newsdaynight

[naomiknight-17]

At the Ultrasound/x-ray clinic like

Don't think about the Therac-25 Don't think about the Therac-25 Don't think about the Therac-25

[scaryspears]

Shang Tsung x Bimbo Reader: Part 2

Part 2 on the request of @kissingyourgrl

To clear any confusion for those who have read my previous bimbo posts, mk11's bimbo reader is a sweetheart, mk1 bimbo reader is a girlboss. This is because mk11's bimbo is a descendant of chaos realm while mk1's is from Seido.

"I don't know, if I met another me there would probably be a competition between us. Or we can just paint each other's nails."

You two are a toxic couple that doesn't know it's toxic. You would promote each other's worst traits. Shang fed your vanity, you fed his ego. It's a strange duo but a win win. You gave the impression that you were convinced that you're a glamour girl and he's a nerd but there was much more to it than that. You were aware, but you could let a guy believe what he wants to.

Shang felt like he was being tricked when he was with you. You are a shallow person, only giving attention to things that were trivial in the long run. You came off as an idiot but were smarter than you let on.

You both argue often, but over things that aren't really important, and most of it comes from power play. You, a beauty queen, and him... he tried to take over only for his Titan self to double cross him so he was a great sorcerer at best.

If you weren't dating then the two of you would probably be frienemies, and it shows. The dynamic was decent, he took you out on dates and you watched him do his experiments and did whatever you could to support his needs.

Watching him unlock his potential and his eagerness to become powerful was adorable, even more when he learned a new spell and the amount of happiness that radiated off of him. A sinister kind of course, but adorable nonetheless.

He's met versions of you from other timelines, and they all seemed whiny. All had an echo of chaos he had trouble comprehending. Honestly, he's not sure which version of you he preferred, but he loved your ruthless self.

Let's be real here, if you were to attempt making yourself a lot more powerful and conquering the realms then you would succeed. It just isn't your thing.

Shang the type of guy to see you laid out on the experiment table with flirty eyes, but he would respond by tapping your thigh and saying he has work to do. You end up having your way anyways.

You were both the type of people to start making love on top of a moving carriage while there's a riot happening right (in front of/around) you.

That was your relationship: uncaring and disassociation.

On the healthy side, you loved doing his hair, and you both indulged in beauty treatment. Shang wouldn't let anyone else paint his nails, and it wasn't everyday that you listened to someone else's fashion advice.

Shang could picture you being his queen. You brought nothing to the table oher than yourself, and he did nothing but experiments and maybe planning on overthrowing Liu Kang. If he weren't such a diva he'd be a scientist, you were certain.

[annie-creates]

Just a few grapes

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: Reader has trouble eating, so even tho there's nothing explicit be aware of possible triggers. Thank you so much for the kind message and request, notes like these are what gives everything I do meaning. I hope I did your idea justice.

You were what people would describe as sunshine. Everyone knew your peculiar ability to make your vicinity feel better. Your mere presence conjured smiles on people’s faces and your aura radiated peace and calm. Many would seek you out to help them forget about sad thoughts or just to make them feel a little happier. You were quite popular around the school for good. There was no doubt the universe prepared great things for you. Dean Dovey would often say you’re the definition of the greatest good, the white swan of innocence and purity.

Maybe the noble treatment was the reason why the real life took by such surprise. Graduating and claiming your own story was supposed to be something magical, yet you found yourself on a path of hardships and struggles. You weren’t treated like a godly princess anymore, people in the real world found you average, if not a bit annoying. Your fate dimmed your light of innocence and purity, making you experience all the doom of those who aren’t prepared.

When you returned to the school for good and evil, you weren’t the enchanted girl who left, full of silly hope and innocent imaginations. You were a woman carrying her own ills and scars. Yet your presence still calmed others and your smile made everyone’s day just the tiniest bit better. You were tested by the life, coming back wise and cannie. Who was once a naïve little girl came back as experienced sharp-witted woman.

Now years later you found yourself at the side of your girlfriend, mingling the dinning hall as others chatted the night away. It was a significant evening, celebrating the equinox as per an old tradition. Tables were full of the most remarkable food and drinks, successfully satisfying everyone’s taste. You’d find anything you could imagine, yet you didn’t feel like using the opportunity right now. You just couldn’t find the need within yourself. Everything looked boring and tasteless to you.

Leonora gave you a side eye seeing you just nibbling in your dinner, not really eating. She was used to all your routines and bad habits by now, having trouble eating properly being one of them. You couldn’t help it, it was just one of the things your brought back from your uneasy life in the outside world. She’d lie if she said she couldn’t understand it though, having worked through traumas and vices herself when she was younger.

You excused yourself from the table, having been counting seconds for the past couple minutes until it was formally okay to do so. You weren’t going to spend more hours sitting around pretending to enjoy the food and conversation for longer than absolutely necessary. Snuggling into bed you had no intention waiting awake for your girlfriend, but your rumbling stomach didn’t wanna let you fall into a peaceful slumber, so you just tossed and turned around in the sheets.

You were finally distracted by Lesso coming through the door, carefully assessing the situation in the room to not wake you up in case you’d be already sleeping. To your dismay you weren’t. She smiled at you as you sat up in the bed, knowing there’s no reason trying to fall asleep anymore. You didn’t like to sleep without her anyway, her arm was your favorite pillow and the beat of her heart your favorite lullaby.

“Hi, did I wake you up?” Lesso asked as she came into the room, gently sitting on her side of the bed.

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep,” you shook your head hair flying into you face.

“Good. I’ve brought you a little snack, in case you were hungry,” Leonora placed a plate on the bed, knowing you might eat something little.

“You didn’t have to…” you tried to dismiss it before even looking at the plate full of apples, bananas and grapes cut into little pieces and ridden of seeds so you can easily eat it. The thought and care behind it almost brought tears into your eyes. “Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t even mention it. You can take whatever you want if you want,” your girlfriend knew there’s no reason trying to force you to eat, it only made you shut down more. Giving the option while making it the most accessible was the way.

“How was your day?” you asked her to distract yourself, and just because you loved listening to her voice.

“Well, I had a few successful attempts in death traps today, Satan knows those kids might actually be of some good use. And Avery, remember the reader kid? She actually got her first magic trick, I bet she’ll be a real deal with her finger glow…” she went on about her day and anything she could think of that would be of any interest to you.

“Wasn’t she one of the Nevers you said had no business in your school?” you asked with a smile, stuffing your mouth with more grapes.

“Yea, but she was actually good this week. I mean bad… evil… you know what I mean,” you both laughed over it. “I think that with a little guidance, the right friends and a few nights in the doom room she could actually achieve something.”

“Well if anyone can make her a good evil it’s you,” you admitted cleaning the plate of a few last pieces. “Thanks for the fruit, it was actually good.”

“No problem love,” Leonora put the plate away, proud of your progress in eating. You still needed to be focused on something else, but you ate more easily.

Crawling into bed with you, she fluffed up the pillows and sheets to have a good warm cozy nest to sleep in. Laying down together you placed your ear over her heart being calmed by her even breath as she tucked you closer to her chest with her strong arms. To you the only nest you needed was her.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered before falling asleep.

“Always.”

[sicktember]

Could you share some less common illnesses to use? The prompts keep making me think of cold/flu, which is great, but I don't want to write it all about that. I try to use different things, but I'm stuck in a rut, and I like variety in the sickfics I read and write. My main go-to is chicken pox, and I want to use mumps and meningitis at some point.

We can definitely see how many of the prompts could be interpreted as cold or flu related. And we certainly understand your desire to try something new!

But we also feel like the 'more cake' analogy is worth repeating. There are so many symptoms, scenarios, treatments, home remedies and 'old wives tales' that there is an endless supply of new ways to reinvent any trope! And one great fic definitely deserves another... and another... and another...

That being said, we've put together a list of illnesses/additional symptoms. How you can potentially work them into the various prompts is up to you! But goodness knows, any of them could lead to a few sleepless nights (Prompt 27) Anyway, we hope this helps!!

Acute Pancreatitis is the prolonged  inflammation of the pancreas. Acute Pancreatitis usually appears suddenly and lasts for several days. Although some people may develop chronic pancreatitis, which can last for years. Causes include but are not limited to, infection, alcoholism, certain medications, gallstones, trauma and obesity. Treatment may involve a change in diet, IV fluids, pain medication or in some cases surgery to remove bile duct blockages, the gallbladder or infected pancreatic tissue.

Symptoms include: Upper abdominal pain, abdominal pain that radiates to the back, abdominal tenderness, fever, rapid pulse, nausea and vomiting.

Norovirus is one of the most common causes of vomiting and diarrhea.  In some places it's also referred to as the 'winter vomiting bug' because it's more common in winter, although you can catch it at any time of the year. It usually takes a few days to recover.

Oral Thrush or Oral Candidosis is a fungal (Yeast) infection of the mouth. It isn't contagious and can be treated fairly successfully with antifungal medications. It can be caused by the use of certain antibiotics, poor oral hygiene, smoking or the use of steroid inhalers used for asthma.

Symptoms include: White or red patches inside the mouth, lose of taste, general redness in the mouth and throat, pain and burning within the mouth that can sometimes make eating and drinking difficult.If let untreated, Oral Thrush can become much more serious.

Cellulitis is an infection within  the deeper layers of the skin. It can often be treated with antibiotics. Although more problematic cases can lead to hospitalization. If it’s not retreated properly it can become extremely serious. Cellulitis is usually caused by a bacterial infection that enters the skin via a cut or scrape. 

Symptoms include: The affected skin suddenly becomes red, hot swollen and sore. More severe cases can be accompanied or preceded by a high fever, full body tremors, nausea and vomiting, dizziness and confusion. 

Urinary tract infections or UTIs  are common and affect the bladder, the kidneys and/or  the tubes that connect  them. They can have varying levels of pain and discomfort depending on the severity. They generally heal within a few days and are often treated with antibiotics. UTIs are usually caused by bacteria entering the urinary tract., generally from the urethra. A few of the causes could be dehydration, the use of scented hygiene products and/or not regularly and fully emptying the bladder. 

Symptoms include: Pain or discomfort during urination, having sudden or frequent urges to urinate,  lower abdominal pain or discomfort and a general feeling of achiness. More severe symptoms can occur when the kidneys are involved. Thos symptoms include back pain, fever, chills, confusion and restlessness. It is worth noting that while UTIs can affect anyone they are most common in women.

Vertigo isn’t an illness so much as it’s  a symptom, often associated with migraines and inner ear infections. Vertigo can be described as the sensation that you, or your environment are moving or spinning. The feeling can be barely noticeable or extremely intense and can last anywhere from a few seconds to several days.

Shingles is an infection of a nerve and the surrounding skin. Shingles is caused by the same virus that causes Chicken pox. The main symptom of shingles is prolonged and virtually untreatable pain along with a rash that develops into itchy blisters. New blisters may appear for up to a week, but will become yellowish in color, flatten and dry out within a few days. Blisters can lead to scarring. 

Other symptoms include: headache, burning, tingling, numbness or itchiness of the skin in the affected area, feeling generally unwell and/or fever. 

Lyme Disease is a bacterial infection that is  spread to humans by infected ticks. Lyme Disease can range from mild to severe depending on how quickly the symptoms are recognized and treatment begins. Although symptoms may not appear for up to thirty days post bite.Antibiotics are the most common treatment. 

Symptoms include, most prominently a ‘bulls-eye’ shaped rash around the bite area that may increase in size over time. Some people will develop a rash over their entire body. One in three people affected by Lyme Disease will also have flu-like symptoms such as, fever, aches and pains, a stiff neck and fatigue. If left untreated, symptoms can progress to include swelling and pain in the joins, numbness in the limbs, lasp in memory, and heart issues.

Acute Cholecystitis is when there is swelling and inflammation in the gallbladder. This is potentially serious and usually needs to be treated in hospital. Treatment includes fasting, intravenous fluids and pain management. The doctor may recommend the removal of the gallbladder to prevent future attacks. 

Symptoms include: Most prominently, a sharp pain in the lower right side of the abdomen that spreads towards the shoulder. The affected part of the abdomen is usually sore to the touch, and does not fade over time. Deep breathing may  increase the pain. Other symptoms may include fever, sweating, loss of appetite, nausea and vomiting and  yellowing of the skin and/or whites of the eyes (jaundice)

Catarrh is also a symptom rather than an illness. Catarrh is  the build-up of mucus in an airway or other cavity within the body. Generally the back of the nose, throat or sinus. It’s usually temporary and is associated with colds, allergies and sinus polyps.  It usually only last a few days but in some situations can become chronic and hard to treat. Treatments include avoiding allergens, taking sips of cold water, the use of a  humidifier, saline nasal rinses, and over the counter decongestants.   

Associated symptoms include: coughing, runny nose, stuffy nose, the feeling of mucus in the back of the throat, the need to constantly clear your throat, headache or facial pain, a cracking sensation in the ears accompanied by some temporary hearing loss (This could also lead into an ear infection, particularly in small children)

Mumps is a contagious viral infection that used to be common in children (but could also affect adults)  before the introduction of the MMR vaccine.

symptoms include: Most prominently, painful swelling around the side of the face (The parotid glands) along with headaches, joint pain and a high temperature, which may develop a few days before the swelling occurs.

We found this website to be very helpful when compiling the list above. It not only lists common illnesses but additional symptoms as well.

[dervaaas]

Doma

Warning: description of blood, harm, moments happening in the past! Approximately during the treatment of Duki and Gyutaro. Angst

f!reader

words: 1,4+

note: in some moments I doubt their logic, but you know I spent almost a month on it, but I like it, I'm generally a fan of this and I think there will be a lot of this here.

As long as I can remember, I have always been in this cult. My parents were fanatics, worshipped him, believed his words. They gladly gave him everything. Not to say that I was just like "wow" delighted with him, but perhaps his appearance played a big role in this. I couldn't help but notice his beauty, even after so many meetings I still looked at him.

It was a kind of curse to constantly see how he smiles when we meet, how his eyes glow with happiness. I can't even say which stone would describe the color of his eyes: I haven't seen such stones - perhaps we don't have them at all. Sometimes I stared at them so intently that he had to call me several times, smiling the same way, but more brightly. It's hard to say if there was such a moment that he didn't smile. I have never, in general, seen such a thing. He always smiled so much that it was hard not to smile back at him, and the way he spoke was honey for the ears. Although his speech was intelligible to many, however, I did not listen to what he was explaining. He didn't seem to care whether I listened to him or not either.

I often had to be in his company – in particular, it was he who called me to talk. Not to say that I was not happy, rather, I was tired of communicating with him often, nevertheless, his company was pleasant to me. He looked like an obsessive friend who spat on personal boundaries, which, in general, it was.

He often said that his task is to educate people, because they are extremely blind, stupid. I didn't really understand what he was talking about at the time; maybe that was my mistake. I was no different from the people he described. It's strange that he told me such things about his people, somehow it wasn't particularly pleasant to hear such things: after all, in a sense, they were the same people as me. At such moments I did not answer him: I didn't have an answer to that that he would have liked.

— Y/N, you don't say enough, it's wrong! Talk to me, I want to hear your voice! — with a slight sadness in his voice, he tells me. A request that made me uneasy. I shouldn't care about it, but still I have to do it without any bickering.

I liked his gentle attitude towards me and very much. It gave such a sense of peculiarity, no one in this cult received as much as I received from him. I was his favorite. It's like a dog spinning around and asking for the owner's attention. Honestly, I don't even remember when I started asking for his attention, to be around, just because it was an ordinary thing. It was enough to hear him talking enthusiastically when I come to him in the morning. It was enough for me.

My parents often said that I probably had something that should have made him keep me around. They were glad that their daughter had such a disposition to herself, especially from their god. What happiness it would be if he somehow connected life with their daughter. They needed this blessing. This was not the first time they had talked about this topic, while at the same time worrying that such thoughts were simply unacceptable in relation to their god.

Their god. Their faith. Their blessing. Whatever he says, everything will happen. It is according to this scheme that everything happens.

Probably, everything would be fine if I continued to admire him in silence, spend the day as usual, would not climb where they do not ask. He wouldn't have paid attention to it, would he? Now before my eyes is a picture of how he eats people, and this causes a gag reflex.

What is he anyway? The worst thing happened when he noticed me. His eyes seemed to radiate a different light than I was used to seeing-he was much more enthusiastic.

Grinning, he got up and walked towards me. I couldn't take a step out of shock, I couldn't take my eyes off that person, no matter how sick I was. I didn't fully understand the situation. I came to my senses only when he touched my cheeks with his hands – I could clearly feel the blood on his hands. Still, I had to look up at him, no matter how shocked I was.

"The sixth highest moon".

That's what was inside his eyes.

— Ah, Y/N, did you really come for your blessing?

"The best blessing is to be eaten by God." It was according to this phrase that the missing people were justified. And only now I realized it. God is here. Everyone wants His blessings through eating so much. The blessing of the one who stays young forever. In all the years of my growing up, nothing has changed in him at all.

— Mr. Doma, what does this mean? — even surprisingly for myself, I said it without any tremor in my voice. But I think my gaze and the tension in my body spoke about my condition.

— Nothing but a blessing. He has already received it, as well as everyone who comes to me. I put him out of his misery, as God should," he said, smiling at me as brightly as usual, but now it felt completely different.

Understanding his words, I tried to pull away from him, but it didn't work out – he only tightened his hands on my cheeks, to such an extent that I felt his nails digging into my skin.

— Y/N, I would play tag with you, but I'm in too bad a mood today, - sighing wearily, he removed his hand from my cheek and transferred it to my neck, squeezing it.— Everyone is so interested in looking into this room today, when I made it clear that it was better not to do it. I thought you'd be much more obedient," with his other hand he took out a metal fan and held it up to my eyes. "People like you are destined for a completely different death.

When he waved his hand, I felt a stinging pain pass over my face, the arrival of which was accompanied by a copious outpouring of blood. Right in the eyes. I could feel warm blood flowing down my face in detail. The metallic taste was unpleasant, even if I tried to wipe it off, it wouldn't help.

I'm afraid to cry out, because I don't know what all this will lead to. How will my screams affect this; knowing him, I would say that he was trying to help, he always did, but now... I have no idea who is in front of me, whether It was something unusual or a creature from the stories of the old people of the cult.

Demon. My idea of them is completely different. He is not a mutilated creature. It doesn't match my suggestion at all. He looks exactly like a human. However, he had just eaten a human. He can't be related to demons. At least, I hope so.

That thought-the denial of what I saw-made me think about that, not how to escape. And I don't think I could have run far. My legs seemed to be numb, I was afraid to take at least one step – suddenly I would fall.

My ears are ringing unpleasantly, but I can hear him humming an uncomplicated melody next to me. It's a familiar tune, maybe I've heard it somewhere. It's useless to think about it now. And in principle, the pain in my eyes distracts me from this - an acutely tingling pain.

— Y/N, Y/N, you will not die such a death, that person deserved it. You will become a part of me and you will live forever! — it looked like he sang it rather than said it.

Hugged. He squeezed me to such an extent that I was unable to raise my hands. Breathing, of course, was impossible with such contact.

The boundary that I felt between us was gone. I couldn't take it well. It just dissolved, and I felt something like a constriction in my whole body.

— How glad I am that you want to be a part of me, — I don't know if he was smiling at that moment, but I felt this smile, or maybe I just understood by the intonation.

This circumstance just made it clear to me that this is the end. I have left nothing in this world. Will disappointment and regret haunt me in the next world? If so, I'll fix it.

If I had behaved as usual, would I have stayed out of unnecessary places, would I have stayed alive? Mr. Doma, you really are a demon, even though you were a God to them.

[purecantarella]

Nightmare Turned Dream

sort of rushed but i still hope you all enjoy 💖 park jihyo x trainee!reader disclaimer/s : nothing, this is mostly fluff if you squint there's some angst there. maybe some curse words.

Even as a young adult, you'd get the worst nightmares imaginable. It'd come with the constant stress you were placed under. You trained ten hours a day, six days a week and it always took a physical, mental and emotional toll on you. You worked so hard to achieve your childhood dream. The insatiable craving of debuting under JYPE had lit a fire in you that had only grown stronger over the years. Especially when you met Park Jihyo.

When you brushed past each other after one of your many training days, she became instantly enamoured with you. The leader of one of the biggest girl groups in kpop couldn't pin what was it about you that she found so alluring. Until she couldn't restrain herself from formally introducing herself to you.

Jihyo found your surprised expression amusing while you found her even speaking to you to be the greatest blessing in your life. After exclaiming how cute you were, she asked if you would be so kind to have lunch with her, get to know each other better.

A few casual lunches together turned into romantic dinners in the blink of an eye for the both of you.

The young idol found out about the terrifying dreams the first time you'd slept over. Neither of you planned for you to stay over, it'd just so happened that after a day of vocal and dance rehearsals you were both worn out.

While she was tucked securely in your arms, she awoke to you whimpering and squirming as tears slipped down your cheeks. Worried, Jihyo shook you awake making your eyes shoot open in surprise. Your breath was erratic and she did was she could to calm you down.

That's when after months of an unlabeled relationship, she finally placed her lips on yours, causing you to relax instantly. You couldn't be more grateful to have Jihyo. The motherly treatment when you didn't know how to handle yourself made you feel safe, like nothing could touch you. When you were with her, it you could rest easy.

That is until you did debut.

You thought that when you debuted it would be easier to be with her; that your schedule would ease up and you would be able to see her more often. But that wasn't the case. She had her own promotions and you had yours, you two couldn't find a compromise which led to your break-up.

It neither of your best moments. Screaming hurtful and accusatory words because of the stress and all the pent up frustration at one another when you both felt nothing but pure love and admiration for the other. It wasn't good for either of you to be together anymore, so she left. Leaving both of you heartbroken.

A few months pass after your break-up with Jihyo when your promotions for your group end. Your members go out to celebrate the successful debut but you stayed at home alone. You were still reeling from her leaving you and you wound up crying yourself to sleep. Then the nightmares you combated for the past few months returned.

You woke up in a cold sweat, sobs ripping from your chest, and audible gasps shooting from your lips. You clutched yourself in a state of panic. Your hand searched around the dark room, finally landing on the cool surface of your phone.

On instinct you'd dialed her number instead of your leader's.

"Y/n?" Her groggy voice called from the other end, while still sounding rather excited. Upon hearing her voice, you internally face-palmed for calling your ex, only adding to your stress.

When Jihyo heard your laboured breathes from your end, she knew exactly what was going on. "Y/n breathe, your fine. Okay?" She said calmly, putting a jacket over herself and running out the dorm door, receiving questioning looks from her members in the common area.

"H-Hyo, I'm sorry. I-I-I shouldn't have ca-called..." You stammered out between pants. As you were about to drop the call though, she finally said, "No. I'm glad you called me. Listen to me, N/n..." A fond smile fell onto your lips at the way the familiar nickname rolled from her lips.

"So what happened today, N/n?" Jihyo asked, trying to distract you, as she dashed down the streets of the city while trying to conceal her identity.

Before long, she had stormed your group's dorm, finding you curled up in your blanket seeking the warmth that she used to provide. She released a sigh of relief before falling onto the bed, her arms wrapped around you without hesitation. Her body radiating the warmth and love you'd desperately sought after.

You nuzzled your face into her neck, taking in the sweetest scent you'd ever come to find. One of her hands found it's way behind your head, adding a sense of comfort on your part.

"I'm here, N/n...I've got you." She whispered in your ear, making you bite your bottom lip softy. You were beginning to calm down but you could still feel your heart racing a hundred miles an hour. Jihyo's grip on you never faltered, even tightening at times.

After a bit of silence, you pulled away and cleared your throat. "Thanks for coming." You said awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself or her for that matter. You leaned on your elbow, giving her room to leave if she really wanted to. But all she did was stare blankly at you.

"Of course I came...I..." Jihyo paused for a moment, looking away shyly. "I never even wanted to leave in the first place." She added, hesitantly pulling you into her chest again as your face grew a deep shade of red. You'd felt her nose press into the top of your head, inhaling deeply as she placed a fleeting kiss on the top of your head.

It was a familiar feeling. One that you missed very much over the course of the break-up. "I've missed you so much, N/n. I'm sorry for hurting you." She said while stroking your hair. You nodded slowly, feeling yourself falling asleep again.

"I've missed you too Hyo. Nothings been the same since that night. My dancing has been off, my vocals could be better—" She immediately cut you off. "Don't say that. Your debut stage was absolute perfection."

The smile on your face grew wider at the older woman's words. After that, the silence hung over you both again. Your eyes began to fall again, sleep taking over you.

"Let's talk in the morning, yeah?" You asked, a yawn passing your lips. Jihyo nodded as she watched your eyes finally close peacefully. She felt a sense of contentment as she had you in her arms again and she'll be damned if she let you go again.

Placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, she whispered, "Good night, my N/n..." Before falling into her own slumber. After all, you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep well without the other.

ooft HAHAHAH i hope you all enjoyed this! i'm hoping to post a rosé fic this friday if time allows me to anyway. remember that requests are open and criticism or comments are completely welcomed! feel free to message me about anything, anytime! i'll see you all very soon and keep safe always! 😚💕 taglist : @labrachrosite

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 11

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Fury comes for another weekly check-in and Reader gets in trouble. He also brings along a doctor, will he have good or bad news for Rocket?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: A -l o n g b o i- of a chapter. Also, for my records, this is day 14 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 7,756

You wake up early, partially due to the pain in your arm, but mostly because you knew Fury would likely be coming today and you wanted to try and get to town and back before he arrived.

After a light breakfast you start to go out back door to retrieve the box the raccoon corpse was in, but Peter, who had also just finished eating and who suspected exactly what you're doing, jumped up and said he'll help you get the box.

You roll your eyes, and you're about to tell him you are fine to do it yourself when you hear knock at door. You assume it's Fury, but you want to be careful. You look out window, prepared to tell Peter to keep the others out of sight, when you notice two SHIELD vehicles behind your own, and that they hadn't been cloaked like Fury's was last time.

"It's Fury," you tell Peter, and he goes to fetch a few of the others who weren't already in the kitchen, mostly Rocket, because he expected they would want to see him after you said you'd be contacting SHIELD about the raccoon fight and whether Rocket had his shots.

Feeling slightly relieved that it was just Fury and that he hadn't decided to test you this time, you answer the door to see not only Fury and Agent Hill, but another man.

Fury gives a quick greeting and introduces the man as a doctor they brought along to test the dead raccoon. Apparently they came prepared after your message to Maria the previous night. You offer to go unlock shed but Fury says he needs you to stay there, and to give the doctor the keys. You are surprised, but obey, assuming he just wants briefed on what happened last night.

You hand the doctor the keys and he disappears back out the front door while you lead Fury and Maria into the kitchen where the others are just as Peter comes back down the stairs with Drax and Rocket.

As suspected, Fury asks first about what happened with the raccoon incident.

Rocket rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Nothing."

Drax speaks up. He tells Fury that he and you heard the commotion outside, saw Rocket getting attacked, and then you shot the offending animal.

Fury nods. "I see. I trust you've already looked him over, but our doctor will be doing so again before he administers the booster. According to our records Rocket was given a rabies vaccination, but you can never be too careful."

"Good." you reply, nodding your head in relief.

Rocket just hopped up on the counter to sit with his arms crossed indignantly, not looking forward to being examined for something he had already been checked for, but surprisingly he chose not to be a child about it.

"How long before we know if the raccoon was infected or not?" asked Kraglin.

Agent Hill answered. "The test takes about two hours. We brought a lab van so the test could be preformed on site that way we'd know as soon as possible."

Leave it to SHIELD to come prepared for literally everything.

"We also brought another couple weeks worth of rations. NOVA expects you all to be here for awhile more." This earned unhappy muttered grumblings from Rocket, but the others kept their mouth shut. They were never under the impression the negotiations would be done quickly. Maria continued, "So if a few of you want to help carry the boxes in..." she gestured towards the kitchen door. She said it politely, but it wasn't exactly a request. She wasn't a maid.

You nodded and started to head toward the door when Fury said. "Agent, stop."

You stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sir?"

Peter, Drax, and Kraglin, who had stood and were also about to follow Agent Hill (and tell you specifically not to go, for obvious reasons), also stopped, surprised by Fury's tone. He almost sounded a bit like he was scolding you despite his tone being even.

"Please remove your sweater."

The sweater he was referring to was actually an old knit cardigan. You had taken to wearing it the past few days due both to a string of overcast and therefore chillier days, and well, for said obvious reasons. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask.

"Your jacket. Take it off."

You swallow. You had a sneaking suspicion why he would ask you that. He had an annoying habit of somehow knowing everything. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not-"

"Remove your jacket, agent. Or do you need Agent Hill to assist you?" It was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

You try to hide a grimace as you did what you were told, doing your best not to wince as you pulled your sweater off your good arm first and then the injured arm. Silently you wondered who had squealed on you. A small gasp from Mantis was heard when she saw what your sweater had been hiding, and you could feel the eyes of the others also on you as Fury gave you an unamused look and Agent Hill's eyes widened sightly. Even Rocket looked a bit surprised. He wasn't expecting it to look that bad.

Purple and green bruising stained your arm, radiating out from your elbow and stretching from your bicep to maybe 5 inches shy of your wrist.

"The doctor is also here to check over your injury as well." Fury said. Looking to Gamora he thanked her for informing them of your injury before turning back to scold you for not having mentioned it to them or having seen a doctor for it. He also threw in that you should be wearing a sling and resting your arm instead of 'acting like a dumbass who thinks they don't need to take care of themselves.'

"Sir, it's fine. I-"

"I'm trusting you to protect these people. How are you going to do that if you cripple yourself by neglecting injuries?" he scolded.

You shot an unhappy look to Gamora, but you could tell she wasn't sorry. You also caught almost smug looks from Yondu and Peter before turning back to Fury.

"How did it happen?" asked Maria. Gamora had told her that it had happened, that you refused help, and that you put it back in place yourself, but she hadn't told her how it happened. Seeing the aftermath of the injury now herself had made her curious.

"Slipped," you say before anyone can speak up for you. "Clumsy me," you add sarcastically.

Peter raised an eyebrow and shared glances with Kraglin and Yondu, surprised that you seemed to be covering for him. However, he didn't correct you, assuming you gave that answer for a reason, and after all, it wasn't totally a lie, more just... not the whole truth.

That explanation was apparently good enough for Fury and Maria because she nodded at the guys for them to follow as Fury laid into you again.

***

Maria opened the back hatch of the SUV, revealing crates of rations to be taken inside.

Lifting up one of the crates, Peter tried to make conversation, mentioning how Fury seemed surprisingly mad at you for not seeking out a doctor for your injury.

Sure, he could understand your boss telling you that you were dumb for neglecting an injury and scolding you for being stupid, but Fury's anger seemed different than he would have expected. Almost like he genuinely cared that you had gotten hurt. He couldn't remember any of his mother's bosses caring that much. If anything, if she had gotten hurt or sick, they would have preferred that she pretended she hadn't and just worked through it. Then again, he always did think most of her bosses were mean. Maybe she just had bad luck?

"Yeah, well, this wouldn't be the first time she's hidden an injury." Maria admitted. "I imagine he's getting a bit tired of it."

Kraglin took a crate from Maria. "She do that often?" he asked, surprised that anyone would just routinely hide when they've been hurt for seemingly no reason.

"It's not a super frequent occurrence, but she does have a bad habit of not saying when she's hurt. Once she got stabbed on the job in Hong Kong... we only found out when another agent walked in on her trying to stitch herself up in the hotel afterwards." She stacked a crate on top of the one Drax was already holding and shut the hatch before bending down to pick up the last crate she had set on the ground for herself. "Then there was a time when we were on a job together in Romania. We had been captured and held hostage for two days. I noticed she started looking worse and worse as time went on. I thought she was just getting sick, but then she passed out during the last interrogation attempt before SHEILD busted in the door with backup." She started walking back towards the house with the men. "I found out after they got her to medical that the day after we got sent out she came down with appendicitis and instead of telling someone that something was wrong and getting medical treatment, she apparently decided it was better to just cut out her own appendix- still don't know how she managed that without anyone noticing." Maria sounded like she clearly disapproved of your prior actions. "Anyway, with no way to keep it clean while we were being held prisoner, she had developed an infection. She was put on suspension for that one. I've got more, but I think you get the drift."

The three men's eyes were wide as they followed Agent Hill back to the house.

"That's insane." Peter said. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Beats me. She didn't always used to be that way, but now we use her as an example for what you shouldn't do with the new recruits."

"What do you think changed? Could she have suffered a brain injury that made her dumb?" Drax asked.

Peter shifted his crate so he could open the door and scolded Drax for being rude. As they walked into the hall Maria said, "No head injury that I'm aware of, she just kinda changed after-"

She never got to finish that sentence, for they entered the kitchen to hear you angrily say to Fury, "You can't be serious."

The four made their way towards the pantry with their crates, cautiously eyeing the situation so as to not appear nosy. Well, except for Drax, who was just flat out staring.

You were staring angrily at a stern-faced Fury while Gamora looked at the two of you, uneasiness in her eyes. Yondu and Rocket had looks of almost smug satisfaction playing on their faces, while Mantis and Groot appeared confused and intrigued.

"Serious as a heart attack." Fury answered. "After the doctor examines you and gives his orders, she-" he pointed to Gamora, "is going to report back to me if you break them, since clearly she has more sense than you."

"Sir, I don't need a babysitter-"

"Act like a baby, you get a sitter." Fury responded, cutting you off. "Adults know better than to just ignore serious injuries, Agent. Or do I need to remind you of the stunt you pulled in Romania?"

Gamora looked uncomfortable, and she wasn't even the one being scolded, though now she did wonder what you had done in Romania, wherever that was. Yondu was also curious, as Fury's statement confirmed you had done this more than once.

You sighed indignantly, "Sir I-"

"Enough. Unless you want to tell me you intend to defy orders, I suggest you keep any excuses to yourself. If I hear anything about you neglecting the doctor's orders, your ass will be assigned to a desk so fast your head will spin. Are we clear?"

Your eyes widened. Desk duty?! He couldn't do that to you. "What? Sir?! You can't do that-" you say, your voice almost pleading with a hint of indignation.

He says again, more firmly, "Are we clear?" Not only could he, he most definitely would. You thought being assigned to stay home was bad? Try being stuck in a cubicle for the next foreseeable future.

"Yes, sir." you say begrudgingly.

"Good."

Rocket started chuckling, pleased to see you get dressed down by your boss. In your own home, no less. Then he got an idea. "Hey, Agent." he said in a mocking tone.

You turn to glare at him. "What?" you respond irritably.

"Why don't you tell me where that new bed in my room came from?" He was wearing a shit eating grin, and you weren't sure why he'd bring it up right now.

You roll your eyes. "How should I know? Bed faeries? Piss off."

Rocket grinned wider. "Really? 'Cause I've got a feeling you aren't allowed to lie to your director, so if he were to ask..."

Fury, not in the mood, flatly repeated what he had said on the last visit, "I'm not here to get involved with your petty squabbles." adding, "I couldn't care less what this was about."

Rocket almost looked disappointed, and you relieved, before Agent Hill said, "Well, he might not care, but we'll be here for the next two hours waiting on results anyway... and technically I do outrank you..." Her smile wasn't malicious, it was clear that her intent was only some good-natured ribbing to her fellow agent who seemingly didn't like to admit that she'd done something nice for the asshole raccoon. Trying to lighten the mood.

You give Maria a look that says, 'Are you fucking kidding?'

Rocket looked delighted, and a few of the others looked pleasantly intrigued by your expression. By now everyone had pretty much gathered that you had made Rocket the bed, but you never would say as much. It'd be interesting if you'd actually admit it, or suffer whatever consequence lying to a superior might entail if they would choose to enforce it.

Fury, however, rolled his eye and told Maria he was going to have a word with the doctor. His way of saying that this issue wasn't worth his time, but he also wasn't going to stop whatever happened next.

Maria didn't force you to come clean about the bed. Not at first anyway. She did, however, exercise her power to keep you in line. Meaning, if you didn't do like you were told and just sit and wait for the doctor while the guys finished emptying the crates into the pantry and returned the crates to the vehicle, she'd make veiled threats to ask where the bed came from.

You knew she was only having a bit of fun, but you still stared daggers at her.

***

After a bit Fury returned with the doctor, who greeted you again by handing you the keys to your shed, stating that he locked it back up. He also informed that part of the the rabies test involved freezing the samples for 45 minutes, so he would examine you and Rocket in the meantime.

You went to motion for Rocket to go first, but Fury prodded the doctor in your direction, giving you a look that you knew better than to argue with. Rocket stuck his tongue out at you and remained sitting, satisfied, on the counter. Out of most everyone's sight, though, his tail twitched.

You were tense, but on your best behavior the whole time the doctor examined your injured arm, not wishing for Fury to come up with another punishment for your disobedience.

The doctor pulled a device out of a briefcase that turned out to be a fancy portable X-ray device to make sure there were no fractures. Luckily there weren't any.

The outcome was determined that you were very lucky. Somehow you had managed to set the bones back in place well enough on your own without accidentally breaking the radial heads in the 're-entry' process, something the doctor said he'd wouldn't have expected for a self-reset, but then again, most don't attempt to reset this type of injury on their own either. You were given a mild scolding by the doctor for not putting the arm in a sling so the ligaments could heal, however, and he said you were very lucky it didn't re-dislocate. You internally groaned as "I told you so's" peeped from behind you.

The doctor placed your arm in a strange hinged brace with a strap that made it sort of like a sling with the instructions that you were required to wear it with the strap for a week. Afterwards you could remove the strap, but you would still need to wear the brace for at least another two or three weeks. You were also placed on a weight restriction of only 5 pounds for your injured arm. Great...

You didn't say anything, only nodded, having gotten the message that it wasn't in your best interest to argue if you didn't want another tongue-lashing from Fury.

When the doctor was done with you he moved onto Rocket, who's ears momentarily flattened when he saw the doctor was now approaching him, but he quickly recovered, begrudgingly allowing himself to be examined.

As expected, the doctor found nothing of concern, barely even a scratch, which he was sure to clarify that Rocket likely wouldn't have contracted rabies from even if the animal does test positive.

The doctor turned to his coat pocket and pulled out a pre-loaded syringe of pinkish liquid, declaring to Rocket that it was the vaccine booster as he pulled off the cap.

Peter saw Rocket stiffen and finally noticed the twitching of his tail, and decided to be merciful and distract him. "Hey, Trash Panda,"

Rocket turned his head to Peter as the doctor grabbed his arm. "I don't answer to that, Star-Munch."

"You just did." Peter laughed.

Rocket growled at him before turning back to the doctor and asking him to hurry up so he could bite a chunk out of Peter's face.

"Already done," stated the doctor, capping the now empty needle and slipping it into a plastic bag before returning it to his pocket.

Rocket raised his eyebrows, forgetting his previous anger towards Peter. "Oh." His tail ceased its twitching. He hadn't felt a thing.

Peter didn't return to taunting and just let him forget. Mission accomplished.

Now done, the doctor announced he'd be going back to the lab-van to check on the samples, leaving you to sit awkwardly with your boss, co-worker, and the rest of the Guardians.

You look to the ceiling and sigh before saying, "Well I suppose I should offer you some tea if you're going to be here awhile."

Maria nodded that she'd take some and no sooner than you go to stand does Peter speak up and say, "Let me help-"

You give him a seething look that actually makes him recoil. "Unless you know how to make tea, fuck off. And even if you do, still fuck off. I don't need both arms to make fecking tea and I don't need your help. I'm not an infant." Your tone was even, but the venom was still there. A bit harsh, perhaps, but it sent the desired message. The whole situation was making you very cranky and maybe they shouldn't push it. At least for awhile until you had a chance to decompress.

Fury, however, shot you a disapproving look before you turned to put the kettle on, though he didn't say anything. He had pretty much expected this is how you might react.

The next half hour was mostly sipping tea and awkward attempts at conversation as everyone waited for the doctor to finish the test.

Yondu wasn't much interested in trying to make conversation, though he was surprised to find he didn't mind the tea. He was watching as you fiddled with your cup. You were quiet, and he thought you seemed nervous. Could you be nervous about the test results on that animal? Why? All evidence pointed to Rocket being completely fine, he hadn't been bitten, and that's what you said they had to worry about, right?

When the doctor finally returned he had good news. The raccoon had tested negative.

Yondu watched you visibly relax and it made him wonder if there was something you hadn't told them.

He was right. You were worried about the possibility of the raccoon's blood or saliva having found its way into one of the scratches or, more grossly, Rocket's mouth or eyes. If the raccoon had been infected, you knew those would be other possible ways Rocket still could have contracted the virus. You hadn't told the others because you hadn't wanted them to worry, but doing this only then made you worry. Not just because you didn't want to see even an asshole like Rocket die like that, but because you had told the others he'd be fine if he wasn't bitten, and that hadn't fully been the truth. It was a weight off your shoulders to hear that the test came back negative.

With that news Fury, Agent Hill, and the doctor were finally all able to leave. Fury stood and made eye-contact with Gamora. "Remember what I said, she steps out of line, disobeys the doctor's orders, you report back to us. Understood?"

Gamora nodded uneasily. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot and honestly wasn't looking forward to her assigned task, sure that it would only serve to piss you off.

Fury looked at you now. "Understood, Agent?"

You exhale irritably and say, "Yes, sir."

"Good. We'll be seeing you again next week."

You led them to the front door to let them out, but right before she walked out Maria turned to you with a smile and said, "Oh, almost forgot. Where did that new bed in Rocket's room come from?" She said it louder than necessary, no doubt to make sure that the others could hear the question being asked.

"Dammit, Maria!" you scold.

Fury now turned with a smirk, seemingly finally finding humor in the situation. "You know what. I changed my mind. I'd also like to know. Agent?"

You look to the ceiling with a pitiful look. Maria had only been joking, there wouldn't be any real consequences for refusing to tell her. Fury, however, was your boss, and if he wanted to be a dick about it, he could. Apparently your recent stunt with your injury had pressed his 'asshole' button. "I built it." you mutter.

Fury spoke in a tone louder than necessary, just to mess with you. "Sorry, Agent, I didn't catch that."

You glare at him and only speak up a little bit. "Said I built it, sir."

Fury chuckled, and spoke again in the louder-than-necessary voice, "Ah, you built the bed! What a nice thing to do, Agent!"

Rocket could be heard from the kitchen cheering, "I frickin knew it!"

You glared at your boss and coworker. "I hate you both so much."

Fury chuckled. "Goodbye, Agent."

"Goodbye, sir." you reply, promptly shutting the door.

You turn to see Rocket standing smugly in the kitchen doorway. Peter and Kraglin were standing behind him, appearing amused.

"Not a word." you say, barely looking at them as you made for the stairs.

Rocket laughed. "Oh, I was just going to ask if I should give my regards to you, or the faeries."

"Can't hear you!" you call back as you walk up the stairs.

"Come on now, that was a nice thing ya did!" Kraglin said, his tone teasing.

"Not listening!" you cry back as you climb higher, fully aware you were acting a bit like a child, but not caring in your pursuit to get away.

They heard your door shut and Kraglin turned to Peter to say, "She's an odd one, ain't she?"

"Yep."

***

Gamora felt uneasy. After conversing with the others about you, she had contacted Agent Hill on the communication device SHIELD had given them in case any issues arose. They were naturally concerned with how you kept to your room after the injury, and a few therefore worried that the injury was worse than you let on.

They could have just let you be, after you made it clear that you wouldn't accept their help, but after they saw you risk further injury to save their friend, she and Peter collectively decided they'd risk overstepping and contact SHIELD. You helped one of them, they'd help you. Even if you didn't want it, they felt you needed it.

What they hadn't expected was for Fury to be angry about it and, as a result, assign Gamora as your warden.

She talked with Peter in private, discussing what she should do about the situation. She didn't see the situation going well. You barely knew each other and you could be... well, stubborn might be an understatement. Eventually they agreed there was only one thing to be done. Just do it.

Or, at least make it look like she had every intention of carrying through without pissing you off to much. Sometimes people needed a little tough love for their own good, but Gamora knew if they crossed the line into overbearing things could go south real quick, and she didn't want to risk finding the tipping point that would make you make them leave. Being assigned someone to report back on you if you misbehaved was probably humiliating enough without them pushing it.

Now if they could only get Rocket on board.

You stayed in your room most of the day, but when you did come out to eat or to stretch your legs Rocket would throw teases at you, saying that you better stay in line if you didn't want Gamora to tell on you, and throwing taunts about the punishment Fury had threatened you with if you disobeyed the doctor's orders.

To their surprise, however, you just ignored him. You literally just didn't acknowledge him. Just walked about your business, and returned to your room without even a glance in his direction.

Then they realized it was only because you couldn't hear him. You had your earbuds in. Probably for the best, really.

Gamora's uneasiness eventually turned into relief when it became clear that you didn't hold a major grudge against her for squealing on you or her assignment from Fury. Based on your reaction earlier she had been worried that you'd focus your ire on her, but for whatever reason, you didn't seem to.

It was true, you didn't hold a grudge against her. Well, not after you had a chance to cool down about the situation, that is. Listening to music always made you feel better, so it helped your mood that you had kept your earbuds in for most of the day, (and let's be honest, it saved Rocket's ass too.) You took some time to reflect. Except for a period when you went for a walk to decompress, you stayed in your room and just thought about the situation. From what you had seen of Gamora, she probably only thought she was helping. Why she wanted to, you couldn't guess, but you just assumed she did. Fury was probably just trying to teach you a lesson, and you resolved to not let it get to you. You'd play the game, be good, and then he'd eventually get off your back. Easy.

After spending most of the day reflecting, you didn't feel as cranky as you had that morning. Yup, good old music and walking had done it's job to help your mood...

You hadn't made the connection that each of the three times Mantis came to your shared room to check on you, and would take your hand or place hers on your arm to ask how you were feeling, you felt a little more contented. You just assumed she was feeling affectionate and that you enjoyed her company.

Both of those were true, but Mantis had also been working her magic a little, wanting to see you cheer up but doing it in tiny doses so as to not ruin the practical joke Yondu had said would be real funny later if she didn't tell you about her abilities. She didn't know when the joke would be over, but she also didn't want to ruin it and disappoint her new friend.

Later that night you decided to break out a bottle of whiskey from the cellar. Try to get a buzz going. You brought it into the kitchen, asking those already at the table if they wanted any. Well, it was more like telling them that they knew where the glasses were if they wanted some, but still, an offer is an offer.

You sat down and poured yourself a glass as Peter grabbed a glass each for him and Gamora, and Kraglin fetched one for himself and Yondu.

Gamora was the first to speak. "I just wanted to aplogi-"

"No."

"What?"

"It's awkward enough without the apology. It's done. I'm sure you thought you were being helpful or something, but it's done."

Gamora raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well I-"

You sigh. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you're forgiven or whatever, but I don't want to talk about it. 'Kay?" you down your glass and pour another. "Don't kill my buzz before it's even started."

Peter started to speak up. "Well I feel Krags and I at least-"

You cut him off as well. "Same goes for you. We're not going to talk about it right now. It's done."

"Oh...kay..." Peter said, taking a sip. He attempted small talk after a bit. "So... how did you come about working for SHIELD?"

You sipped and shrugged before setting your glass down. "My dad was an agent, and I guess I followed in his footsteps." you say, toying with your glass. Eager to turn the conversation away from you, you asked, "How'd you lot go about becoming 'Guardians of the Galaxy'?"

That question had the desired effect. Peter started off the story by telling you how it actually all started with them getting thrown in prison over a stone and then breaking out of said prison together to locate said powerful stone that some dick called Ronan was going to use to wipe out an entire planet.

About a quarter the way through the story the rest of the Guardians came and the same offer was extended to them before you stood up and announced you should probably grab another bottle as the one you brought up was nearly empty.

Rocket piped up, "So where ya hide it anyway?"

You looked at him, confused and a little tipsy. Cocking your head you asked, "What?"

"The booze. You always seem to pull it out of thin air. Figured you were hiding it."

You blink at him while Peter scolded him for being dumb, a sentiment you now currently shared. You laugh and look at Gamora, who looked embarrassed by her friend. "Is he always this dumb?" Not waiting for an answer you turn back to Rocket. "It ain't hidden. Dipshit." You turn away to resume your task.

Rocket, offended that you would call him dumb, said, "If you ain't hiding it, why haven't we ever seen where you keep it."

Now Kraglin was giving him looks. Even if you were hiding it, it was your shit. You were already giving them a place to stay, you didn't owe them booze too. The rest were sure Rocket was just trying to get a rise from you, but the secondhand embarrassment was real.

You rolled your eyes but kept walking. It was most likely the alcohol, but you were actually finding humor in his stupidity. "It's in the cellar, space case. I won't stop you from tagging along. Make sure your mother signs the permission slip." With that you slipped out the kitchen door.

The guardians exchanged glances at your comment and Peter, who remembered school and field trips, said, "That was a joke. You wouldn't get it." He then stood up and said, "Might as well take the chance to see something new since we don't know how long we'll be stuck here." He then looked to Rocket and asked if he was coming, since technically the invitation had been extended to him.

Rocket, who had been clearly hoping for, or at least expecting, a fight, awkwardly followed in the direction you had left. Mantis and Groot stated they wanted to go see the cellar too, but the others opted to stay behind.

Seeing that four of them had actually decided to take up your mock-offer to come to the cellar, you waited for them to catch up. You honestly didn't care if they went into the cellar, as long as Groot didn't go down there to play, and you made a point to ask Peter to tell him that you didn't mind him coming down with the rest of you tonight, but he was under no circumstances to come down there to play as he could get hurt.

Rocket translated instead, seeming irritated that you had given the message to Peter instead of him, and you open the door start to walking down the stairs, the others trailing behind.

The cellar wasn't anything spectacular. The stairs were a bit creaky with age, and it was dusty and dim even with the light on. The walls were stone strung with cobwebs and the floor was made up of old red brick.

You reached the ground and led them to some shelves on the wall across from the boiler, to grab the whiskey. On the other wall next to the shelves was an old wooden door, but other than that, a few cans of paint, and another set of shelves on the far end of the cellar, it was largely empty. You didn't keep much down there due to the damp.

You turned back to face them once you grabbed a bottle and asked if Rocket was satisfied. You didn't recieve an answer, not like you had expected one anyway. Gesturing back to the whiskey you said to Peter that it was down here if they wanted it. You didn't care as long as they didn't get sloppy drunk and start wrecking shit on the regular.

Peter nodded and the four took in the sight of the cellar. Mantis looked like she regretted her decision to come down, and said it was a little creepy, and Groot seemed to share her opinion. Good. Would mean he wouldn't care to come play down there. Peter and Rocket, however, looked at the shelf behind you in surprise. There was... more whiskey than they had anticipated. A lot more.

"Not that it's any of my business, but why do you have so much whiskey down here?"

You turned back to the shelf. Remembering the reason combined with your tipsy state made you giggle as you answered honestly. "Decided to order a small case awhile back just to have a bit around. Might have ordered it drunk and messed up the size of the order... just a bit..."

'A bit' was an understatement. The whiskey didn't sit on just one shelf, but rather the whiskey took up a whole shelving unit. You had only meant to order one case. A case would have been maybe six bottles. Somehow you ended up ordering six cases, and of course there were no refunds. So, into the cellar with a few other assorted bottles it went. You didn't do any online shopping while drunk after that again.

Peter chuckled at your honesty and noticed the wooden door for the first time. He debated asking about it, it seemed oddly placed considering the layout of the house above, but Mantis beat him to it.

"Where does that door go?" she asked, pointing to it.

You look to the door and then back to them. "Closet," you say, before widening your eyes in mock realization to tease Rocket. "Oh right, better prove it before that one gets all suspicious again!"

Rocket narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, not thrilled with you making him the butt of a joke as you opened the door to reveal a small, dark closet, maybe a meter deep and just as wide. Pipe wrenches hung on hooks off the door, and inside was a bucket, a broom, and a shovel resting against a wall of shallow shelves which were empty aside from a few random tools and a couple lanterns.

You closed the door after a moment and to Peter's surprise you handed him the whiskey bottle you had retrieved and grabbed another. "Might as well grab two, save me a trip if we run out again," you explain before shooing them all up the stairs.

Once back in the kitchen you re-took your seat and poured yourself another glass before sliding the bottle towards the middle of the table for someone else to grab. "Alright, I believe you were telling a story now?" you say to Peter as he also sat down, seeming surprised you were still interested.

And you were. It was quite an interesting story and you had to admit it captured your attention quite well.

Before you knew it an hour had passed and the second bottle was finished between seven of you when they'd finished telling it. Mantis didn't like the taste and Groot wasn't permitted to have any, though fortunately he didn't seem to mind. Just sipped on some juice you had gotten up to pour for him and Mantis and played about on the table adorably as Peter told the story.

The Ronan guy had gotten the stone, but Peter and his team still won anyway, having managed to get the stone away from him. You had giggled when you realized that Peter had more or less described that they had used 'the power of friendship' to hold onto the stone, though he didn't seem as keen on that comparison. You were also surprised to learn that the little Groot before you wasn't the original Groot, but rather more like the original's son, and that Kraglin and Yondu weren't part of the team yet in this story, but actually the leaders of an almost adversary group of space pirates that had agreed to work with Peter with the promise of obtaining the stone for themselves. You wanted to ask about that, how they came about joining Peter's team and where the rest of their crew was, Ravagers you believed they were called, but before you could Yondu interjected.

"Yeah, I'd almost forgot about that switcharoo ya pulled with the stone, boy." Yondu said to Peter, who, now several drinks in, included that bit of the story despite the former captain and first mate sitting right at the table with him.

Peter chuckled nervously in response, and said in jest, "Well, you got a cool troll doll out of it, that's something, right?"

You snorted a short laugh out your nose at that, making the others turn to you in surprise. Aside from a few questions, you had been more or less quiet the whole time until now. "Troll doll?" you say, clearly tipsy, behind your hand. The thought was ludicrous to you. Of all the things, a troll doll.

Peter grinned, pleased to see you found it funny. "It was the only thing I had on hand that would fit in the orb." He admitted, giggling.

Gamora's eyes crinkled as she looked at Peter. She hadn't had nearly as much drink as him, but she still found his giggly nature and his ability to tell a story to be endearing. This was probably the most she had let herself relax since they arrived.

Kraglin lightheartedly punched Peter in the shoulder. He'd been angry when the "switcharoo" incident happened, but he'd since been given enough reason to get over it.

"You goofy cunt," you chuckled at Peter, standing from the table and grabbing the empty bottle to bin it.

Peter raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at you as you walked toward the bin. Had you just called him a 'cunt'?

The others shared surprised contemplative looks and Kraglin said, "I think that was a compliment?" He was unsure, but you hadn't exactly said it in a derogatory way, so perhaps it was?

You overheard him and said from the bin, "Eh. Close enough." You spared one final giggly glance towards the group before leaving the kitchen to use the bathroom.

Peter shrugged, correctly assuming that he shouldn't be offended and stood to put his now-empty glass in the sink before re-joining the table with the others.

They sat chatting for a bit longer, before they thought they heard the soft sounds of singing coming from the sitting room. Exchanging glances, Peter and Gamora decided to go check it out.

***

You didn't return to the kitchen after you finished your business. The story was finished and you were in a better mood than you had been that morning so you just made your way to the sitting room to relax in your rocking chair before your buzz could wear off.

You had been there just a few minutes with your eyes falling closed when the sensation of something crawling up your leg startled you. You jump slightly only to see it was Groot crawling into your lap. You then relaxed. Cute little bugger looked sleepy, and for whatever reason, decided he would crawl up into the rocking chair with you. You didn't mind, and even if you did, you were getting a little too sleepy to feel like wasting energy making him move.

He climbed up on your slinged arm, too light for the action to cause you any pain, and curled up as you rocked away.

You weren't sure what possessed you, likely the whiskey, but you started to softy sing him a lullaby. One you remembered your grandmother singing you to sleep with when you were little.

***

Gamora peeked in the doorway and stopped, seeing you in the rocking chair, though you didn't see her. The rocking chair faced the bookshelf on the opposite wall, putting your gaze perpendicular to her own.

You were the source of the singing, and it didn't take long for her to notice Groot curled up sleeping against you and to deduce that what you were singing was a lullaby.

The others had come to see as well, but Gamora motioned for them to be quiet and didn't let them get past the doorway, afraid that you would stop if you knew you had an audience.

"What is it?" Drax asked.

"I think she's singing a lullaby to Groot." Peter answered, turning to peek back through the doorway for a moment before stepping aside to let Drax see. Drax smiled warmly at the sight and motioned Mantis to take his spot.

Kraglin chuckled and whispered over to an equally amused Yondu, "Well ain't that precious."

"So what?" asked Rocket, annoyed that everyone was gathered by the doorway instead of entering. He was, however, definitely not jealous that Groot would have taken to you well enough to let you sing a lullaby to him. He was also definitely not irritated about the fact that Groot had aparently just fallen right asleep in your lap, when he had been having to deal with Groot fitting to go to sleep most nights due to being someplace new.

Gamora looked to him. "It's sweet."

"She ain't sweet, it's all an act. She don't really care."

"So it was an act when she shot that raccoon and saved your ass?" asked Peter, rolling his eyes at his furry friend.

Rocket threw up his arms in frustration, unwilling to admit the possibility of being wrong. "Probably! She don't really care about us. We're just an assignment to her. And I didn't need her help anyway."

Peter rolled his eyes again, and that's when they noticed the singing had stopped. They were too busy arguing to notice it had been getting softer and softer. Gamora peeked in again and saw that you had fallen asleep, and she whispered back to the group as such.

"Good. I'm putting Groot to bed." Rocket said, pushing through the others before they could say anything.

"Rocket!" Gamora hissed, finally entering the room herself along with Peter.

Rocket ignored her as he approached the rocking chair. Who did you think you were anyway, singing lullabies to Groot? You weren't his mother. He was the one raising Groot, he didn't need some Terran dickhead stepping in and playing 'mommy.' Rocket let his frustration get the better of his sense and instead of gently climbing to retrieve Groot, or asking someone else once he realized he wouldn't quite be able to reach, he decided to be an asshole and jump right into your lap, startling both you and Groot awake in the process.

"Ow! The hell?" you said groggily, rubbing your eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" Rocket said mockingly before walking off with a confused and groggy Groot.

The others gave him disapproving looks as they dispersed, not wanting to crowd the doorway any longer.

"You're a real asshole, ya know that?" Kraglin said before heading towards the stairs with Yondu. Rocket just ignored him.

Mantis, who also decided she would go to bed, said to Rocket as they climbed, "You're wrong, you know. She does care. I've felt it."

Rocket just rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever," before bounding up the rest of the stairs and to his room to put Groot down to sleep.

Peter and Gamora had decided to head back into the kitchen with Drax to clean up the forgotten empty glasses on the table, so by the time you got up and decided to head to bed yourself the hall was empty.

Too tired to do anything else, you decided to just go to bed. As you made your way up the stairs you remembered taking the others to the cellar and showing them what was behind the door, and wondered if you should consider getting a lock, just in case Groot disobeyed and decided to go play down there anyway.

They didn't need to find out what was behind the back wall of that closet.

[9tzuyu]

my guitar is slightly out of tune, but i’m eternally yours.

[reuploaded and revised from my old blog.]

↠ prompt: you have a terminal illness but you have a chance with treatment but you deny it, then you meet wanda and you feel alive again.

↠ warnings: kinda angsty, but worth the read :>.

requests are always open!

masterlist

∘∴∙*⋆∙∴⋆∘∙*. ∘

���Oh–” was all you managed to say. “I recommend we start radiation treatments-” You zoned out and watched your feet dangle from the edge of the exam table. Was this it? Was this really all there was for you? It seemed hopeless to even do anything at this point. You figured if this was affecting you again, it was for a reason. 

"No. I don't want treatment." The doctor looked at you and his gaze faltered. "You do understand that if you refuse treatment this will inevitably kill you?" You nodded. The words felt empty, they carried no weight behind them anymore. Nonetheless, the doctor continued to try and persuade you. 

"I said I don't want the treatment. I'm refusing medical advice. I don't want to have to go through this again, it's obviously not going away. Now where the hell do I sign the papers?" You exasperated. The doctor gave you one last look before getting the papers for you to embark your signature on.

“You’re one-hundred percent sure about this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I've got nothin' left for me here anyways. Might as well just let nature take its course.”

"Well surely you've got someone, a friend maybe?" You shook your head.

 "Nope." You replied, popping the P at the end. The doctor seemed to finally grasp the situation when you handed the papers back to him as if you were turning in a job application.

He pursed his lips, "I'm going to give prescribe medication for the pain. Based on the size of the tumor I'd say you have about eight months to live, but only about half of those months will be enjoyable." You nodded your head in reply and gathered your stuff together. 

So how were you going to spend your last months on earth? That was the question you asked yourself. You walked out of the building and found yourself in a coffee shop. It was busy, but you found yourself a seat next to a window in the back of the shop. Your eyes gazed out the window as you pondered your question from earlier.

'I could move to New York and see broadway shows I've never wanted to see'

'There's always casinos–'

'–Or what about splurging your money on dumb things that you'll quite literally never need?'

You laughed at your thoughts. You made up your mind right there, you were going to live the rest of your life just the way it was. It’d be easier that way. You didn't have friends, no longer had parents, so it's not like anyone would really miss you really. All you had was your pet cat and your guitar. And truth be told, that's all you needed. 

Coffee.

"Hello?" You snapped out of your gaze to see a beautiful brunette standing in front of you. The second thing you noticed was her accent, you'd never heard it before. “I was wondering if this seat was taken?” She softly smiled at you. You returned the gesture and shook your head no. "The place is cram packed and you seemed trustworthy. I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything, you seemed to be pretty deep in thought." The young woman blushed a crimson color, "I'm sorry I probably seem weird or something, I'll go."

Normally you would have cared, but at this point in time you didn't mind the company. So, with the slightest bit of hesitation, you called out for her.

“Wait! It’s fine, don’t worry. I-I’m all alone.” The woman’s smile widened as she took a seat across from you. “Thanks. I'm Wanda, what's your name?”

"Y/N." 

"Y/N..." She flexed your name on her tongue, "That's a beautiful name."

"I'm stuck with it for life, so I sure hope it's at least a decent name." You narrowed your eyes at her as you joked. A giggle escaped the gap between her lips, causing a small flutter to emit in your stomach.

"So what do you do?" She asked, intrigued by your presence.

"Well I do a lot of things, I walk, I talk, I breathe-"

"Oh shut up! You know what I meant." Wanda’s eyes gleamed with friendliness and warmth. She seemed like the type you'd be friends with if you weren't dying. "Okay, okay, I play guitar and sing while my cat eats her food." Wanda's eyes lit up at the mention of a cat. 

"You have a cat? What's her name?" Her elbows were propped up on the table with her head resting in her hands, showing just how actually interested she was in you.

“Her name is Nala. You know, from The Lion King?”

Wanda’s brows furrowed together. She’d never seen The Lion King, much less heard of it.

Your jaw dropped at her confusion. “You mean to tell me you’ve never seen The Lion King?”

“I’m Sokovian, what do you expect?” 

“Ahh, I see. Well, do you at least have any pets?”

"My apartment doesn't allow pets."

"So? Sneak one in." You replied nonchalantly, crushing ice between your teeth. Wanda looked at you in shock. "No way! Knowing me I'd get my ass caught on the first day." You shrugged in reply and the conversation quickly went dead.

Wanda checked her phone, moving abruptly to get up from her seat. "I'm so sorry, I have to go now. I'll see you around, okay?"

“Sure.”

After another half hour of waiting on nothing and thinking about everything, you finally decided it was time to leave. A feeling of regret washed over you. The woman was kind, very friendly, something that you craved.

But you couldn’t allow yourself these things now, especially given the direction you were heading.

_____

Over the next few weeks you'd spent your time songwriting, journaling and a midst of other lonely, boring things. Sometimes you'd catch yourself thinking about the woman in the coffee shop, but you tended not to dwell too much on the past. 

You thought about your tumor and all the different ways it was growing inside you. It grossed you out more than anything, but you weren't afraid. At least not now you weren't. 

A heavy sigh slipped from your lips, and the sudden urge to go to the park overtook the need to do anything else. You’d never really visited the park in your area before, so you decided now was the time. 

The beige acoustic guitar rest heavily on your shoulders, similarly to the weight of the world. It was bitter, no taste of sweetness was left over in the aftermath.

Leaves crunched under your feet as you made your way into the park. The smell of pine and bark surrounded you, just as the pinch of cold air that struck your face. It was tranquil.

You marched your way over to a nearby tree secluded from everyone else. Setting your guitar down, you nested cozily against the wood. Your journal rest aside your hip as did the pen that exchanged your thoughts into words.

Humming quietly, your fingertips grazed the instrument’s delicate strings. Music filled the air around you, but it came to a quick stop nearly ten minutes after you’d begun.

"Hey, I know you. Y/N, right?" You heard a familiar accented voice behind you. You turned around to find Wand standing above you. "Uh yeah, that's me. What's up?" She sat down beside you, making you a little uncomfortable, but you figured you could deal with it for the sake of being nice. 

"Nothing. I just saw you and thought I’d say hi. What about you? I see you have your guitar."

“Just singing,” you mumbled quietly.

She smiled and pushed a strand of hair out of your face that was blown in from the wind. "You’re really pretty." You bit your lip and you could feel the heat rise to you face. "Thanks."

"Mhm. So last time I didn't get your number, maybe I will this time?" She asked (although her eyes were begging). You couldn’t help but feel something while she bit her lip, her doe eyes unintentionally focusing on your lips.

"I'll have to give you mine, I didn't bring my phone with me – don’t use it much." You replied. She handed her phone to you and you typed your number in.

"Do you not have family or friends you keep up with?" Her brow quirked in curiosity.

"Parents died, no siblings, and no friends. I don't have many people to worry about."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine, I don't mind." She looked down in her lap before asking another question. "What about a job? Do you work?" Wanda was definitely a curious one, but each question she asked carried you in a way you’d never felt before. It was refreshing to have someone interested in you, and not your disease. 

"Nope, when my parents died they left all their life savings to me. It's plenty enough for me to live on." Your fingers began lightly playing the chords of a song. It was often that you unknowingly played when you were scared or nervous. You'd only realize afterwards. 

"That's good– not that your parents died, but you know, you have money and stuff. Even if it's– oh my god- " 

You cracked out a laugh, causing her to look at you in terror. Noticing this, you rest a hand on her shoulder. "Wanda, it's okay. You're fine, I know what you mean." She nodded shyly and looked up to the sky. 

"Hey, it's sunset! I love sunsets, I used to watch them all the time with my brother back in Sokovia." Her voice wavered at the end of her sentence, and you easily picked up on it.

"Something wrong?" You asked. She laid her head on your lap and you stiffened, but quickly relaxed. This is fine. This is okay. You set your guitar aside and began to play with her hair.

"I miss him. Pietro..." She paused for a second before continuing. "He died a couple of years ago from cancer." You felt your heart drop for the first time at the mention of the horrid disease that stripped you away from most of your life. "Oh." The word seemed to become your go-to for whenever you didn't know how to accept information you were given.

"He was the other half of me. We were twins, I felt like my whole world fell apart. After he died I moved out of my country and moved here. Since then I've made some good friends. You might like them." 

“I’m sorry about your brother. I’m sure he was wonderful, Wanda.” You whispered, bringing a piece of her hair to the end of a braid. “I'm happy you've made some friends." Wanda nodded and snuggled closer in your lap. "Maybe I can be your friend?" You gave it a thought. You weren't sure you could do that to her, not with your illness anyway. Guilt nawed at you already. She’d already lost someone so beloved and close to her from it, how awful you began to feel if you had to put her through that again.

"Y/N?"

You stared at her for a few moments before answering. "I don't know, maybe." She turned over to face you, but you avoided her gaze. "I'm going to figure you out you know." You stifled a laugh, "And you'll be sorry you ever did."

"Whatever."

____

Four months passed and you thought they would be empty, meaningless months, but with Wanda nuzzling her way into your life you began to feel alive for the first time. When she came around it was like a switch you couldn't turn off. 

Right now, you sat at your desk strumming your guitar while watching Nala play with a toy dinosaur you’d bought her just weeks ago. This life was good too, you thought. But it was lonely.

You weren't quite sure what Wanda meant to you yet, but you were slowly discovering that whatever the two of you had, blossomed into something more each second you spent together.

Popping a Vicodin in your mouth, your phone buzzed. It would be no one else but Wanda.

be there in a few, it's urgent. 

Panic set in your body as you worried for the safety of your friend. What could possibly be the matter? Normally Wanda talked about what was bothering her.

A knock at your door brought you out of your gaze and you stumbled to answer it. Wanda was distressed, her hair a mess and her eyes red.

“Whats wro-” You were cut off By Wanda smashing her lips onto yours. 

She pulled back in shock. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I-"

You shut her up by pushing her into the wall, door closing behind you. Her lips tasted of strawberry and her hands began to roam your body.

One thing led to another and you both ended up naked on your bed. How amazing it must be to wake up and know that you won’t be dead in the next few months.

"You're good. Almost too good. Where did you learn all that from having no friends?" She smirked at you. You gave her a smile and kissed her again. Your arms wrapped around her nude body and together you felt the utter bliss and excitement radiating from one another.

. . . . 

Three weeks later yoy began to shake. It was hardly noticeable, and it just so happened to occur when you were playing

It’s downhill from here and you know that.

"Can you fix it? Can you fix this?" You yelled at him, despite knowing it was all your fault. If you would've just taken the treatments you wouldn't be in this place. But back then your life had no real meaning, it was just you and your cat.

You hadn't planned on falling in love with someone. 

"There's nothing I can do now. Treatments won't work, it's too far gone. I'm surprised it took this long to start showing symptoms."

For the first time in years, you felt tears beginning to build in your eyes. "You don't understand, I love her and now I'm just going to leave her? This can't be happening, you have to do something!" You pleaded, but the doctor’s eyes were solemn, giving you the only reply you needed. 

You stormed out of the hospital and made your way to Wanda. Silence rang through your ears.

Tell her. You have to tell her.

It will be over.

Sobs wrecked your body as you fumbled with the keys to your shared apartment. The door opened to a sight you wanted to live forever.

There she was, perched on the couch while massaging Napa’s scruffy fur. She was content, happy, and here you were to ruin it.

"Y/N? Baby what's wrong?" She got up from her spot and rushed over to you, worry etched on her face. You clung onto her for more life than you had left. And god, You weren't scared before, but you sure as hell were now. 

"I have terminal cancer."

Wanda froze.

"That's not funny, Y/N. You know how I feel about this topic." Her glare was hasty, burning into your skin.

"I was diagnosed almost five months ago, please Wanda you have to believe me. I have tremors, don't you see?" You raised your hand up to show her, but she slapped it away. "You're making yourself do that, Y/N. Stop joking, or I'm leaving." She crossed her arms

"W-What?" Your chest tightened.

"I said stop joking."

"I'm not joking, Wanda!"

"I'm leaving," She huffed, snatching her jacket before slamming the door shut.

And it was true, she did leave. However, Wanda didn't leave for the reasons she gave you.

She loved you, but she couldn’t handle another loss like this.

. . . . 

During the next two months you experienced the most heartache you'd ever felt before. The combination of vomiting, body aches, and dizziness didn't help. If anything, it made it worse. You missed Wanda. Everything about her gave you a reason to live.

You were on your seventh month and the pain was unbearable. It hurt to reach out for a cup of water, your hands shook uncontrollably all while sending jolts of scorching pain throughout the entirety of your arm.

Undoubtedly, the hospital bed became your next best friend (although it was the worst one you’d ever had. But it somehow managed to weasel its way back in your life).

Wanda was nowhere to be seen, and if anything that only progressed your disease. The only thing that kept you sane was your guitar, and the fact that Nala was being taken care of by a sweet, old nurse (who sometimes snuck her in so you could see her).

It was about the small things now. 

More days passed and each one was getting worse. By now you just wanted to end it all on your own, but you were physically too weak to do that.

There was a knock on your door, but you ignored it thinking it was just another nurse. "Y/N?" The voice was soft, it felt like it'd been years since you last heard it. You turned your head slightly to see Wanda standing in the doorway. A weak smile formed on your face.

"Hey you." 

Wanda quickly dropped her things and ran to your side. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She mumbled over and over again as you calmly stroked her hair.

"It's okay, you know it is." You whispered in her ear. She looked up at you and shook her head, "But it's not okay, I left you when you needed me the most." You stared at her adoringly and the tips of your fingers gently rubbed away the tears from her face. "But I'm still here, aren't I?" She laughed through her cries, "Yeah... you're still here."

Both of you knew you didn't have much time left, but you ignored that other than the fact that you made her promise to take care of Nala when you were gone. She held your hand and got you everything you needed.

And you love her so deeply for that.

One night you had the feeling that your time was coming soon, so you woke Wanda up from her sleep. "Sweetheart?" She stirred a little before finally sitting up. 

"Yeah?"

"Hand me my guitar?" She tilted her head, "But your shakes?" You ignored her and asked for it again. 

When she handed you your beloved guitar you took it with grace. "Come help me, I wanna play a song." She nodded and came to your side.

Your fingers struggled as they strummed the delicate strings on the instrument. You picked one of Wanda's favorite, and when you were done you spoke lightly.

"My guitar is slightly out of tune, but I'm eternally yours."

[ttttaehyungie]

secret santa | kth x reader

secret santa | kim taehyung x reader

genre | bff2l, fluff

summary | What you thought was an ingenious plan to figure out the perfect gift for your secret santee turns out to take a whole bunch of wrong turns, but with the best outcomes.

rating | NC-17

word count | 6.2k words

warnings | some profanities (it’s like... once LOL), mentioned breakups, it’s Christmas in the context of a pandemic

a/n | Merry Christmas everybuddy 🎄✨ here is a lighthearted (or at least it was until i hit the 6am point of the night while writing slkdjflkjd) lil christmas gift to everyone, but mostly to myself LOL bcos I’m finally posting a fic about the one who owns my heart in its entirety 😌

Christmas without you would just not be Christmas at all

Bright mistletoes up above us, it’s just you and me

-- V, Snow Flower

“C’mon, ____,” Taehyung whines. He plops down on the couch next to you and puts his big, round eyes to good use, giving you the puppy dog eyes treatment.

Well too bad for Taehyung, having known him for the last decade has granted you immunity against his pouty antics. There’s a couple of things that Taehyung employs in a bid to get what he wants. First, he’ll whine. Next, he’ll attempt to reason it out with you… or as much as he can convincingly reason with the pout still laced thick in his tone. If that fails, he’ll try bargaining. And finally, if none of the aforementioned has managed to sway you, he’ll just pout in silence.

“That’s the thing about Secret Santas, Tae, they’re supposed to be, y’know, secret.”

“Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who your santee is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

There it is. Stage two.

You ignore him and return to scrolling through Amazon in what you hope is a nonchalant manner.

“What if I guess who it is?” he tries.

When you don’t reply, he continues, “Is it Hoseok?” He runs a hand through his golden locks in thought. “No, buying for Yoongi is easy because all he ever wants is practical things like planners. You wouldn’t need help with that. Hm… Is it Seokjin?”

He rambles on about different kitchenware that could make a good present for Jin, a ramble that would have been really helpful if only Jin were actually your secret santee.

Taehyung gasps and falls silent, shocking you into finally looking up from your phone. His already round eyes are even rounder, wide as they are in shock. A hand hovers over his mouth as he goes still.

Then, as suddenly as he had gasped, he relaxes into a laugh.

“For a moment, I thought your secret santee was me,” he says, chuckling. A jolt runs through you, and your breath hitches in a way that you pray is unnoticeable. “But you’re too shitty a liar to do that.”

“Hey!” You jab his side playfully and he yelps. “What do you mean? I’m a great liar.”

“That’s a blatant and unconvincing lie right there.”

You fold your arms and turn away.

“I know you’re not actually mad, ____,” comes his sing-song voice, crossing his arms behind his head and reclining into the couch.

Letting out another huff, you turn further away. So when he grabs your hands and pulls you to face him, it startles you a little.

His eyes search yours, and you can’t help yourself from stumbling into their depths. The seriousness in his gaze holds yours intently.

But just as you think he’s about to apologize, his eyes melt into little crescent moons as he grins. “So. Who’s your secret santee?”

His cry comes out muffled under the cushion you hit him with.

An exasperated groan leaves you the moment you close the front door. Tipping your head back to rest against the solid wood, you shut your eyes. You hear footsteps pad closer.

“I take it your plan didn’t succeed?” Irene says, leaning against the wall as she takes in your defeated stance.

“Nope,” you say, picking yourself back up and hanging up your scarf and coat. Your roommate’s still in the same fuzzy pyjamas she was in when you’d left for Tae’s earlier in the day, and honestly, she’s got the right idea. You’re ready to get back into jammies too.

A Lifetime movie plays in the background, and you’d be willing to bet your life’s savings -- not that there’s much when you’re but a struggling student -- that she’s got a mug of hot chocolate to accompany her.

“Another Christmas movie?” you scoff in mock disgust. “How are you not sick of them yet?”

“What else are we supposed to do during a quarantined Christmas?”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’d be doing this even without the quarantine.”

“Hey. If you detest it so much, I heard that Taehyung’s place has many vacant rooms right now.”

You roll your eyes. She got that information from you. Both his roommates were gone from the apartment for the time being, one went back home for the holidays and another had chosen to attend the entire semester from home since everything was online anyway, leaving Taehyung with the luxury of the entire apartment to himself.

Meanwhile, Irene was making full use of the ongoing situation to evade going back home for the holidays. Too much family drama to allow her to binge-watch her holiday flicks in peace, she’d said.

And you? It’s kinda awful, but you’ve chosen to remain in your apartment just slightly off-campus so that you could get a head start on your research for your thesis, the campus library’s offerings much more vast than the local neighborhood library of your small town hometown.

Upon hearing this, Taehyung had offered to stay to keep you company over the holidays. “We’ve spent every Christmas together ever since we were kids, Christmas would just feel too weird without you,” he’d said. “And then we can join the gang’s Zoom Christmas celebration together too! I heard that’s what Namjoon and Jin will be doing since they’re both in the city over Christmas.”

How you’d managed to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of goo at his casual selflessness was a real feat. Taehyung had always been close to his family, and often missed them intensely while you guys were miles apart from home each college semester. So for him to give up a trip back home so you could still have a piece of home with you over Christmas was not a small sacrifice.

“Hellooo?” Irene waves a hand in your face. You jump, jolted out of your thoughts. “Are you actually daydreaming about it? Ooh, staying over at your crush’s place with no one else around… saucy things could happen, ____.”

Although that wasn’t what you were thinking about, you still feel the heat rise to your cheeks at being caught daydreaming about Taehyung. Instead, you give a feeble excuse to get Irene off your back, “I’m just thinking about secret santa gifts again. Ugh, why’d I have to draw him of all people?!”

“Are you sure you aren’t overthinking this because of your feelings? How difficult is it to think of a gift for a guy you’ve been friends with since you were kids? What about his interests?”

“That’s real tough. His hobbies are so whimsical and oftentimes just impulsive. Remember the phase with the film camera? And then the short-lived violin phase? And the piano phase? The only outcome of that phase is him playing the Chopstick Waltz every single time we pass by a piano.”

“Well, what about something that’s been a constant in his life then through all the phases?”

You purse your lips in thought, weighing the thought. It’s not a bad suggestion, but what has been a constant for him all this time?

Coming up with naught, you sigh and turn to head to your room. “I’ll think about it while I get changed back into my jammies.”

When you described Taehyung’s ideas and interests as being whimsical and oftentimes impulsive, this is exactly what you meant.

“Tae, I don’t think it’s gonna fit. Why’d you get such a big one?”

“You just have to believe, ____. We just need faith, trust, and- well actually, maybe just faith and a really good, hard thrust.”

“I feel like there’s so many that’s what she said jokes to be made here.”

“Wasting your energy on that line of thinking is the reason why we haven’t gotten this christmas tree through the door yet.”

With one more solid push, the widest part of the tree finally makes it through the narrow doorway of Taehyung’s apartment, and the two of you go stumbling forward with the extra momentum.

“We did it!” he exclaims, wrapping you up in a hug. “You believed!”

Internally cursing yourself for the way your heart has the audacity to stutter at his touch. The hug is nothing- the warmth that seeps from his body to yours is familiar because hugs are nothing special in your friendship. Even in your grade school memories, Taehyung had always been a tactile person, giving out hugs generously and demanding them in return by simply throwing himself at people to be received in an embrace, coerced or not. As you and your peers grew older, Taehyung became more aware and withheld himself from his sudden hug attacks, especially towards the other girls. But not you. He felt no need to skirt around things with you, and you found a quiet hum of satisfaction in knowing that Taehyung could be his tactile self with you. Hugs were just an expression of your friendship. Nothing more.

That is, until you wanted them to be more.

You shake the thought away. You’ve dealt with this successfully for more than a year now and you can continue on.

Taehyung loosens his hold but keeps his arms around you, leaning back to look at you. The soft puffs in his cheeks and the light creases around his eyes as they bunch up in happiness are just some of the little things you adore about him. The contentment practically radiates off of him. It’s just like him to get this excited over a christmas tree.

“Shall we get to setting it up?” you ask and he nods, releasing you completely then to get to work.

After the two of you find the perfect spot, situating the tree in the corner of the living room by the windows and in reach of a power socket, you grab the bag of decorations.

The oddly small and light bag of decorations.

“Tae?” you ask, pulling out the single box of baubles. “Is this all you got?”

Grinning sheepishly, he nods. “I didn’t have much left for decorations after I chose the tree.”

“Why’d you choose such a big tree then?”

“What’s the point of getting a tiny tree? It’s only nice and festive if it’s large!” he exclaims.

“Well, what’s the point of getting a big tree that will be bare except for six baubles, Tae?!”

“I was thinking we could improvise the decorations.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Improvise?”

“Yeah, like- wait,” he says, running to his bedroom. His voice floats over from the narrow corridor, “just hang on!”

After a little rustling and rummaging, Taehyung emerges with two shoeboxes and a few scarves thrown over his shoulders. Grabbing one of the shoeboxes from him, you open it to reveal a bunch of keychains. Souvenirs from his friends’ travels and some of his own too. In there, you recognize an eiffel tower keychain you gifted him after your family’s holiday to France.

“Here, look!” He grabs a few and begins hanging them on the tree. “Decorations!”

You laugh. It’s a classic Taehyung move, and honestly it doesn’t look half bad. Picking a few keychains of your own from the box, you join him in placing them around the tree.

“What are you going to do about the tree topper?” you ask.

He smirks. “I’ve already got that all figured out.” Unboxing the second shoebox to reveal his collection of polaroid photos, he rifles around till he finds the photo he wants. Brandishing the polaroid of Yeontan, he grins. “Both an angel and a star. Perfect.”

You can't argue with that logic, and you say as much before vacating the step stool so he can clip the polaroid to the top of the tree with a wooden peg. Eyeing the pile of scarves on the couch, you ask, “What about the scarves?”

“Scarves? You mean ribbons?” he says, and begins draping them across the tree. You giggle and reach for one. The soft material is plush, caressing your skin as you run your fingers over the material. It's much nicer than the other scarves, you notice, and way too nice to be stuck on a christmas tree.

“Hey,” you say, “isn’t this cashmere? Are you sure you want such a nice sweater on your tree?”

Taehyung shrugs. “It was a gift from my ex. It’s not like I’m going to wear it anymore.”

His ex. The words hit you like a punch to your gut.

Taehyung's ex, Samantha, was a pleasant person to be around, easygoing and bubbly with a sunny personality that matched him well. At least, from what you could tell based off the first two months of their relationship that you got to witness firsthand. You're not quite sure who exactly initiated the distance -- whether it was from your own courtesy that you gave them space, or whether Samantha had, directly or indirectly, requested for it -- the memories were all too foggy by now.

What you do remember is that one moment they were happy together, and the next they were broken up, the relationship lasting just a little over six months. Taehyung never spoke much about it and when you did probe, he would brush it off with scant excuses that they just figured they weren't compatible after all.

That had been some time in the spring. Briefly, you wonder how many wears the scarf had gotten, and how much sentimental value it held. The quality of the material hinted towards a relationship that had been going strong.

Yet, you muse over it as you drape the luxurious material over the prickly christmas tree, Taehyung brushed it off with such brashness that spoke otherwise.

“Hey,” Taehyung breaks the silence that has fallen between you, clearing his throat in a self-conscious manner as if he’s feeling guilty over the awkward turn that the conversation had taken. You look at him, half-hidden behind the tree pines, his eyes pensive. Maybe he’ll finally open up about the relationship -- it’s been eight months after all. But then he flashes his usual elfin grin. “Any luck with your secret santee gift yet?”

You groan, partly because no, you’re still clueless and stuck on what to get him, and partly because he’s once again evaded the topic of his ex.

The incessant buzzing of your phone gets ignored, vibrating almost violently in its spot on the tinyass coffee table next to your feet which you’ve kicked up ever so demurely. The consecutive, rapid-fire notifications can only be from an overly enthusiastic Taehyung.

Irene nudges foot with her own socked one. “Aren’t you gonna check your phone? I can pause the movie if you want.”

“Nah, I’ve watched Home Alone enough times to not care about missing anything. And it’s probably just Tae being all excited about secret santa gift suggestions.”

“Ooh, how’s that going? Finally got him to spill what he might want?”

An exasperated sigh escapes you. “No, he’s sending me individualized suggestions for everyone that are so well thought out and personalized that I can’t get them for anyone else.”

Grabbing your still-buzzing phone, you flick through your texts. Just as you’d predicted, Tae’s sent you a bunch of Christmas socks he found on Amazon that he thinks would make a good addition to Jin’s collection of festive socks, a set of really nice paints that would pair well with Yoongi’s newfound interest in painting, and an anthology of time-travel short stories that he thinks would fascinate Namjoon.

“Hm, d’you think he’s called your bluff? Intentionally sending you suggestions that wouldn’t be helpful?”

You shake your head, frowning. “Tae’s not like that. Honestly, it was just a bad move on my part, hoping that he would give some generic gift suggestion that would let slip what he really wants. Tae is too thoughtful to get people generic gifts. He puts his heart and soul into the presents he buys for others.”

Reaching over, Irene pinches your cheek lightly as she coos at you, “Awww, you’re so in love with him. I can feel the cavities forming.”

“Pretty sure those are from the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows you love so much,” you say, tipping your chin in a gesture to the mug in her hands.

Irene sticks her tongue out and takes an extra large sip in typical defiance.

As much as you mock Irene for her love for Lifetime holiday movies and hot chocolate, you do have to admit that there’s a certain appeal to it. Curled up on the lumpy couch in Taehyung’s apartment, cupping the hot beverage in your hands, even the uneven lumpiness of the cheap piece of furniture begins to feel comfortable.

The entire room is dark, save for the glow of the television. Taehyung has always insisted that this is the best way to watch movies. Maybe it’s a good thing your makeshift decorations on the christmas tree -- still standing proudly in the corner of the room -- didn’t include christmas lights after all.

Outside, the snowfall has gotten pretty intense, the temperature dipping significantly compared to the previous few days. It is well and truly winter, the cold showing no mercy to anyone who wasn’t prepared for it. You’re thankful to be inside and with a nice hot drink.

But as the film runs on, you get so engrossed in the plot that you don’t even realize you’ve finished your drink till you drain the last of it. Oh.

Looking over at Taehyung, you could always request for more and you know he’d be more than happy to make you another cup. But the movie is at its climax and the way his eyes are glued to the screen, his mouth slightly agape with how invested he is in the film, you can’t bring yourself to interrupt him now. So you try to ignore the way the cold begins nipping at your fingertips.

Soon enough though, the once warm mug that was a pleasant source of heat became stiff cold ceramic between your equally stiff fingers. Scrunching your toes, you wish you’d thought to bring an extra pair of socks over, especially when you think about the pair of socks you’d stuffed into your boots, soggy and cold with melted ice. A shiver runs through you at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks, and you jump. You didn’t realize he’d noticed.

“Yeah, a little.”

He pouts. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? C’mere,” he says, and lifts the edge of his blanket, revealing his plaid pants and sweatshirt combination.

Crawling in quickly, you tell yourself that you’re only complying because you know he’ll put up a fight if you don’t, and you don’t want the cold air getting into the cocoon of warmth he’s created with his blanket. Not because you’re excited to snuggle up with Tae. Definitely not. But now that you’re here, you may as well make the most of it, you figure.

Taehyung yelps as you press your icy toes to his warm thigh. Your arms wind their way around him, desperately seeking out the warmth of his body heat. Nuzzling lightly into the crook of his neck, you sigh, finally getting some relief from the cold.

The tiniest of groans escapes him. Then, a tight gasp. Stiffening, you peer up at Taehyung carefully.

He’s turned to look at you too, his attention that was once rapt by the movie now focused directly on you with equal intensity. Nervous energy accumulates within you and your heart rate skyrockets, now keenly aware of every hard plane of his body against yours. The logical part of you regrets the way you launched yourself at him and gave no regards for personal space. But you’re only dimly aware of that. The part of you that just wants Taehyung, the part that you’ve kept under lock and key, now fights against the restraints you’ve tied yourself into, unravelling you. You gnaw at your lip unsurely, and you watch as Taehyung’s gaze drops to your lips, heavy-lidded as they linger there, then darting back up to meet yours head-on.

The hand that he has on your hip grips you a little tighter, and you clutch the front of his sweatshirt in response. Your heart is pounding now, and the headiness of it all makes you feel swirly. Is he leaning clo-

Slam!

Both of you jump. The noise from the film startles you both, and you accidentally head butt Taehyung’s chin in the midst of it. He yelps in pain.

“I’m so sorry!” You frantically rub the spot to soothe it. “Are you ok?”

He laughs it off in his usual carefree manner. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure? It doesn’t hurt?”

“It’ll be fine in a bit,” he says, pulling you into his chest, his warmth emanating from his chest to your back in a comforting manner. “Let’s continue watching the movie.”

With his arms wound around you, you wonder if he can feel the way your heartbeat continues to beat erratically. If he does, he says nothing about it. And underneath you, you can feel clearly how his heartbeat matches yours in its stuttering pace. But you say nothing about it. Not for the duration of the movie, not when it ends, not when you stand to leave, and not when he wishes you goodnight at the door.

The next day, you wake up with thoughts of yesterday sending your mind into a spiralling whirlpool. You decide it’s time to make an emergency call.

Also, it’s five days to Christmas and you still haven’t thought of a suitable gift for Taehyung.

“Hello?” comes a chirpy voice over the line.

“Jiminie!”

“____! What’s up?”

“Listen, I need your help. It’s about the secret santa thing.”

“What about it?”

“I need a suggestion for a gift for your best friend.”

Jimin chuckles. “Isn’t he also your best friend?”

“Well, yes, but…”

You take him through your original plan to covertly ask Taehyung what he would like by asking what would make a good gift, and how it got completely derailed, to which Jimin just laughed. And then your discussion with Irene on finding something that has been a constant in his life. Since you’re on the phone with Jimin, you take the chance to rant about your annoyance with yourself at not foreseeing Taehyung’s thoughtfulness and the personalized gift suggestions that he’s been giving you.

“____,” Jimin interrupts you mid-rant. “The answer is right in front of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe your plan didn’t really fail. If Tae is suggesting personalized gifts, then…” he trails off meaningfully.

You gasp. “Oh. You’re absolutely right, Jimin, you genius!”

“This was your own plan, ____.” He chuckles. “Now as for what has been constant in his life… Do you really not realize?”

Oh.

“Jimin, you’re a genius, y’know that?”

“So I’ve been telling everyone.”

“Ok, I gotta go now,” you say, excitement zipping through you as your mind fills abuzz with different ideas now that Jimin has set you on the path.

“Seeya on the 25th, you dork.”

“See you!”

Belatedly, you realize you missed out on telling Jimin about what had happened the day prior. But you shrug it off, figuring that you could tell him about it another time.

---

But as it turns out, you don’t. The hectic rush of preparations for Christmas keep you and your friends so busy, you’re thankful everyone’s blocked out Christmas night for each other or you’d just miss each other completely otherwise.

Days on from the eventful movie night you had with Taehyung, the distance has already caused the memories of the night to go slightly fuzzy. You wonder if it had really even happened, or if you were just overthinking everything as per usual.

And since Taehyung never brought it up, your friendship carrying on in the easy status quo, it was simple enough to chalk it up to your own imagination.

The rush towards Christmas keeps itself up even till Christmas day itself. You’re huffing a little as you squeeze yourself and your grocery bags through the doorway of Taehyung’s apartment. The lopsided feeling of your beanie sitting askew on your head is just one part of your disheveled state right now.

“Tae!” You set the bags down and replace the spare key in its hiding place. “I’m here!”

He comes bursting out of his room and running over to help you with the bags. “Is it time to bake?” His tone is bright and shimmering with anticipation. Baking Christmas cookies with each other’s families was a tradition the two of you grew up with, and a tradition you both intended to keep even while away from your hometown.

Pulling the cookie cutters out of the bag, you wave them with a grin. “Shall we? We still have to prepare dinner after this and make sure we log onto Zoom on time too.”

The afternoon is filled with a flurry of flour and butter and sugar, cookie cutters and oven mitts, and a whole lot of messy icing. You pipe out a beautiful blue and white star, if you do say so yourself, taking pride in the baking skills you’ve honed over the past twenty years. Meanwhile, Taehyung scribbles Yeontan on a star-shaped cookie of his own. He adds this to his collection of alien cookies and rabbits on the moon.

When you’re both done decorating and the icing is left to set, you get to work on dinner. It’s a simple affair, just some mashed potatoes that you set Taehyung to work on, some lightly roasted veggies, and a rotisserie chicken from the supermarket in place of the usual Christmas turkey your families would normally have.

Grabbing plates to serve up your dinner, you can hear the chorus of hellos from the living room as Taehyung sets up his laptop to join the Zoom call. It fills you with a warmth you didn’t know you were missing, the cacophony of noise from your friends still as familiar as it always is even though it’s filtered through the speakers on the laptop. If anything, it may even be more chaotic than ever, with everyone speaking over each other, the social cues becoming even harder to read over the virtual platform.

When you finally enter the room with your two plates, the noise only gets louder, everyone shouting to greet you. You say a quick hi and slip back into the kitchen to get the tray of cookies to show off to the rest over the webcam.

You take your place next to Taehyung, seating yourself next to him in a similar cross-legged position, your knees knocking together as you both squeeze to get into frame together. Memories of the movie night come back to you, but Taehyung seems unfazed. Feigning calmness, you try to focus on the ongoing exchange instead.

The conversation drives itself, years of friendship and months spent apart from each other fuelling the chatter. With small talk on how Christmas day was for everyone, quick catch-ups on how everyone’s doing, inside jokes and references to shared experiences of the past, the atmosphere feels just like that one year you all went on a camping trip together and sat around the bonfire on the final night, swapping stories and jokes in a breezy fashion.

Just as the conversation slips into an easy placidity, Hoseok suggests you all move on to the secret santa bit of the night.

That’s when you gasp. Amidst the manic pace of the day and its activities, you’d forgotten to retrieve your present from where you’d stowed it in your apartment. In the same way that you treated Taehyung’s apartment like your own, so was your apartment to him. Taehyung could walk into your apartment any moment, whether you were present or not, and you needed to find a good secret place for your present. Stashing your prepared present in an unused cupboard in the kitchen, you remember commending yourself for having found such a great hiding spot. Turns out, it was so excellently hidden that even you had forgotten about it till this very moment.

But your internal struggle and the guilt that plagued you went unbeknownst to the rest, each taking turns to open their presents. A whole range of reactions and sound effects went on, Hoseok thanking Taehyung for his gifted sunglasses with such sincerity that transcended the boundaries of the webcam and screen. Yoongi had bought Jin a new fishing reel, and the boys were in the midst of discussing their next fishing trip.

But it was Namjoon’s reaction and the chaos that ensued that truly had you relaxing a little from your anxious-frustrated-guilty state.

“Snacks? And wet wipes?” Namjoon’s expression is incredulous as he pulls the items out of the brown paper bag. “Who’s giving me all these freebies?!”

“FREEBIES?!” Next to Namjoon, Jin smacks the table, causing him to jump. “I’ll have you know that those snacks were selected after careful observation, and I even went so far as to scout out for the specific brand you like and some even required shipping from elsewhere because the grocery stores near us didn’t stock it, and I got you wet wipes because you’re always spilling things, or maybe you could use them after you’re done snacking while on the go, but you still have the AUDACITY to call it FREEBIES?!”

At the sight of Jin gone red in the face, the snickers that the rest of you had been holding in came bursting out.

“Ok, I think we’re the last two to open our gifts,” Taehyung says, reading the room and moving on quickly before Jin could get even more agitated. “____, this is yours from your secret santa.”

Ripping open the wrapping paper swiftly, you find a brown leather-bound journal with your initials embossed on them in gold.

“Oh! This is beautiful,” you gush. “And since we’re the last two, this must be from Jimin!”

Even through the screen, the sight of your friend’s smile, eyes all scrunched up with the sincerity of it, has your heart swelling.

“And that means… that I’m your secret santee!” Taehyung gasps. “No way. And this whole time I was calling you a bad liar.”

He rambles on, explaining to the rest about your sly method of attempting to discreetly ask him what he might like for Christmas. The whole time, you’re chewing on your lip, trying to find the right moment to interject and explain what’s happened.

“Ok! So,” Taehyung finally pauses, looking at you expectantly, “I’m ready for my present!” His hands are cupped and ready to receive the present… that will not make it to him tonight.

You place your hands in his, lowering them gently and taking in his obvious confusion. “I’m so sorry, Tae, I left your present back at home. I promise I’ll bring it over tomorrow! Or you can come over after this to grab it if you want.”

“Oh,” he says, puppy dog pout hitting you full-force with guilt. “But I still want a gift now, so…”

Grasping your hands that are still in his, he tugs you forward into his chest, and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

Silence. Both from your brain, and from everyone around.

It lasts for two seconds -- your group of friends has never found it easy to shut up after all -- and then it’s an eruption, pulling you back to the reality that the two of you are not alone.

You can hear Jungkook screaming, “GROSS!” and Namjoon yelling in confusion. But Jimin’s tinkling laughter, filled with unmistakable joy, cuts through the noise along with a raspily muttered, “It’s about fucking time.” from Yoongi.

In the background, you hear Jungkook asking, “Waaaait, so does this mean that Seokjin has to give Namjoon a kiss now too?” and Jin’s immediate, “NO!”

The noise jump starts your brain back into motion. You attempt to pull away from Taehyung, highly aware that your friends are subject to witnessing all of this, but he tugs you back, anchoring you to him with an arm wrapped firmly around your waist. The laughter from the laptop speakers turns into cries of outrage and then an abrupt return to silence with a click, and you realize that Taehyung must have closed his laptop, ending the Zoom call.

Looping your arms around Taehyung’s shoulders, you begin to respond to his kiss, eyelids fluttering closed. It’s new, it’s electrifying. But it’s also like something deep inside has finally clicked, like you’ve finally arrived. You’re home.

“Did you know?” you ask. “About me having feelings for you?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung admits. Heat rises to your cheeks at that, and you hide your face in his chest. Now that you don’t have to be seated on the floor to be in frame for the Zoom call, the two of you opted to move to the lumpy but still much more comfortable couch.

The gentle strokes of his hand in your hair is familiar and comforting, reminding you of the infinite patience he’s always shown to you. It’s a reminder that this is Taehyung. The boy you grew up with through thick and thin. Your best friend. And that gives you the boldness to continue despite your embarrassment.

“How? And when?”

“Honestly,” he trails off slightly, in thought, “I think it was Samantha who made me realize it.”

A pang of jealousy hits you. But you’re immediately wondering if it’s even warranted, now that you guys are… Well, what exactly are you? You make a mental note to clarify that.

“She was jealous, y’know,” he continues. “Didn’t want to say it at first, and tried to put up with it because she understood that our friendship is not something she could just expect me to give up.

“But it got to a point where things just couldn’t go on any longer. What she initially saw as discomfort that she would learn to overcome with time, soon became an awareness that the two of us were crossing the line of just friends, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time.”

Taehyung sighs, causing you to look at him. He smiles down at you, and skims your cheek with his thumb affectionately. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been here by my side all my life, that it was such a gradual thing and neither of us really realized it.”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “It was only after you began dating her that I realized how not okay with that I was. I thought it was just me being the possessive best friend trying to get used to having to share you. But then I realized I didn’t just want my best friend back. I wanted what she had.”

Swallowing hard, you remember the bitterness of the jealousy you felt back then, and that still recurs from time to time.

“What about you then? How did you come to recognize your feelings?” you ask.

“Samantha made me face up to them.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “One day she laid it all out, about us being more than just friends. And when I denied it, she asked me, would I choose you over her if I were forced into making that decision. The answer very nearly rolled straight off my tongue. And that was when I knew.”

“Is that why you broke up?” you ask. Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you silly girl.” He boops you on the nose. “I’m just thankful that Samantha was as understanding as she was about it. I think that’s why it took me a long time to get over it -- knowing that I’d hurt someone as wonderful as she is with my own blind ignorance.”

“And you too,” he says, leaning down to lay a soft peck on your lips. “I hated knowing that I’d hurt you because of my lack of awareness of my own feelings. That’s why I had to take my time this time around, to make sure that I know for sure.”

“Do you know for sure now?”

“Yes,” he says, holding your gaze with seriousness that has you swimming in its depths. “I’m yours now. Purely and fully.”

When you returned to your apartment the next morning, Irene was waiting to grill you on your whereabouts. It didn’t escape her notice that you hadn’t come back to the apartment the previous night, and she joked about how the vacant rooms in Taehyung’s apartment probably didn’t matter because you could always spend the night sharing his bed anyway.

And when you, blushing madly but holding your own nonetheless, informed her that she was right, well, you should have anticipated her squeals of excitement. “Tell me everything!” she had demanded.

You also should have anticipated the endless teasing that she would put the two of you through, especially in the Christmas season. After a trip out to the stores, finally taking a break from her Lifetime holiday movies marathon, she’d returned with copious amounts of mistletoe to hang all around the apartment, insisting the two of you make up for lost time.

But what Irene doesn’t need to know is just how much the two of you agree with her. Stealing a tiny sprig of mistletoe from around the house -- there’s so much that she wouldn’t even notice anyway -- you pack it into one of the clear baubles you’d bought for Taehyung’s Christmas present, nestling it into the box alongside the other clear baubles that were customized with pictures of the two of you.

[flyonthewallmedstudent]

Re-watching House as a Physician. Pilot Episode. Neurology in the young.

I’d actually recommend this as an exercise.  Re-watching this as a means to motivate studying. It’s truly terrible watching it. So much so, that you want to do it properly or throw shit at the TV. 

If I had students and we couldn’t physically see patients I’d probably tell them what episode to watch and we’d go through the cases together. Go through all the things the team does wrong. Then discuss the things you don’t know yourself.

Because that is actually how you learn best.  Recovering from your mistakes. Identifying gaps in knowledge. 

Unfortunately, all my current students are final years and they do have to see real patients. 

Opening episode: 29 year old female, no past medical history has expressive dysphasia then a first seizure.  How do we know it’s expressive dysphasia?

IN the episode, the patient notices she’s having trouble getting words out, and is able to write. Then has a seizure. Wilson actually has a good introductory statement here. House finds the case boring, this really isn’t boring. If it doesn’t excite a physician it should certainly terrify them. A la house of god, rule number X = Treat the dying young. With urgency. The majority of patients I see in IM are in their 70s-90s, have predictable issues like metabolic syndrome, heart failure, arrhythmias like atrial fibrillation, infections like community acquired pneumonia and dementia. These are my bread and butter. 

More often than not, my primary role is to ensure a dignified end of life care. Many of them come in already at death’s door or will be imminently there. To continue to push them through medical treatment when they no longer have resilience to go through them, is to prolong suffering. 

You can’t predict how someone young will respond even to the most aggressive of treatment. You give them every chance you have. OFten if the young are sick, it’s really bad. With the elderly, a common cold can make them really sick as their body is in decline. 

Young patients with a single organ system issue will usually go to a subspecialty.  Actually any medical subspecialty or IM in general is considered “diagnostic medicine”. It’s just different flavours of it. 

1st seizures: - it’s rare to have a second.  - usually the cause of underlying seizures is infection - follow-up is clinic with neurology. It’s rare to require further.  - we could go into differential seizures, but that’s a whole other post in itself

(Epilepsy only occurs if you have a number of them and this is rare)

In the case of House, they jump straight to cancer like webmd.

Before they do much, she jumps straight to radiation therapy. This is completely unrealistic. This sort of thing requires multidisciplinary teams to pour over all her results and discuss the best way forward. Chemo and radiotherapy are notorious in the general public for having crazy toxicities. For obvious reasons.

It’s weird re-watching these, where medicine is no longer a foreign language. Actually, it’s watching someone for whom English is a new language and they haven’t really gotten it yet. The tense and grammar are all wrong. 

I watched the Queens Gambit - holy fuck is chess a foreign world and language. I know the basics, but none of the strategies. Sicillian sounds like a great name for a tasty pizza. Or something else. 

Anyways, it takes a whole lot of time before they get to differentials. 

Honestly, you would be getting to these the minute you hear the presenting complaint. Then considering how to rule them in and out. For students, always have the surgical sieve in mind. 

Differential diagnosis of expressive dysphasia in a young woman are then addressed in the episode. here’s what they consider: - Aneurysm and stroke (haemorrhagic stroke in this case if we’re talking aneurysm), incidentally most common cause of berry aneurysms is high blood pressure. this is a decent consideration. but you would have seen it on imaging from the start. 

- CJD = very much mad zebra. I wouldn’t even suggest this. You would if it was rapid onset dementia or behvarioural changes and they came from high risk areas (eg ate burgers in the UK in the 1980s and 90s). But rapid meaning weeks to months. Not sudden onset within minutes. It’s more stroke.  - Cncephalopathy: requires an LP to go over this, and she doesn’t present with a fever either. regardless, important to consider. would always consider an LP in addition to imaging.  - Wernicke’s: only consider if they have a nutritional disorder like severe, chronic anorexia (which she doesn’t have) or heavy alcohol use. This is caused by thiamine/VitB1 deficiency. A thiamine level test takes days or weeks. We would never wait for a thiamine test to come back, you’d treat IV thiamine straightaway. I mean it’s vitamin B. This is a terrible differential to consider so near the top. She also doesn’t really have the other symptoms.

Then there’s the more obvious differentials they didn’t bother to consider: The greatest mimic for a stroke particularly in young women is migraine. You can have similar neurology, but it’s often associated with a headache.  If we wanted to chase zebras in the young, you could consider a PFO (holes in the heart that are congenitally there) and thromboemboli causing stroke. (In other words, you develop a clot, normally the lungs will pick up the clot like a filter before it gets to the brain. But the clot can bypass the lungs via holes in the heart and give you a stroke). This is always the consideration in cryptogenic strokes (in which you have a young patient without any reason for having an atheroma causing stroke). Risk factors for thromboemboli can include the oral contraceptive pill (estrogen can be thrombogenic) and then long periods of immobility, think long haul flights or trauma to the long bones or surgery. IN rare cases, those who had particular types of heart surgery as an infant, like a Fontan’s. But this is very niche mind you. And they’re often already on preventative therapy. Infection is a key thing to consider, where there are risk factors. she’s not immunosuppressed or done any exotic travel or eaten raw foods she shouldn’t have eaten (raw pork, bad sushi etc.). It’s a shame they didn’t mention it early. THere’s a few infections that go to the brain but you’d often have these in mind with the risk factors as stated before. THe imaging is often a giveaway

Learning point here - always eat cooked pork! Finally, cancer. But it’d be obvious on imaging if you’d already developed seizures or focal neurology, the lesions would already be large enough to pick up. the sad part to many brain tumours is that they’re already very large by the time of presentation. Beau Biden for instance, presented with acute confusion before his diagnosis, preceding that he had weakness and altered sensation (the lesion was likely too small at the time to be picked up on imaging and was diagnosed as a stroke). 

I would rarely be referred brain tumours, the emergency department will have scanned the brain and seen something that would prompt referral to the neurosurgeons. When you’re young and have a lesion/tumour, any team will try everything, including majority surgery, to salvage what life is left. it is very tragic. 

Anyway, stopping here. Already too much stuff to dissect and unpack from just the first episode alone. Note that I’m in IM, no doubt a neurologist or neurosurgeon will have different opinions on this episode. Ha. 

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track twelve

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indy wondered why people in her life seemed to fixate on sunshine, as if it somehow fixed things. When she and Charlie were small and the sun was out, her parents were ushering them outside to get some fresh air, telling them it was good for them. Her first day of high school, when she was nauseous in the passenger seat at the thought of a new place with a new class schedule, her dad had said ‘at least it’s warm today’. The day of Nicole’s funeral, between the sympathetic smiles and awkward glances, Indy had lost count of the amount of people who commented on the beautiful sunshine outside that her mother wasn’t there to see. It grated on Indiana’s nerves, and she found herself enjoying the rainy days more in the years after her mother’s death, when the clouds were heavy and wet, booming with thunder she could feel shaking her floor. She sat at her windows and watched it fall, watched the world have to shift to accommodate a change in the sky, change in a way that it never did for her when she needed it to. 

The week before Bekah died, it rained every day. 

Monday marked seven days without treatment, and the effects were starting to show. Bekah had lost more weight, which Indy wasn’t even sure was possible. She kept her blankets on her at all times, the Christmas and Halloween ones layers on top of each other. 

She still shivered.

The rain fell outside the window, and Indy sat on the sill, thankful for the cold glass against her arm. It kept her in the moment, kept her mind in the room instead of in Los Angeles, wondering what was going through Grayson’s head that made him continue to ignore her calls. She didn’t have the energy to be pissed at him for leaving her abandoned - instead she was just worried, worried about the guilt she knew would overtake him when she finally was able to get ahold of him. 

Indiana’s schedule was PRN - meaning they only called her into the hospital when she was needed. She couldn’t tell if they actually did need her and were too nice to say, or if they were fully staffed, but they didn’t call her. Patrick had put his foot down with her hours at Jet’s too, and said he’d keep her on payroll as long as he could so she kept her benefits, but that he wasn’t putting her on the schedule either. 

So she put her skills to use for Bekah, and Bekah alone. Anything she needed, Indy knew where to get it on the floor. She funneled every ounce of energy into the girl in front of her, trying to take any of the burden off the Newcombs that she could. If Bekah needed ice chips, she was at the nurses station. In the supply closet to get fresh linens, the laundry to get clean hospital gowns. She helped her get changed, get showered as best she could - it was less mortifying for Bekah to have Indiana help her than her parents, who were nervous enough they would hurt her as it was. 

When Bekah was awake, she was trying. Putting on her brightest smile, doing her best to perk up for her parents and Indiana. But when her parents would leave, which wasn’t often - only to go get fresh clothes, or grab dinner in the cafe - Bekah would deflate. She’d sigh and lean back against her pillows and try to catch her breath. They went home that night to eat a real dinner with promises to bring some back for Bekah, and as soon as they kissed her goodbye, she relaxed back and closed her eyes. Indiana watched her for a moment, and reached out to hold her hand.

“It’s okay Beks. They know you’re tired, you’re allowed to show it.”

“Says you,” she muttered. “Haven’t seen you sleep since I went off meds.”

Indy swallowed. “I sleep when you sleep.”

“Liar.” 

“How do you feel?” She changed the subject.

“Like I’m dying.”

Indy choked, and Bekah laughed dryly. “C’mon, that was a good one. And don’t say it isn’t, cause you know I’m right.” 

It took all of Indy’s strength not to try to coat it all in some toxic positivity, tell her it wasn’t that bad, that she would feel better, that she would get better - the things she’d been telling her all the years she’d known her. 

They weren’t true, and she had to be okay with that.

“I really do think it’ll be this week,” Bekah said, picking at balls of lint on her blanket. 

“Why do you think that?” Indy kept her tone as neutral as she could.

“I feel it. Feels… different. I want to go in my sleep, if I can. Think it’ll be easier for everyone that way. Is there a way to make that happen?” 

Indy put on her hospital smile. “That’s usually how it goes babe, when you let someone go naturally. Your body gets tired, and you sleep, and then you go.”

She pondered on that for a moment, sat with it, and then she nodded, firm and confident.

“Okay. Good. That’ll be good.”

Indy hoped that one day she could have half the bravery of the girl sitting in front of her, with her thin arms and her purple head scarf, her small smile and stern gaze. 

“Can we have milkshakes? And watch some of Grayson’s videos before my parents get back?”

Indy swallowed. “Of course. I’ll go get them, you rest.”

She was glad she could pull strings - the kitchen was usually closed to requests after dinner, but Daniel downstairs was always nice when she called. Sure enough, by the time she’d swiped through all the doors and made it to the kitchen, he had two vanilla milkshakes with extra whipped cream, and sprinkles on Bekah’s. 

“Thanks D!” 

“You’re welcome other D,” Daniel smiled. The hole in Indy’s chest rubbed raw, and she turned quickly before he could think he did something wrong. She breathed, timed her inhales with her steps as she traversed the halls.

It didn’t help, because when she walked into Bekah’s room she heard him.

Only this time, we’re getting sinus surgery

“Ooo, sprinkles!” Beks smiled and reached out a hand, waiting for Indy to pass her the milkshake. 

She did, and she settled next to her on the bed with her own, leaning just far enough back so that Bekah couldn’t see her face.

The videos were always harder. He was still all over her social media, pictures and screenshots and people tagging the two of them on tea pages. He was still in her phone too - the outgoing calls, the photos in her camera roll. But the videos were the worst, because it was him. His mannerisms, his eyebrows that curved when he talked, his tongue that peeked through his smile when he laughed just hard enough. 

She watched anyways, let the ache fester and make her feel something. She stared at his sunburnt nose, and listened to him talk about his once deviated septum that they didn’t actually fix - he still snored loud enough to wake her up some nights. She missed it. 

Bekah laughed at every funny comment the boys made under their anesthesia in the video, and it was music to Indy’s ears, heartwarming enough for her to be able to stomach watching. By 15 minutes in, Bekah had abandoned her milkshake, the whipped cream dissolving down into the ice cream as her head lulled onto Indy’s shoulder and she fell asleep. 

With a shaky hand, Indy checked her pulse. 

Slow, but steady. 

She turned off the TV.

In California, the fight didn’t start until Tuesday night. The house had been full of tension for almost a week, and the usual LA sunshine didn’t help to lighten the mood.

Grayson had become a recluse. He’d fallen back on the earlier method of locking his phone in a box in an attempt to save his sanity, which was even more fragile from the doom scrolling he’d found himself doing as people speculated every single detail of his life online. The black metal cube sat on a table in the living room, and he only saw it on the few occasions that he ventured out to the kitchen for food. 

Even in his limited excursions, he felt the awkward energy radiating from his twin and Eden. They’d had their spats in the past, just like any couple, but there was something different about this one that had Grayson glad he was out of the room when Eden finally cleared her throat and looked at her boyfriend.

“Are we gonna talk about this?”

Ethan picked at a scab on his forearm - he’d been longboarding again as an excuse to get out of the house. 

“Talk about what?”

“Talk about why we aren’t talking,” she huffed. “You’re mad at me.” 

“Correct,” Ethan said. 

“Tell me why then.”

He looked at her incredulously. “You have to ask?” 

Eden swallowed down her anger, knowing it wouldn’t help anything. She waited. They sat in stalemate for a moment and she watched it boil up in Ethan before he sighed and turned in his chair towards her.

“Being hateful to me when you’re upset is one thing, because I signed up for that. But to my brother? When he’s doing pretty much as bad as I’ve ever seen him? Not okay. At all.” 

“Ethan-”

“And I’m all for the tough love approach or whatever, but that was fucked up. He was just starting to do a little bit better and now look at him.” 

“Better? You thought that was better?” 

“He was eating at least, and still trying to work a little bit. Now, he’s barely able to do the podcast, much less anything else.”

“You all were already going to cut the main channel, that’s not because of this,” she argued.

“I’m talking everything else Eden. The businesses. Figuring out what the fuck we’re gonna do. He said the other day we could split time between here and Jersey, which really means here and New York if we only do the podcast.”

“And he didn’t think of that as an option before he broke up with Indiana? Makes sense.”

Ethan ignored her and kept going.

“At least he’s thinking about the future, which is better than before. I need him. But I need him, and you yelling at him set him back to square one.”

“If you thought he was even close to out of square one you’re blind.”

“Don’t act like you know my fucking twin better than I do,” Ethan snapped, and if it wasn’t for the protective nature in his tone, Eden would have lost it. 

“Ethan.” She waited until he looked up at her, and she saw some of the anger leave his eyes when they met her. “He wasn’t getting better, because he was holding on. Fuck, he still is!”

“Telling him to let go isn’t going to make him let go! Have you met him? He’s the most stubborn fucking person on the face of this fucking earth! He already wants to go back, he’s not gonna let go!”

She could think of one person that could rival him for the title, but she kept it to herself. 

“He’ll do it if he thinks he’s doing it for her,” Eden explained. “Don’t you see that? That’s why he did all of this. In his head, somehow, he thinks he’s doing what’s best for Indy. But he fucked her over, royally.”

“He knows that,” Ethan said. 

“Okay, great! But he has to let go of her, because she won’t. Indy is an optimist if I’ve ever fucking met one, and she will always hope that he’s gonna come back, so he can’t do anything to feed into it. That’s torture, for both of them. And they both deserve better than that.”

Ethan couldn’t find a grip hold for an argument - one of the many reasons he hated arguing with Eden. So he sat in silence for a moment and accepted his defeat.

“You didn’t have to call him a moron,” he added.

“Anyone who let’s Indiana Cross slip through their fingers is a moron,” she muttered, shoulders relaxing as she realized the fight was over. “But yeah, that was probably a little harsh. I’ll apologize for that one.” She sighed, glad that everything was out on the table for the time being, smiling when Ethan patted his thigh once for her to sit on. She climbed up and nuzzled into his neck - she’d missed being so close to him the last few days. She soaked in the moment, running her fingers over the neck of his henley. 

“Is it weird that I miss her? I mean, I know I haven’t known her very long, but she really felt like part of the family.”

“I miss her too,” Ethan sighed, pressing a kiss to Eden’s temple. 

She pondered her apology to Grayson as she relaxed into his arms, but it was futile.

Grayson had been listening, standing in the hallway outside his door.  

There were no tears; just an overwhelming numbness that had settled over him in the last few days. Eden’s words were the final nail in the coffin - he couldn’t reach out to Indy, though it got more and more tempting each day. He’d promised not to hurt her more than he already had, and he was going to stick to his word. Someone important had taught him that. 

He retreated to his room and sat on the edge of the bed before he spoke. 

“Hey dad.” 

He always waited, just for a moment. Just in case. The silence was always loud, but it was deafening as he curled in on himself, staring down at the grains of wood in the floor.

“Dad I think I really fucked up this time,” he whispered. He willed the tears, but they didn’t come, though his eyes still burned. “I wish you were here. I wish you could have met her.” 

As he sat, he remembered what his dad had said in those last few days, in the few hours that he was awake, when he fought off the pain and the fatigue to be there for his kids and his wife. I’ll always be there, you can always talk to me. Just say whatever you would if I was right there beside you, cause I will be.

So he did. He spoke as if he could feel the weight of his dad on the bed beside him, feel his arm around his shoulder. 

Grayson sat on the edge of his bed and told Sean everything about the girl that he still loved. Her intelligence, her laugh, her smile, the way he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love someone else. He lost track of how long he talked, run on sentences and gestures that only made it more obvious that his dad wasn’t there to tell him to slow down and take a breath before he talked himself into a pump from his inhaler. When he ran out of words, he did the only thing he knew to do when all else went wrong; turned his shower on as hot as he could stand it, sat down on the bench so the water ran over him, and thought of Indy. 

The storm rolled into the city on Wednesday - unprecedented and angry, snarling the clouds in swirls of dark, heavy gray and dumping down over the skyscrapers of New York. 

Indiana was watching the monitors. Her eyes jumped with each pulse of Bekah’s heart, which was beating faster than her usual. Her blood pressure was low, her breathing more irregular. Indy could see the textbook page in her head - actively dying. She’d learned the vital signs to look for, and how to fix them, what medicines to push. 

But she wasn’t supposed to be making Bekah better, and that was the hardest part.

Thunder shook the room, and Bekah shivered. Mrs. Newcomb wrung her hands, and her husband ran a hand along her shoulders. 

“She hasn’t woken up all day,” she murmured. 

“She’s resting baby, it’s okay.” 

Bekah’s monitors began to beep a bit faster. Her heart rate slowly rose - 82, then 85, then 90. Indy watched, her nerves prickling, eyes darting to the clipboard at the end of her bed, with DNR in bright red block letters - do not resuscitate. Bekah whimpered, her head turning into her pillow as her breathing got quicker, her heart working in overtime to try to keep her body afloat.

Mrs. Newcomb rushed to her daughter’s side, running a hand over her cheek as she began to cry.

“Bekah, sweetheart breathe, just breathe baby, don’t go yet, don’t go,” she pleaded, and Indy bit back her cries. Two nurses showed up in the doorway, waiting. There was nothing they could do but watch, and answer questions if they were asked.

Bekah’s father turned to the corner.

“Indiana, Indiana what’s happening to my baby?” He cried. It was enough to break Indy out of her trance, and she moved over to the bedside, resting a hand on Bekah’s leg. 

“Her body is trying to decide what to do. It’s tired, and with her blood pressure going down, her heart is work harder to move her blood around. That’s why it’s faster,” she explained. “She’s not in pain right now, her medicine should still be working. It probably just feels a bit scary.” 

Mr. Newcomb took her hand, and squeezed. Indy looked back to the monitors, unable to bear looking down at Bekah. She watched the blips on the monitor start to regulate again, sinus rhythm reappearing, allowing both of them to breathe easier. Bekah groaned a bit and settled into her covers, and a broken sob made its way out of Mrs. Newcomb’s throat. 

“I need a minute,” she said, and then she was headed for the door with a hand over her mouth. It was the second time she was sick that day. Mr. Newcomb took her to the cafeteria to get a Sprite, and Indy took her usual spot, perched on the edge of Bekah’s bed. She took her hand, tensing a bit with how cold it was. She rubbed it, bringing it up to her lips to blow warmth into her palm as best she could.

Bekah stirred, and her eyes opened for the first time in many hours.

“Hey,” Indy said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

“What was all that noise?” Bekah’s voice was croaky, but she shook her head when Indy offered her a drink of water.

“Your monitors. They’re loud aren’t they?”

“Yeah. Annoying as hell,” she mumbled, then opened her eyes a bit wider, scanning the room for her mother. 

“Language,” Indy teased. 

“Why were they going off?” 

It took all of Indy’s strength not to lie.

“Your heart rate picked up because your blood pressure went down. That’s something that happens…”

“Oh. It means it’s getting close isn’t it.”

Indy nodded and squeezed her hand. Bekah took a moment to process, and then she turned her head back to her friend.

“Is Grayson here yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Well, he better come soon if he wants to see me. Tell him to hurry, since I’m dying and shit.”

“Language,” Indy whispered it so her voice didn’t crack. Bekah played with the edge of her blanket.

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“There’s no right or wrong way to be right now Beks. You just do what you need and feel how you feel, and we’ll be here the whole time, okay? We’re right here.” 

“You need to not be here,” Bekah said, and Indy’s breath caught in her throat. 

“Oh.”

“You need sleep, and a shower. I won’t die while you’re gone if I can help it. Promise.” She wrapped her pinky around Indy’s as best she could.

Before she could refuse, the Newcombs appeared back through the door, delighted to see their daughter awake. She sat up a bit straighter in bed and put on her best smile, Indy’s heart tightening at the sight. 

“Go,” Bekah whispered through her smile. She squeezed her hand one more time, and then let go, walking up to Mrs. Newcomb.

“I’m gonna go get freshened up and grab some clean clothes, but will you text me if anything changes? I live right down the street, so I can be back here really quick,” she explained, trying to ignore the growing look of pity in her eyes. 

“Of course dear. But you go home for the night, we’ll be alright. I’ll call you if anything changes, you need your rest. You’ve been here so long, have a night of normalcy at home and come back fresh tomorrow, okay?”

Indy nodded - it was all she could do. She blew Bekah a kiss and walked out the door, pausing when she noticed something had changed. 

A small blue heart had been placed by her room number - a signal that made Indy’s heart sink. Bekah was officially dying, and it was there for every nurse and visitor on the unit to see, to signify they needed to respect privacy and be quiet when they were close by. 

It made no sense, for that to be her breaking point. She’d known. She’d seen it, in her vitals and her demeanor and the fact that just their conversation was enough to have her ready to sleep for another 8 hours. 

But that little blue heart was her undoing, and she clutched her chest for the entire walk out of the hospital, down the stairs and out into the pouring rain. The thought of her empty apartment, with no Grayson and no Charlie and no Devin was too much - instead, she found herself running down the sidewalk past the lobby to the parking garage, shoes sloshing with water by the time she made it under the concrete. 

The valet didn’t ask questions when she passed over her key, shivering as she waited for him to bring her car out. As soon as she climbed in she hit the gas, ready to drive somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t her home. The road was blurry despite the rapid back and forth of her windshield wipers, but she trudged on, just coherent enough to keep her tires between the white lines as she fled the city. The river was swollen when she drove over the bridge into Jersey, and she let herself zone out, let her mind take her wherever it wanted to go. 

She knew where she would end up.

The crunch of gravel was familiar under her tires when she turned off the winding road. It was a comforting sound, though it was muffled by the rain, and it wasn’t until she was close enough to the white house to see that the kitchen light was on that she realized what she was doing.

She put the car in park, ready to shift it to reverse until a small figure appeared on the front porch, waving her inside. 

Her earlier words rang in her ears. My door is always open.

She hoped it was true as she flung her car door open and bolted for the protection of the porch. 

Lisa was waiting for her, standing in her pajamas with worry written all over her face.

“Indiana? Sweetheart, are you okay?”

All Indy could do was sob. She hated it, and the voice in her head berated her over and over, reminded her she had no place there anymore, that she was putting Lisa in a terrible position. But the feeling of a mother’s arms around her wasn’t something she could fight against, and she crumpled into her and let herself be held. 

“Shhh. Shhh, you’re okay,” she hummed, running a hand over Indy’s blonde hair that was soaking wet. “Let’s get you inside and get warmed up.”

Indy let herself be led in, shoulders relaxing a bit at the familiarity of where she was until she spotted Grayson’s work boots in the corner and recoiled back. Lisa sat her down in a chair in the kitchen and squatted down until they were eye level.

“Are you hurt?”

Indy shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Is everything okay?” Her tone gave away that she already knew the answer, but Indy shook her head again anyways. Lisa patted her leg and sighed quietly, reaching up to brush some of her hair back.

“Does Grayson know you’re here?”

The squeak that escaped Indy’s lips was the only warning before she let out a sob so loud that Gizmo yelled in shock. 

“I’m s-s-s-orry,” she choked, crumpling with her face in her hands.

“No, no no shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. It’s alright, you’re okay.” Lisa pulled her to her as best she could, rocking just barely as she held her. 

“No, I shouldn’t have come, I don’t want to make things difficult for you with - him.” Indy couldn’t get herself to say his name and Lisa just shook her head. 

“Babe I told you that I would be here for you no matter what, and I meant it, okay? I won’t tell him you’re here unless I need to. You can stay as long as you need, you hear me?” She used her thumbs to wipe at Indy’s tears, frowning at the dark circles she found.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

Indy’s silence was enough. 

“Well, it’s late, and I think sleep is the first thing you need. We can talk tomorrow, but right now, you go up and climb into bed okay? They’re all made up, you can sleep wherever you’d like. Do you need anything, or do you remember where everything is.”

“I remember,” Indy whispered, taking in a shaky breath. “Thank you Li.”

“Of course. You’re a part of this family, always. Now, get some rest. You know where I am if you need me.”

She kissed her forehead and disappeared up the stairs. Indy wasn’t sure how long it took to get herself together and muster the energy to climb those same stairs, take a left into the room she’d been in so many times before. 

It still smelled a bit like him, and she couldn’t help but to take a few deep breaths, closing her eyes and pretending he was right there, sprawled out in bed with the blanket held up for her like the first time she’d slept over. It was the same blanket when she opened her eyes again, and the thought of climbing into it without him waiting for her made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t look at the bed any longer, so she turned to the closet, sighing when she saw all the warm clothes that were far too much fabric for LA, even in the winter. It was almost unconscious, the way she found herself in front of his shirts, running her fingers over the various fabric until she landed on a familiar flannel. Checkered, with blue, white and black squares. Thick and warm, he’d worn it once when they went out to check on the progress of the tiny homes, and she’d woven her arms underneath it when she reached around him to hold on as he drove them through the trees. 

Before she could stop herself, she snatched it off the hanger and pushed her arms through the sleeves, eyes prickling at the realization that she felt close to him for the first time in weeks, yet he was still so far away. She retreated back to the bedroom, grabbing one of the pillows and carrying it downstairs, all the way to the couch in the living room. The blankets were still in the basket in the corner, and she grabbed her favorite one before she curled up under it on the cold leather, pulling the flannel fabric up around her chin and closing her eyes. 

In the kitchen, Gizmo turned on her perch and cocked her head.

“Dee,” she said, but Indiana was already asleep.

It was the best sleep she had in weeks - the peace of knowing that she wasn’t truly alone enough for her body to force her to catch up. Lisa was surprised to see her still curled up on the couch at 9:30 the next morning when she got ready for work as the rain continued outside. She watched her sleep for a few moments, heart tight at the way her eyebrows were still furrowed and her face buried in the collar of a shirt she was sure was her son’s. 

She didn’t know the details, but she knew Grayson well enough to put together the pieces. But she also knew he wouldn’t let Indiana suffer this much if he truly knew how she was doing. It had to be bad if Indiana even considered coming out to the house, and it gave Lisa a level of mom anxiety she hadn’t had since the boys had picked up longboarding again. She wondered how he’d let it go on so long in the first place, and after a moment of debating, she scribbled down a note for Indy, went out to her car as quietly as she could, and called her son. 

His phone sent her straight to voicemail. She tried again. Voicemail. With the third dial tone she couldn’t help the pit that grew in her stomach, an automatic mom reflex when your child is unreachable. 

Instead, she called Ethan. It rang four times and then she heard a muffled groan and rustling before his voice came through the line.

“Ma, it’s 6:30 in the morning,” he grumbled, voice raspy and dry. “You okay?”

“Why isn’t your brother answering his phone? Are you two okay?”

Ethan sighed, annoyed. “He’s fine Mom, he’s just doing a detox from his phone. People were being shitty. He’s asleep down the hall, not dead in a ditch somewhere,” Ethan chuckled. Lisa wasn’t amused.

“Well, wake him up and un-detox him. He needs to call Indiana. Now.” 

Ethan sat up in bed.

“Indy? Why, what’s wrong?”

“That’s for him to figure out. All I know is, she’s not doing well and he needs to call her. Now.” 

“What happened?”

“Just make sure he calls her, alright? I’ve gotta get to work, I love you.”

“Alright, love you too.”

As soon as he hung up, he was on his feet, rushing down the hallway and throwing Grayson’s door open. He ran to the edge of his bed, shaking his shoulder until he groaned and opened his eyes. 

“The fuck do you want,” he grumbled.

“You need to call Indiana, I just got off the phone with Ma. Something’s wrong.”

Grayson felt sick. 

“What happened? Is she safe, is she okay?”

“I don’t know, you just need to call her.”

“You don’t know? You don’t know? The fuck do you mean you don’t know Ethan?” Grayson was yelling, but he was on his feet as he spoke, headed down the hallway in search of the lock box. He rummaged through the kitchen drawer until he found the key, hands so shaky it took three tries to unlock the metal contraption. 

His phone was dead when he pulled it out, and it took all his willpower to keep from chucking it at the glass doors.

“Yours, give me yours.”

Ethan was a step ahead of him, already having Indiana’s contact pulled up. Grayson snatched it and hit the call button, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for her to answer.

Indy woke up to the buzzing of her phone against her arm where she’d tucked it the night before. Her eyes flew open - it must be Mrs. Newcomb, calling to tell her that Bekah had gotten worse. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes until she could read the name on her screen.

Ethan.

Her heart sank. She’d thought to call him more times than she wanted to admit, but she figured calling your ex's twin when said ex didn’t want to talk to you was crossing some moral line. Though as she sat on his mother’s couch, she figured it was time to get over the morals and do what she needed to do.

She swiped to answer. 

“Dee? Are you okay? Are you safe?”

She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened and closed again as she tried to find something to say to the only person she’d wanted to talk to in almost three weeks. She hadn’t had time to prep herself, to give her heart a warning.

“Baby talk to me, tell me you’re okay,” he pleaded, and the pain in his voice was enough to snap her out of it. 

“Grayson?” was all she could say.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“No, no I’m okay, I’m fine.”

Grayson took a breath for the first time since she picked up the phone. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to say, the panic dissipating and leaving his brain blank. Luckily, she spoke.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said. 

“I know. Indiana I’m sor-”

“It’s Beks.” 

His heart skipped a beat, and the silence rang in his ears as he clutched onto the back of the couch. Ethan, who had been eavesdropping from the kitchen, moved closer. Grayson waited for her to speak, to say it so he didn’t have to ask. 

“Is she-”

“No.” Indy’s voice broke. “But…”

“Oh god. Fuck. Fuck Indy.” His knees wobbled beneath him. 

“She isn’t in any pain, we’ve been keeping her comfortable. But it’s probably gonna be in the next few days,” she whispered between sniffles, her voice squeaky and small as she fought to get the words out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to tell you over the phone but... “ she trailed off. “She asked when you were coming to see her, and I didn’t know what to say.”

The tears were burning as they slid down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting the imagery of Bekah in her hospital bed, calling out for him.

“Indy-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say so I just said you’d be there soon. If you can’t come she probably won’t remember, but I just wanted you to know, in case you wanted to be here. To see her, before…”

“I’m coming. I’ll be right there okay? I’m going to the airport now, I’ll be right there.” 

Indy was silent for a moment, her eyes flickering to the rain outside. 

“Fly safe. It’s storming here.”

“I will. I’ll see you soon okay? Just hold on, I’ll be there.” 

“Okay.”

That sat in silence for a moment until Indiana finally hung up.

“I’m going with you,” Ethan said. He didn’t need context - all he knew is his brother needed him. Grayson nodded once, passed him his phone and headed straight for his room. He packed blindly, throwing things into his suitcase without bothering to fold them, just desperate to get on the road to the airport and get back to New York. Ethan was two steps behind him when he finally made it to the door, his phone pressed to his ear as he tried to explain the situation as best he could to a very worried Eden. Grayson loaded the bags as Ethan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving the charger open for Grayson’s still dead phone. Ethan practically peeled out of the driveway towards LAX, the cab filled with silence apart from the hum of the engine and the quiet sniffles from Gray when his phone turned back on and he saw all the missed texts and calls from Indiana who had been trying so desperately to reach him. The guilt made him queasy, and Ethan’s driving didn’t help as he hopped lanes and sped on, praying no cops were on the road. 

Grayson’s knee bounced impatiently as they waited in the line for parking, paying an astronomical amount seeing that they didn’t know when they would be back. Then they were running, dragging their bags behind them on the asphalt and beelining for the front desk. The attendants eyes went wide when they requested the next flight to New York at the exact same time. It wasn’t taking off for three more hours, much to their dismay, but they accepted it and headed towards security with their heads low and phones in hand.

The next flight doesn’t leave until around 10 but we’ll be on it. I’m sorry.

He watched the bubbles appear and disappear three times over, and then her response came.

nothing to be sorry for. I’m back at the hospital with her, she’s resting. I’ll keep you updated. the storm is still really bad here, please be careful

He wished he could reach out and hold her hand, ease her anxiety about his flight. He couldn’t imagine the emotion of that on top of everything else, so he said all he could think to.

I’ll be safe, and I’ll be there soon. 

He typed I love you and deleted it before he sent it. 

And then, it was a waiting game. The boys kept their hoods up and their heads down in hopes they wouldn’t be recognized. It seemed the universe was in their favor for the time being, no one bothering them while they waited, but it took a turn when their flight was delayed for weather not once, but twice, pushing their departure time to 2pm instead. He apologized again, agonizing over the thought of Indy sitting in the hospital by herself, but her response was the same.

she’s still resting, it’s okay. just be safe.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Ethan tried to reassure him, but he knew it was futile.

“I should have been there. I should have never left her in the first place Ethan, I’m an idiot.”

“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen. You told me she was getting better.”

He thought his brother was still talking about Bekah, and the queasiness returned. 

“She was.” 

They sat in silence as the hours crawled by. Ethan bought them lunch from a vegan salad shop down the terminal, even got his brother one of the protein coffee drinks he liked. Grayson picked at the lettuce and left it abandoned for his twin to finish. His only solace was his headphones that he kept pressed far into his ears with a constant stream of Cudi to keep him sane. After what felt like an eternity, they called for boarding. He texted her again to let her know he was on his way, and in a cruel play of the universe or whatever it was, Teleport 2 Me Jamie began to play. 

His eyes were blurry as he followed Ethan to their seats, climbing in by the window and readjusting his hood so it folded around his face as much as it could, hiding. Ethan leaned forward and acted like he was reading the SkyMagazine he found in the back of his seat, shielding his brother from view as best he could. 

They’d been on a flight like this before. January of 2019 - it had been raining that day too, but they had both been crying that day. So he stayed strong for his brother as best he could, got him a gingerale when the flight attendant passed by, and left Grayson alone. 

Indy wished someone would talk to her. She wished Bekah would wake up again - it had been hours of silence apart from the beeps of her monitor and the footsteps of the nurses outside the door. It was never truly silent in a hospital after all. But she was glad that she slept despite the loneliness. She hoped it would mean that she had energy for when Grayson made it to the hospital.

Grayson.

Her brain didn’t have the space to process that he would be there in the next six hours. His text that said he had boarded barely even registered in her mind, but her body was aware. Her anxiety picked up ten fold, her leg bouncing until it cramped, her lungs tight and fingernails bit down to the nail beds. The rain was relentless, as if the city were drowning already and it decided to add more for the fun of it, to watch the humans run around like ants in their multicolored raincoats. The universe was sick that way. 

Mr. Newcomb returned from the nurses station where he’d insisted on dropping off some cookies he’d bought at the store. He was quiet as he came into the room, eyes on his daughter until he finally peeled them away to look at Indy. 

“Do you think she’ll be asleep a little while longer? We were hoping to take some of her clothes home and wash them, so she has her choice from all her favorites for the next few days.”

“I think so. My… friend is coming later. Her other buddy, from the program. We’ll keep her company if you guys need to eat and get some sleep for a few hours. I can text you if anything changes.”

“I’ll see if I can convince Martina to get some shut eye I will,” he laughed, giving Indy a grateful smile and taking one more glance at his girl before he gathered her laundry and left. It only hit Indiana when he stepped out that she had never known Martina’s name until then. Bekah’s father was named Tarin, she knew that much. But she’d never even gotten to a first name basis with Martina. In all the years they’d known each other, and all the hours in hospital rooms and tears shared, she’d never been anything but Bekah’s mom to Indy. It wasn’t uncommon for Indiana to keep mom’s at an arm’s length from her. A protective mechanism she’d never consciously implemented, but it prevailed nonetheless. 

She wondered if Bekah would have wanted to be a mom someday. When she was 13 she’d insisted that men were trash and that she’d never get married even if she made it through all her cancer, but as she’d gotten a bit older she loved to talk about all her celebrity crushes. Indy looked in her side drawer and smiled when she found the little picture of Harry Styles she’d given her during her last round of treatment - she’d taken it with her to every room since. 

Indy paced the room, her anxiety to high to allow her to sit. She thought of Grayson on a plane somewhere, the metal tube rocking in the sky, cutting through the clouds. When she would get to the window she’d look up, hoping to see the lights from the wing of a plane somewhere, hoping it was his and that it was coming down safely. 

She paced for two more hours before her phone buzzed. 

Landed. I should be there in about 40. She still asleep?

Indy took in her first deep breath in hours.

yeah, she’s still out. I’ll meet you in the ocean hallway so you don’t have to buzz in, just text me when you’re close.

Will do.

Ma is picking us up so as soon as we get out we’ll head straight there

Ethan is with me but he’s just gonna go home with her for now

sounds good 

She didn’t have much to say, her stomach fluttering against her will. Her emotions were too unbalanced for her to even know what was happening. Excitement, and fear and grief and anxiety and anger and confusion, all at once somehow. She wrapped her arms around herself to try to hold it together and went back to pacing.

Grayson was soaked by the time he made it into Lisa’s car, scurrying into the backseat and barking out directions harsher than he meant to.

“I already have it in the GPS. Calm down,” Lisa said, giving Ethan a side eye in the passenger seat. 

“Sorry,” Grayson muttered, ringing his hands.

“S’alright babe,” Lisa sighed, reaching an arm back to pat his leg where she could reach. They drove in silence, listening to the rain smack against the roof and the windshield until Ethan spoke up.

“Did Indy call you? Is that how you knew something was wrong?” He asked Lisa. He hadn’t said anything, but he was worried too. 

Lisa debated it for a moment, and then she sighed. 

“She was upset, and she needed to get in touch with Grayson,” was all she said. “The rest of it, she can tell you.”

Gray didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. Every ounce he had was involved in the visuals flipping through his mind like a viewfinder; Indy in the ocean hallway, Bekah and her halloween blanket, the tiny homes, Indy’s tears in the airport. He hadn’t imagined that the next time he saw her would be like this. He wanted it to be different. Better. He wanted everything to be better. 

When they finally made it to the hospital, Lisa pulled to the curb and turned to her youngest son with a serious look.

“You take care of her, but you take care of you too, okay? I love you.”

Grayson’s nose burned and he nodded once before he ducked out into the rain. 

Indy stopped walking, and breathing, when her phone buzzed again. 

Here. Omw up

She liked the message, fixed Bekah’s blankets and headed out into the hallway and through the doors. The smiles of the marine life were haunting as she waited for any sign that he was close. 

Her head whipped up when she heard the familiar clammer of the far doors being pushed open.

He was wearing his yellow Cudi hoodie, but it was the wrong color. The fabric was darker than she remembered, darker than the picture she had of him in it, the one she’d taken in Jet’s once. It didn’t process that it was because it was wet until he was halfway down the hall. His hair was a bit longer than it had been, without Lisa there to trim it up. And his beard was full and scruffy and dark, hiding away his jaw line. She could still tell that his teeth were clenched though, his nerves palpable as he got closer and closer to her.

His shoe squeaked when he stopped in front of her. Neither of them breathed for a moment. They just stared at each other. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets to keep himself from hugging her, from crossing a boundary that he wished he’d never set. 

“Hi,” he said. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Hey. How was your flight?”

“Long, but not too bumpy.”

Another painful beat of silence.

“How is she?”

“She’s still asleep, but we can wake her up. Meds are coming soon, just stuff to keep her comfortable. Her vitals are still okay, she’s just a bit groggy. But she’s excited to see you.” Indy offered him a small smile, and it had his knees ready to give out beneath him.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asked. 

Indy’s smile faded, and she looked at the jellyfish.

“That doesn’t matter right now. C’mon, let’s go see her.”

Indy used her badge to swipe into the door, but Grayson’s throat was too tight to ask her about it. Instead he just followed her down the familiar hallway, trying to avoid the looks of pity from the nurses who recognized him. 

Indy caught his wrist before he walked into the room.

“I didn’t… she doesn’t know about… us. I didn’t want to upset her, and it never really came up. I’m sorry,” she whispered. She sounded ashamed, but all Grayson could focus on was the feeling of her hand on his skin again, even if it was just a few fingers.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Indy walked into the room, the most hesitant that Grayson had ever seen her.

Beks looked cold. Even cuddled under her blankets she looked like she was freezing, and Grayson had trouble breathing. Indy went to the side of her bed, ran her thumb across her cheek and over to her shoulder where she squeezed gently.

“Beks, hey. Bekah,” she used her most gentle voice until the youngster stirred. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Grayson pulled it together in the last moment before Bekah opened her eyes.

“Earrings,” she sighed, a small smile on her lips. It was the most expression Indy had seen all day. “You made it.”

“Of course I did sweet girl,” he chuckled to hide his pain, moving beside Indy and crouching down so Bekah could see him easier. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“S’okay. We all know you’re slow,” she teased. “Hey, no tears. No crying in Bekah’s room.”

He hadn’t even realized he was until she said it, and he used his hoodie to wipe his eyes.

“Sorry Beks. Just missed you is all.”

“Yeah, well we missed you too. Did you convince my parents to go home?”

“Yeah,” Indy answered. “They’re getting some rest and bringing you some clean clothes.”

“Mmm, good. I think that black hoodie is a good one to die in,” she said, body shaking just barely with a laugh that turned into a cough.

“Pardon the death jokes, you’ll get used to them,” Bekah smiled at Grayson and the shock on his face once her throat cleared enough.

He thought of Sean, how he had pretended everything was fine until the very end, and he smiled. 

“Don’t you think a black death hoodie is a little on the nose?” He said, and Bekah laughed. It sounded the most like her real one since she’d been off her treatment, and it warmed Indy’s soul.

“Fair point. Maybe I should go with blue. You think someone will let me into heaven if I’m in blue or will I just blend in with the sky?”

“I don’t think anyone has to let you in,” Indy said with a laugh, crouching down next to Grayson. Their knees bumped together. “Pretty sure you just end up there.”

“I hope so. There’s no one there to find me anyways.” The playful edge was gone from her voice, and Grayson frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the first one. I mean, I guess my grandma is up there but I never knew her. Everybody always talks about how their family will be there, when they go.” She paused, taking a few deep breaths to get her energy back. She hadn’t talked so much in days, and her heart rate was rising from the exertion of it. The pair waited patiently, giving her the time she needed to finish her thought. 

“I don’t have anyone to die for, anybody waiting on me. I gotta find my way in there alone.”

The innocence of it was enough to rip Indy’s heart in half, and she couldn’t find the comforting words that she wanted to give. But Grayson cleared his throat.

“You won’t be alone. I know of at least two people who will be right there waiting for you.”

She perked up a bit, eyes opening wider from where they’d started to close. “Really?”

“Yeah. My dad. He looks kinda like me, but shorter, with a better beard. His name is Sean.”

Bekah smiled. “Whose the other one?”

“A tall blonde lady named Nicole. Indy’s mom. Looks just like her, you won’t be able to miss her. They’ll help you, and keep you safe.” The sincerity in his voice was enough for Indy to realize he desperately wanted it to be true. She turned her head to hide her tears, clinging onto the bed rail to keep herself steady. 

“That sounds nice,” Bekah breathed, her eyes slowly closing. “You all want me to tell them anything, when I get there?”

It was Grayson’s turn to lose his voice.

“No babe. We can tell them when we get up there.” Indy answered after a moment too long.

“That better not be for a long time. I gotta have some entertainment. Watch you all grow up and get married and have kids. You better name one after me too,” she sighed, her voice getting quieter as her heart sped up. 

“You bet,” Grayson said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead as her breathing slowed and evened out again. It was slower than it should be, and Grayson realized his own breathing was fast… too fast. He brought a hand to his chest, then his other to cover his mouth and keep himself quiet.

“Shh, shhh hey, you’re okay, here, c’mon, you’re okay.” Indy’s voice was in his ear, her arms under his to try and guide him up to his feet, then out to the hallway. She held his arm and pulled him over into a supply closet that she swiped into, letting the door shut behind them.

“Breathe Grayson. It’s okay, just breathe.”

He fell to pieces in her arms, his back curled painfully so he could bury his face in the crook of her neck and sob. They were ugly sounds, wet and snotty and raw and she didn’t care. She just held him together as best she could with her small hands, let him relax into her and get it out of his system. His shoulders stilled eventually, but his arms stayed locked around her like a vice.

Neither of them moved until the motion sensor light clicked off, covering them in darkness. 

They didn’t speak. They untangled themselves and let the light turn back on before they headed back into the hallway as if nothing had happened, back into Bekahs room. Her heart rate was perpetually high now, fighting to keep the blood pumping.

Another sign that the end was coming soon. 

Indiana and Grayson sat down on the couch beside each other, just close enough for their shoulders to graze occasionally when they shifted. Indy watched the monitors and Grayson watched her, reading her expressions as best he could over what felt like an eternity. He looked at all the things he’d missed - the freckle by her ear, and the baby hairs that sat by her temple and never seemed to grow. 

It could have been minutes, or hours. No one was sure. But eventually Indy’s posture slumped slightly, and with a final sigh she leaned over to the left, her head resting on Grayson’s shoulder. 

He stopped breathing, only allowing himself shallow inhales that left his torso perfectly still so she could rest. He didn’t know how to feel, and against his will his eyes prickled at the realization that despite the fucked up situation they were in, she was there, leaned against him. Beside him. Something he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get ever again. The way she shifted and mumbled in her sleep let him know she wasn’t comfortable, but he let himself be selfish for a few minutes and soothed her back down so she stayed, relished in the weight of her on him and resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders. 

He moved as carefully as he ever had to press a tiny kiss to her hair.

She sighed and settled down further in her seat, moving her head onto the back of the couch and freeing him. 

The angle of her neck looked painful, and he scanned the room, noticing that they’d brought in two recliners, presumably for her parents. He stood up carefully and dragged the chairs away from the wall, lining them up like he had in his dad’s room. He hunted down a few extra pillows from the nurses, blankets too, and brought them in, making little makeshift beds for the two of them. 

He felt guilt waking Indy up, but he didn’t want to pick her up without permission. Instead, he shook her shoulder gently until she stirred, panicking for a moment until she realized everything was okay. Her heart fluttered at the realization that Grayson was still there. 

“Sleep over here, it’ll save your neck.” He nodded towards the chair and she stood up slowly, groggily moving over into one of them. She sighed as she settled in, exhaustion taking over. Grayson liked to think that she felt peaceful enough, safe enough to sleep because he was there, but he didn’t let himself believe it. So he simply moved her blanket up over her torso before he climbed into his own chair that faced the other way so they could see each other. 

He watched her sleep for a moment, and then her hand moved just far enough down the arm rest. She wiggled her fingers until he got the message, slipping his hand into hers before he too fell asleep. 

When they awoke the next morning, their hands were still intertwined, and Bekah’s parents were coming in the doorway. Indy woke up first, sitting up straight and squeezing Grayson’s hand.

“Grayson. Gray, hey, wake up.”

He grumbled until he was able to open his eyes, wiping his mouth with his hoodie sleeve as he came to and realized where he was. He was quick to stand, to introduce himself to Bekah’s parents with firm handshakes. His hair was a mess, and Indy bit her fingernails to keep from reaching out to smooth it out. 

The day went by, measured by the heart rate monitor beeps that got quicker and quicker, and the rattling of Bekah’s breath as the fluid settled in her lungs. Martina and Indy changed her into her blue hoodie, and fixed her favorite scarf - one with tiny blue lightning bolts - over her head. 

Indy and Gray didn’t have the energy or stamina to try to figure out where they stood, so they chose together, for the time being. She kept her arm wrapped around his, the way she used to when he walked her down the street. He traced over her fingers where she held onto him, chewing her lip while she watched her vitals grow worse and worse, all the red flags she would be trying to fix if that was the goal. Around 3pm, the nurse came into the room. The way Indy tensed was enough for Grayson to know something was happening.

“We’re gonna give her a bit more sedation to keep her comfortable. With the current levels of her vitals, it might slow her down enough to let her pass peacefully. There are no guarantees, but it is possible.” 

Martina began to cry into her husband’s shoulder. 

“So we should say our goodbyes then?” Tarin asked through a tight throat. The nurse nodded.

“We’ll administer it and then give you guys some privacy.”

“She won’t be in any pain, right?”

“No sir. It’ll just be like falling asleep.”

Indy watched as she set up her IV and stepped out of the room. 

Grayson and Indy followed her out quietly, giving Bekah and her parents the moment that they needed. Indy’s breath was shaky, and she held tighter to Grayson as they waited in the hallway. He looked up towards the light in an attempt to stop the tears, and a few moments later, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was Martina, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy.

“You all are family. She would want you here with her.”

Grayson’s feet wouldn’t move until Indy guided him back into the room. 

Bekah’s parents stayed on either side of her bed and held her hands while Indy and Grayson stood at the foot of her bed and watched her take her last breath. 

Indy didn’t cry. She stood watch, only moving when the nurses came in to confirm time of death. She went and turned the monitors off, cutting the monotonous tone out abruptly as they removed Bekah’s IV. Grayson’s quiet sniffled and muffled sobs were almost enough to tip her over the edge, but she held it together. She hugged Martina, then Tarin, and then retreated into Grayson’s side yet again. 

There wasn’t a signal, or anyone that told them it was time to go. But they found themselves outside in the hallway eventually, and they walked arm and arm. They signed out at the desk for the last time and walked out the doors of the pediatric oncology ward, through the ocean hallway and down the stairs.

The rain had stopped.

They walked the streets in silence, holding onto each other tightly as people passed them on the sidewalk, completely unaware of what had just happened to them. The world continued to turn, the city continued to bustle, and they continued to walk, one foot in front of the other until they made it to the elevator of her building.

Indy watched the numbers go by as it climbed. She didn’t say a word when they got to her floor, or through her door or over to her couch. Grayson sat down beside her and took his shoes off. She stared over his shoulder out the windows, an overwhelming numbness settling over her entirety. 

“Indy, why don’t you take your shoes off,” Grayson whispered. 

She didn’t look at him.

“Indy?”

He waited. The blues in her eyes were dark, and his heart sank. He knelt down and untied her shoes, sliding them off her feet gently. He took her socks off too - she hated sleeping in socks. 

“I’ve got you. You’re safe, it’s okay,” he said, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She swallowed hard, and that was enough for Grayson to justify picking her up and carrying her into her room. He sat her down and pulled her covers back before he got her into bed. 

Once she was settled he stood up, waiting for just a moment before he spoke. 

“I’ll be on the couch if you need me okay? I’ll be right here.”

Indy blinked hard, and then she shook her head.

Grayson went to his knees beside her in an instant, ready to do whatever she needed. 

“Stay.”

That was all he needed. He circled around the bed and climbed in behind her, coiling his arm around her torso and crushing her back against him, pressing her into him everywhere he could. He willed himself to shield her, from the pain and the reality of what had just happened. He pressed a kiss to her hair and closed his eyes and he held his girl until morning.

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

this may be my latest one (aside from those that never saw the light of day), but sorry life calls sometimes. enjoy the rollercoaster of emotions at the end 😘

Oh Carl, poor Carl. How on earth is he going to survive with Nick? 🤣 Honestly though, Jack so sneaky with her therapy despite being halfway across the globe. I love McGee’s “obviously she thinks you need it Nick” because HAHA nail on the head right there Timmy, he definitely needs it. Needs it to prove to himself a living thing can depend on him and he won’t let it down. 

They clearly still don’t believe in personal space, Nick does NOT need to get that close to look at a simple picture of a body on the camera 👀 broooo you so hooked on her she’s like a magnet pulling you in. Alsooooo them both officially switching to first names even in the field is so key. They might not even realize they’re doing it but at the same time they’re so (relatively) comfortable in their feelings of each other that they’ll say it in front of everyone, no qualms about it. I will also never get tired of hearing Nick call her Ellie. For someone so closed off initially, to now have slowly grown to call her on a first name basis when not a single other soul (sans Toby apparently) gets that sort of treatment 🥺😍 Plus he’s teasing her about food just slightly and it’s like old times again. Ellie getting back into her foodie status is perfect, thank you NCIS for finally giving us that. 

Were back to Carl and I’m chuckling at Nick’s worry for killing it. That is all, it’s hilarious like Gibb’s creepy laugh. 

Ok and now it’s Nick almost making fun of Ellie again, just barely and then he just…listens to her 😩 he just says, oh shit she’s really into this and borderline obsessed and I think that’s actually really f-ing adorable so let me just quietly take this all in because I can’t get enough of this woman and when she’s excitedly rambling about something I’m just going to soak it in because she doesn’t do this often so instead of teasing let me just look, listen and smile like the idiot in love that I am. He’s even kind of holding back a smile when she corrects herself about Kosmic vs Killer Korn. Like goddamn this woman does things to my insides even when she’s just talking about corn and poking me with her finger. Also we’re back to Nick taking a step back and letting Ellie take lead with questioning the food truck people- I love that he respects her so hard that he’ll follow her lead and knows she is a BA with this stuff. 

Some more cute partner stuff as per usual, and I’m sorry Nick do you not have your own computer and desk??? I mean, I don’t mind and I know Ellie doesn’t either but Gould you BE more obvious??? Plus he just nods along when she’s talking because his woman knows what is up y’all and you should listen and bow down. 

Nick calling Fornell, Toby is hilarious to me- such growth. “Emily is finally squared away” FUCK YOU NCIS. FUCK YOU. THE MOST POINTLESS LAZY STORYLINE EVER OKAY. AND I REFUSE TO DIVULGE THIS SHIT MORE BECAUSE IT PISSES ME OFF TOO MUCH. IF THEY DON’T HAVE THIS AS A LARGER PLOTLINE I WILL BE RIOTING. And yes I knew something major was going to happen but good lord that was so unnecessary. I digress. Ellie pondering out loud about Gibbs’ sad personal life and Nick and McGee’s reactions had be ugly cackling. Like dyyyyyyyying. I can’t with her 🤣🤣🤣 she saying what’s everyone is thinking. Nick giving her a little grief is also so perfect for them “yeah you DID say that out loud.”

Ok now to my favorite part, Nick once again following Ellie’s lead and being initially like oh you writing an article ok we’re going with that ok cool. And then Ellie says hold my earrings we getting crazy but at the same time this is rolling off my tongue like I’ve said it a million times and doodled it in cursive in my diary, my HUSBAND and I can help so like you know let us on your truck mister we’re vaccinated anyways. AND NICK I MEAN HIS FACE. The initial surprise of oh no did she *actually* just say that??? Did she??? why yes she did and I’m sorry why do I like the sound of it so much??? What is this bubbling feeling inside my chest of oh damn I would very much like to be her husband and have her babies and have her announce to random strangers on the street that I am hers??? Is this normal? Do I need to call a medic?? Can she say that again is there a reason she would need to? Prove our cover one more time baby, give me a quick kiss, serious it’s for the good of the case. But ok fine no kiss but yeah I’ll roll with this and call you smoothly with your first name and just play into it. I love them both so much in this whole moment. I love them undercover together and just being all cutesy and Ellie’s deepest desires coming out while she’s just you know, investigating the case. 

Ok I am going to completely ignore the reason we are somber in this bullpen in fear of losing my shit again (see above) but we’ll break down the ellick part of it. Nick near her desk because he needs to be by her side even if it’s just her proximity 🥺 And then he takes a long look at Carl before looking at Ellie and man that is poignant even if it seems like just a fish. This living being that he’s been so stressed about keeping alive, realizing he HAS kept it alive. Realizing that he CAN be a person that someone (or a fish) depends on. Realizing he is built for long-term, he is built for the interdependency of a serious relationship. And looking up to Ellie and seeing that need for comfort, for strength, for a person to depend on. He knows her own strength and independence, knows yeah- she could do it on her own if she had to. But he also acknowledges he can be there to help her, he won’t break and he won’t let her down- just like he hasn’t let Carl down. So what does he do? He takes the corn he’d most definitely picked up *before* the news of Emily’s death (and oh good lord is that not the cutest fucking thing? He’d listened to her gush and obsess over Kosmic Korn (and yes if you freeze frame, he got her favorite because he’s observant) and he said, let me take notes, let me get my wife I mean girlfriend I mean partner some corn because it makes her happy, and if I can do even the smallest thing to make her smile goddamnit imma do it. I’m going to show her that any little teasing I give her is for show and I listen and I love this woman enough to go back to Kosmic Korn BY MYSELF—willingly Nick Torres will go back to a food truck—and get this lady some damn corn). But yes he got this before Emily’s death and now not only is it just to make her smile, but it’s a shred of “I hope I can bring you some comfort because otherwise I’m not sure how even though I desperately want to give you comfort.” And Ellie, the small smile of recognition at what Nick did is so sweet. And it morphs into a hesitant, yes corn is great but I really need to feel you, I need to touch you and know you’re still here. Feel you in my arms, feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe me in and I breathe you in. Feel you being alive after all we and this team have been through. McGee might go hug his kids but god I need to hug you Nick. I need to nestle my head even closer to get as physically close to you as possible, feel every inch of your warmth while I wrap my head around how short life truly is. And Nick looking down and stutter slightly at the overwhelming emotion he feels having her in his arms. The peace it brings him and the peace it brings her all-consuming. The realization this is where he was always meant to be and the same to her. How even in a somber moment he’s grateful to be her strength and yet he knows she’s also his strength. That hand that didn’t need to but came up all the same to cradle her head and stroke her hair- holding her head right at his heart. His heart that’s inevitably thumping in his chest for all the right reasons. Pressing her into him, doing everything he can to keep her from shying away and retreating behind those walls they both have. Wrapping his other hand around her upper back, shielding her from the hurt that is the world the best he can. If she never leaves his heart, she can’t be hurt. And he can’t lose her. He’d do anything to never leave that spot, that embrace he so desperately craves and needs. The grounding embrace of finally being in one another’s arms for more than a brief adrenaline-induced second. Neither wanting it to end, and yet knowing it will have to. And honestly I can only picture Nick’s hand still gently brushing her hair as Ellie leans back ever so slightly to look up at him, his warmth still radiating over her as he looks down. Wordlessly they both collect their things to go, never wanting a sound to break that moment. Hands maybe even brushing as they enter the elevator- the unspoken shift between them refusing to be broken if words aren’t muttered. They’re still locked in that embrace if the world stays silent. And that last look of longing at car doors, knowing the moment they step in and drive away it does have to sever- the shift is there but the embrace is split. Both swirling with thoughts as they drive their separate ways home as to where to go next…

Aaaaand then cue a Gibbs-centric episode with trash references to how vets do their job, I’m not bitter. She says as she ruins a sweet emo moment at the end of the wwr with her bitterness 🙄 ANYWAYS I’m gonna leave it with no side notes because honestly I don’t remember any and also it is literally the day of the next episode I’m so terrible at getting this done how do y’all keep waiting for me & reading this trash 😅❤️ 

[cuddlepilefics]

Every step of the way

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

TW: cancer (remember this blog is about fluff and comfort, we don’t do sad here....)

No one’s POV.:

It had been almost half a year since that fateful day, the day a doctor told Hyunjin he wasn’t as fine as he always thought. The dancer had pushed the thoughts as far away from himself as possible, maybe if he didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be true. His mom was the first one who learned about his diagnosis, urging her son to get treatment immediately. The doctor had advised to try chemotherapy first, prescribing a bunch of pills the dancer would have to take for three days in a row, wait for three months and repeat. Planned were four two six cycles, depending on how well the boy would respond to the treatment. Hyunjin’s day to day life now included frequent doctor visits, which he somehow managed to go to in secrecy. He had done two cycles so far and both had left him throwing up for days afterwards. Both times his friends had been there, comforting him and holding his hair out of the way as they tried to help the dancer get over his ‘stomach bug’ quickly. His hyungs prepared him light meals while the youngers cuddled him, not getting tired of the dancer’s movie requests as they watched the same few dramas over and over again with him. Little did they know.

Hyunjin knew he had lost weight, which was a miracle since he didn’t even weigh much to begin with. Dancing which was one of the things he used to enjoy most, suddenly didn’t sound as appealing anymore. His stamina was decreasing and he felt fatigued most of the time, dancing just seemed way too tiresome to be fun. Minho and Felix were the first two to notice their friend not being himself. The dance-line often practiced alone and Hyunjin’s lack of drive soon showed. His dance was lacking the usual energy and he called for water-breaks more frequently. Their concerns were often brushed of with simple statements like ‘I should have gone to bed earlier last night’ or ‘I’ve already practiced earlier’. Changbin had gotten concerned when they were fooling around backstage and he had picked the younger up, noticing how shockingly easy it was. Was the dancer on a diet? He certainly didn’t need to.  

With the next cycle of his therapy approaching, Hyunjin knew he needed to talk to his members. Their schedule was packed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up. The dancer had dreaded the conversation with his group, having to tell them he wasn’t ok and that he needed a break. He didn’t even know how to do it, the thought of calling a group-meeting making his heart beat loudly and his hands shake. Pulling out his phone, he quickly typed a short message and asked if they could all talk after dinner. That way he wouldn’t be able to chicken out again. It was only a few hours till the other members would come back from their individual practices. Hyunjin had settled for memorizing his lyrics and practicing his rap in the safety and comfort of their dorm. Rubbing at his face and patting his cheeks a few times, he tried to get himself to focus on the lyric sheets in his lap, the letters and words muddling together and losing their meaning as his thoughts were everywhere but on the task on hand.

The time passed a lot faster than expected, and soon there was a knock on the door before Seungmin poked his head in to tell Hyunjin dinner was ready. The dancer sighed, putting his lyric sheets away. He had been less productive than he had hoped he’d be. Sitting down between Seungmin and Changbin, he accepted the plate Chan handed him. The leader had meant well, piling up a generous amount of food. Hyunjin frowned, he didn’t feel too hungry to begin with and the anxious knot twisting in his stomach certainly didn’t help his appetite. Mainly pushing the food around with his chopsticks, the dancer rearranged the words in his head and tried to figure out how he’d start the conversation later. The members noticed him spacing out but left him be, knowing their friend would talk to them later. The majority of the group was already done eating when Hyunjin hadn’t even finished half of his meal. He simply helped clear the table when the others were done, dumping the rest of his food into the trash since he didn’t feel like eating anymore than he had already forced down. “You really didn’t want to eat any more?”, Chan frowned, he didn’t want his dongsaeng getting even skinnier than he already was. The younger shook his head and walked over to the living room couch, sitting down while he waited for the others to join him.

They were all gathered and Chan sensed the nervousness radiating off of his dongsaeng, so as the leader he decided to start: “You wanted to talk to us, Jinnie? Go ahead, you have our attention.” The dancer cleared his throat a few times, scrubbing his sweaty hands against his pants to dry them. “I-I have cancer”, he blurted out, his mind blank and the carefully prepared speech forgotten. There was no reply, just eerie silence. His friends had heard him but were unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Minho was the first to shake off the shock, patting the younger’s shoulder: “Not too bad, you got me there for a second.” A tear rolled down Hyunjin’s cheek and he shook his head. “Damn, you weren’t joking”, Minho cursed, pulling his dongsaeng into a tight hug. He didn’t want to let go any time soon, so he didn’t. Chan bit his lip, he knew something was up but he didn’t expect this. “We kinda figure something was off about you, just… ohh well. How long has it been?”, he sighed, slowly letting the news sink in. Avoiding the leader’s gaze, the dancer admitted: “’bout half a year. Those last two times I got sick were actually the side effects of the treatment.” Minho let go of him and settled for sitting on the floor against Hyunjin’s legs, which cleared the space for Jisung to come over and cling to his youngest hyung. “I had to tell you now because I’ll have to take the medication again in a few days and it will obviously take me down again for a while like the last times”, he hummed quietly, shuddering at the thought. Chan knelt down next to Minho and squeezed Hyunjin’s hand, assuring: “It’s okay, I’ll talk to our managers. We’ll clear your schedule and you just focus on resting and riding it out, yeah?”, the younger nodded, sniffling quietly as the leader continued, “Should you ever need to go on a hiatus, talk to me, okay? I know our livestyle is stressful and doesn’t allow much time to rest, so if you need a break, we’ll get you one.”

After a long silence, Hyunjin admitted with tears in his eyes: “I’ll probably need to at some point. It’s getting so hard to keep up with you when dancing but what if Stay will think Stray Kids is as good or even better without me?” – “That is not going to happen! Stray Kids is not Stray Kids without you hyung. Stay would want you to take care of yourself, just like we want you to. Do you remember what you told me when my anxiety got really bad? You said ‘there’s no shame in taking a rest, you come first, your job comes second’. Same goes for you too, hyung”, Jisung reminded, “We just want you to be well.” – “It’s j-just, I really loved dancing and now I can barely do it anymore. What if I’m not as good as before when all of this is over”, the older mumbled, playing with his sleeve. Tapping the dancer’s knee from where he was sitting on the ground, Minho spoke up with a firm expression: “Look at me, Jinnie. I’m good at dancing, so I can judge. You have so much natural talent as a dancer, that’s nothing that just suddenly vanishes. Yeah, you might forget about some of the moves but we are all here to remind you again.” Felix nodded along promising: “We’re the dance-line, we work on our dancing together, always have and always will. How many nights have you stayed behind with me to help me get it right, don’t you think I’m willing to do the same for you?” – “Thank you, Lixxie”, he smiled, drying his eyes with his sleeve.

“You got this, Jinnie”, Changbin smiled, ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair. The younger cringed at the touch, pleading: “Please don’t do this, it’s falling out quick enough as it is”, twirling a long strand around his finger he whimpered, “I don’t want to lose it all, I’d be so ugly being bald.” – “Jinnie, look at Chan, for now he has less hair than you. Is he ugly?”, Changbin asked. “Of course, he is!”, Hyunjin joked, snorting and earning an irritated “Excuse me???” from the leader. Changbin just continued, ignoring his hyung: “We’ll simply make sure he’ll dye his hair again for the next comeback, so he’ll lose it faster”, he winked, “and if you feel self-conscious, wear a beanie. We always do. It won’t be so much different and you can also borrow some of mine if you get tired of your own collection. We all know I have an endless number of them, you will always find one that goes with your outfit.” The dancer nodded gratefully while Jisung removed himself from his side, dashing to his room. He was slightly out of breath when he jogged back to the living room, with a black beanie in his hands. Upon further inspection, the older could make out a pair of cat ears on top of it. “Here, I haven’t worn it in an eternity but I thought it would look really good on you”, the rapper announced with sparkling eyes, “Try it on!” Hyunjin complied earning a bush of squeals, while Jisung pinched his cheek exclaiming: “Cute!” The younger fixed it a bit, so it was facing straight, beaming at his hyung: “You should keep it, it looks so much better on you anyways.” – “Thanks, Sungie. But what if I don’t want to walk around the dorm wearing a beanie 24/7?”, the dancer worried. Frowning at his hyung’s insecurity, Jeongin spoke up: “Hyung, you don’t have to hide from us. You are so handsome, you know, there’s a reason you are called prince. What’s on your head won’t change that, plus we care about you, not your hair. To us it doesn’t matter what’s on your head, if you’d walk around with a chicken living up there, we wouldn’t care.” – “Well, I would be mildly concerned if there was a chicken on his head”, Felix’ deep voice cut in. Seungmin tapped his lips, thinking deeply before considering: “I mean, a raven or a snow owl would be fine but a chicken, come on Jeongin, Hyunjin has more style than that.” – “Guys, you don’t get the point”, the maknae whined. “I do, Innie”, Hyunjin chuckled at the heated discussion that broke out about the bird bread that would fit him best, “Thank you.”

It took a few minutes for Chan to calm the maknae-line down, without agreeing on a certain bread. “How long is it till your next treatment?”, the leader asked. Counting in his head, the younger replied: “Four more days or considering today is mostly over, three days.” – “Well, how about we go for sushi during lunch tomorrow? My treat. It’s you favorite, so you can enjoy some delicious food while you can still stomach it”, the oldest offered. An excited smile spread on Hyunjin’s face and he nodded, as it had been a while since he had sushi. “Good, you need to eat well to give your body the energy it needs. You’ve been losing too much weight lately”, Minho approved, nudging his dongsaeng’s knee. Wordlessly walking over, Jeongin dropped himself on Hyunjin’s lap before announcing: “Well, now that that’s settled, as the maknae I call dips on cuddles.” – “Yah! I do not agree with this line of argument!”, Felix yelled frustrated. Soon the entire group was piled up together cuddling their sick dancer. “Thank you, guys. I wouldn’t know what to do without you”, he sniffled getting emotional from all the affection he was receiving. Chan just squeezed him a bit tighter and whispered: “You don’t have to think about that because you will always have us by your side.” – “Promise?” – “Promise! Every step of the way.”

[90slevi]

Stitches {Dabi x Reader}

TW: blood

Tired, out of breath, and in a lot of pain, you slumped your way into the hotel you were meeting Dabi in, your hand clutching your bleeding and wounded arm as you opened the door with your hip. At the counter was a middle-aged woman, her sharp blue eyes piercing through you as she filed her nails and looked like your average, bitchy movie receptionist. Grumbling quietly to yourself, she did nothing to help you, simply watching with eyebrows raised in some sort of disgust mixed with pity, but you weren't in the mood to argue. Your arm was bleeding badly, and your ankle was beginning to swell (from the pain, you assumed something bad had happened), which was why you were limping. Thank god Dabi had decided to get one of the rooms on the lower floor.

What'd happened? Well, you and Dabi had somehow got into a huge fight with two major villains you didn't recognise, and you'd seemingly lost. Dabi had gone over his limit, resulting in even more burns on his skin (if that was even possible) and almost knocked himself out, and you'd received more injuries than you'd like to admit. Thankfully, he constantly had a room booked just in case, and this hotel was known throughout the underbelly as a safe space for villains who needed it. Even if you didn't like this receptionist, you couldn't deny that you were grateful for what she and her husband were doing.

"Scar-boy is in room seven," she said bluntly, rolling her eyes as you muttered thanks. Then, she continued to file her nails and listen to trash, outdated music while you limped away, hoping Dabi was safe inside the room you shared.

Yeah, the receptionist was known to be pretty shitty, giving villains nicknames they most likely wouldn't like. Yours was Blood Bitch, a remark about your blood-manipulation quirk that you despised so much, and of course, Dabi's was Scar-boy. He didn't really care for it and ignored the red-haired woman as much as he could; although he did find it amusing when you pulled a clearly pissed-off expression.

"Room seven," you muttered to yourself, not caring for the small trail of blood you were making behind you. The carpet was already dirty and blood-stained, it wasn't as if you'd make a difference. Once you reached the door, you knocked three times, in the rhythm you and Dabi had coded, and the black-haired male opened the door. Thank god he was already there, because you didn't feel like fainting in the middle of the room and get found by some creepy guy or the maid.

"I was wondering when you'd finally get here. You took your time," he said sarcastically, and you stuck your finger up at him as he closed the door. You slumped down in one of the chairs, and you winced as you finally relieved your broken foot of walking. A shaky sigh left your lips as you glanced up at Dabi, who was walking around shirtless and in a pair of grey joggers. Scratches, cuts and already-forming bruises littered the softer skin, while the burnt areas looked even more damaged. You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, and you wondered if he'd shower. You wanted him to so he'd feel better in the long run, but you knew how painful it was for him.

"You're bleeding," he said after a while, and you chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, no shit," you answered, pulling off your jacket and black v-neck. You and Dabi had been dating for about a year now, so you trusted him enough to see you with no shirt on. After all, he'd seen you fully naked on multiple occasions, so it didn't really matter. You watched as his eyes widened for a split second at the gaping wound on your arm, and he wandered over to where the first-aid box was. "God, I didn't realise it was that bad."

"Was that self-inflicted or...?" Dabi asked, opening up the box to reveal a stitching kit. The two of you couldn't go to a hospital, as the doctors would easily recognise you, and it was too far to go to an underground one or a villain healer, so the two of you often tended to your own wounds.

"A mix of both," you answered, cursing quietly at the sharp pain in your arm. Your quirk was blood manipulation, meaning you could harden it and use it as a weapon. Usually, you prefered using pig's blood or other animals that'd died, but in drastic situations, sometimes you had to... use your own. And as painful as it was, you weren't about to lose to a hero completely defenseless. "It appears the wound got bigger as I fought."

"Those bastards," Dabi muttered, putting a mask over his lower face as he organised the needle, thread, tweezers and wet cloth. You gulped as you watched him hold the tweezers, knowing that if there was any dirt in your wound, then he'd be using those to get rid of it. Physically cringing at the thought, you caught his attention. "Is anywhere else hurt?"

"I think I've done something to my ankle," you replied, and he shook his head. "What? It wasn't my fault!"

"I know," he said, preparing something to cool it down. "I'm just frustrated that you had to walk all the way here alone. Must've been painful."

"Yeah, it hurt like a bitch," you chuckled, tugging up your jeans and pulling off your shoes to reveal intense swelling around your foot. Grimacing, you went to stand to get a second cool washcloth, but Dabi pushed you back down in your seat. "Oi!"

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. "You're not going anywhere, Doll."

"For the last time, stop calling me that," you mumbled, a hint of pink appearing in your incredibly pale face. Due to the blood you'd lost, you were becoming rather pasty and light-headed, so Dabi knew he needed to act quickly before you passed out.

"You know you like it," he chuckled, quickly nipping into the bathroom to rinse two washclothes, one for your arm and the other for your ankle. "Well, you seem to like it when we fu-"

"Shut up, Dabi," you quickly interrupted, covering your eyes in embarrassment. Despite being a villain, you were still victim to Dabi's teasing, and he knew just how to get you flustered. It wasn't difficult, anyway. "You're such a pain in the ass sometimes."

"And so are you, so that makes it even," he said, walking back into the room and dragging a stool for you to rest your foot on while he fixed up your arm. Deep down, Dabi felt incredibly guilty for leaving you on your own. He hadn't meant to; the two of you had been seperated in the fight, and he'd managed to get away pretty quickly. If he'd known where you were, he'd have gone to help instantly, but Dabi had no idea where you were. So, he retreated to the hotel, assuming you were there, and decided to stay until you returned. Dabi was actually planning to go out looking for you, but then you arrived just as he was going to leave so he didn't need to. "Need something to bite down on?"

"I'll be fine," you replied, watching as he pressed the washcloth against your wound, cleaning the edges and pouring some clean water into it. It wasn't exactly the best treatment in the world, but it was the best he could do and would at least prevent serious infection. "When did you get in?"

"About an hour ago," he said, looking around for any debris that needed removing. And thankfully for the two of you, there was no need for the tweezers. "I burnt that hero pretty badly and managed to get away. I would've killed him, but three more heroes were coming my way and I didn't fancy going to jail tonight."

You giggled at his comment, only to wince again as he began stitching your arm up. Dabi hated hurting you and seeing you in pain, and he absolutely despised giving you stitches, but he knew he had to do it to make sure you got better. He'd hate to see you with permanent injuries that matched his, so he tried his best to help you out when needed (even though you were perfectly capable of looking after yourself).

"Did you kill your hero?" Dabi asked, hoping to distract you, and you shook your head. "Got away?"

"Not really," you replied, scratching the back of your neck as you took a gulp from some water Dabi had left out. "Backup was coming so I ran off. I climed over a fence and ended up twisting my ankle and... well, look at it."

"So it was your clumsiness that caused that," he said, and he recieved a playful punch to the head. "Doll, what have I said about nudging me when I'm doing stitches?"

"Sorry," you replied, only to recieve a small punch to the knee. He wasn't angry at you; he never was. He was just worried. "So... I assume you didn't get badly injured."

"My quirk is long-distance, so no," he said, pointing towards his left upper arm. "Although I think I pulled a muscle somewhere."

"I also think you need to cool off in the shower," you suggested, pressing a hand gently against his wrist. He ever-so-slightly winced, something you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't looking for it, and his skin felt red-hot to touch. "Dabi, you know I can come in with you if you need it."

"Your ankle is in no state for walking or standing, and your stitches can't get wet," he stated, his eyes focussed solely on your wound so he didn't have to make eye-contact. "I'll be fine."

"Dabi," you said softly, knowing that talking about his scars was a pretty sensitive topic for him. Even the smallest of movements were uncomfortable for him, and even though you'd insisted on visiting a healer to get himself back to normal, he constantly refused. It was upsetting to see him in pain so often, and although he'd insisted he was used to it by now, you knew he'd rather be in a different position. "Please don't lie to me."

He looked up at you, his eyes full of tiredness as he shook his head. You were the only one Dabi truly cared about. The League were friends, sure, but he definitely didn't care for them the same way he cared about you. Dabi knew you'd be much happier if he himself felt good, but he couldn't get rid of the scars. He wanted his father to know just how much pain he'd caused him, and he needed to stay hidden. Most of all, he didn't want to look like his disgrace of a dad. Not only were their quirks almost the same, but their eyes were too.

"I didn't lie," he answered eventually, after about a minute. "I know what you're thinking. You're going to ask me to go to a healer or something."

You sighed, looking away as he finished your stitches. As much as you loved Dabi with your whole heart, he was certainly difficult to date. You really wanted him to get better and not be in pain anymore, but... if he refused, then he refused. You couldn't even force him to, as he'd overpower you in a heartbeat.

"There, your arm's better," he said, standing up as he pulled off his mask and put everything away. You pouted at it, making sure not to poke it as he put a small bandage over the top. Infection wasn't the best thing to get as a villain. "How's your ankle feeling?"

"Not great," you replied, glancing over to see that the swelling had barely gone down. "Still painful."

"If you can, keep your leg up," he said, and you cocked your head only to feel his arms behind your back and underneath your thighs. "And don't let it hit anything."

With that, he effortlessly picked you up and lifted you over to the bed, letting you rest on something more comfortable. As much as you wanted to shower to get rid of the dried blood on your body, you were way too tired to do so and your ankle would get worse with any added pressure. Plus, it was unlikely Dabi was going to shower either, so you'd have to go in with him in the morning.

Dabi plopped himself down beside you with a sigh, making sure your foot was in a comfortable position with pillows surrounding it and the cold cloth on top. You smiled at his small acts of kindness and watched as he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes.

"You're gonna sleep like a log tonight," you chuckled, and he nodded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "To be honest, I will too."

"It'll be nice to sleep with you again," Dabi said softly, and you grinned. For the past week, Dabi hadn't spent much time with you, as he'd been busy with the League. It just sucked that the two of you met again in the middle of a fight. "I fucking missed you."

"I missed you too," you replied, nuzzling your face into his chest. Even the skin that wasn't purple was burning hot, and you were tempted to place the cold cloth on his stomach instead of your foot. "How was Shigaraki?"

"A pain in the goddamn ass," he complained, and you giggled, ready to hear a long rant about how weird, creepy and just plain annoying his leader was. "He just sat there for the longest time talking to himself about nonsence. He's more irritating than Toga sometimes, and she's just psycho."

You chuckled at his response, remembering when you met the blonde girl once and she'd tried to kill you. Ever since, Dabi had refused to let the two of you meet again.

"How's Jin?" you asked, and Dabi shrugged. You actually got along pretty well with Twice, as the two of you had known each other before you'd met with Dabi. You became a villain aged seventeen, and Twice was the one who took you in for a couple years until you got a place for yourself. Then, you'd met Dabi aged nineteen, and the two of you hit it off at an underground bar. It was only mere coincidence that the two of them ended up working for the same guy.

"He's alright. He asked about you quite a few times, so don't worry. He hasn't forgotten about you," Dabi answered, and you were so glad he wasn't jealous of your friendship with Twice. Even though he did get jealous sometimes, he knew for a fact that you were strictly friends with the guy and saw him as an older brother more than a boyfriend. "Toga also asked about you..."

"Oh god," you grinned, finding it funny that she supposedly 'in love' with you. "What did she say?"

"What do you think?" he asked, and you grimaced. Then, he looked out of the window. It'd gone very dark, and although there was no clock in the room, Dabi seemed to know the time (or he guessed). "It's midnight."

"Yeah, we need to get out of here as soon as," you answered, a small yawn escaping your lips as you closed your eyes, snuggling further into Dabi's side. "So... wake me up at nine or something."

"Yeah, as if you'll sleep that long," he chuckled, planting a small kiss on your forehead as the two of you slowly but surely fell asleep.

[enithinggoes]

The witch’s teachings, lesson 0: admission

This is a documentation of the education I’ve received from the witch Morgana, whose wisdom and proficiency I’ve come to admire greatly since it began. To contextualise this, though, I must first explain how my apprenticeship at her hand began.

I was  a young lad of 23, and never had been out of the village where I had lived, whose only medic, doctor Jones, had taught me how to deal with sewing and cleaning wounds, as well as a few remedies that could supress pain and infection in the body, and I had been serving as assistant in his practices for a few months, however, we’d been recently dealing with injuries I found myself unable to treat, farmhands would appear with deep gashes into their arms and legs which, even after our usual practices, were said to radiate an intense burning sensation, and kept reopening for days on end.

After just a week of these happenings. Doctor Jones and me were both exhausted, caring for the 10 men and 2 women affected by the strange injuries had been intensely taxing, they would feverishly ramble about a dark creature with yellow eyes moving quickly through the night, slaughtering livestock and attacking any who attempted to scare it off or kill it. Me and my senior had been taking shifts of sleeping inside our clinic so at least one of us was constantly able to respond to new cases and monitor the existing victim’s condition. At the afternoon’s end, the neighbourhood suddenly fell silent, there should still be people moving through the street and conversing at the neaby bar at this time, the deafening silence made me shiver, I felt truly alone, being the only one awake at the clinic.

Suddenly the clicking of boots pierced the silence, followed by a door opening and I understood the reason behind the quiet. A woman entered the clinic wearing a short black dress with purple details, black pants, boots and gloves and a large brimmed, pointy hat. She was tall and lanky, with short raven hair. But what struck me the most was her eyes, they were dark like the ocean’s depths, giving the impression that any light that hit them could never escape, and they had a focus to them unlike those of anyone I’d met, the same focus of a falcon in the moment before it dove down for it’s prey, there was no mistaking it, this woman was a witch. I’d heard of them before, in fables and legends, how they were powerful and conniving and vicious and you should never cross them lest you be cursed to die or meet a fate even more terrible.

I stood reflexively to attention, stammering as I spoke a hurried greeting, “Hello ma’m, what brings you here?”

She brought out a small pouch and spoke with elegance and clarity “Heard your town was having a little werewolf trouble, so I’ve been brought on for a little help and consultation, you’re gonna want to spread that over their wounds twice, about half a day apart if you want the stinging to stop, has anyone been bitten?”

“No ma’m, we’ve only seen claw marks so far, did you say werewolf? I didn’t think those were real! What can we do? Should we organize a search party? What is this stuff?”, I asked, taking a small cilinder  filled with some kind of cream out of her pouch,  which she’d handed to me.

“Take a breath laddy, you don’t have to do anything about the werewolf, let momma here deal with that, it’s what I’m here to do anyway, just warn everyone to stay inside for a few days, alright? As for the paste, it’s silver powder, mashed together with rosemary, you can ask your mayor for the ingredients and make it here yourself.”

As the witch instructed, I spread the paste over my patients’ injuries, she insisted on checking them for bite marks, although considering the size of this creature’s claws, I imagine it would be near impossible to miss a bite. Whenever I finished the treatment on a pacient, their cries of pain would quickly lower in volume and frequency, to the point I stopped a few times to check if their heart and breathing were stopping, but their heartbeat was only going down from the speed it had accelerated to due to the pain back to a stable beat.

As she prepared to leave the clinic, the witch turned to me and asked “Have any human bones or half eaten carcasses appeared? Anybody disappear recently?”

“No ma’m, no dead yet, only injured” I responded

“Great, must be a recent transformation then, one last thing,” she said, “And I need you to answer this honestly, I promise it’s gonna be better for everyone, including you. Have you, or anyone you know been experiencing frequent night terrors, sleepwalking or finding destroyed furniture inside their homes?”

I must admit I was a bit afraid when I responded “not that I know of, ma’m.”

She put her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “Easy there chap, you can call me Morgana ok? I’ll take you at your word, it’ll all be alright soon, now get some rest, you look spent.”

After she went away I was left to muse upon what that encounter had meant, the first witch I’d met seemed a lot kinder than the ones in the stories. Sure, she a cleverness to her indicative of someone who knew of things I didn’t, and a professional stance in the face of those grievous wounds that showed she was rather habituated to violence. But seemed ultimately benign and even kind, furthermore, I reckoned there was no way these people would recover in less than a month without her knowledge and assistance.

As I thought about it, my mind wandered to her pouch and the cylinder for the healing substance, still on the table, had she forgotten it? She’d probably want it back right? In what I’ve come to regard as a stupid move I left to look for her and give her what she’d left behind.

I only came to my senses when I realized it was already quite dark out, I thought I heard something moving behind me, but it could have been a mixture of exhaustion and paranoia, I started moving faster, trying to find my way home or back to the clinic, But the streets seemed to wind in ways unfamiliar to me. After a while I turned a corner only to  find a furred creature starring back at me, it looked like a bear, but taller and skinnier and it’s eyes seemed to glow slightly in the dark. I ran, and heard it bounding towards me, coming closer and closer every second, I turned town an alley, trying to lose it but realized my mistake when I saw the wall at its end, I turned to face the creature, preparing to scare it off or maybe die trying.

Its jaws opened wide as it jumped towards me, moving its arms as if to grab me and hold me in place, I closed my eyes out of fear. *BANG*, a noise rung out through the alley, the creature’s weight knocked me down with it’s momentum, but no bite or swipe came, it was already dead, at the other end of the alley stood Morgana, smoke coming out of her flintlock pistol. I hastily pushed the creature’s body to the side, spotting a hole in the back of its skull

“I thought I told you to stay inside, kid. What  in god’s name are you doing here, trying to get yourself killed?” She scolded while coming towards me.

I stood up as fast as I could, then did my best to answer her, “Y-You forgot your pouch.”

“Boy, you’re either very selfless or very stupid.” She took the pouch from my hand, then added under her breath “thank you.”

Suddenly, something came to mind, the real reason I was here, why I’d gone out in the middle of the night and risked my life, “I… I think I wanted to see you work. I was awestruck by your knowledge of a world that was in the edge of my very reality until now, you seem to wield a comprehension over it that seems impossible for anyone I know.” I bowed down my head. “Please, take me on as your apprentice! I’ll serve you however you like, just give me a morsel of that wisdom you wield so effortlessly!”

For the first time so far, she seemed stunned, she put her hand to her chin, thinking for a moment. “so your thirst for wisdom is such that it overpowers your fear of the dark…Very well, I could use a familiar, but be warned, I expect you to carry my things and do the menial labour I cannot waste my time doing. This will be hard, and very often tiring, you must let go of your old life and your old name if you are to proceed. Until you are powerful enough to be a witch yourself and choose your new denomination you shall be known only as my familiar. do you understand that?” She extended her hand towards me, stern but welcoming.

“Yes ma’m… Morgana.” I shook her hand.

“Then the pact is sealed.” A blue light engulfed me as I felt myself shrinking and transforming, I had quickly transformed into the form of a medium black cat, I’d heard about witch’s familiars before, so I did nothing but walk into my master’s leg, following her out of the alley.

   As we left in the first rays of dawn, the first thing I learned was how the witch was able to kill the werewolf in one shot when it had bested many men, only silver weapons can wound a werewolf, so her silver bullet was an easy fix. The second was why she chose to leave so soon, instructing the village doctor like she’d done with me before and passing by a sea of judgemental eyes,  angry and fearful. Witches are not well liked, they are seen as bad omens and dangerous beings, but they are tolerated as long as they are needed by the community. With the monster gone, and the body of a known baker of the village found in an alley with a hole in the back of the skull, that bottled up resentment was soon to turn into more dangerous action, hitting the road before that happened was vital to a witch’s survival. Thus began my education under the wise witch Morgana.

[chocolatedutchthehoe]

Another Diamond Day.

TW: Cancer, Mentions of death.

—————————————————

The sun peeked through my sheer curtains as I laid flat on my bed reaching above me. It’s rays kissed my eyelids, the tenderness of warmth lingered on my cheek and I smiled into its warmth. I don’t get this feeling often.

Its unexplainable.

This feeling, much like motivation, is fleeting. Some days I let it slip through the tiniest crack of my fingers. Other days The aches in my body melt away over night as I wake with purpose. I uncover myself from my soft linens and sit up allowing my feet to dangle freely over my plush white rug.

I take in the warmth of the sun, the smile set on my face for the day. I yawned loudly, standing and opening the large window in front of me and breathing in deeply the cool crisp air.

I don’t get many days like this but when I do I feel it through my body. I feel light, airy, as if if I jumped just a little bit my body would simply float above the satin covers sprawled across my bed.

I sat back down reaching behind me to touch the only tangible thing in my bed other than my covers. My body followed my arms as I laid back, I caressed his upper left thigh with my hand and laid my head on his stomach. The rise and fall of his toned abdomen made me feel like just my head was on a boat floating ever so softly up and down a small tide.

He sucked in a deep breath finally waking up before reaching above himself and stretching then bringing his fingers back down and playing in my tree rooted like Locs. Twisting the fully closed ends in between his pointer and thumb before slowly making his way up to my freely new hair.

“You have to re-twist it soon right?”

I chuckled a little.

“Its retighten and yes baby I do. But I will do it after my appointment.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I know you are you weren’t gonna let me go without you anyway..”

I stared at the ceiling as silence filled the room.

“Are you scared..”

It was more of a statement then a question. But Dom was mostly asking himself.

“No... I’m prepared.”

I stood where I once was before he woke and rounded our bed to his side. Taking his hand in mine and leading him to the our connected on sweet bathroom.

We washed out bodies together; the water from the shower head above rushed from our heads to our toes. He watched me under tired lids. The lazy smile he stretched across his face. I couldn’t help but trace his chest with my fingers. We stood, For what seemed like hours, in each others presence was merely fifteen minutes as we took turns washing our bodies we couldn’t help but love each other in the process. Even if it was for just a moment just to take our mind off of the task we had to

Overcome today.

He stepped out first drying himself feverishly as I stayed under the water that has now turned cold. The fog from

Our heat escaped the bathroom as he opened the door to the bedroom. I gave it a few seconds letting the cold water run down my neck and chest before turning it off and following in pursuit.

We dressed comfortably. I wore my shirred beige backless hemmed dress with white sandals and he matched with his light brown slacks and white turtle neck. We bonded in the kitchen making our favorites for breakfasts. French toast with bananas, sweet sausage and eggs with a side of chopped fruit.

I like tea.. He likes coffee. I like the smell of coffee... He claims he doesn’t think teas have a smell. I smile to myself at the arguments we have about whether they do or don’t.

It’s the first day of spring, although the sun is out it was still chilly.

“Don’t forget your jacket.”

I rolled my eyes with my back facing him and my right hand on our front doorknob.

“I don’t think it’s that cold outside.”

I tried to convince with no luck. He sucked his teeth making his way to our coat closet and pulling out both our jackets.

“You don’t ever think it’s ‘That Cold’, Alana.”

He took my hand in his as he led me down the hallway, to the elevator and down to the garage to the car. We walked in unison towards his truck, both rounding to the passenger side. He opened the door and I took the passenger seat as he shut my door and rounded to the drivers side.

We drove in a comfortable silence. The stereo playing a random FM radio and his hand clasped over mine on the center console. The streets were quiet as if the day was made for us. No traffic, no loud noise from impatient drivers slamming their fist on the center of their wheel and screaming out their window. The trees were green, vibrant and lively. Although today was the first day of spring it’s has been warm for weeks with slight rain showers allowing the plants of all different shapes and sizes bloom freely.

The people on the side walks walked with purpose as the sun followed us to our destination. I opened the sunroof, The breeze was warm I could feel it on every part of my skin as it blew through my locs and tickled the top of my head. My doctors office wasn’t far but I know Dom took the longer routs just to waste time. Finally pulling into the parking lot. He stepped out first from the parked car and I Waited for him to make his way to my side as he always made me do. ‘Don’t touch my door.’ Was what he always told me. He grabbed ahold of my hand with his left as his right hand held the door open. The wind once again embraced me, it flew past my covered arms, giving me goosebumps, and dipped between my legs lifting my dress. We walked once again hand in hand into the large brick building. Patients, Doctors, Nurses, and other medical staff filled the large common area seemingly wandering aimlessly although I knew they had an agenda.

The secretary gave us directions to outpatient. When we arrived I signed myself in and got my blood pressure taken. We sat in the waiting room listening to the chiming bells and awaiting a nurse to announce my name.

His large fingers danced in my open palm as we watched whatever they had on their main television. A few minutes have gone by since we’ve been seated and I rested my head on his shoulder trying to stay awake.

“Alana Cole.”

my head lifted in response as the nurse smiled from the door way ushering us through. We followed her to an empty office and before she turned to leave she smiled again.

“Dr. Andrews will be in with you in a moment.” She shut the door.

We sat in silence, something that seemed to be in a common repetition for us today. But I could tell this silence more than the others. It was tense. Dom bounced his left leg nervously and roughly massaged my left hand. The weight of the world was on his shoulders for some reason. He breathed heavily and ever time he exhaled he pursed his lips like he wanted to whistle, blowing his cheeks out. I rested my right hand over his eager ones.

“Calm down baby.” I caressed his cheek taking my free hand turning his head away from the door where he stared waiting for the doctor.

I kissed him softly hopefully taking his mind off the inevitable that was sure to come. Even if it was for just a moment.

The doctor entered. Dom stood shaking his hand. I mimicked to not seem rude although it wouldn’t have made a difference.

“How are you guys this morning?”

He asked unease though he tried not to show it.

“We’re doing okay. A little timid if I’m being honest.”

Dom answered. He was scared.

“Well let’s not waste time then.” Dr. Andrews stood, pulling an image from a file folder with my name labeled on it. He attached it to a white board with an LED light on it to see more clearly.

“As you can see here we are in the early stages of Three. Which is a little further than what we were hoping for as far as surgery goes. The tumor has spread from the lower muscular tissue on the left side of you brain down to your left shoulder and c-v in your spine. That’s where the tightness and soreness you were talking about come in. It is still treatable with some chemo radiation therapy.”

“How early can we start therapy?” Dom jumped to the edge of his seat.

He and Dr. Andrews pondered through treatment strategies. I couldn’t help but fall into my own diseased mind. Their voices faded away as I took in my surroundings...

More importantly Dom’s face. His dark curly hair that contrasted perfect with his light brown eyes. The specs of green the surrounded the edges of his iris. His smooth brown skin was Arguably lighter than mine as I spent more Time Outside then he did. His chiseled jaw was perfectly even and his beard connected from his hair line to the end of his chin. He was always so clean shaven. His eyes curved down like a falling crescent moon. And he had the nose bridge of a Nubian prince. His smile was a bright as th-

“How does that sound Ms.Cole..”

Breaking away from my thoughts I smiled at him. I didn’t hear a word he said but did it really matter.

“If I don’t go through with treatment how long would you estimate my time.”

“Oh I’m-. we would have plenty of time if we started this week.“

“If we didn’t?”

“Alana he’s saying we can start trea-“

“I heard what he said baby.... I just want to know.”

The doctor pondered.

“I would estimate roughly eight- ten months if you refuse treatment..”

I nodded understandingly. Picking up my purse and going to shake his hand once again.

“Alana the chances of chemo going well outweighs anything else. And once we are able to shrink the tumor to a manageable size surgery would be just as easy. I would like you to take it into consideration.”

I knodded again holding his one large hand in both of my small ones.

“Thank you.”

I looked back at Dominic expecting my stance to be a signal to him to follow but he seemed to be still processing my choice.

“Dom let’s go.”

he stood from his chair, still dazed by the conversation that happened mere seconds ago, and walked towards the doctor shaking his hand with begging eyes.

“You two have a wander full day.”

We made our way back to the car. The sun was higher in the sky, the heat more prominent. The rays hit our faces as we walked towards the parking lot. I was a foot

In front of him. He treaded slowly behind me but his long legs didn’t allow him to fall far behind. I reached the truck before Dom waiting for him to open the door. He stopped just a hair before me and squinted up at the sky. He took my small hand in his and held on fully as apposed to me holding his pointer and middle. And squeezed . He pulled me

Into him and held me longingly. Kissing the my forehead like it was the first time we were meeting after years of separation but at the same time like we were parting again.

“I love you.” He whispered to the top of my head.

“I love you more...”

“You can be so selfish sometimes...”

He continued. Tears stained his face, falling in pattern onto my forehead and down my face.

“How do you manage, with so much love around you, how do you manage to be so selfish Alana.”

He was angry though he didn’t let go. I was dying and there was nothing he could Do about it.

‘How could I love him and do this to him.’ Is what he wanted to say.

I don’t know how. So I kept quiet.

He wasted no time reaching behind me and opening my door. I sat down and he closed the door roughly trying not to slam it. He made his way to the drivers side.

I watched as he started the engine and put the car into reverse. He tried not to look at me. For the first time I couldn’t tell what he held in his eyes. The mixed emotions that swirled in his golden iris’s were clouded by tears he refused to let fall.

Sitting forward he put the car in drive and clasped his hand over mine on the center console. The drive back home was hotter and the radio played louder to void what would have been an uncomfortable silence.

I don’t get many days like this but when I do I feel it through my body. I feel light, airy, as if if I jumped just a little bit my body would simply float. I didn’t want to ruin it.