on! I haven’t conditioned yet.”

“Isn’t shampoo enough? We’re going to be here again in three days. It’s a hassle.”

Penelope does not think so. For the low price of two-thousand dollars and the risk of post-op complications, Penelope’s seen her girlfriend relax for the first time in, maybe ever. She’s going to drag it out as long as she can. Which, for right now, means dumping a handful of conditioner into her palm and rubbing it through the tips of Emily’s hair.

The final rinse is cleansing, like the weight falls from Emily’s shoulders. Penelope swipes the towel from Emily’s neck and cocoons their hair inside. She manages to keep their shirt dry, for the most part. Emily sits up with a pain in their shoulders, and does their best to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope prompts. Their best is not nearly good enough, not when Penelope has the analytical eye of someone who loves them. Penelope plants Emily on their shared bed for the first time since their surgery, already grateful to have a little of Emily’s smell in the room again. She sits behind them and overlaps their legs with hers. Penelope digs into the knots wound through their back as if she's torturing for information.

“It’s almost like you have a stressful job or something,” Penelope says.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, something like that.”

Penelope massages her way down until Emily feels looser under her fingers. She leans her head into the crook of Emily’s shoulder and presses a kiss to their skin. “We could ask for more time off,” she offers.

Emily slouches against Penelope’s body. “We could. But we have to go back at some point.”

“Let’s pretend we don’t.”

Emily exhales. “Sounds good to me.”

[olivetreehugger]

SnK Scouts/Veterans as Health Care Workers

Note: features Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin and Hange. A part two to my “SnK Warriors as HCWs” post found here. warning: mentions of blood, trauma, gore (it’s healthcare). Also, I know Hange is nb, I headcanon them as female, so I will be using she/her pronouns. 

Eren: this boy is definitely too involved in everything and has too many people depending on him at once to not be a nurse. The kid barely passed the NCLEX but that didn’t stop him from applying to every trauma center within a 25 mile radius of him. He got hired as a night shift trauma ICU nurse  and he frequently picks up shifts in the ER. He wears the cheapest scrubs he can find, often stained with ink in the pockets area. He isn’t a shitty nurse per se but there are tasks that still need to be done at the end of his shift and he gives a crappy report that’s missing too many details. Nurses hate picking up his patients, it’s always a mess. His charting is really spotty and he gets called into the manager’s office all the time to fix it. 

Still, he tries really hard to improve his time management and skills. He wants to be like his friends Mikasa and Reiner, who are the best nurses he knows. He wants to be involved in the traumatic cases and emergencies because he wants to learn as much as he possibly can. He’s really good at wound care, for some reason (hint hint). He’s kinda cocky sometimes too, which can be troublesome when Dr. Galliard is working. People know to steer clear of those two when they’re both  in the ER. Also, Eren always has a black cloud around him; whenever he works it’s gonna be a hella busy day in the hospital. Lots of emergency surgeries, intubations, codes and deaths. He’ll always jump in to help you if your patient is crashing, though, no matter how busy he is. 

Mikasa: she’s a prodigy. She was a straight ‘A’ student in nursing school, got a perfect 75 on the NCLEX and was immediately hired to the trauma ICU after doing a short internship there. She worked night shift for a year but her sleep schedule was so so fucked she started having night terrors, so she switched to day shift. Eren still calls her a traitor for it :/. She keeps trying to get him to switch over but he just hisses at her and threatens to chug a case of Monster energy drinks. She hasn’t given upon him yet, though.

This girl’s work ethic is beyond measure. She comes in exactly at 6:30 am, looks up her patients, takes report, gives a great update to the doctors when they round, and provides impeccable care to her patients. She knows exactly which treatments the doctors will order before they even speak. She’s incredible at inserting IVs--everyone in the hospital knows Mikasa Ackerman can put an 18g in a 90  yr old lady’s arm AND get blood return (just trust me, it’s flipping impossible). She has great skill when it comes to emergency situations and is a big believer in team work. If she notices your patient’s crashing and you don’t know what to do, she’ll calmly coach you and save your patient, too. All before lunch time. 

It doesn’t take Mikasa long to be promoted to charge nurse. When she’s in charge all the reports, paperwork and audits are completed before shift change. She divides the patient assignments really well and is very fair to the new grads. All around she’s an incredible nurse and leader on her unit, but don’t be fooled. If it’s been a rough day, Mikasa will get in her car and sob so loud her throat goes raw. A lot of people depend on her and working in a trauma ICU is really, really demanding. A lot of patients are demanding, rude and busy. She has a lot of trouble with stress management and is thinking of cutting her hours down so she can catch a break. Someone please hug her <3

Armin: for some reason my brain is just SCREAMING respiratory therapist. Like, I imagine this beautiful blond boy in gray scrubs (the color for RT’s in my hospital) going around helping intubate patients, giving nebulizer treatments and doing blood gases. I can just see him huffing and puffing when the attending doctor is overzealous about weaning vent support. -“Why are we changing the patient to pressure support? do you see how tachypneic he is on volume control?”

-“are you gonna put in the order? if not, your patient’s gonna be on PRVC all day, I’m not changing it without an order”

-“Doc, the patient looks like crap and their blood gas looks like death...oh, you still wanna extubate? ok, well I’m gonna leave the ventilator in here just in case. better yet, let me call a pastor in here, too.”

This kid is sassy af and he knows it. He’s smart af too, knows everything there is to know about the lungs and respiratory care. Knows every ventilator mode better than most doctors. Will certainly tell a resident off for ordering the wrong type of inhaler for a patient. He’s so damn intelligent that he even made the ice queen Annie melt like a popsicle. 

 He has no chill when it comes to his patients and even less chill (like -4078875874670) when a doctor gets in his way. For this reason, Armin has recently been toying with the idea of going to PA school so he can have a little more autonomy. He works al over the hospital, usually frequenting the trauma, CV, and medical ICU. The nurses there love him. 

Jean: Jeannie boy. Baby. Sweetie. He’s also a nurse. He is strictly dayshift and trauma. When he first started, he thought he’d do a year in the ICU and then go to CRNA school. He didn’t want to be around sickly patients with hopes and dreams and fears--it was too icky for him. But, over time, he learned that he LOVED trauma. Jean loves the controlled chaos that comes with the ugly, bloody messes that roll in through the ICU’s doors. He always gears up for trauma season (summer time) by bringing Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for everyone on the unit (day and night shift because he’s a supportive king). He gets really good at dealing with arrogant trauma residents and ortho docs who think they’re hot shit. When Jean sees a resident yelling at a nurse, he jumps in and threatens to have their license revoked. He will dig under their skin and page them incessantly throughout the day, too, just to get back at them. Jean is not a fan of lateral violence in the workplace, no sir. 

He always, always makes sure every room is stocked and new bags are hanging for the next shift. He has a thing where if things aren’t properly organized on the unit his brain just spazzes. He’s on the unit council and education committee because he also loves to teach the new grads. He also doubles as charge nurse, when management can’t be there (there can be one or more charge nurses amongst the staff, they usually work different days, though) He and Mikasa work so well together, teaming up to get tasks done, coding patients, running them down to get scanned, etc. People joke they’re the mom and dad of the unit. It makes them both blush <3 (Eren doesn’t like it, lol)

Jean loves to see patients healing from horrendous injuries, he’s constantly cracking jokes with the awake patients to try to make them feel better, and he’s really good at calming anxious family members down. Our boy just makes such good connections with people. He’s the guy you call when your confused patient is one second away from ripping his breathing tube out. He can convince the most restless, agitated patient to chill out. He’s got the voice for it. Also people love his mullet. It looks great. 

Connie: I really didn’t know at first but I feel like Connie would make a great physical therapist. He’s got great energy, he’s funny and I could see him dancing to Earth, Wind & Fire in front of his patients to hype them up for therapy. He’d be very sweet with them 

Sasha: I’m sick and tired of the food jokes, quite honestly. She’s more than that. In my mind, she’s an occupational therapist, helping disabled patients learn to feed, dress and clean themselves again. She works directly with Connie as they round on all their patients in the hospital, they make a great team!  She’s extremely patient and would make a very good nurse, but is unsure of where life is taking her. That is until she meets Niccolo the dietician in the cafeteria, and she falls hard. He encourages her to follow her heart and she does!  

Levi: Hm. This one stumped me. Levi is a bit...cold. It’s not like he has incredible social skills. He’s meticulous and focused and kinda mean? He reminds me of an anesthesiologist, tbh. Like he’ll sedate the shit outta you for surgery, makes sure you don’t die on the table, and then drops you off to the unit as fast as he can. He never takes off his mask while in the hospital and he scrubs maybe four times before surgery. He is very good at medication calculations and knows everything about nerve blocks, intubation, pain medication and sedation. He can look at a person and just KNOW what kind of sedative to give and how much. Your blood pressure will never bottom out while he’s there, he’ll warn the surgeon and immediately get that norepinephrine started.

 If Zeke is the one operating, Levi is on his ass to finish up the surgery ASAP and to not linger, because Zeke takes his time and ignores the tele monitor alarming in the background. After surgery, this 5′2 demon will scream at the 6′ resident about the importance of blood pressure management and sedation in neurosurgical patients. Levi plays no games and he also just really hates Zeke lol

He seems like a jerk but genuinely cares about getting his peeps through surgery. His favorite surgeon to work with is Hange Zoe, because she’s brilliant and fast, but also cognizant of her patient’s hemodynamics. Levi likes taking trauma cases as long as it’s with her. When he drops a patient off to the trauma ICU or goes there to intubate, he makes sure Jean or Mikasa are there because he knows everything is gonna go smoothly. He trusts them a lot. He likes Armin, too and even let him intubate a few times. On his breaks, he’s drinking tea and reading a Williams & Sonoma catalog or scrolling through cleaning Tik Tok lol.

Erwin: This man. This beautiful and hunky beefcake. Omg. I HC him as someone who went to nursing school, became a charge nurse on the trauma unit back in the early 2000′s and fell in love with it. Erwin would eventually fall in love with leadership and educating, too. He went back to school and earned his Doctorate of Nursing Practice (a practice doctorate). He managed the trauma unit for ten years before his brilliant leadership skills and wicked smart brain got him elected as the Director of Trauma Surgery recently. He is the first person with a nursing degree and DNP to ever accomplish this, so it’s very controversial. A lot of toxic doctors threaten to leave the hospital for this (because they’re assholes), but Erwin threatens to fire them in response and it usually shuts them up. 

He often holds lectures in the hospital auditorium. With a mind and voice like his, people are so drawn in by him. He advocates for nursing staff, for reimbursement when continuing their education, better staffing, parking, etc. He makes nice with doctors and gets them to sign petitions for the nurses to get these things. He’s a bit manipulative He’s also a fantastic manager and director, he’s really good at negotiating things. The nurses and residents all love him because he rounds on every ICU frequently, brings food, and asks them how he can help. He can be a bit daunting because of his height and deep voice but once he starts talking to you, you just get sucked in. All around an absolute king. 

Hange: This character reminds me of a trauma surgeon and intensivist (ICU doctor) we have, Dr. Omi. A great surgeon, really really smart, but takes absolutely NO bullshit. She will yell at you if you freeze during intubating. She wants you to recite every step before you take it, otherwise she’ll take the tube from you and do it herself. In surgery, she’s the same way. She wants you to learn, but by her standards. If she asks a question, you better know the answer or fess up right away, she doesn’t like the “uhms” of uncertainty as you try to search for a shitty response. Either you know it or you don’t. And if you don’t, she’ll teach you. Yeah she can be rough around the edges, but she’s got a big heart. She loves her trauma team. She buys them breakfast and gives them funny personalized gifts. One time, she bought an apply tree for Mikasa and brought it to her car at the end of a shift. Mikasa forgot to plant it and it died in her backseat. Hange will sometimes ask, “Mikasa, how’s your apple tree growing?” and Mikasa will lie through her teeth. “It’s growing!” Fess up, Mikasa. Those google search apple trees are starting to look familiar.

All around Hange loves to work and teach. She is a wonderful trauma surgeon and has saved tons of lives.  

[shhh-no-ones-home]

how to save a life bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++

Good old whump 😌 this is so fucking long (wc: 2113)

also i know some people are weird about dogs so just know reader has a very large typically seen as aggressive kind of dog (but hes not, just a little slobbery and awkward lol)

Song: say something by danny worsnop and matty mullins 

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

"I can't take your shit anymore. If you won't do anything about it then I will! I quit!"

I yelled, untying my apron and tossing it at my manager. One of the cooks had been harassing me for the last couple weeks and he refused to say or do anything. But I had reached my breaking point.

"Come on y/n, we need you! You can't leave me short staffed like that."

He whined and I shook my head, making my way to the back door.

"No, fuck you Rodney, you can find someone else to deal with it."

I said annoyed, clocking out, grabbing my stuff and storming out the back. I gave him the finger as the door slammed behind me, sighing angrily at myself for not finding a new job sooner.

"Fuck!"

I yelled, kicking the brick wall before leaning into it, shoving my head in my hands. Then I heard a harsh cough. My attention snapped towards the man limping through the alley way, seemingly clutching at his side.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I asked, reaching into my bag and gripping my pepper spray tightly.

"Sir?"

I asked again, moving closer to him in the darkness. When he looked up at me I realized who it was. I had seen pictures of him before. What was his name? James? Yeah captain Americas bear friend. From the museum.

"Help."

He managed before falling face first into the dirt. I gasped as I watched his body go limp. In that moment I wasn't quite sure what to do. I couldn't call someone cause I didn't know who to call, and God it was gonna take everything in me to get him back to my apartment. But I couldn't just leave him here. Shit. I sighed before kneeling down and rolling him over. His face was bruised and bloodied, the same as the knuckles on his hand. He must have really gotten into it with someone. I bit my lip before sitting him up with a groan.

"Okay james, work with me here."

I sighed out, going around him and picking him up. He made a soft noise and I looked at him, his eyelids bobbing open for a second.

"Two blocks, that's all it is."

I told myself more than anything, slinging his arm over my shoulder and walking with him dragging his feet. The whole walk was labored breathing and groaning. He was heavier than he looked but then again he was pretty much solid muscle. And though he wasn't much help I could tell he was trying. That endurance was paying off a little bit. But as soon as we were to my apartment he was out, practically falling through the door after I opened it. I only just caught him, laying him on the floor gently and dragging him to the couch. As I tried to put him on it I could hear my dog whining and tapping his toes in his crate.

"Give me a minute Wolf."

I said half annoyed as I got James flat on his back. When I was content with him laying there I let my massive akita-rottweiler mix out of his crate. He immediately went to James and started sniffing him excitedly until I snapped my fingers at him.

"Hey, leave the nice man alone. Let's go potty."

I said, him barking and running towards the door. I quickly got his leash on and took him down to the streets of new York. We walked a good block before finally heading back to my apartment. After I took Wolfs leash off he was right back in James' face.

"Hey, what did I say? Go lay down."

I instructed, him making a sad sound before pouting his way to his large bed in front of the window. I sighed, looking over James with my hands on my hips. Then I noticed a darkened spot just under his jacket and immediately began to worry.

"Shit. Is that blood?"

I said, stepping closer. I watched his face as I knelt down, pushing the coffee table further away from the couch.

"James I don't know if you can hear me but I'm gonna undo your jacket."

I said in a clear voice, watching to see if he moved but he didn't, prompting me to go on anyway. When the front of it was undone I gasped. He was indeed bleeding. It took me a minute to get it fully off, his shirt following right after. To my surprise his whole torso was covered in scrapes and bruises, along with what seemed to be a gunshot wound. Luckily it was only a graze. That I could treat.

"What the hell were you doing?"

I asked out loud even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I shook my head before going to get the first aid kit from under my bed, wolf following me around my apartment. I guess lucky for him I went to medical school, I mean I flunked out my last semester, but still. That's only three months I'd have to finish before I'm a licensed nurse. I had this. Right?

"God I hope I don't have to sew this man shut."

°°°°°°°°°

The next few hours I just sat at my breakfast bar staring at him in the living room, sipping coffee and trying not to wake Wolf who was now fast asleep at my feet. I was waiting patiently for him to wake up, to make noise, to move even an inch. but it never happened. He was however still breathing, the portable heart monitor I had attached to his finger beeping softly.

When the sun started peering through my curtains though I figured it was best to check on him again. After all, I would need to change his bandages soon so whatever it was that hit him didn't get infected. Wolf for one was very excited again for me to be working on the stranger, running to him and getting in his face again.

"Wolf!"

I scolded, James jolting upright as I pulled the collar back on his large black neck.

"Sorry."

I said through a nervous laugh. He looked around for a moment before looking down and wincing in pain as he touched his abdomen.

"Go lay down."

I said harshly, wolf not quite budging at first. But going when I nudged him with my knee.

"Um, I hope you don't mind that. I did as best I could but it's been a while. I was gonna come change them."

He stared at me, looking to wolf in his bed when he sighed.

"Thank you."

He said softly and I nodded.

"Do you mind laying back down? It's a little easier."

I said and he did, slowly, watching my every move as I knelt beside him. I dug into my kit to get new dressing, peeling the old off and shaking my head. It was still bleeding but there wasn't much I could do about it.

"Do you remember much about last night James?"

I asked and he shook his head no, the dog tags around his neck shifting. I focused intently on what I was doing, hearing wolf sigh again. I rolled my eyes, sending him a playful look.

"You aren't afraid of dogs are you James?"

I asked and he shook his head again.

"Okay wolf, come here."

He stood quickly, panting as he came over and stood beside me, looking like he had a wide smile on his face as he sat down. James looked up at him and smiled back, bringing his right hand to scratch at wolf's head. It was a good distraction as I fixed his wounds for a second time. As I put the stuff away I was forced to remember he was still shirtless.

"Oh uh, I washed your shirt too, it was pretty soaked through."

He nodded, making a pained face as he moved to sit up, letting me help as he did. Wolf took that as an invitation to get on the couch, his large dog body taking up a good portion of it as he laid across James' lap. I looked to the ceiling as he laughed, petting him some more.

"I'm so sorry. If you want him off all you have to do is tell him to get down."

I said standing up, going to the kitchen to wash my hands.

"I don't mind it, he reminds me of an old friend."

He lamented as I came back, wiping my hands on a towel.

"They must've been one hell of a friend."

He nodded slowly.

"Hey uh, you can call me Bucky. if you want."

I reached for his hand and shook it.

"Y/n."

"Thanks for this y/n."

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm not gonna lie James, uh Bucky, I was a little shook up last night. I had just quit my job when you came stumbling down the alley I almost wasn't sure what to do with you. And I know as a citizen I probably should have called an ambulance but as an ally..."

I paused. he looked a little more into what i had to say now.

"I've, well, I've been around the block with a string of heroes before and none of them could ever actually get help from paramedics. So I did what I could."

He nodded.

"I really appreciate it y/n, I must've been desperate after all, to go to a complete stranger."

He laughed.

"I'm just glad you found me and not someone else. Or who knows what could have happened."

"those were my thoughts exactly."

there was a long pause, me standing awkwardly and both of us staring at the floor. then Wolf barked, taking both of our attention as i jumped at the sudden sound.

"guess he agrees."

i said and he laughed again.

"ya know i really appreciate this. is there a way i could repay you? some how?"

he asked and i shook my head.

"no, i couldn't let you do that. really."

i said quickly, holding my hand out, watching as he struggled to stand.

"i want to."

he insisted, stumbling forward and i caught him. he panted out a pained noise.

"knowing you're safe is enough. come over here, lets get you something to eat."

i said, walking him slowly to the bar i was just sat at and feeling his back muscles strain against my palm as i held him upright.

"careful, you keep taking care of me i might never leave."

he said through a wince as i placed him in the chair.

"promise?"

i laughed and he sent me a soft look before smiling. i could feel the blush run across my face as i moved to the fridge, making a face like i was an idiot for saying that.

"uh i went to school to be a nurse after taking care of my last boyfriend. he was terminally ill but didnt want to stay at a care facility. i guess ive kind of been missing it since he passed last year."

"im sorry."

he said quietly as i pulled things out of the fridge for breakfast.

"its alright. ive been getting by. plus i have wolfie over there to keep me busy."

i said with a smile, the large dog wagging his tail as he sat at the edge of the kitchen.

"im sure he appreciated all you did for him."

bucky said and i nodded once, moving to the stove.

"uh, how do you like your eggs?"

he turned in the chair to look at me.

"what's your specialty?"

i laughed.

"anything but poached."

he smiled widely at me.

"over easy please."

"great. that i can do."

there was another long silence as i began frying the eggs. then he cleared his throat.

"would it be a little Stockholm syndrome-y to ask you out after saving my life?"

i let out a short, loud, laugh before looking at him.

"oh you're serious?"

i asked and he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"unless youre not looking but the least i could do is take you to dinner."

i nodded slowly, plating the food and setting the plates on the counter.

"im not but i wouldnt say no to dinner. and who knows, maybe id be open to seeing you after. maybe with a shirt and not bleeding on my couch."

he picked up the fork and raised it in cheers to me.

"ill take it. and its the least i could do. as a thank you."

"its a date then."

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager. 

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around. 

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount. 

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip. 

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange. 

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since. 

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.” 

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two. 

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door. 

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was. 

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman. 

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else. 

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass. 

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans. 

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?” 

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour. 

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number. 

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market. 

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream. 

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River. 

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty. 

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting. 

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

 “Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!” 

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.” 

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?” 

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.” 

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?” 

“My pride and joy.” 

June 13 (sun)

 Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto. 

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits. 

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee. 

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.” 

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically. 

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.” 

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?” 

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

 June 15 (tues)

 It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her. 

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her. 

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry. 

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one. 

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.” 

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?” 

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.” 

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.” 

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home” 

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered. 

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh. 

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said. 

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off. 

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging. 

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?” 

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.” 

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right? 

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said. 

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight. 

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

[powerosewaterpuff]

yk so i was watching bmw (boy meets world :) ) while procrastinating an essay so oF COURSE i decided to write some more of my reverse robin au (that pertains to jason being the oldest of the batkids w/ him and dick growing up together) except fLUFF bc i cannot handle angst rn (oR cOulD I wE wiLL nEvER kNoWwwW)

oh and disclaimer there may be several medical inaccuracies so please feel free to correct me :)

jason often gets night terrors, ones that can get particularly awful when bruce goes on an overnight business trip. so one night bruce is in new york after being forced into it by lucius, with dick being adopted for some time now. dick was awake because he was having trouble sleeping, for no real particular reason in all honesty. he heard a short yell though, coming from the room next to him and he dashed over, tripping over his blanket and still gripping zitka tightly. he knew that he wasn’t supposed to fight yet, but he doesn’t really think about that as he yanked jason’s door open.

he then saw his brother laying on his side, turning back and forth, breathing heavily looking so visibly pained it was hurting dick. he rushed over to jason, his eyes darting around because he just didn’t know what to do. taking his chances he tapped jason’s shoulder gently, and he already felt like it wasn’t the right move but he sucked it up and tried again, only this time to some result. jason shot up, gripping on tightly to dick’s arm, his eyes hazy and unfocused and his chest heaving.

dick remained still, only slowly trying to push jason off of him and back into his bed. jason’s grip didn’t let but he laid back in bed, squeezing his eyes tightly as if he was trying to push away everything he had just witnessed. dick took this as an initiative to gently climb into bed, as jason fell back into a less violent but equally as stressful sleep. he placed zitka next to jason, who still hasn’t let go of his arm, and awkwardly sat up in bed, almost acting as a protector. slowly, dick began to doze off, feeling a lot more comforted in his brothers prescence then he had been in his own room.

jason on the other hand, doesn’t remember much of that night, as he rarely fully remembers any of his night terrors (only the scars they leave behind), but when he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn with a few fragments of something he would prefer not to remember, he puts it together rather quickly. he guessed it would happen, and he could’ve told bruce and he knew the guy would drop anything in a heartbeat, but that pissed him off, more so then it justifiably should. he wasn’t a child and he hadn’t been a child for a long fucking time, and it was stupid that he couldn’t deal with a single night without bruce. jason then turned onto his side, disgruntled with a new found rage directed at himself that he might take out on someone else, when he found dick, sleeping at an awkward position.

he was leaning on the headboard, but was slumped down and drooling a bit, which would have been hilarious blackmail material on any other given day. but today, jason felt a pit in his stomach. the only rational thought that his mind could conjure in its fear muddled frenzy was please tell me i didn’t hurt dick, pleasepleasepleaseplease. he quickly checked over dick’s face, cupping his checks and looking for any signs of a bruise. he had given bruce a particularly nasty one earlier in his tenure at the manor, after bruce attempted to restrain him while he was having a night terror so he could avoid hurting himself, instead jason kicked him in the jaw. he even felt bad about it the next day, which was an odd surprise for him at the time.

after checking over dick hasilty, he could see he wasn’t all that hurt, even though if he looked hard enough he could see inklings of nail shaped markings in dick’s right arm just under his shirt sleeve. jason felt a bit of bile rising up, as he gently shifted dick into a better sleeping position, and pulled the blanket up to his chin and slipped a pillow underneath him. dick opened his bleary eyes, mumbling jason’s name in question, and squinting his eyes. jason rolled his eyes but nodded, “yeah, it’s me. now sleep–why’re you shaking yer head? you don’ wanna sleep? too bad.” jason pressed another pillow onto the side of dicks face in a teasing attempt to smother him to sleep, but dick only proceeded to giggle, and snuggle closer to jason, who had sat up already. jason tossed the pillow to the side after a few seconds of play fighting, dick was going to be too sleepy to remember this break in the ‘teasing older brother’ façade. so, he ran his hand through his little brothers hair and laid back down, tracing soft circles into dick’s scalp absentmindedly. and feeling a rush of gratitude that bruce had brought this little circus boy into his life. he really didn’t know what he would do without his little brother. (needless to say, dick became a constant comforter in jason’s night terrors).

jason blames dick for everything. if a vase got knocked over, it was a dick. if the tv wasn’t working, dick had been playing with the satellite. if his phone was missing, dick stole it to play games. if his sweater had a stain, you better bet it was dick. the boy in question, of course, adamantly denies these facts and does have a way of persuading bruce (he is the golden child after all, jason could testify to that), but bruce also knows both of his boys are annoyingly good liars. so every incident is treated like a little miniature crime scene, and it never fails to make jason howl in laughter at dick explaining how he couldn’t have possibly used up jason’s shampoo because he has his own washroom with his own shampoo and so w h y jason w h y would i steal your shampoo. (jason’s usual response is a deadpanned ‘why wouldn’t you’, and that just gives bruce another headache as the two bicker on and on and on.)

the pair of them usually go biking together, and it’s usually quite tranquil to start. until dick makes a sly comment that jason’s old bones must be so tired from cycling, so why not take a break? jason snide reponse is how the fuck are you touching the pedals with your stubby ass legs. that’s really all it takes for them to delve into a full on biking race. it never really ends well, but the two always come out rolling in laughter so whose to complain.

dick thinks real housewives of beverly hills is better then new jersey, and jason is adamant that new jersey is superior in every shape and way. the two agree that atlanta is the absolute winner no matter what though.

jason is dick’s english tutor. and it’s safe to say that it’s an experience. dick already knew a fair amount of english growing up, his father had been a wonderful teacher but it wasn’t exactly up to gotham academy standards apparently (jason knew the feeling) and his accent was still quite prevalent to have him be considered an esl kid, so jason ended up being his tutor once dick started going to english class at school and after his time with an esl instructor. jason, who has an untapped passion for literature that not many can match, is absolutely dedicated to teaching dick, because fuck man this is genius! genius, dick! and dick isn’t exactly a fan, but he does secretly think jason should be a teacher, he’s better then any of the teachers he’s had that’s for sure (his father would’ve really loved jason too, that was also for sure). and dick is considering buying him a little briefcase with his little initials on it. ((it happens, and jason tries really really hard not to cry))

bruce is absolutely that parent that secretly takes pictures of every single moment possible. he isn’t a photographer, in any sense, but he likes to capture natural moments, and he has a series of pictures dedicated to the one trip him and the boys took to Barbados where he started this habit. he wasn’t and still isn’t a big fan of beaches, they’re hot, crowded and just too much for bruce to feel any kind of comfortable in. he remembers sitting under a floppy beach umbrella, feeling the knot in his chest sit heavily on his heart, fire ants scurrying across the underlining of his skin, burning under the side stares of those passing by. it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of dick riding on jason’s little shoulders, as they trotted around waist deep in the clear ocean water, that the fist squeezing his heart like the rotten fruit it was began to ease. he glanced down at the camera that alfred had subtly slipped into their bag after dicks insistence, and lifted it up to fiddle with it slightly. then raised it up to take a swift picture. capturing jason mid laughter as he leaned back, in a joking attempt to shake dick off who was in the middle of a yelp but had entrenched his hands in jason’s mop of curly hair. it was hilarious imperfect, but bruce would not want it any other way. not at all.

(jason found it once. he saw the picture at the corner of his eye sitting by the keyboard of the ‘Batcomputer’ ((dick was so shitty with names, thank god he didn’t come up with flippy man as his code name )), and he hesitated for a moment before hastily grabbing it. examining it with an unexpected amount of gentleness, he rubbed his thumb against the glass above dick’s hands in his hair and felt something snake around his heart. slowly and methodically seeping into it until he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. then he heard damian trotting down the stairs as he explained the details of his anthropology class to dick who was hopping down behind him. jason shoves the picture back and grits his teeth together to ignore the sting that was absolutely not in his eyes)

aAAAND THATS ALL!! i’ve had these in my notes for a while so it’s relief to get them out there hehe so i really hope y’all enjoy ive legit been falling in love with this reverse au bC THERE IS SO MUCH POTENTIAL U G H IVE NEVER BEEN EXCITED TO WRITE SHIT UNTIL NOW SO Y A Y FOR INSPIRATION

Y A Y :)

[appalachianwiine]

Swim Chapter 9 - A Friend

Chapter 9

And if it feels like it's already over

Lean in closer, rest your bones

You've got a friend when times get mean

Yeah, in the meantime I'm on your team

“In the Meantime” - Randall Kent

The day passed in an odd sense of time for Carol, while the kids and her classes kept her busy enough the moments between periods and over lunch seemed to stretch on forever. The opening and closing of the heavy classroom doors shoved and yanked by teenagers all too ready to leave class brought back clear memories of heavy hospital doors being swung open and the room filling with people. Every time a phone would chime or the office would call she’d be dragged back to memories of the nurses calling in codes and shouting for doctors.

3 o’clock came and went and instead of staying after to grade papers or work on paperwork she started cleaning up the classroom to leave. To get to the hospital by 430 she needed to be out of here by 4. She moved robotically through the motions of wiping down the desks and straightening the textbooks. Her mind was with Lydia and Daryl now.

She knew all too well the feeling of being in one of those rooms, time lost to the hospital. Morning, noon, and night change to first shift, second shift, third shift. Hours turning to IV drip times and vitals checks. It could crush a person alone like that and Daryl seemed to think he was very alone. She got the sense he had been for a long time and it worried her. It reminded her of Leah and Matthew really, they’d come from a small farm in northern Georgia and despite all of Carol’s pushing and offering and turning up Leah had never been friendly. Even Ezekiel hadn’t managed to get more then a few words at a time from the woman and he could get just about anybody to talk. She didn’t want to see Daryl and Lydia facing the same sort of isolation.

Carol stopped to pick up coffee for her and Daryl on the way to the hospital. It wasn’t a lot but sometimes a warm drink that wasn’t crappy hospital coffee could make a difference. Pulling into the hospital parking lot she spots a familiar face. The dark haired woman and little boy who’d come to see Lydia and Daryl a few days ago.

“Excuse me!” Carol calls, hurrying to catch up. The woman turns around. “Sorry sorry are you going to see Daryl and Lydia?”

“Yes.” The woman nods. “You must be Carol, from the group. I’m Dr. Grimes.”

“Yeah, Carol.” Carol nods. “Dr. Grimes, it’s nice to met you. Have you known Daryl for long?”

“Seven years almost. Carl was just a baby when my husband and Daryl started working together.” Dr. Grimes says. “I’ve been Lydia’s pediatrician since Daryl adopted her four years ago.”

“Oh.” Carol frowns, “Then you -”

“Caught the cancer?” Dr. Grimes nods. “Yeah, something was wrong, I pushed the lab to expedite the sample, and I’m glad I did it but I have to say that wasn’t ever a call I expected to make in my career. Especially not to someone I know so personally like Daryl. It’s the worst phone call I’ve ever made.”

“I can imagine.” Carol nods. “But I’m glad he has friends behind him, he needs them.”

“Well maybe you could tell him to call every now and then.” Dr. Grimes mutters, pressing the elevator door button. “He nearly gave us a heart attack the first time he called. It was nearly a full 24 hours after he came to the hospital.”

“It’s overwhelming.” Carol frowns. “Learning your kid is that sick, I’m sure he didn’t mean to worry you. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s too nice.” Dr. Grimes sighs. “Carl step away from the doors or they won’t close.” She pulls the little boy back a step or two by his shirt. “Every time i call it’s vague answers and I know he doesn’t want to worry us but still…”

“He doesn’t want to be a burden.” Carol nods. “It’s - it’s pretty common in this world. Most people pull away when they learn you or your child has cancer. And the ones that don’t - we don’t want to burden the people who stay.”

“He’s always been like that.” Dr. Grimes sighs. “I just wish I knew how to help so he didn’t have to ask.”

“I can help with that.” Carol offers. “If you want.”

“Really?” Dr. Grimes says, ushering Carl out of the elevator. “What can we do.”

“Well - right now… everything is kind of managed for them, the doctors and nurses tell him how to clean, when to eat and sleep, what medications to take when.” Carol explains as they begin the walk down the hall. “When they get home, it’s - it’s going to be a lot scarier. Because then everything is on Daryl. If you’d like my help I’d like to help prepare the house for when he and Lydia get back. Pill organizers, cleaning supplies, wound care, that sort of thing.”

“Okay.” Dr. Grimes says. “Yeah, of course we’ll help.”

“Moooommmmm” Carl whines. “You’re being slow.”

“Alright, alright.” Dr. Grimes rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Sorry about him, this is the most he and Lydia have been apart in a long time. They were in the same class at school, and they were supposed to go to camp together this summer.”

“It’s fine.” Carol chuckles, picking up the pace slightly.

Lydia’s room has a white board attached to the door reading;

LYDIA DIXON - 8 YRS

IV VINCRISTINE

“Mom what’s vin - vin -” Carl frowns. “That?”

“It’s medicine baby.” Dr. Grimes says. “To help Lydia get better, but it might make her feel sick so we need to be quiet and calm when we go in okay?”

“Okay.” Carl nodded solemnly, reaching for his moms hand.

Carol leans forward and knocks on the door.

“Come in.” A tired, gruff voice says.

Carol pushes the door open and holds it for Dr. Grimes and Carl to go in first. Lydia is curled up in a ball on Daryl’s lap, pale as a ghost and wrapped in a blanket.

“Carl!” Lydia mutters, moving off Daryls lap and holding her arms out. Carl looks up at his mom and she nudges him forward. That’s all it takes for him to rush over and embrace Lydia.

“Hey Daryl.” Carol smiles. “I brought you decent coffee.”

“Thank.” He mutters, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “T’ be hones I think I’m too tired t’ tell the decent stuff from the shit stuff.”

“Long night?” Carol asks.

“Yeah.” Daryl mutters. “Thanks fer comin’.”

“Of course.” She offers a supportive smile.

“How’s Carl an’ Judith?” Daryl asks turning to Dr. Grimes.

“Judith started walking, much to Shane’s horror. I sometimes forget this is the first baby he’s responsible for.” Dr. Grimes chuckles.

“Hey that’s a hell of a shock.” Daryl says. “Imagine getting a four year old and having no parenting experience.”

“You’re doing great.” Dr. Grimes says.

“Thanks Lori.” Daryl mutters. “So uh, you met Carol?”

“Yeah we ran into each other in the parking lot.” Carol nods. “So, how you holding up?”

“Um.” He glances at Lydia and Carl, who are now both wrapped in Lydia’s blanket on the end of the bed and whispering to each other. “It’s uh - it’s been a rough day. Henry and Ezekiel came by earlier, tha’ was nice. But It’s just kinda...”

“Numb?” Carol asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. “Numb. I was uh lookin’ at this binder and it’s - it’s like… it’s insane. I mean, three months in the hospital getting intensive chemotherapy. How do - how I even prepare for that?”

“You ask for help.” Lori whispers. “And you take it when it’s offered.”

“She’s right Daryl.” Carol says. “Those stays are impossibly hard when you’re on your own, so you let us help.”

Daryl didn’t look so sure about that, and next to her, Lori folded her arms. “Daryl Dixon. You’re not on your own anymore and trying to do it all on your own isn’t going to let you focus on Lydia. So you’re going to let us help. Got it?”

“Alright, alright.” Daryl runs a hand over his face.

“And right now you’re going to let us help by going down to the cafeteria with Carol and getting some real food.” Lori continues, looking over at Carol and raising an eyebrow. “Because if theres one thing you look like you could use right now it’s a good meal and an adult conversation.”

“I shouldn’t leave Lydia.” Daryl argues.

“She’s fine.” Lori insists. “She knows me, and she and Carl can watch a movie.”

“Lyd?” Daryl asks quietly. The little brunette turns back to look at her dad. “You okay if I go get some food with Ms. Carol?”

Lydia cocks her head and looks between the two of them. “I… I guess. You’ll come back?”

“Soon as I’m done.” Daryl nods, leaning over and kissing her hair.

“Okay.” Lydia nods.

“You two want to watch a movie?” Lori asks, motioning them out of the room.

Daryl lingers and Carol reaches out and touches his arm lightly. “Come on, they’ll be fine.”

Daryl doesn’t say a word until they’re out of the room. “Sorry about Lori she’s just -”

“She’s looking out for you.” Carol cuts him off. “I know it feels awful leaving her right now, but you have to take a minute to recharge too. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“You don’t have -”

“I’m doing it.” Carol insists. “We can go over that if you want.” She nods at the binder still in his hands. “I uh, I know pretty well whats in there. I’m sure you have questions.”

“Oh.” He frowns at the folder. “Do uh - do we have to?”

“No.” Carol says, stepping into the elevator. “We can just chat if you want. Try to get your mind off of everything in there.”

Fifteen minutes later she and Daryl are sat with a soda and sandwich each at the back of the cafeteria. Daryl seems to realize he’s hungry and inhales half the sandwich without a word, he pauses abruptly, mayonnaise on his face and turns red.

“Sorry.” He mutters, reaching for a napkin. “I uh -”

“No need.” Carol smiles. “I’ve been there, any food you have eaten has been eaten in between what little sleep you’re getting.”

“Not gettin’ much ‘f either at the momen’.” Daryl mutters. “Lydia was up most of the nigh’ sick again. Probably will be again t’night. The only time she settles is when I hold her.”

“Yeah Sophia was like that.” Carol nods, taking a bite of her own sandwich.”

“I’m usually pretty strict ‘bout everyone sleepin’ in their own bed but I can’t bring myself t’ say no right now.”

“Sophia only slept with me when she was sick too.” Carol nods. “I was always bad at saying ‘no’ while she was sick, but they do need some semblance of structure and routine.”

“Yeah.” Daryl nods taking a swig of his coke. “Tha’s gonna be hard, I know when we get home an’ she’s safe an’ secure again she’s gonna lash out an’ stuff, but I’m gonna have a damn hard time keeping boundaries.”

“I did too.” Carol nods. “Sophia was processing a lot at her diagnosis - our living situation had changed, I left her dad, it was a nightmare.” Silence hangs between them. “Have they said when you’re going home?”

“Hopefully sometime next week.” Daryl mutters.

“Okay.” Carol nods. “Lori and I are going to get the house ready for you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Carol sighs. “You’ll need some things, medical supplies, pill organizers, hand sanitizer, bedding. Something I like to do for the families here is help get their house ready to be home again.”

“You don’-” He stops, seeming to take what they’d said earlier in. “Thanks Carol.”

“It’s why I’m here.” She says, taking a bite of her own sandwich. “No one was for Sophia and I and I’m not gonna let that happen to anyone.”

“Her dad a dick?” The blunt way he says it makes her raise her eyebrows. “Sorry.” He mutters sheepishly. “I uh - I shouldn’ ha-“

“It’s fine.” She says quickly. “He uh - he was yeah. I left because I thought he hurt our little girl.” The words tumble out before she can stop them and she blinks, stunned at herself. She never spoke of Ed. She never spoke of why she was single. She left it at messy divorce and that was that.

“Shit.” Daryl mutters.

“Yeah.” Carol nods.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It ain’. Ain’ nothing I can say gonna make it okay neither.”

There’s that blunt honesty again. Harsh, but welcome. No ‘I’m so sorry that happened’ or ‘you’re so strong’ just ‘ain’ nothing I can say gonna make it okay neither.’

“You’re special victims yeah?” Carol asks.

“Yeah.” Daryl nods.

“So I guess you’ve seen some of that.” She nods.

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs between them again.

“Thanks.” He says. “Fer all yer doin’ fer Lydia an’ I.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I’ve walked this path before. A little closer then I’d like, so if you need anything or just want some adult conversation just call.” Carol says.

“I- yeah, I will.” Daryl nods. “I uh, didn’ mean t’ scare ya this mornin’ if I did. I jus’ - you’re the only person I could think of to call.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She smiles, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “You’re a good dad Daryl, and you’re gonna get through this.” Her attempt at a reassuring smile falls a little flat, because this time she’s not telling the entire truth. He will get through it, but Lydia? She was a different story all together, one with possibilities no parent wants to face.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Hurt S/o! | Shikamaru + Kiba + Shino | ANGST + Fluff | HC’s

Request: This is my first request so please forgive and correct me if I do something wrong. I was wondering if you could maybe do an angsty headcanons for Shikimaru, Kiba, and Shino from Naruto’s reaction to their S/O getting seriously injured protecting them. If the S/O recovers or dies and the enemy is all up to you, I’ve just noticed a real lack in content for them and I’m craving it hard. Please and thank you!

Word Count: 1953 words

Page Count: 5.5 pages

A/N: i got so caught up in writing this it became way too long lmao. im sorry i forgot about naruto :( but i hope you do enjoy the rest! i made sure to end everything well. i have a shit ton of angst requests so i thought id leave this on a happier note :)

Tags: @bipolartryingtosurvive

Shikamaru Nara

- I could see this being during the Hidan fight.

- Hes set the plan in motion at that point.

- And you’re to make sure Hidan is distracted for the time being .

- Hidan may be an ass, but he isn’t dumb.

- He notices how you are keeping him from Shikamaru.

- Fucking LIVID

- You notice how hes shifting your fight closer to Shikamaru until he gets to the point where he definitely can get a deep slash into the Nara.

- You knew he was trying to get to him.

- You were fast, one of the fastest in the village, but that was because you were fairly weak when it came to strength.

- You tried to zip around, gaining speed and momentum, and within seconds- right when Hidan was going to bring his scythe down on Shikamarus neck, you slammed your body to his side.

- Shikamaru flew away as Hidan managed to get a large and deep slash into your body; you felt it start from under the right side of your ribs, curving across your stomach, and finally finished above your left knee.

- You didn’t feel it until you fell to the ground- shock really is a bitch.

- And then you felt the dull sting grow and blood dripped from the wound.

- The stinging grew into a pulsing and unbearable ache, and you knew for a fact he cut through each muscle in the way of his scythe, but your organs were nipped ( at best ) in the process.

- You couldn’t hear what was going on.

- You heard your heart beat in your ears, it was deafening, but you focused on your breathing and trying to keep calm.

- You trained for this- having a close friend beat your ass near death so you could focus on remaining in a state where you could prolong the inevitable.

- Yeah you thought of the most wild scenarios, and managed to prepare for them- turns out it worked out well.

- Once Hidan is buried Shikamaru went straight to you, managing to help out with Ino and Choji, stopping some of the bleeding while getting you to the village.

- You’re passed out at that point, so Ino cauterizes the wounds ends, the part under your ribs and the entire thigh.

- Shikamaru starts freaking at this point, he almost passes out, and Choji has to get his ass back together.   

- Once you get back to the village Tsunade is ready to go, with Sakura by her side your ass isn’t ending up on that stone.

- It takes about four hours to get you all settled, and into a private room, out of critical.

- He’d stay by your bedside, your hand in his till you woke up.

- “Shika…?”

- “Oh my gods, [ Y/n ]!”

- “Hi”

- Your soft giggles helped ease this poor boys heart.

- “You look awful.”

- “Don’t look too hot yourself.”

- “Wow. Okay.”

- “Get up here, you need some sleep. And don’t even deny it.”

- He took off the bulky clothes, only in his pants and tank top, climbing in next to you as you settled your head on his chest.

- “Thank you for taking care of me,”

- “Thank you for not dying.”

Kiba Inuzuka

- Being in Anbu had its ups and downs.

- But mostly downs.

- Okay. Only downs.

- But you managed to find your light, in a childhood friend and now lover.

- Though- he managed to act more like a puppy than a boyfriend at times.

- You didn’t mind though, and you lived your life peacefully after having to leave Anbu due to an injury that limited your eyesight greatly and it hindered all sight starting at arms length.

- Though, when in Anbu, its always- ALWAYS expected to have an old rival or two come back for more, even when one is retired.

- And here you were, walking through the forest with Kiba and Akamaru, talking about his past mission with Hinata and Shino.

- He got so excited to tell you that he didn’t notice the shift in scents in the air, and you couldn’t see ahead or through your peripheral.

- It happened so fast.

- Too fast.

- One second you were smiling with his arms around your waist, his chin on your head as you both laughed with Akamaru yipping.

- The next you were slipping from his arms, and blood was pooled at his arms, the slash at your neck was gruesome.

- Your hands went to your neck as Kiba yelled, Akamaru going after the person who came from the shadows.

- “No. No. No. No. No. No. [ Y/n ], NO!” He was panicking, picking you up quickly as a hand wrapped around your throat, gripping it so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe.

- Almost.

- You learned to stay calm in situations like this, and with Kiba’s harsh grip you didn’t have to waste any energy to help with the bleeding, so you focused on breathing and not getting your heart to pump too fast.

- “Tsunade! Fuck- get a medical nin! Now!”

- He yelled, running into the village again, where many were coming to help you out.

- Akamaru had come back by then, his mouth bloodied as well, but nothing else- indicating he got a good bite on the fucker.

- You made it to the hospital before you lost consciousness, making Kiba worry even more, because THAT was never a good sign.

- He had to be the one to lay you down on the table and his grip never wavered, getting into a sterile room and waiting for some instruction.

- He was freaking out inside, he wanted to cry and let go, just hold you- but you would die if any of that were to happen.

- He had to stay calm for you.

- He wasn’t going to let you die.

- The tell him to let go quickly and all hands go to your neck, working quickly to stop the bleeding, while a nurse came to get Kiba cleaned up and situated.

- His mom even came to help the boy, who looked dead while staring at your room, not even wanting to go in.

- “Boy." 

- Oh did she go off, telling him to go to his girlfriend and be a man.

- He did want to go, but he couldn’t help but feel so… helpless.

- "Helpless? Helpless! Boy, you do understand you just saved your girls life? That if you weren’t there she’d be laying there dead?”

- Kinda rocked his shit, but thanks mom.

- He went into your room alone first, your neck was bandaged and you looked pale, with blood and other IV fluids being attached to your arms.

- He noticed the especially dark bruise on your neck.

- It could have been either from his hand or the surgery, but he still felt bad.

- His mom came in and sat with him on the other side of you.

- They both held your hands and visited you till you woke up.

- “I lived bitch.”

Shino Aburame

- I honestly can’t see his S/o getting hurt so bad.

- Because when you think about it his bug control is OP AF.

- Like he can essentially control you with a bug.

- I would go with someone would be after him, but since they can’t get to Shino- you would be the best option.

- Get hurt him physically so lets do it mentally and emotionally :)

- Poor boy

- I could see this being when your both adults, and teaching the younger generations, including your kids :)

- And you’re chilling on your house rooftop, that you’ve decorated with couches and tables and such, even hanging lights around.

- You had Shino build a retractable sliding glass on top in case it rains.

- If you’re having trouble imagining this- think Fast and Furious ending where everyone is eating dinner together.

- Yeah that’s ya’ll with the rest of the group :)

- You’re relaxing, reading a book and curled into the couch and drinking some tea or coffee or hot cocoa ( THEY’RE ALL VALID ) 

- You had gotten up a second to go to the large chest you had near one of the tables, to pick out a fluffy blanket.

- You never noticed how someone had mixed a poison into your drink, because they were gone before you could even decide on a blanket.

- Your kids would have been home soon, and they knew you liked to hang out up here, especially Shino since he kept the bees up here.

- You settled down and read some more, before taking sips of your drink.

- You noticed it tasted weird, and you had gotten up to check it out you felt your head get light, and your throat was stinging- making you cough horribly.

- You honestly felt like death was coming for you, and you knew something was wrong, but by the time you had gotten to the door you fell down and struggled to breathe.

- “Hey mom, Aponi kicked me-”

- “Shut up! Adonis don’t be- Mom!”

- “Mom?!”

- Your kids started freaking out, with your little girl noticing how strange you looked and saw the cup that was broken at your side.

- “Addy! Get dad! Mom drank something!”

- “Alright! Stay there- I’ll be back!”

- They managed to get their dad and Uncle Kiba, with Aponi looking to the cup- having some of her bugs recognize what was in it.

- “Dad! Its Saifu Ants! Someone poisoned mom with Saifu ants!”

- Shino had gotten some for himself and used their toxins to create an antidote.

- You were currently at the hospital, and declining rapidly, stressing out everyone around you.

- Even Naruto came and the dude is Hokage and is busy as hell.

- “You should all be prepared for the worst.”

- Everyone’s hearts dropped, and Shino couldn’t be there- he was helping making the antidote.

- It took about 20 more minutes until Shino came rushing in with it.

- Everyone made their way to your room and god.

- You were so pale, you honestly looked dead. Your kids only knew you were alive due to the heart monitor and your weak chalkra signature, your breathing was supported by a machine and even then your lungs sounded horrible.

- God Shino worked as hard as he could so fast.

- He felt like his heart stopped, that everything was moving too fast for him and he was going to pass out.

- Thank god his eyes were covered cause he had tears in them the entire time.

- He felt his soul ripping apart, what would he do if you left him so soon? The kids?

- You had gotten the antidote in time- but not before the poison had it’s time with you.

- Your lungs were destroyed and your heart was weak, your muscle was torn down.

- But you made it back to them.

- Everyone held a sigh of relief.

- You were a little off at first- still sleepy and slurring.

- After a few month you were able to leave- with everyone visiting you in the meantime with what had been going on in the village.

- Once you made it home you collapsed on your bed with Shino, easing his heart just a bit.

- Your kids jumped in too, snuggling up to both of you, with Aponi on your chest and Adonis on your stomach.

- “You scared us. Please, don’t do that again.”

- “It’s okay. I told you. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

- “Like I’d want to.”

[marvel--3000]

Mirage (5/???)

Summary: When 2 weird men show up at your job asking questions about you, you run, right into Hydras arms, you have no idea what they did to you in there, the Avengers help you figure it out.

*AU right after civil war, Steve, Bucky, and Tony are friends, and Pietro is still alive.*

A/N: this is my first thing I’ve ever written, soooo, some feedback would be appreciated, Hi I’ve been gone a couple years, and now I’m back, sorry….

I started writing this a long time ago, so the first chapters suck…. sorry

Pairing: Avengers x mutant!Reader

Warnings: some language, torture

Italics indicate that she is thinking to herself

~~~~~~~~~~

You dream of your life in the hydra base, everything is tinted red. You see flashes of faces, good and bad. You see yourself training with another mutant, you knock him to the ground and put him in a headlock. The scene changes, you see yourself strapped to a table, with the Trench Coat British guy smiling over you as you scream. It changes again, you see yourself crying in a ball, in the corner of your cell, trying to keep warm. It changes again, you see the goons kicking you on the floor, after your first escape attempt.

All of these memories scream through your head, until suddenly they come to a stop on one image. The man with the metal arm being shot in the back, because you can't reach him in time. You run to him as he falls. You catch him before he hits the ground, and lower him the rest of the way to the ground. You roll him over to look at his face, but when you roll him over, instead of his face being there, its Mr. British. You scream and try to push him off you, but he grabs you and pulls out a gun, he shoots you in the chest and laughs. You fall backwards, but instead of hitting the floor, you fall through it, into complete darkness. It feels like you fall forever.

You wake up screaming, clutching at the blankets. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out where you are. You see medical equipment, and hear a heart rate monitor beeping next to you. You remember, you're in the Avengers Compound, they saved you from Hydra. You relax into the bed and breath.

<i>What time is it?</i> You think, you look around again, now that you've calmed down. You see a huge window at the end of the room. Outside the window are trees, and a black sky, full of stars.<i> So it's still night, how long was I asleep for?</i> You sit up so you can see out the window better. You see a lake, and some lights below you. <i>So I’m not on the ground floor, it's pretty here, quiet.</i> You look away from the window and down at yourself, and notice that you aren't Natasha anymore, instead you’re a man, with hairy arms.

You gingerly try to spin your legs to the left, to dangle off the bed. It takes some effort, and a lot of pain, but you manage to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to slip off, so your feet touch the floor, then put a little pressure on them. Causing you to whimper in pain, but you push through it, as you've always done. You finally manage to stand on your own two legs, you look down to notice that your legs are hairy too, under the hospital gown. You also notice that there is a IV coming out of your hand, with a tube leading to a saline drip hooked on a metal rod on wheels.

You hold onto the rod for support, and take a step towards the window. But the heart rate monitor hooked to your finder stops you, you quickly pull it off, causing the monitor to have one long beeeeep, then power off. <i>That will probably bite me in the ass later, but I need to see out the window.</i> You slowly make your way to the window, each step a struggle. But you make it to the window, when you look out, you notice the trucks driving below you.

You look up and see the stars, they are beautiful tonight. Your eyes feel odd, so you close them, and rub them with the back of your hand, and when you open them again to look at the stars, suddenly you can see so many many more, you can see the sky as if we didn't have any pollution, or even an atmosphere. You can see the milky way, the whole galaxy. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Your eyes well up with tears, causing the stars to merge together, and yet, it's no less beautiful. You’re so busy looking up, you don't even notice that somebody else has entered the room.

“It's beautiful here isn't it?” Says a voice behind you. You squeak and whirl around, causing you to almost fall, and be in excruciating pain. The person rushes towards you trying to help, you look with anger in your eyes, ready to fight. But what you find is a concerned Dr. Banner, giving you the most confusing face. Your eyes soften, seeing that there is no immediate threat. You gain your balance, and stand on your own, shrugging off his hands, which you hadn't noticed before.

“It's not nice to scare people when they are zoned out.” You say in a fake scolding voice. But he just keeps looking at you with a weird face. “What's wrong Dr. Banner?”

“Hm? Oh, I'm just not used to walking into a room to find that I'm already in it.” He says with a little smile.

“What?” <i>Is he a little crazy?</i>

“Oh you don't know, you're not Nat anymore, now you're me. It's a little jarring. You can call me Bruce by the way.” He says looking you up and down.

“Oh! Sorry, when I dream I shift, and I must have shifted into you. Sorry.” you say then look at the floor in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry about, but how do you look exactly like me, you even have my birthmark on your knee.” he says with a puzzled look.

“Oh, when I see someone, I can copy their face, their size, and any other characteristic I can see. But in your case, when I touch someone, or they touch me, I can become a perfect duplicate of them, I think it has to do with DNA or something.”

“Oh. But I didn't touch you?” he said with a puzzled expression.

“When you put the needle in my arm you did. I can shift into someone else if you want?” you say shyly, talking about your powers is always weird.

“It's fine, as long as you're comfortable.” he quickly reassures you.

“Cool.” you think for a moment before asking, “What are you doing in here so late?”

“Oh that, um, I told Friday to alert me if you woke up, so you wouldn't be scared. On that note, you really should lay back down.” he says in a quiet tone.

“You did that for me?”  Confused as to why he would want to do this for a stranger. You start making your way back to your bed, leaning on the pole.

“Well yeah, you are my patient.” he says walking next to you. Suddenly your left leg decides it's time for a nap, and you start falling with a yelp. Bruce catches you with surprising strength. <i>How did he catch me so quick?</i> He helps you back to your bed, and you lay back down.

“Thank you, I don't know what happened, my leg just quit working.”

“No harm done. Are you alright, any pain?” he asks sitting at the end of your bed.

“I mean the bullet wound in my chest hurts, but the weird part is, it should hurt more. How long has it been since I got shot?” you ask, looking him in the eyes. <i>His eyes are a very nice deep brown, with some bright green near the iris. Odd.</i>

“It's been 3 days, but your wounds are healing at an accelerated rate, it looks like you got shot 3 weeks ago. Is that part of your powers?” he asks leaning towards you

“No last time I checked!” you say starting to worry about what Hydra did to you there.

“Ok, we’ll figure out why, but right now, you should sleep. Steve and Tony are going to ask you questions in the morning,” he looks down at his watch, then back up to you, “if you sleep now, you should get about another 6 hours before they come back.” he says in a reassuring tone. <i>I can see why he's a doctor, he's so kind.</i>

“I don't know if I can go back to sleep, I didn't have the best dreams before.” you say looking down at your hands, they are large, and strong.

“I can give you something to help you sleep better if you like, but only if you're comfortable, I don't want you to have another panic attack.” he says looking at you with concern.

“Will it give me better dreams?” you ask in a small voice, meeting his gaze again.

“Yes, promise, as long as you promise me that you won't have another panic attack?” he asks while standing and walking to a nearby cabinet, and opening it up.

“I think I can manage that.” you say smiling at him. He turns back to you with a small needle, and a band aid in his hand. He walks towards you and says, “You should lean back, this stuff works quick.” he cleans the area he's about to put the needle in as you lean back. “I will be here in the morning when they ask their questions.”

“Thank you, and thank you for being so nice to me, even though you don't know me.” you say smiling. When he finishes he puts a teenage mutant ninja turtle band aid on your arm. “Really? Teenage mutant ninja turtles?” you ask with a small laugh.

“What? I thought it was appropriate.” he says with a large smile. “Now try and get some sleep, I will see you in the morning.” he says while walking to the door “Goodnight Bruce, thank you…” you say, your words starting to blend together. <i>He was right about this acting quick…</i>

“Goodnight.” Bruce says while turning out the lights, he turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him. He walks back to the elevator, taking it to the recreation floor, where the crew quarters are. He walks to his room, and sits on his bed.

“Friday, please alert me when our patient wakes up.” he says then crawls in bed to sleep as well.

“Yes sir.” Friday whispers from the ceiling.

Back in your room

You smile to yourself,<i> Maybe this place isn't so bad, Bruce is nice, I hope they don't think I'm hydra, I hope I'm not hydra……</i> *Snore*

Time Skip,

You wake up slowly, groggy from the drug Bruce gave you last night. Your eyes are too tired to open n, but your mind starts to work. You feel something, something is wrong. Your eyes pop open and land on a very angry, very tall, very scary, redhead standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed, glaring at you.. <i>Oh shit. Natasha Romanoff!</i>