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collectionofsinglefathers · 1 year

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Hawkins, Indiana: Welcome To Hell

Chapter 2: Jane

Night had long fallen hours before. Hopper’s research papers were littered on the coffee table in the living room, left there once the three adults moved into the kitchen. Joyce and Hop sat across from each other, both smoking, while Booker stood a few feet away, pacing once again but not quite as frantic as he had been earlier. Now, he was just processing everything he’d been told.

Government conspiracies, Will communicating through the strung-up Christmas lights, Joyce seeing him through her wall, a monster with no face trying to bust its way through. It was… a lot. Almost too much.

“You all right over there, kid?” Jim asked his nephew.

Booker nodded slightly. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay. I just… It had no face?” he blurted out. Again. “That’s… I’m sorry, I’m okay. This is just a lot to take in all at once.” He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

Joyce turned back to the Chief. “Look, we gotta go through this again.”

“I told you everything that I saw.”

“Tell me again,” Joyce insisted.

Jim sighed. “Upstairs or downstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

“There was a laboratory,” he told them both again. “It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was…” He paused, as if he was still wrapping his head around how it could be the truth. “There was this kid’s room.”

“How do you know it was a kid’s room?” Joyce asked.

“More like a prison,” he muttered.

“So then what made you think it was a room for a kid?” Booker asked. “And if they have Will, why would they make the whole world think he’s dead? How is that their easiest and most logical way of covering this up?”

“I don’t know, Book,” Jim sighed. “I don’t know what their thinking is.”

“The room, Hop. Why did you think it was a kid’s room?” Joyce pushed, trying to stay on track.

“Because, I told you,” he stated. “The size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal—“

Joyce cut him off. “You didn’t say there was a drawing.”

“Yeah, there was a drawing of… an adult and a child,” he told her. “It said eleven on it.”

“Was it good?” Joyce asked.

Jim looked at her in exasperation. “It was a kid’s drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures.”

Joyce smiled and stood, retrieving a drawing from the pile of stuff on the counter and putting it down in front of Jim. Booker stepped forward to look at it as well. “Wasn’t Will,” Joyce told them confidently as she sat back down.

“Wow,” Booker said quietly. “Yeah, you’re right, Will’s good… Why is the wizard shooting heads of lettuce?”

“It was supposed to be, uh, fireballs or something, but he didn’t have the right color,” Joyce told him. Even through the terribleness of the situation she was in, her pride in her youngest son was apparent on her face.

Jim stood and walked to his own papers. “Earl,” he began. “The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny.”

God, Benny. With everything else going on in town, Booker had almost forgotten about Benny’s death. Before, it seemed like it was just another tragic event in a string of tragic events. But now…

Joyce and Booker followed Hop to the living room, Joyce sitting down on the sofa next to him and Booker crouching down on the other side of the coffee table to look closely at one of the pages Jim had brought. He caught the name Terry Ives before his uncle continued.

“Now, I pressed him, and he said it might be Will, but maybe…”

“Maybe it was this other kid?” Booker asked, looking up at Jim.

Jim grabbed the paper that Booker had been looking at to show Joyce. “This woman, Terry Ives. She claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government. Now, the claims came to nothing. But what if… I mean, what if this whole time I’ve been looking for Will, I’ve been chasing after some other kid?”

“Holy shit,” Booker breathed, his voice barely audible above a whisper. Booker glanced out the window as a bit of light caught his eye. It was the first signs of sunrise as the clouds along the horizon began to slowly change color. Jesus, he hadn’t realized just how much time had gone by while the three of them worked through all of this. “Well, the sun is coming up, so what’s the plan?”

Jim gathered his papers. “We find Terry Ives.” He stood and made for the door, Joyce and Booker following close behind. “I don’t know where she lives, but if we call Frank, he’ll be able to run a quick search and find the address. I just need a pay phone…”

Jim stopped and looked over at Booker. The three had walked to Hopper’s truck, and as Joyce got into the passenger seat, Booker opened the door to the back seat. He was about to say something, to stop his nephew from getting in the truck and coming along with them, but he stopped himself. He’d already made the decision to tell Booker everything, it was long past the time for Jim to be able to stop him now. So, resigned to it, he sighed and got into the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they had finally gotten to a pay phone, they had to wait. First, for it to get to an hour where Frank was even at the station for Jim to call him. Then, they had to wait for the search to be run. But eventually, Frank had called back at the pay phone and Jim had gotten the information. Terry was living in Bloomington. The drive itself didn’t take very long, but none of them really cared how long it was. They were all running on coffee and determination at that point.

Finally, they pulled up outside the house at the address they’d received. It was a nice house, blue on the outside with a chimney. They approached the front door and Jim knocked. Thankfully, this knock wasn’t quite as insistent as when he’d knocked on Joyce’s door.

After a few moments, the curtain that covered the glass window in the door was moved aside by a woman. With a curious and cautious expression, she opened the door and looked at the trio that stood on her front porch. “Can I help you?” she asked once the door was open.

“Hi, we’re looking for Terry Ives,” Jim stated. “Does she live here?”

The woman looked Jim up and down as she leaned against her doorframe. “Who’s asking?”

“The Hawkins chief of police,” he told her. He’d been prepared for this question and he lifted his badge to show her. A glance over his shoulder would also let her see that the truck they’d pulled up in was clearly a police vehicle, with the lights on top and the words “Hawkins Police Dept.” emblazoned on the side.

“And you want to talk to my sister?” the woman asked, seemingly a little befuddled by the situation.

“Well, if your sister’s Terry Ives, then yeah, we do,” Jim told her.

The woman sighed, any defensiveness she had draining out of her. She had no desire to argue with a cop at this moment in time. “Okay, well, you can come in,” she told them. “But if you want Terry to tell you anything, you’re about five years too late.”

She let the three of them inside and Booker closed the door behind them. The three of them introduced themselves, and the woman introduced herself as Becky. Becky glanced over at Booker and looked at him curiously. He could’ve guessed what she was thinking. His dark hair was cut short, but with four piercings, three in his ears and one in his eyebrow, and his jacket that screamed “punk”, he knew she must’ve been doubting that he was a cop and wondering why exactly he was hanging around one. But, she didn’t question it. At least, not verbally.

She led the three of them deeper into the house, towards the sounds of a television. In the room she brought them to, a woman sat in a chair in front of the TV. It was Terry. Booker recognized her face from the picture that was on the papers Jim had. Her was up in a bun and she wore a blue nightgown with a brown jacket over it. She looked at them blankly as they entered the room.

“Terry, you have some visitors,” Becky announced, sounding just a little tired.

Joyce stepped forward. “Hello. My name’s Joyce Byers. Uh, this is Booker and Hopper.” She indicated to the two men behind her. “We drove over from Hawkins. You see, uh, my son, he’s been missing for almost a week now and, um, we were wondering if we could talk to you about your daughter. Jane? If there’s anything that you could tell us about when she was taken…”

As Joyce spoke, Terry’s expression remained completely blank. It almost felt for a moment like she wasn’t even hearing what was being said.

“What was your relationship with Dr. Brenner?” Jim asked her from the doorway. “You guys keep in touch?” Still, nothing.

Nervously, Joyce stepped forward and unfolded one of the missing posters she had made with Jonathan to show Terry the picture of Will. “This is him. This is Will. You may have seen him on the news…” Terry’s eyes moved slowly to the picture, and then slowly away from it, back to the TV. Clearly, something was wrong.

Booker looked over at Becky. “What happened to her?” he asked her softly.

Becky sighed. “I told you, you’re wasting your time.”

She led the three of them from the room and into the kitchen, where she poured them all a cup of coffee as they sat around the table. “She was a part of some study in college,” she told them.

“MK Ultra?” Jim asked.

Becky nodded as she took a drag on her cigarette. “Yeah, that’s the one. It was started in the ‘50s. By the time Terry got involved in the late 60s, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good.”

“And this was the CIA that ran this?” Booker mentioned, remembering the article Jim had read.

She smiled at him. “You and Terry would’ve gotten along,” she told Booker. “‘The Man’, with a big capital M.” She sighed. “They’d pay, you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give ‘em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly. And then they’d strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks.”

“Isolation tanks?” Joyce asked.

“You mean like sensory deprivation tanks?” Booker said. Becky nodded. Joyce looked over at him questionly. “Yeah, they’re like these big bathtubs full of saltwater, and you float in the water and you can’t see or hear anything. You just kind of float in the dark, and you lose all sense of… well, everything.”

Jim looked over at him, one eyebrow arched, questioning him. “How do you know so much about it?”

Booker suddenly began to feel a little sheepish. “I’ve, uh, been in one a couple of times,” Booker told him, stammering ever since slightly. “For… fun, I guess. Honestly, it was kind of therapeutic.”

“Was this back in New York?”

Booker nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment.

“Well, the people running this program, they wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind,” Becky continued on. “Real hippie crap. I mean, it’s not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff.” She sighed. “The thing is, though, she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time.”

“Jane,” Joyce said softly, and Becky nodded. “Do you have any pictures of her?” she asked.

Becky looked between the three of them, realizing that they were missing a key piece of information. “I don’t think you guys understand,” she told them. “Terry miscarried in the third trimester.”

That caught Booker off-guard. He wasn’t expecting that. He exchanged shocked glances with Joyce and his uncle.

“Wait… she never had Jane?” Booker asked, clearly confused.

Becky shook her head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

She got up from the table and led them even deeper into the house into a nursery that was clearly meant for a little girl. The walls were painted a pastel pink, and had various decorations, such as a portrait of a mother holding a baby. There was a crib with a mobile over it, and an armchair with a soft blanket thrown over the back of it, where one would sit, maybe while feeding or rocking an infant to sleep. Hopper gently pushed the mobile and as it spun, it softly played a music box version of Brahms’ lullaby.

“She keeps all of this up,” Becky told the trio as they all entered the room. “Been doing it for 12 years.” Becky sat down on the arm of the chair and sighed deeply. “Terry pretends like Jane is real, like she’s gonna come home someday. Says she’s special. Born with ‘abilities.’”

“Abilities?” Joyce asked.

“You read any Stephen King?” Becky asked. The trio exchanged nervous glances. Becky chuckled. “You guys look scared, actually. I mean, it’s all make-believe.”

“When you say Stephen King,” Booker said, “do you mean like the Shining? Like, telepathy, that kind of thing?”

Becky nodded. “Telekinesis, too. All that shit you can do with your mind. That’s why the big, bad Man stole Jane away. Her baby’s a weapon off fighting the commies.” She sighed and took another drag off her cigarette. “The doctors all say it’s a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt.”

“Do you think there’s any chance she could be telling the truth?” Joyce asked. “About having had the kid?”

Becky arched an eyebrow. “There’s no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried.”

“Yeah, but that could’ve been covered up,” Jim said. “Right?”

Becky looked up at him and smirked. “Terry would’ve liked you, too, man.”

“What about her father?” Booker asked. “Jane’s father. Is he still around at all?”

Becky shook her head. “She never spoke about him. All she ever told me was that he had ‘eyes as blue as the ocean.’ Which, you know, doesn’t really narrow it down,” she said.

“Uh… thanks so much for your time, ma’am,” Hopper told her. “We’ll get out of your hair now.”

“But thank you so much for telling us all this,” Joyce interjected as Becky began to lead them out. “We appreciate it.”

“No worries,” she told Joyce. “Sorry we couldn’t be of more help finding your boy.” She opened the door for them. “Good luck.”

Joyce took one last look at Terry as they passed and then sighed. “Thank you,” she said softly before exiting with the other two men.

They all walked back to the truck quietly. When they got inside, Joyce let out a tearful sigh and rubbed her forehead. “Hey,” Hop said. “We’re gonna find him.”

“Yeah, like Terry found her daughter?” Joyce responded, lifting her head out of her hand.

“We’re close,” he insisted.

“Twelve years,” Joyce said. “Twelve years she’s been looking for her.”

“And then she shows up at Benny’s five nights ago,” Booker remarked, leaning forward from the backseat to give Joyce’s shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Which means there’s a chance,” Jim continued. “You know what I would give? For a chance?” His voice turned soft and his eyes spoke volumes that words couldn’t even come close to expressing.

The moment was interrupted by Hopper’s walkie crackling to life as Officer Callahan’s voice spoke from it. “Hey, Chief, you there? Hey, Chief?”

Hopper grabbed the walkie and responded, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Yeah, a fight broke out here, and—“

“Cal, I don’t have time for this,” Hop interrupted.

“It’s Jonathan Byers.” Joyce looked up in surprise. “You haven’t seen Joyce have you?” Callahan asked.

“Yeah,” Hopper responded after a moment. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a little while, Cal, just hold tight.”

“Copy that.” The walkie crackled once more before going silent.

“What in the hell is he doing?” Joyce said. “Getting into a fight?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” Hopper told her as he started the truck and pulled away from the Ives’ household, beginning to make the trip back to Hawkins.

#fanfiction #fanfic #stranger things #jim hopper #joyce byers

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reidsnose · 3 years

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spilled coffee

overview: spencer mistakenly spills his coffee all over reader's stuff on a case, but it turns into a happy accident (based on this request)

genre: fluff :)

a/n: ok so i think this is so cute and ive been meaning to write something ab coffee art for so long im so hapoy i got sent this request! as always lmk what u guys think of it :)

masterlist

you sat at a raggedy table, spitballing with the team in a run down police station in the absolute middle of nowhere. your notebook was open wide in front of you, the blank page taunting your inability to make a good assessment of this unsub.

"hey guys, i think i've got something," Spencer announced, walking into the room.

"thank God," you murmured under your breath.

he began walking over to the board, setting down his coffee next to you. except he accidentally bumped the corner of the table as he crossed the room, consequently knocking over his cup and spilling coffee all over your paper.

he gasped, profusely apologizing and you assured him that it was ok as you wiped it off as best you could, urging him to say what he came to say about the case.

you left your notebook out to dry and the next couple of days went by very quickly, and you nearly forgot about it. it wasn't until you were all packing up that Spencer handed it to you.

"im so sorry again, ill buy you a knew one." he offered.

"no its ok! it just has some character now!" you explained, thumbing through the pages, now stiff and various shades of brown, "mmm and it smells like coffee."

"i'm gonna find a way to make it up to you." he stated as the two of you walked out of the room.

the jet ride was going to be long, and everyone was schlumped, meaning it would be void of fun commentary and be even more long and unbearable.

you sighed, flipping through your stained notebook before getting to the exact page the coffee had been spilled onto. it might have been the lighting on the jet, or maybe the sleepiness on your eyes, but the longer you stared at the blob, the more it looked like a person.

a person you knew... someone with wavy hair that stuck up in all directions, someone who had a cute button nose, someone with kind eyes and a bright smile. someone with an iq of 187 and a particular interest in halloween and chocolate frosted donuts with sprinkles.

the coffee stain looked just like Spencer.

you rubbed your eyes a couple of times but nope, he was still there, in the coffee stain.

you couldn't help but think you were going a little crazy. you had liked him for quite some time, maybe you were just seeing him in everything now. maybe to everyone else it just looked like a coffee blob?

regardless, you took out your pen and started sketching. outlining his perfectly messy hair. and his defined jaw and cheek bones. and his puckered up, oval, kissable lips, curled up in a smile. and his little boop-able nose. and his off center tie.

you weren't sure how long you had been drawing, or how many times you had looked over at Reid to make sure you were getting him down correctly. and yes you were.

all the other times you had secretly sketched him it never turned out right. there was always something that made it like someone looks like Spencer. but never quite him.

until now.

because somehow, this spilled coffee sketch had perfectly captured his essence. maybe because he was the one that spilled it? maybe it had to be done together to look right?

whatever it was you just couldn't stop staring at the wonderful accident that you and him had created.

you looked up again to see him walking over and quickly flipped your notebook to the other side, trying hard to hide your drawing.

"hey," he smiled sitting down across from you.

"hey," you replied, voices low to avoid waking up the team.

"what were you drawing?" he asked innocently.

"oh..uh nothing," you denied quickly.

"oh come on you know how much i love your doodles, show me!"

"you've seen my doodles," you face palmed.

"yes! and i love them! especially the little flower chains you border your paper with sometimes," he giggled.

"well this one..it um didn't turn out right, you wont like it."

"i doubt that."

you sighed, giving into his pleading eyes, "here."

he flipped it over, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open, "WOAH!"

"shhh!! they're sleeping!" you whispered, pointing at the rest of the team.

"y/n! this is absolutely incredible! how did you- out of a coffee spill- and it looks so- wow. i-" he looked up at you, a huge smile stretching across his face, "i'm honored that you chose to draw me. thank you."

"you're welcome, i've tried to draw you before but i could never get it right until now," you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up.

his eyes softened.

"nothing says Spencer Reid like spilled coffee," he joked, making you smile. "but how come you didn't add yourself?"

"what?" you chuckled.

"theres a second blob here. right next to me," he pointed.

"yeah but that just looks like... a blob."

"no! that looks exactly like you! look theres your hair, and your eyes, and even the height difference is right!" he explained excitedly, grabbing your pen, "may i?"

you nodded and watched him get to work, sticking his tongue out as he focused. his approach was much different then yours, he drew connected, long shaky lines, and even though it didn't match the style you drew him in it was still perfect. and it still looked just like you.

he finished up, adding his last touches before pushing the paper back towards you.

"spence, i love it!" you breathed, holding it up in-front of you as you felt your heart begin to swell. "look at us. Spencer and y/n"

"Spencer and y/n." he echoed, liking the way your name felt in his mouth.

you smiled, "we forgot to sign."

"oh, right," he stammered, taking the pen and signing at the bottom corner before passing it to you and watching you do the same.

"something is off," you frowned.

"no! i think we look good together." he countered, wondering if you would catch the hint.

"no.." you sighed, taking the paper and holding it close as you scrawled something else.

his heart sank. rejection. you were probably scribbling out his face. or drawing a line between the two of you. this was gonna hurt.

you dropped the notebook back in front of him with a happy sigh. he brought his eyes up, wishing you'd at least had the decency to not show him.

but when he looked he was surprised. pleasantly surprised.

a large heart floated above your heads in the picture.

he grinned at you, his heart making its way back up to his chest from inside his stomach.

"i think we look great together." you grinned back.

his fingers grazed yours on top of the table.

"i agree." he breathed, looking like the physical embodiment of heart eyes.

"hey lovebirds," morgan groaned, "i'm so happy for you but please shut up and let me sleep."

you two chuckled, both whispering an apology, grinning ear to ear.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @takeyourleap-of-faith @vampire-overlord @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni

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minty-mumbles · 3 years

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True Colors

Summary: Monsters are stupid, but they do have excellent color vision, and can recognize patterns almost as well as Hylians. This leads to some misunderstandings.

Or:

Monsters assume that Hylians operate under the same color system as they do.

Content Warning: Not much to note. A few Bokoblins die.

Author's Note: I wrote this to fill this prompt from @linkeduniverse-prompts. It got way out of hand and ended up being about 3k words longer than I expected. I have a cheat sheet about color meanings at the end.

(Read on AO3 Here)

~~~

Greg wasn’t stupid. Well, he had been told plenty of times by his sisters that he was. He was a Red Bokoblin, and Reds weren't known for being very smart. (Not that any kind of Bokoblins were, but that was irrelevant to Greg.)

But personally, he felt he was a lot smarter than many of the others in his clan. Like Jeff.

Jeff was an idiot, even by Bokoblin standards.

It was because he was so intelligent, Greg thought, that he was able to devise a plan to sneak up on this group of travelers. (Truthfully, he wasn't being very sneaky. The group he was tracking was just being particularly unobservant at the moment.)

Greg had seen the perils of attacking first and asking questions later first hand. His brother, Derek, had done so, and picked a fight with the wrong group of travelers. Derek had paid the price for that mistake with his life. And then Derek II did the same... And then Derek III. And then there was Derek IV, who truthfully hadn’t made that poor of a choice in target. It was just plain unfortunate that that Hylian hero had shown up and lit him on fire. (Honestly, maybe his parents should stop naming their kids Derek.)

Not that picking a fight with the wrong Hylians was particularly hard to do for them. Their clan was mostly Reds, the lowliest and weakest of their kind. Only his eldest sisters were lucky enough to be born as Blues. If they went up against any Hylian but the weakest, they were in trouble.

So, yeah. Greg had seen many of his fellow clanmates fall to stupidity. He wasn’t going to be one of them.

At least he hoped so. Jeff might get him killed anyway. Greg didn't know why his sisters always put the two of them together for patrol duty.

Greg crept relatively silently through the bush towards the loudly chattering group of Hylians, letting out only an occasional squeal. Jeff, however, was moving as if he were a Hinox, and he was going to get them caught. Never mind Greg’s brilliant plan of sneaking up on the group of Hylians and seeing what they were up against first.

He turned to Jeff and tried to mime that he should stay here, while Greg got closer to check things out. Unfortunately, it just looked like flailing, with the occasional slap thrown in, and Jeff didn’t seem to understand. Thankfully, he seemed content to stay put. He had gotten distracted by a strange glowing blue ball halfway through Greg’s attempt at communication. Greg really didn't care, as long as Jeff shut up and didn’t move.

Greg crept further forward on his own. When he finally reached the treeline, he hid behind a fallen log, and set about observing the group.

Immediately, his malice-filled veins ran cold.

This was not an ordinary group of travelers.

The intricacies of the Hylians’ marking system were somewhat lost on Monsters as a whole, and although he prided himself on his above-average intelligence, Greg was no exception. The Bokoblin marking system was very straightforward. Those who were Red, like Greg, were the weakest. Then came the Blues, then the Blacks, the Whites, the Silvers, and then the mightiest of all Bokoblins, the Golds. It was quite simple. It telegraphed their ranks and battle prowess nicely, both to other Bokoblins, and to their enemies. Greg thought it was rather thoughtful to give their enemies a heads up on what they were going to be fighting.

Hylians were not in the habit of returning that favor. No Bokoblin had managed to really make heads or tails of their marking system. There were only a few accepted truths that all young Bokoblins are taught.

Brown was the most common coloration, and was pretty much assumed to be similar to Red Bokoblins. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the Browns, except that they were good at running away. A couple Reds could take down a Brown with no trouble.

Then there were the Whites. They were only really found near central Hyrule, near one of the Great Hylian Camps. They were much faster than the Browns and actually seemed to know what they were doing with weapons. They were also very good at sneaking. Greg knew that many camps had been wiped out by White Hylians.

Then there were the Reds. These were possibly the strangest of all the colors. Greg’s sire had told him that they were to be treated, cautiously, as allies. They never attacked Bokoblins without provocation, and they even occasionally teamed up with Bokoblins to take down the Hylians, especially the Whites.

Next up on the Hylian totem pole were the Blues. Personally, Greg thought it was weird that Hylians placed Blue above White, but Hylians as a whole were very strange. Except for a few sightings recently, Blues hadn’t been seen for many, many generations. Their legend persisted though, as they were perhaps the most consistent of all the Hylian colorations. If a Hylian had a bright blue coloring, you could assume that they would have high quality weapons, and would know what to do with them. Browns would even run towards them for protection, or so Greg was told.

They had been known for working together in large groups to bring down entire camps of Bokoblins. Greg had once been told that Bokoblins learned how to band together, and how to find safety in numbers from observing these Hylians.

And then.

And then there were the Greens.

If Blues were legendary, Greens were mythical. Sightings of them were few and very far between, which might have to do with the fact that the Bokoblins who saw them didn’t live to tell the tale. The destruction they wrought was so absolute that even if they hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years, their legend lived on.

(Greg himself had seen one, once. He had only lived because he had run away before the Green had spotted him. He usually tried not to think about it.)

So, yeah. Greg had been expecting a small group of Browns, perhaps some Whites or a Blue thrown in.

That was not what he had gotten.

This was an entire goddamn clan of Greens.

A loud yell from the pair closest to Greg covered up his shocked squeal, as his brain tried to process exactly how much danger he was in.

He could count seven Hylians in front of him, huddled around a campfire. The pair closest to him were wrestling on the ground. Distantly, Greg was reminded of how his sisters wrestled to assert dominance, but these Greens seemed to be much friendlier about it than his sisters were. They weren’t even drawing any blood. The one who currently seemed to be winning wore armor around his shoulder, and a stripe of bright blue around his neck.

That made Greg pause for a moment. Was this a Blue instead of a Green?

But no, the Hylian’s torso was covered in undeniable green.

Similarly, the one pinned under the Blue-Green wore a Red tunic, but under that, a dark Green gave him away. Perhaps the two were some sort of hybrid? The concept of hybrid Bokoblins was foreign. Bokoblins were always one color, but who knew with Hylians.

Most Hylians did not accept Reds into their groups, as they were hostile towards others of their own kind. Maybe that was why Blue-Green was wrestling with Red-Green?

A few yards away, another pair sat on a log watching the pair fight, with a third tending to a fire nearby. The two sitting on the log were the biggest Hylians Greg had seen in this group. If he had to pinpoint any of them as the leaders of this clan, it would be these two. One was covered in armor, which Greg had only seen on the most skilled Hylians, and only in small amounts. The fact that this Hylian was covered in the stuff was intimidating. Greg couldn’t really tell what color this Hylian was, as the armor covered him, but this must be the leader. He was big enough for it, and the one next to him seemed to be showing him a good amount of respect.

The Hylian sitting next to the Leader seemed more like the run-of-the-mill Green. (Not that any Green was run-of-the-mill, but whatever.) The most notable thing about him was the wolf pelt he wore around his shoulders, which did give Greg pause.

His sisters wore the skins of large animals they hunted, as a symbol of their higher status. Neither of them had a wolf pelt, though. Wolves were strong creatures, and best left alone. It could take an entire clan to take down a fully grown wolf, let alone a whole pack. The fact that this Hylian, who wasn’t even the leader of this clan, was wearing the wolf pelt so openly was clearly a warning.

The third was crouched over the fire, moving the logs around with a stick for some reason. This one was a White-Green, a long white covering over his shoulders. He was listening to the conversation between the Leader and Wolf-Pelt, occasionally adding his own thoughts.

Once Greg was able to get over his shock of seeing so many Greens in one place, he was able to see that they weren’t actually all Greens. Two of them, huddled closely together, were just wearing pale Blue. Not quite as concerning as the others, but still strong.

One of them was smaller than any of the others in the clearing. He wore a pale blue covering. Greg paused in confusion. In a group of powerful Greens, why would they tolerate a small, weak Blue? Clans could become stronger, as Greg’s was, as stronger Bokoblins were born. But if his clan was made up of Blues, and a Red was born, they would be killed or driven out. There was no room for weakness.

But then again, Hylians were very strange. Perhaps, since this Blue was obviously a youngling, they had simply not matured into their adult Green coloration? It was possible.

The youngling was crouched over a strange flat rock, held by the other Blue. Now, this one was the same size as the others in the group, and obviously an adult. The excuse of being a youngling did not apply to him.

So why….?

The Blue shifted, lifting the strange rock, and handing it off to the Youngling, joined the White-Green near the fire. As he did, Greg caught sight of a familiar symbol on the rock.

An eye.

The symbol was not strange to him. It was scattered all over the land on large black rocks. However, to see it on a smaller rock like this… seemed familiar, and not in a good way.

Greg strained his memory to try to remember when he had seen this before, and then it hit him.

He had seen this strange rock before, when Derek IV was killed. He had gone after a pair of Brown Hylians who had unwisely traveled off the road. Greg, still being quite young at that point, had hung back to see how it was done. It had gone well for a while. Derek IV chased the pair, swinging a club at them, while the Hylians screeched in fear and scrambled away.

Then, swooping down from the sky like a bird of prey, a Blue Hyalin descended. True to legend, Greg had watched the Browns scramble toward the newcomer for protection. Derek IV, likely having fallen asleep during their sire’s lessons, did not register the danger of this Hylian’s color, and ran straight towards the group.

Greg had watched in horror as his brother was cut down with graceful ease. He hadn’t even had time to squeal a battle cry before he was falling to the earth with a flaming sword buried in his side.

He continued to stare in mounting terror as the Blue bent down and harvested his brother's teeth. The Blue had even taken Derek IV’s weapon for his own before his brother finally took enough fire damage, and broke down into smoke, disappearing.

The Blue had approached the Browns, who hadn’t even looked disgusted at the looting of a body, and had instead gifted the Blue food as a token of appreciation for his protection.

Greg came to a sudden realization. This was no Blue. He was colored like one, but he was alone. According to legends, Blues came in packs, ruthlessly efficient in working together. Besides that, Greg could imagine only one color that was that efficient at killing.

Greens.

Greg didn’t know why this Green was disguised as a Blue, But he didn’t stick around to find out. The last thing he caught sight of was a strange rock on the Green’s hip, with an ominous eye on the front of it. He had booked back to the safety of his clan’s camp. Not that he harbored any delusions that anyone in his clan would survive if the Green-in-Disguise found them.

Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Greg had grown up trying desperately not to fall into the same trap of attacking first and finding out the consequences later as Derek IV had.

Now, the same strange eye symbol was back, on the same strange rock, in the possession of the same Green-in-Disguise. Well, the same clan, at least. The Youngling was still fiddling with the rock, occasionally calling out to the Green-in-Disguise. Greg could only assume it must be some type of weapon, if a Green was in possession of it.

Greg stumbled back, turning to flee. He had saved himself once by fleeing in the face of one Green, and he wouldn’t make the mistake of trying to take on seven Greens at once.

Wait- hold that thought. A rustle in the bushes on the opposite side of the clearing caught his eye. Against his better judgment, he crept back to look. If that was Jeff coming to look for him, and he stumbled into the encampment of a clan of Greens in the process, Greg was not going to be helping him.

Fortunately, (or unfortunately, Greg thought privately,) it wasn’t Jeff. It was two more Greens.

Greg felt faint, and nearly swooned on the spot as Wolf-Pelt called out in greeting to the two new arrivals.

These two new arrivals were underwhelming. They were both small. In fact, one of them was even smaller than the youngling already in the camp. His coloring was a strange mash-up of Blue, Red, and, oddly, Purple, which was a color that Greg had never heard of Hylians being. But he also had Green, plain as day. Greg had to wonder if this Four-Color was even younger than the Youngling. Maybe it wasn’t certain yet what his strength level was going to be?

The other was of a more reasonable height for a Hylian, although not as big as many of the others. He had brown coloration peeking out from underneath his green. Perhaps this was the weakest of them all? But again, if he was tolerated in this, frankly overpowered, clan of Greens, then there must be more to him than meets the eye.

But these two new arrivals, no matter how unthreatening they looked, meant the clan now numbered nine. Greg had never seen a Bokoblin clan this large, let alone a Hylian one, at least outside of the Great Hylian Camps. Normally, Hylians only traveled in small groups.

This was bad. If an entire clan of Greens had appeared in Hyrule, then the Hylians were getting stronger. He had to report this to his sisters.

With a determined grunt, Greg turned back to where he had left Jeff. He needed to collect him, and then head back. Under the circumstances, he didn’t think his sisters would care about them not finishing their patrol route.

When he arrived back to the place he left Jeff, his brother was still absorbed with kicking around that strange glowing blue ball from before. Greg didn't know what it was, but at this point he didn’t particularly care. He just wanted to get back to the slight safety of their camp.

Just as he was about to squeal at his brother that it was time to go, he heard a shout from behind him. It was one of the Greens, calling out. For a moment, Greg was worried that they had been discovered.

Then, he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

The weird glowy ball that Jeff had been playing with exploded in blue light. Before Greg could even shield his eyes against the light, it was over. The explosion had taken Jeff out in one hit. His brother's body was already disappearing into smoke, leaving nothing behind.

Greg knew they had been discovered. Somehow, this whole situation must have been a trap, and it had been set up by the Greens. They must have known that Greg was there the entire time.

These Greens were terrifying. Greg could hear Hylian footsteps moving in his direction, and booked it out of the clearing. He wasn't sticking around for them to find him. He was leaving.

At least his sisters couldn't put him with Jeff on patrol anymore.

~~~

It was a rather chilly night. The seasons were just changing in his Hyrule, splashes of reds and golds dotted here and there as some trees started to shed their leaves, and the autumn air wasn’t exactly warm or balmy.

The group usually waited until Wild was ready to make dinner to start a fire, but not tonight. Sky volunteered to collect firewood, and only stopped to set down his pack before leaving to search for kindling. Four and Hyrule also left to scout the area, and make sure there weren't any threats lingering nearby.

Wild helped Time and Twilight move some fallen logs into the clearing for makeshift benches, and then collapsed onto the nearest one. He sighed, and pulled his boots off, shaking a pebble out of the left one that had been bothering him for hours. He didn’t immediately put the boots back on, letting his feet relax after a long day of walking.

Wind settled next to him, Time and Twilight not far off. Legend and Warriors were already bickering about something or another, snarking at each other for where they were perched across the empty fire ring.

Wind sniffed next to him. “Goddess, Wild, your feet stink! Why did you take your shoes off?”

Wild very maturely stuck out his tongue at the younger hero, pointedly ignoring Time’s muttered: “Don’t encourage him, we already have one squabbling pair, we don’t need another.” Wild stuck his dirty boots back in his slate, pulling out one of his cleaner pairs. Wind, forgetting the apparent stench, shifted closer in interest.

“So, how many different sets of clothing do you keep in there?” Wild shifted to show Wind his slate, swiping through the armor and clothing he accumulated on his journey.

“So, this is the Sheikah stealth set. It’s the first set of clothes I bought after waking up from my shrine. I got it in Kakariko. Before that, I was basically wearing a set of rags I found in my Shrine.”

A rustle from across the clearing drew Wild’s attention as Wind continued to poke at the slate. It was just Sky, carrying an armful of wood. Before the Skyloftian could start to set up the fire, Warriors took things one jeer too far, causing Legend to leap across the pit, tackling him off his log. Sky didn’t even do a double-take, ignoring the two wrestling near the side of the clearing, and started to get the fire going.

Next to Wild, Time and Twilight were watching the fight with interest. Twilight turned to Time. “Should we stop them?”

Time shrugged. “They’re not actually hurting each other, are they? Think of it as hand-to-hand combat training.” Twilight stared at Time as Legend got pinned underneath Warriors, and screeched, biting his hand in retaliation.

Time stared back. There was a moment of silence, before Time spoke again. “Fifty rupees that Legend wins.”

Twilight sighed, returning his gaze to the fighting pair. “You’re just as bad as the others sometimes, you know that?” Time just raised an eyebrow in question. Twilight groaned, defeated. “I’ll take that bet.”

Wild snorted. Twilight liked to pretend that he was less of a gremlin than the rest of them, but really, he just hid it better.

“Hey, isn’t that what the Warriors was teasing you about the other day?” Wind’s question brought Wild’s attention back to his slate. Showing on the screen was the Gerudo set, displayed on the digital form of Wild himself. “Wait, it’s yours?”

Wild’s hand darted out, covering the younger boy's mouth. “You will tell no one about this.” He hissed, eyes darting around the clearing, checking to see if anyone had heard. It looked like he was in the clear. It wasn’t that he was particularly ashamed of wearing those clothes, but he would rather spare himself the teasing he knew would be imminent if the group found out.

Wind batted his hand away from his mouth, grinning at him mischievously. “Okay, I won’t.” Wild waited, not believing that it would be that easy. “You have to make seafood curry for dinner though.” Wild hummed, considering. It wasn’t as bad as he thought Wind was going to demand.

“Alright,” He acquiesced. He was planning on making Creamy Vegetable Soup tonight, but he thought seafood curry was just as good. It was no trouble for him to switch up the menu. He had a couple of nice Progys in his slate they needed to eat anyways. He would have done this even if Wind just asked him, though, so he wasn’t sure why-

“But you have to make it spicy.” Wind insisted. Ah, there it was.

“Sure.” He shrugged. Most of the others wouldn’t be pleased. Seafood Curry had a lot of goron spice in it, at least it did the way Wild liked to make it. Wind, Legend, Four, and himself were the only ones in the group who could handle spice. He and Wind had grown up eating spicy food, and Legend traveled to very distant lands, building up a tolerance to all sorts of spices. Four could only tolerate spice occasionally. (It varied. Sometimes he couldn’t even handle a spiced meat skewer, and sometimes he inhaled the spiciest food Wild could make. It was very strange.) Most of the others in the group had low spice tolerance.

Usually, Wild acknowledged that fact in his cooking, and cut back on the spice, but since Wind was asking…

Well, he certainly wouldn’t complain.

He handed the slate off to Wind, rising to join Sky next to the fire, to make sure it was at the right temperature for seafood curry.

Another rustle from the bushes around the clearing drew his attention to the returning Hyrule and Four.

“Anything to report, boys?” It was Twilight who called out, as Time was still snickering at the sulking Warriors and his own purse, now fifty rupees heavier.

“Nothing of importance,” It was Four who answered, coming to sit next to Time. “There’s a stream a few minutes away, and we found a set of Bokoblins footprints, but they were days old.”

“Good, now we should-“ Wild’s attention was drawn away from both the fire and Twilight’s response by a call from Wind.

“Hey, Wild! What does this button do?” That sentence made dread well up in Wild’s stomach. There were only so many buttons to push on the slate, and Wild’s mind flashed back to a very crucial detail that he had forgotten.

He spun around, nearly hitting Sky with the stick he had been using to poke the fire. He could barely get out a shrieked “Wait!” Before there was an ominous click, a moment of tense silence, then-

BOOM.

Right. The bomb he had dropped earlier, and had forgotten to dissipate.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling all the world like he was every one of his one hundred and seventeen years. He let out a slow breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Was this what Twilight felt like all the time? He needed to go easier on his mentor.

“That button explodes things, Wind.”

A silent, judgmental stare from Time told him to fix the mess he’d created. With a huff, he heaved himself to his feet, and motioned for Wind to follow him. “Come on, kid. Let’s go do damage control.”

~~~

A/N: You know, writing this made me headcanon that Bokoblins have truly excellent color vision.

Anyways, here's what all the colors mean;

Brown: Average Traveler // White: Sheikah // Red: Yiga // Blue: Hyrule’s Military // Green: Heroes

Blue-Green: Warriors // Red-Green: Legend // White-Green: Sky // The Leader: Time // Wolf-Pelt: Twilight // Youngling: Wind // Green-in-Disguise: Wild // Brown-Green: Hyrule // Four-Color: Four

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.

Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k

Ugh.

How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.

Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.

You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.

The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.

This was why you only visited New York City.

"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.

There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.

Rami fucking Malek.

He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.

"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.

You both laughed, softly, and looked away.

You took another drag.

"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.

"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.

"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."

"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"

"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."

"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.

You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?

"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.

You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.

"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."

"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"

He handed the cigarette back to you.

"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."

"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."

"How do you like the big screen life so far?"

"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."

He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.

"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."

He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.

"Which was it for you?"

"Hm?"

A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.

"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"

"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."

"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."

"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.

You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.

"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.

He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.

A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.

"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.

The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."

He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."

You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.

Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?

You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.

"Will you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."

#rami malek x reader #rami malek

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eternallyhyucks · 3 years

Text

sweet as molasses | mark lee

pairing: college bf! mark x college gf! reader

word count: 1.06k

genre/warnings: angst, swearing

summary: in which you confront mark for not treating you the way you want to be treated in your relationship

—note: listen to molasses by alec bailey while reading (if you want, of course)

𖤐 ྀ

you sat on the floor of your apartment with your head in your arms and tears streaking down your face.

he did it again. he left you alone again. he promised he wouldnt, but it was really you who was at fault right? you were the one who believed him again. you thought maybe he changed, that maybe he would keep his promise this time. but as usual, he didnt and now you were back to sitting on the cold tiles of your apartment’s floor crying until you physically couldnt anymore.

you stared into the darkness of your kitchen and decided that it was time to end it. you couldnt do this anymore. he would continue to hurt you and you knew that this was not how you wanted to be treated.

you heard mark walk inside and take off his shoes as you silently stood in the kitchen you had previously shared so many happy memories with him in. he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek. “hi baby, sorry im late, but im here now! thats all that matters right” he said smiling

you almost melted into him like you always did, but you fought through and peeled his arms off of you, turning to face him. “mark i cant do this anymore” you say quickly

he furrowed his brows, confused. “what do you mean? im sorry im late, but i didnt mean to be” he said taking one of your hands and drawing circles on your palm

pulling your hand away, you say, “no mark, you either never show up when you promise, or you’re late. it’s one thing if it happens occasionally, but it’s constantly happening. you’re always lifting my hopes up just to break it later. you always make up these elaborate excuses and i always let them slide because i CARE about you, mark. i dont know if you do this on purpose because im not worth your time or just cause you’re some insanely popular kid, but im not here for it anymore, mark. im over it.”

sighing, mark looks you in the eyes and says “i know y/n. i know im terrible. im really bad at this. i know i am. i know i make you these promises and break them later with stupid excuses, but when i make you promises, i always make them with the intention of fulfilling them, y/n, i do”

“then why do you always break them” you say quietly, now staring at the floor

“because ive never done this. i dont know how to do this properly. and i DO care about you! i really, genuinely do. i just dont know what to do with my feelings, this is all so new to me. just please, please dont leave me y/n”

“mark i cant stay with you anymore. i understand that you arent doing this on purpose and it’s nice to know that now, but i dont want to be in a relationship like this if it continues to be the the way it’s been”

“please y/n, give me another chance, ill change, i swear i will” mark pleads

with tears falling down your cheeks you do your best to keep your voice from cracking and speak up once more. “im sorry. maybe now isnt the time for us. if we’re meant to be together, we will be. now isnt our time, mark”

“no. no, no, no. we can make it our time, i refuse to end it like this.” he said shaking his head

“and i refuse to keep going like we have been, mark. im so tired of crying every single fucking day after waiting for you to maybe show up. do you know how many times ive looked like a fucking fool waiting for you at restaurants ??? people looked at me with those stupid sorry eyes and all i could do was smile at them and act like everything was okay when it wasnt. it isnt fucking okay mark. im sorry that you arent good at this. i hope that you can fix the stuff you’ve done wrong with me with any other girl you’re with, but please just promise me that you arent with anyone until you do, because i dont want anyone to feel the things i have felt”

“im starting to feel like you didnt really care about me y/n. you seem to really hate me for being such a shitty boyfriend.”

“i could never hate you, mark. you were the first boy i had a real relationship with. you brought me so much happiness, but it just got lost somewhere along the way?”

“lost? y/n it got locked in some box that had no key” he scoffed

“hey dont say that! you’ll find that key one day and then you’ll be able to make someone else the happiest girl on the planet. someone who deserves it.”

“but what if i only want to make you the happiest girl on the planet? then what?” he said quietly

taken aback, you paused.

“then wait” you paused again. “but you dont have to, mark. there are billions of girls out there who could treat you better AND who you could treat better. just take some time for yourself before any of that, yeah?”

“yeah ..” he said sighing

you stood up a little taller and began making your way out of the apartment, but before you could take another step forward mark called out for you again.

“baby”

you stop walking. “mark you cant call me that anymore ..”

“i know, but i wanted to one last time”

laughing you walk to the door and open it

“friends?”

“friends.”

and just like that, you ended it with the love of your life.

©eternallyhyucks

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ceilingfan5 · 3 years

Note

for the au thing i don’t know if it counts but i want more facts about the teacher au

you’re INDULGING ME I KNOW THIS but im gonna LET YOU bc i CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THIS AU

LET’S GO

1. taako never intended to be a teacher, he just sort of fell into it bc of a job he had in college, and then he started subbing and he was like. oh shit. oh. oh man. i could do this. and SWITCHED HIS DEGREE AT LIKE THE LAST MINUTE AND HAD TO DO A LOT MORE SCHOOL but he was SO MUCH FUCKING HAPPIER

2. part of the reason he got into it tho is that he was considered a “challenging kid” and he has So Many complaints about his teachers throughout the years. of which there were many bc he and lup got shifted around so fucking much, which didnt help with him being an absolute little shit who just needed someone to notice he needed support

3. he had a whole ass identity crisis when he student taught, and he was so scared, like. am i gonna fuck these kids up?? am i going to ruin their tiny little futures??? he actually started in middle school and went younger when he Had To Get Out of a job and he was like fuck it it’s only one year, i can find another school when this year is over if i have to BUT HE FUCKING LOVED IT!!!!! THESE TINY PEOPLE ADORE HIM!!! AAAH

4. he loves teaching them big words he loves teaching them weird shit to say to their parents he loves wearing weird shit to school he loves getting drawings he loves watching the lightbulbs come on he loves watching them learn to read he loves completely abandoning the lesson plan and doing a whole day on a weird question he loves saying batshit nonsense and backing it up he loves getting down with them and playing aaahh

5. also in this au kravitz works at a casino!!! ive done kravitz as a high school teacher in the past but i thought this would be fun also. he has a lot of fun with it and it’s both nice and hard that he works later in the day. like in the minific he could bring taako lunch!!! but then it’s hard that sometimes taako has to go to bed without him. it’s a tradeoff. he works in guest satisfaction and gets lots of gifts from his high rollers and fucking loves to treat taako and take him out to nice restaurants and stuff!!! idk how they met in this one but it was something stupid and theyve been head over heels ever since. everyone was like. oh my god thats not going to work. but it DID so THERE!!!! krav loves to listen to taako gush or complain about his kids and his day and hes so supportive and full of love fuck i love them so much guys

PLOT TWIST! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE BUT IM FUCKING NOT!!!!!!! @herbgerblin mentioned taako with tiny WIZARD STUDENTS can you IMAGINE!!!! FUCK!!!! SAME AU BUT MAGICER 1. they all have tiny wizard hats and lil safety star wands and taako complains every year that that shit is on the supply list but then they show up on day one all excited and vibrating and he has to try really hard not to cry about it

2. he still teaches fucking math and reading and science and art and shit FUCK a certain particular series. education rules. also i care so fuckin much about this listen i have an original story about a teacher in a super power universe and shes a villain but you probably didnt want to hear about that youre here for taz but if you want to press that button you’re fuckin in for it pal (ailem i know you personally love that particular thing and i love you) but THIS IS ABOUT TAZ

3. GOD that would be so stressful ALSO having to teach magic?? jesus when is there time for intervention?? FUCK! but LISTEN!!!! teaching 25 little tiny kids cantrips and shit!!! oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! draw a picture of your handsome teacher with mage hand everybody!!! no! handsomer!!!!!!!! jamie you’re doing perfectly sweetie

4. this could have gone in the top half and would have made more sense but first draft only draft amirite BUT taako’s so fucking good with the “challenging students” bc he GETS them and especially in this au tweest he’s so good at calming a kid whos like. getting overwhelmed and having like a magic storm and like other teachers might be like god i cant believe i had to deal with another tantrum today and taakos meanwhile like sat on the floor with the kid and calmed them down and reminded them he’s there and made them laugh and cool down

sidenote listen maybe they arent all wizards. or dnd wizards. sit down. let’s talk about the class system. i have a lot of thoughts actually. what do you MEAN you want me to move on

5. IMAGINE MAGIC PROJECT BASED LEARNING!!!! FUCK!!! IMAGINE LETTING THE KIDS LOOSE ON THE PLAYGROUND TO PLAY MAGIC TAG BUT HE STARTS AS IT!!!!!!!!! IMAGINE A KID WHO STRUGGLES W READING FINDING THEIR FOOTING IN MAGIC AND TAAKO BEING SO FUCKING PROUD AND USING IT AS A WINDOW TO GET THEM TO LIKE STORIES!!!!!!! IMAGINE

okay im calm.

#idk what to tag this as but i love u #thank u for letting me go off

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

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FIC: Syverson the Protector Pt 4

* Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part III (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Summary: You are an embedded journalist and on a mission, everything goes wrong. The two of you have made it to safety and now it’s time for the healing to begin.

Rating for this part: Budding romance, Fluff, medical related content, I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone. I expect to have at most, two more parts, 5 and concluding in 6.

Word count: 2293

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Lying flat on his back, Syverson stared morosely at the ceiling and listened to the gentle thwapping sounds of the bedside machine that was currently and eagerly siphoning fluids out of his intestines. He let his mind tick over what the machine was actually doing to him and blearily considered why he wasn’t in constant pain from the electronic manipulation of his own vulnerable flesh.

Surely those plastic tubes driven into his guts should hurt, right?

Sure, you’re right, his mind chattered, a little giddy to be imparting an unknown bit of information, but consider this: morphine – a wounded man’s best friend.

My best friend, he thought and then as if the devil knew it was being called, another machine beeped and a flood of soft luscious haziness rushed into his bloodstream and he immediately relaxed. This tired mind drifted and it didn’t take long for him to slip back into sleep.

Hours later, Syverson startled out of a clinging and sticky dream with a desperate gasp. He felt hot all over, stiff and aching and the very thought of trying to move elicited a terrible pain response. Hot, oily bile crept up in his throat and his mouth watered in that awful familiar process of preparing him to violently empty his stomach.

I have to sit up, his brain screamed. I have to sit up. I don’t want to puke still lying on my back!

A broad cool hand pressed down on his chest and another closed about his shoulder. Someone was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the heavy veiling fog that enveloped him. He tried to speak to the person, and tried to tell them that he was going to be sick.

‘It’s ok, Henry,’ a voice was telling him. ‘You’re ok. I’ll help you roll onto your side if you need to vomit.’

Swallowing jerkily, throat working hard to force the urge back down, Syverson clamped his teeth and shook his head.

‘All right. How about we move you a bit. Are you ok with that?’

Move? God no. I can’t bear that. Moving meant pain.

He shook his head again, but the warm voice came back to him, sounding much more insistent this time.

‘I can help you, Henry, or I’ll put the positioner in bed with you and it will make you move. We want to prevent pressure sores, remember?’

Syverson took in a breath and after a moment nodded to show that he understood. When the man leaned in close, Syverson could smell his cologne. It was a pleasant and fresh woodsy scent that reminded him of his cabin back home. A sudden homesick ache tightened his chest and tears wet his dry eyes. He didn’t like feeling that way, but everything seemed to be out of his control now. He hated it.

Nevertheless, he put his arms around the man’s shoulders and gritted his teeth when his body was repositioned and stretched out again on the stiff mattress.

He gasped and couldn’t believe how out of breath such a small exertion had left him. But, he noted, he did feel better and the nausea had subsided.

The urge to eat suddenly struck him and he blinked up at the nurse.

‘What time is it?’ he rasped, voice rusty from disuse.

‘You hungry?’ asked the nurse with a grin.

‘Yeah, I could eat,’ he answered, wriggling a little to get more comfortable in the pillows under his head.

‘I can get you something, but it’s after breakfast and not quite lunch.’

Syverson nodded. He didn’t care. He just wanted to eat.

‘Fries and a coke, then,’ he said closing his eyes and grinning a little.

The nurse laughed and gently patted his shoulder condescendingly. With the state of Syverson’s gut, there was no way he was going to survive ingesting any amount of carbonation. That little fact didn’t stop the cravings though.

‘I’ll see if there’s some soup still left. I think it’s chicken.’

When he was alone again, the memories came back. After the jeep explosion, he was sure that he was going to die out in that sandy wasteland. Had it not been for you, he was sure that he would have died. Had it not been for the beautiful, plucky reporter, some stony faced military man would be paying his parents a visit to inform them of their youngest son’s passing and that his body would be flown home for burial.

Instead, he had been saved. And when he found that you’d been housed in the civilian wing of the hospital, he wanted to see you. He wanted to thank you for saving his life. When visiting you was denied, considering the fragile state of the both of you, Syverson had instructed that the well stocked gift shop be bought out and carted to your room, all with his heartfelt thanks.

He owed you his life. A few flowers and a couple of teddy bears was the least he could do.

The plastic and faux wood table rattled next to him and snapped Syverson out of his muse. He opened his eyes and watched as the nurse positioned the table over his bed and put down a ceramic bowl of steaming soup. He groaned and strained a little to help himself up into a sitting position.

The nurse was distracted and looking down into his other hand.

‘I ran into your girlfriend’s nurse in the hallway and she gave me this to give to you.’

God, he sounded so smug and Syverson wanted to punch him square in the face.

Girlfriend?

His brain searched for a face to put to the name but came up empty. He’d broken up with his ex more than five years ago, right before his latest deployment. And then it clicked.

The reporter. You.

The nurse handed the card to Syverson and upon seeing it, his heart sank. It was the same envelope that he’d sent along with the gifts. Had you refused his outpouring of affection? He slowly opened the envelope and breathed out with relief when he saw the new message that had been written for him.

He didn’t want to smile at the note in front of the gossipy nurse, as he didn’t want to encourage any nonsense rumours, so he kept his elated reaction to himself. But inside his heart soared and the soup tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten before.

The day that you both championed and dreaded finally arrived. The day you could get out of bed on your own and walk down to the men’s wing to pay your captain a visit. He had come a long way, you’d heard from the nurse, but would still have trouble doing any taxing travelling. However you were well enough to make the trip.

‘That is, if you still want to,’ said your nurse with a glint in her eye.

Oh, she thinks she’s funny, does she?

You sighed luxuriously and stretched back on your pillows. You’d managed to wrangle an extra set so that you could prop yourself up like a royal lady taking in visitors for the afternoon. You ran the edge of your thumbnail across the thick scar skirting the side of your left palm, scratching it lightly but thoroughly. You had recently had your bandages removed and the sight of your hands was shocking. The backs of your hands had taken the brunt of the burns and they were wrinkled with scar tissue which butted up against new skin growth. A daily cream was a must to keep the tissue from tightening up and preventing normal usage of your hand. You scooped up a handful of the waxy smelling stuff and massaged it into your hands as your nurse watched you expectantly.

Her expression fell a bit when you didn’t answer right away.

Serves her right, you thought, casually kneading fingertips into the palm of your opposite hand.

‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’ve changed your mind.’

She picked at a bright yellow rose bud that had fallen off of one of the new crops of flower bouquets. Henry had made sure to keep you flush with fresh beautiful flowers. You had to draw the line at the character balloons, and had to tell him that he should stop sending them because the hollow sounds of them knocking together at night was creepy and it kept you awake.

‘I haven’t changed my mind, Barb,’ you said and gave her a smile.

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to see him again.

‘Well, good. He’s been asking after you… like… constantly now.’

You said nothing, but a tiny grin stretched your lips.

Constantly?

‘We can whip out the chair and wheel you over there after lunch.’

Your heart leaped with sudden and visceral terror.

It’s soon. So soon. Too soon! Today?

You swallowed hard and felt your face heat with uncertain embarrassment.

‘S-sure.’

‘Ok, I’ll reserve one and be back in a few hours.’

Barb turned around and left the room. You could hear her chuckling as if this matchmaking was the best thing that had happened to her all year.

You sat up in bed, greasy hands limp in your lap and you made a face when you sniffed at yourself under your hospital gown. No way were you going to present yourself to Henry, or anyone else who would be in the day room, looking like you’d been in an accident.

Heaven forfend.

So, you washed carefully and put on the pale peach coloured long-sleeved pyjama set you’d received from the Ladies’ Supply. The Ladies’ Supply was an organisation of volunteer women who ensured the dignity and comfort of women at the military hospital through social visits, clothing donations and other feminine needs.

You did your hair the best you could and whiled away the hours until you heard the squeaky wheelchair being rolled into your room. With heart crashing excitedly against your ribs, you perched delicately on it and Barb rolled you away.

The day room was spacious and welcoming and abuzz with activity. Some of the men were still hooked to IVs and sitting by the wide windows and others who were more capable were dispersed amongst the tables either reading or playing cards or just talking with each other. There were also some women in there, so you didn’t feel like you were entering the lion’s den. You spotted Henry by one of the card tables and you wanted to put your feet down on the floor to stop Barb from rolling you right up to his side. Unfortunately, you didn’t do it in time and when you squeaked to an unceremonious halt at the edge of the table, he glanced up from his cards.

The look on his face when he recognised you was one that you would store in your memory for an eternity. He put the cards face down on the table and made to stand up. You immediately put up your hands to stop him.

‘No, no, don’t get up, you don’t–‘

But, he had already struggled to push himself up and out of the chair and you didn’t want to take that victory from him. You stood up as well, ready to give a firm friendly handshake, or a paltry pat on the shoulder but he had other intentions. He dragged you into his arms, and crushed you to his meaty chest, before you could manage to say, hello.

When he finally let you go, you both went back to your respective seats, feeling overwhelmed by the perfect greeting.

Grinning at him, you made a gesture to your own head.

‘Your hair… it’s all curly!’

The last time you’d seen him, his hair was shorn right to the head, and there was really no hint as to the texture or really even the true colour. So it surprised you to see a neatly clipped mop of glossy brown curls. Henry put a self conscious hand into his hair and ruffled his fingers through it.

‘I like it,’ you assured him, hoping to put him at ease. ‘I like it a lot.’

Grabby hair, your brain chittered. Perfect length for grabbing.

With that the two men who had been playing cards with him at the table, picked up and left, taking the not so subtle hint that they should leave the two of you alone.

‘I’m glad to see you. Finally,’ he said, wincing a little when he shifted in the chair.

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, reaching out to put your hands over his on the table.

‘I’m getting over it,’ he said, dodging the question effortlessly.

He turned his hands up to hold onto yours and you felt as shy as a virgin on a first date. So, what could you do but make a joke the break the tension.

‘I mean… if I had to get blown up to get a date with you in a hospital day room, don’t know if I would do it again. Ehh, I probably would.’

Your eyes swept up to his and he stared at you a moment, puzzled and when you gave him a little hesitant smile, Henry started to laugh. The sound it lit you up with happiness and then the awkwardness was broken.

You spent about an hour chatting and if you were honest, most of it was spent flirting, until you started to feel tired.

You didn’t want to overstay your welcome and he seemed disappointed (much to your juvenile delight) when you said that you were leaving.

‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, big blue eyes bright and eager, his hands unwilling to let you go again.

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

-End part 4

#henry cavill #captain syversion #syverson x you #henry cavill x you #captain syverson x you #syverson the protector #reader insert

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

Text

Emergency! Part 3

Summary: A woman comes back from her trip from Asia but isn’t feeling the best. And is rushed to the hospital. Her symptoms are that of the flue, but worse than. The virus spreads throughout the hospital, Jack falls ill collapsing in the break room. Dean falls ill on a rescue, Cas having to rescue the original victim and his partner. The reader, having to sit by and wait and pray for her friends pull through. But turns out the original patient with the virus got better, now her body has the antibodies to fight the virus.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 4,262

Warnings: Scary Situations, Language, Mild Angst, Fluff.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I could use the corona virus or COVID-19 but decided to use the virus used in the Emergency! Episode of the same name. The virus being a strain of the Asian flu during a bad outbreak in the late 60’s. Also the drugs and measure mentioned are probably not accurate, I’m not a pharmacist.

a/n2: D.O.N = Director of Nursing, DOA = Dead on Arrival, BP = Blood Pressure, O2 Sat = Oxygen Saturation

“Dean,” Cas says, walking into the fire stations garage.

Dean was logging supplies in the squad truck when he heard Cas enter and got his attention.

“What’s up Cas?”

“When you started dating Y/N, when did you know she was the one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I really like Meg, and when she was taking care of me after that accident of mine I found that she and I have a lot in common and I want to know her more?”

“Well, Cas, it’s different for other people. Just ask Meg out. Talk to her, find out stuff about her that she likes, hates, and if you can find yourself still able to love her despite her flaws. Keep it going. Keep taking her out.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Nothing in life is simple man.”

Cas nods in agreement.

The alarm sounded in the station.

“Squad 51, someone sick. Respond. 226 south Jasper’s Avenue, cross street South Walker boulevard.”

“Back at it again.” Cas says.

“Let’s hit it.”

Dean getting into his usual spot in the squad, revving the engine to life and heading to the location.

When they arrived, another station had arrived originally.

Dean and Cas gathered their tools and headed into the residence.

“Chuck, what do you got?” Cas asked.

“Kelly McMeyers, 22, her dad said she was fine at breakfast.”

They followed Fireman Chuck through the house to the girl’s bedroom to find her on her bed, sweating, pale and in obvious discomfort and pain.

Dean placed a hand on her head.

“She’s burning up, Cas, get the thermometer.”

Cas did as told handing the thermometer to Dean.

Dean placed in the girls mouth, under her tongue. Cas handing him the blood pressure cuff.

Dean began checking her Blood pressure.

“Get the radio, we need to tell the hospital.” Dean orders.

Cas, pulls out the radio of it’s holster on his belt.

“Rampart, this is rescue 51. Rampart this is rescue five one.” Cas radios in.

It was a normal slow day at the hospital, y/n having finished her charting, getting reading for her lunch break.

“Rampart this is rescue 51,” she heard Cas’s voice over the radio. “Rampart this is rescue Five one.”

She picks up the hand piece to the hospital’s radio to respond.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart we have a female, Kelly McMeyers, 22 years of age.” Cas transmits.

“BP is 129 over 80, O2 Saturation is…”

Dean places a hand over her chest, watching it rise and fall. Counting in his head. But scolding with the low number he came up with.

“Did you pack the pulse Oximeter?”

“I did.” Cas says, handing it to him.

“I got to double check before I give you the wrong number.”

Dean turned on the device, and placing it on her finger.

“Still reading low, O2 Sat, 85.” Dean says.

“O2 sat is 85. Temperature is coming up…”

Dean pulls out the thermometer.”

“105.” He reads.

“Temperature is 105.”

y/n was shocked she had a temperature that high.

“51, standby, a doctor will be with you shortly.”

“10-4.”

“I just don’t understand, she was fine at breakfast, it happened so suddenly.” The girl’s father expressed.

“Some of these things do happen rather quickly.”

“Could be the Asian Flu?” Chuck suggests. Playing with the girl’s pet monkey.

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions until a doctor can see her.” Cas says.

“Kelly, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean asks.

The girl nods groggily.

“She’s really drowsy.” Cas mentions.

“Kelly, are you in any pain at all?” Dean asks.

“My head hurts, my chest hurts too.” She whines.

“She threw up a bit before you got here Winchester.” Chuck mentions.

“51, this is doctor Singer.”

“Rampart, we have new information, patient is experiencing head and chest pain, she’s drowsy and vomited a few times before we arrived.”

“Alright, start IV, lidocaine, two milligrams. And just in case what she has is contagious keep contact with the patient to an absolute minimum.”

“10-4 Rampart.” Cas says.

“I’ll get the IV going, if you want to get the ambulance here Chuck.”

“Already ahead of you, they should be here by now.”

Sirens are heard in the distance, as if on cue.

“How about that timing?” Cas says.

“Alright, she’s set, lets get her to the hospital.” Dean says.

Just as more paramedics came in, Dean grabbed the equipment as Cas walked out with the patient.

Chuck still petting the monkey.

“I love monkeys, bet he’d be a cute pet to have.” He says.

“Yeah, but they’re not meant to be pets Chuck.”

“Yeah, I know. But, cute little guy, isn’t he?”

The monkey sat on his pole that stood in the room. And the monkey started walking over to Dean, walking on his shoulder, messing with his hat.

“Hey, stop,” he told the monkey while trying to shake him off gently.

The monkey got back on his pole as Dean walked out to the squad.

At the hospital, Y/N, Doctor Singer assisted in the patient, Kelly McMeyer, as Doctor Singer preformed a spinal tap.

Just as he pulled out the needle, gathering spinal fluid, Doctor Kline walks in.

“What’d you got Bobby?”

“Possible strain of the flu, her symptoms are consistent with that of the Asian flu, but the incubation period is too fast. Her symptoms came up quick, she was fine at breakfast.”

“Do we know where she’s been lately?”

“All over southeast Asia, Kelly and her friends were part of her church’s mission trip in assisting kids in orphanages, and adoption homes. Fixing them up, helping kids get adopted. And her dad took her camping when she got back. Took her to the Black Hills in South Dakota.” y/n explained.

“That opens us up to a whole array of fevers, and of course flus. China is always riddled with noval viruses we’ve never seen nor dealt with. And of course, there’s ones we’ve dealt with her, rocky mountain spotted fever, lymes disease, or even parasitic infections. Fungal infections that could have originated from her camping trip.” Jack explained.

“Did Kelly have any kind of protection on either trip?” Jack asked.

“Her dad made sure she packed, bug spray, tick spray, and they had nets around their camp to prevent nats and other flying insects from getting in the tents.” Y/N says.

“So, in which case, we’re back to, what did she catch when she was in China. Because chances of her getting anything on the camping trip are slim I’m guessing.”

“Her dad was pretty adamant that they were covered for their trip. He didn’t want anyone getting sick.”

Jack nods.

“Let’s get some blood work, see if we can’t find the answer in there.”

“You got it doctor.” y/n says, getting her hands sanitized, and ready to draw some blood.

“Dean, your shift was done an hour ago, go home!” His father ordered.

“Just finishing up the logs for the day.”

“Cas can finish it up for you, he at least goes home in an hour. Now go.”

“Yes sir, you sure you got this man?” Dean asks.

“Dean, I got it. Go home and rest. See you in two days.”

Dean handed Cas the papers for logging their day, what all happened, their end result. He grabbed the keys to his Impala and drove on home.

He could tell he was exhausted. At a stop light he had to really will himself to stay awake just a few more miles.

But as he got to another stop light, he knew he was too tired to be driving.

Y/N’s apartment wasn’t far. He moved lanes before her street came up and Dean drove to her apartment. Giving her a call to make sure she was either up or home.

“Hey Handsome, how was your day?” she asked.

He could hear the background of the hospital.

“Exhausting. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah, another late one. Why? Are you in the area?” she asked. Sounding concerned.

“I’m really exhausted, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it home. I was thinking on crashing at your place.”

“You can stay there Dean; my key is by my hanging plant. I think your clothes from last time are still there.”

“Thanks baby, where would I be without you?”

“Dead in a ditch because you’ve run yourself ragged, now hurry to my place and get to bed. I’ll home when I can.”

“Love you sweetheart.” He says with a tired smile, pulling into her apartment complex.

“Love you more Winchester, sleep well.” She says.

He parked his car near where she parked. Walking up tiredly up to her apartment he found her key easily.

He headed inside, placing the key back but also locking up behind him as he got himself settled.

She had since gotten a new apartment since the plane crash; sure she was farther away from the hospital, but she was closer to him by several blocks.

He had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little bit better, but he climbed into his side in her bed. Pulling the covers over him, and falling fast asleep once his head hit the pillow.

She had hurried with her charting, her replacement nurse coming in late. But at least she showed up.

She hurried to her car to get on home.

She saw Dean’s car parked next to her spot on the street. She parked her car right behind his.

She quietly entered the apartment. Leaving the lights off she navigated to her room seeing his sleeping form in her bed. Sound asleep.

She made her shower quick and simple, washing off the stress of the day and relaxing enough so she could fall easily asleep.

She climbs into bed beside him. He tossed, turning towards her, wrapping his arms around her.

Poor dude was exhausted. But Dean was no fool, he loved being the little spoon. Maybe too much. But when it was her, he didn’t care too much.

Days followed, and the original patient began to go downhill. Her fever wasn’t breaking.

Y/N had finished getting Kelly’s vitals, updated her chart. She headed back out to the nurses station when she saw an ambulance dropping off a new patient.

“What do we have?” she asked.

“Fireman, Chuck Shirley. Stricken with a fever, 104 temp, slightly elevated BP.” One of the paramedics informed.

“He was fine at lunch time.” His wife said behind the paramedics.

“Are you his wife?” Y/N asked.

“I am, my name’s Becky.”

“Okay, I’ll escort you to the waiting room. I’ll keep you informed of your husbands situation.” y/n told her.

Becky nodded, and she was lead to the waiting room. Y/N walked back into one of the exam rooms.

Hours passed as the doctors looked over Chuck, they learned one thing in common.

He responded to Kelly McMeyers.

“I want everyone who responded to get checked out. Clearly we are up against something contagious.” Jack orders.

“I’ll get right on it.” y/n says.

As the day wore on, Y/N had called all the stations that responded, the ambulance and even called up her boyfriend personally.

“Afternoon beautiful.” Dean answers.

“Hey babe, you responded on the Kelly McMeyers right?”

“I did, me and Cas both, why?”

“Chuck Shirley is sick with the same symptoms as Kelly, and Dr. Kline has ordered you two to come in and get checked out.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Dean, Chuck looked bad. Come in, please.” She practically whined.

“Okay, I will. Don’t worry sweetheart. I have to come down for supplies anyway, I’ll bring Cas along.”

“Thank you. See you soon.”

Just as Dean and Cas left the hospital after giving their blood samples to be checked for any virus or uprising in white blood cell count. Questions rose to how and where the original patient got sick.

“Whatever this Kelly chick has must be bad.” Dean says as he drove back to the station.

“Must be, if she didn’t get while camping then where?” Cas asks.

For a beat there was a pause.

“The same place where she got her pet monkey.” Cas says.

“You really think that monkey is the carrier?” Dean asks, unsure.

“Think about it Dean. It’s always animals in other countries that carry all these scary viruses. Swine flu came from pigs. Avian flu came from birds. The Asian flu came from, well, Asia but it was ducks. What if, this monkey one of those viruses and was somehow able to transmit it overseas?” Cas explained.

“You should really be a doctor something, damn Cas.” Dean says, impressed with the information Cas was able to share.

“Also think of the movie Outbreak.”

“Dude, that wasn’t even a real virus.”

“No, but it was a real situation that can really happen. It’s the worst case scenario. But it was a monkey carrying a mutated version of the virus.”

“I think you’re onto something Cas.” Dean says, digging around in his pockets.

“Here, call my girlfriend, tell her what you told me.”

“Okay.” Cas says.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Cas, you got a minute?”

“How’s Dean?” she asked concerned right away.

“Oh, he’s fine, we were just talking about the victims. She brought home a pet monkey from China. And Chuck was playing with it.”

“That is actually something Cas, thanks. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Not really, but just for the fact that this monkey might carry a virus that could kill Kelly and our friend.”

“And you’re spot on, on that. I’ll tell Jack and Bobby. Thanks Cas.”

At the hospital, the two doctors were at the nurses station when Cas called. Their attention on her when she seemed surprised with the information he given her.

“Cas of squad 51 just told me Kelly brought home a pet monkey from China. And that Chuck played with it.”

“That’s something, Bobby, get someone to go with Kelly’s dad back to his house. Get the monkey and bring the little guy in.”

“You got it Jack.”

Cas had handed Dean his phone back.

“You know, Cas,” he says.

Cas doesn’t say anything but has his attention.

“I kind of played with the monkey too.”

The next following day, Kelly was slowly getting better. But Chuck was taking a turn for the worse. His fever wasn’t breaking.

Jack goes into Kelly’s room to talk to her about her monkey.

A nurse was already in the room taking care of her.

“Abaddon why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

“Oh, sorry Doctor its just—”

“No excuses, you’re taking an unnecessary risk. Not only would you be putting your life at risk, you’re putting everyone else’s lives at risk as well.”

With that she put her mask over her mouth and nose.

“Kelly,” Jack says.

She opened her eyes slowly giving the doctor his attention.

“We got your pet down in the lab. Now, was he ever sick when you had him?”

“Yes, just after I bought him. He had a bad cold, and threw up a bit too.”

“Well in order to help the fireman, and you as well, we may have to put him down so we can perform an autopsy.”

“No, you can’t!” she cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without Oreo!”

“Kelly, it’s the only chance we have at saving lives.”

The tears that built up in the girls eyes fell. Jack took his gloved finger by her cheek, brushing away the tears that fell.

“If you’re right about that,” she swallows thickly. “Then you can take Oreo.”

“Could help you too Kelly.” Abaddon says.

“I know.”

Jack gave a sad smile through his mask.

He doffed off his PPE by the door and left her room to give the go ahead.

“Dean, we have a group of kids from Jefferson Elementary School to come in for a tour, can you help Gabe clean up the garage real quick.”

“Dad, I’m really exhausted, can you get Cas to do it?”

“It’s not like you to complain, come on now. He’s busy with the logs, come on it won’t take long.”

The alarm sounded.

“Never mind.” John says.

“Station 51, medical emergency. At the top of the Wells Fargo bank at 5535 Woodland Boulevard. Cross street Jackson Avenue.”

The men and women at station 51 jumped into action.

At the location they climbed up the stairs after they reached the max floor the elevator would allow to go.

“What happened?” John asked one of the men working on the roof.

“Jimmy was over the edge cleaning the windows and he let out a yell, and I saw him collapse. I tried getting him on this thing but it’s jammed.”

“We’ll get him, we’ll hoist one of my paramedics down to get a line on him and we’ll bring him up.” John assured.

“I’ll go.” Dean says.

“Why don’t we just swing the lift through a window?” Cas asks.

“There wouldn’t be a safe way to do it. Just, get me down to him. Drop a line for him and he’ll be up here before you can say Bobs your uncle.” Dean says.

“Just be careful man.” Cas says.

“I will dude.”

Dean has the ropes around him, his harness, Gabe, Michael and Raphael anchored his rope as they helped lower him down.

“Okay, more slack!” Dean shouts as he got closer to the victim.

He got safely on to the lift and began to work the rope around the victim so they could lift him up.

But Dean’s vision began to spin. His hands came up to hold the support of the lift.

“Dean, you okay!?” Cas shouts from the ledge.

“Yeah!”

Dean hurries to get the rope around the victim and tries to work on tying the knot.

His dizziness got worse, and worse. Just as he was about to ask for help, Dean passes out.

His body falling off of the lift, and hangs by his harness off of the ledge.

“Try lifting him up a bit!” Cas ordered.

The three brothers tried pulling the rope slightly.

Cas could see Dean wasn’t getting any higher.

“No, stop, he’s tangled. I’m gonna have to head down there.” Cas says.

He heads over to Charlie who handed him some rope, getting the lopes around him, and working his harness on.

Cas hurries over the ledge.

Gabe, Michael, and Raphael tied Dean’s rope to hold him steady as they lowered Cas down to the lift.

“More slack!” Cas ordered as he got closer.

Cas removed his work gloves to check the victims pulse.

“He’s in full cardiac arrest!” Cas shouts out, communicating.

Cas finishes what Dean had going. Connecting the loops around the victims arms and legs making a makeshift harness.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas calls out.

The victim slowly rising as Gab, Michael and Raphael pulled the rope lifting the victim up.

“Dean, can you hear me man?” Cas asked, trying to lift Dean onto the lift.

He didn’t respond. He was out cold.

Cas furrowed his brow as he grew concerned for his friend.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas ordered.

Cas seen the original victim made it over the ledge safely. And Dean began to slowly rise up to the top.

Once everyone was safely up, they got Cas up as well.

Cas helped with the cardiac victim while Charlie and the others assisted with Dean.

Y/N sat at the nurses station charting her days work about ready to head home when an ambulance and squad approached the door.

She quickly typed up her report, saving it and sending it to her Director, she went to assist the paramedics.

Her heart dropped when she saw one of the patients being wheeled in.

“Dean.”

“Patient one was DOA, heart attack. Dean has a fever of 104.” Cas says.

“Okay, there’s an exam room open, lets get him in there. I’ll page Dr. Singer.”

“Where’s Jack?” Cas asked.

“He’s sick too. He was about to treat Kelly and Chuck when he collapsed. His fever is 103 and climbing.”

“How is Chuck?”

“Not doing well. Let’s focus on Dean please.” Y/N said, keeping the tears of fear at bay.

Dean was all settled in a room later that night.

“Y/N.” Bobby says as he entered Dean’s room.

“Dr. Singer.”

“Your director doesn’t want you treating him. It’s against ethics.”

“I know. I’m off the clock.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

“Oh, forgive me for staying by my boyfriend’s side.”

“Y/N, you’re D.O.N is on the other side of the this door. Relax.” He whispered.

“Bobby, I can’t think straight right now. I want to stay by his side, if that’s alright.”

“You can’t just stop everything because he’s sick. The CDC got back to us on the virus, you know this. It’s a strain of the Asian flu, a newer mutated strain. We have a drug we can use.”

She sighs, rubbing her face hard, trying to not get frustrated with herself.

“I know. I just want to know he’s going to be okay is all.”

“You love him. I know. But you have to still live life. Because that don’t stop. You got to keep going kid.”

She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t stay with him due to isolation protocol.”

“You got it. but once he’s better, you can.” She nods again.

“Please, keep me in the loop with him.”

“I’m sure Meg will. Cas was already on her case about him.”

She chuckles with a nod.

“Go home and rest. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”

She nods, leaving with a slump in her shoulders. Heading to her car. Driving quietly home.

It wasn’t until she got out of her shower, and laid in her empty bed did she let her walls come crumbling down.

A sob escaped from her, shaking her to her core.

“God, Dean. Please be okay.” She sobbed.

The next day, she heads into work trying to focus on her patients.

She learned from one of the over night nurses that Chuck passed away.

Her anxiety already being high enough with her boyfriend being sick with the same virus, but the same virus that killed a fireman.

She headed up to Dean’s room where Meg walked out. Sweating after being in her PPE for some period of time.

“How is he?” she asks.

“Not good. His fever is not even breaking. He had the first 100 Milligrams of Idoxuridine.”

“Has it been two hours?”

“Close, it’s been about an hour and fifty minutes since last dose.”

“Give him another dose of it. Same for Jack if he’s not getting better.”

“Sure thing, I’m sure Bobby will understand.”

Y/N nodded as Meg went back inside to give Dean another dose of the drug.

Y/N headed back to the nurses station to chart her first half of the shift when her D.O.N approached the desk.

“Y/N, I was told you were by Dean’s room yet again. This time on the clock.”

“Sorry Jody, I just—”

“It’s okay, really. Bobby can be a hard ass sometimes, and I know I can be too. But my husband gets sick really easily. And I’d do the same thing you’re doing.” She says.

“Thank you…” she hesitates.

“I have your replacement coming in so you can see him and be with him. Once Donna gets here, go to him.”

“Thank you, thank you.” She says, as tears rise to the surface.

“It’s not a problem.” Jody smiles.

Days pass as the doctors and nursing staff cared for Dean and Jack for the virus.

Y/N stayed day and night, her D.O.N giving her the week off on FMLA.

She had lost track of the days when she finally allowed herself to sleep.

Kelly was fully recovered and the doctors and nursing staff encouraged her to donate some blood so they can use her antibodies in her blood to donate to Dean and Jack so they have a fighting chance.

His fever finally broke, he was getting better. She could close her eyes and he’d still be there.

She woke that night to a hand on her head, playing with her hair.

She stirred awake to find Dean awake and well.

“Hey.” She says tiredly.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He answers. “Babe, did you stay here all day?”

“Dean, it’s been a week. You’ve been out for a week.”

“Damn…but still, you’ve been here all week?”

“Yes. You scared me.” She says. Taking his hand and placing it on her cheek.

His thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Catching a tear that fell.

“Well I’m sorry for scaring you. But you’re worrying me, did you take care of yourself while you were here?”

“Not really. Haven’t been hungry. I’m not sick or anything.”

“I know, you’ve told me that you’ll get this way. Either in a good way, like an innocent way of binging your favorite show and forgot to eat. Or in a bad way, like this.”

“Let me get Meg and tell her you’re awake.”

Just as she says that, Meg comes walking in.

“Jack’s awake…oh Dean’s awake too.” She says.

“Yeah, he is.” Y/N Says tiredly.

“I’ll get Dr. Singer so we can see when you can go home. And get Y/N to a bed, she hasn’t slept much since she stayed here.”

“Really, not eating or sleeping.”

“She was worked up. who could blame her?” Meg asked.

“True.”

Meg left the room to get Bobby.

Dean not saying a word, pulls Y/N’s arm guiding her in the bed with him.

She happily got in, curling into his side.

He felt a residual tremble shudder through her body.

“Shh, I’m here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He says.

Not even a tiny virus would tear up this team.

A/N: Did you enjoy? How are you liking it so far? Favorites yet? Feedback is fuel and much appreciated. :3

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/23/2021

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littlebitoffanfic · 4 years

Text

The Warriors Smile

Fandom: Pocahontas Characters: Kocoum, Kekata, Nakoma, Pocahontas Relationship: Kocoum AN: So I remember seeing this request for Kocoum, but I cant seem to find the specific request. I remember it being about him not dying and the reader traveling with John and the reader falling in love with Kocoum and respecting his culture, but the details are foggy. Im not sure if this was what you had in mind, but I hope it satisfies you for now and if ive totally miss remembers the request or its not what you were looking for, just let me know 😊

You didn’t like being on deck when it was such a storm. You were useful as a medic, but your training didn’t extend to battle the harsh sea. But after John had jumped overboard for Thomas, you came to make sure they weren’t injured. John saw your sour face when the men started talk of killing anyone you came across in the new world. After he came down from the crows nest, he tried to cheer you up, not knowing that you only stayed on deck to speak with him. “You look like you were the one who fell overboard.” He leaned against the banister, his face scrunched up in fake concern. “I wish you wouldn’t call them savages.” You mumbled to John, not having enough energy to fight with the rest of the crew. “But they are.” He looked at you perplexed. “Besides, everyone else on this ship calls them sav-“ “You’re not everyone else, John. And they look up to you. You cant have not noticed Thomas following you around like a shadow.” You saw the smirk pull at his lips meaning he knew what you were talking about.

“He listens to you, too. Hes becoming pretty knowledgeable with medical stuff because he follows you around like a child.” John fires back, and he was right. But only because you warned Thomas that you might not always be around and he needed to know enough in case something happened to you. “Just, just remember. They’re humans too.” You huffed, wanting to move the subject back. “But they’re different.” John kicks off a boot to pour out some water. “They aren’t as different as you think, John. We’re different. Most people on this ship are different. Different eye colour, hair colour, height, weight, built.” You wave to the crew who weren’t paying any head as they secured the deck. “But i bet they have hearts that beat, lungs that breath and blood that runs red.” “Maybe I’ll find you a savage for you to find out.” John smirks at you as he tries to lighten the mood, but the moment he saw you weren’t impressed, he stopped. John could normally read you like a book. You had bother grown up together, and he pulled you along on his adventures many times. He got into fights and you patched him up. You had warned him that you were just a nurse, and one day you might not be able to patch him up. But he dismissed you as a ‘rambling wife’. Not that you were married, or anywhere near a relationship. In truth, you were sure you two would rip each others throats out if left alone too long. But people often assumed there was more than friendship. “I truly hope you are joking, John. No one deserves to die for simply being alive.” You shake your head, disappointed as you stand, rubbing your arms. You turn to disappear back into your quarters, hoping your words might have some weight with the man.

------time skip ---------------

When John disappeared from the landing party, you found yourself wondering into the surrounding woods. You knew you would be chastised for it later, but you didn’t care. It was so beautiful. you wouldn’t go too far, venturing about 15 minutes away from the others until you found a clearing. The way the sun shone down on the forests was like something out of a fairy-tale. You were so lost in the beauty of it all that you almost didn’t notice the small chirping coming from the ground beside you. Glancing down, you saw a small bird. It had a yellowy orange chest, with a blue back and black markings. Crouching down, you wondered why a bird would be this close to the ground. It seemed dangerous. Unless something was wrong with him? The bird began to jump to you, but you saw its left leg wasn’t taking any pressure and it hobbles a little. “Shhh.” You picked up the small bird with ease and sat down with your legs crossed, your skirt making a small nest for the animal to sit in. “I think you have dislocated your leg, sir.” You mused, gently wrapping the bird in the towel and making sure you could still get to the leg . You grabbed some small bandages you used for fingers and smaller cuts and folded it in half so it was the length of the birds leg. You wrapped the small leg till you felt it had enough padding without hindering the bird too much and then tied it up. “All done. My fee will be in the mail.” You laugh to yourself, even though there was no one around to hear your little joke. You unwrap the bird, which tweets happily. “Lets get you somewhere high.” Getting to your feet, you hold the bird in your hands, leaving the towel and your medical supplies on the floor as you searched the surrounding trees till you found a branch about the hight of you eyes. Taking the bird over, you place it on the tree, but the branch wasn’t thick enough and you didn’t think it was high enough either. “Higher?” You ask, even though the bird has no say as you pick it up again, venturing to another tree which was higher up. The bird didn’t even move from your hand as you reached up to let it go onto the branch. It started tweeted, looking up to a near by tree. You followed its eyes and saw a small bundle of sticks and twigs nestled between two thick branches. The problem was that the nest was about 10 foot off the ground. You groaned, walking up to the tree and looking up at your new destination. There was a branch that you could grab onto, but you didn’t know if you had the upper body strength to pull yourself up and hold yourself with just one free hand. Moving the bird into one hand, you reached up and grabbed the branch. You managed to walk up the tree and pull yourself up till you were eye level with the branch you were holding, but your arm was shaking. You were almost parallel to the branch as you glanced down, seeing you were now a good 5 foot off the ground. Before you could even reach out and attempt to put the bird up to its nest, your arm spasmed and you lost your grip. You didn’t even have a chance to yell as you fell, preparing yourself to crash on the ground. Until arms caught you. Your eyes had been scrunched shut, expecting pain, so your mind immediately thought John or one of the others had found you. Opening your eyes, you forgot how to breath. The man who had caught you was unbelievably handsome. Strong cheek bones and jaw line with dark brown, intelligent eyes that stared back at your own. You knew your surprise was painted on your face, but his was stoic, like a warrior. He had long hair with shaven sides, like a mohawk, but the hair fell to the left and down to his shoulder, and white feathers adorned the back of his head. The man lowered you to the ground gently. You both watched each others every movement, trying to work out if the other was dangerous or not. Just because you refused to call them savages didn’t mean you trusted them completely. You were on their land, their homes. They were within their rights to chase you off or punish you if they saw fit. The bird chirped in your hands. Apparently, you had tried to protect the bird from the fall rather than try held yourself. Great self-preservation skills. The man took a few steps back from you but before you could ask why, he ran at you. You let out a small yelp, turning away to try protect yourself. But then you heard a grunt. Looking through your hair, you saw he had ran right past you. And up the tree. He was holding himself on the branch, managing to get enough momentum to get past the lower branch and brace himself on it with a straight elbow on one hand. The sheer strength in his arm was shown by the muscles. He reached out to you, eyes darting to the bird. You instantly understood and went to him, placing the bird carefully in his outstretched hand. He rose it to the nest and the bird jumped happily into its home. You smiled widely, happy that the animal could recover from its injury in its home from a little while. Perhaps you could bring it some food later. The man looked back to you, and you caught his eyes. Despite your smile, his face stayed stoic. Taking a step back, you allowed the man space to jump back down, landing elegantly before straightening back up. He towered over you, and you suddenly felt rather intimidated by his presence as your eyes fell to the red markings on his chest. Two clawed paws. Like a bears or wolfs. You opening your mouth, about thank him when you heard voices calling your name. Whipping to look over your shoulder to where the voices came from, you started to panic. If they found this man, he was dead. Looking back to him, you saw his eyes darting to the sound as well, his stance strong. In fact, you could see that he was growing more hostile with every call. “you need to go.” You whispered, drawing his attention back to you. But his eyes showed confused. He couldn’t understand you. You tried make a shooing motion with your hands, but he only grew more perplexed. Eventually, you were drawn to more drastic measures. You placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed him back behind the tree. He stumbled slightly, before his stance became really aggressive. But he was out of sight now. You backed off, pressing your fingers to your lips as you silently begged him to stay hidden. And just in time. “[y/n]!? Where have you been?” Thomas called out to you and you flashed the man a small smile before walking back to your items. “Frolicking through the flowers, are we?” Ben laughed but ti quickly stopped. “Whats that on your hand, lass?” Looking down, you saw some of the red paint from the stranger had rubbed off onto your hand. “Oh, I found an injured bird.” You wiped the evidence on your skirt as you gathered up your things. “We better get you back.” Thomas looked to the sky, the sun lower in the sky. “Okay. I’ll follow.” You nod, throwing your bag over your shoulder. The two men retreated back into the woods, you following behind. But not before you could steal a glance back to the tree, seeing the stranger watching. You smiled at him before turning back. You heard the men grumbling about having to dig for gold. You would certainly make sure Ratcliff had a piece of your mind if he thought for a second you’d be digging. however, the moment you got back, all hell broke loose. Guns were firing, and crys that there was savages. Ducking behind a waggon, you saw them firing at some people in the trees, and they hit one. That might have been the end of it, but then you saw the man from the forest. He scooped up his fallen alley and carried him back into the wood as they all retreated. Stuck in a conflict, you stayed hidden as you thought. You owed him something. Not your life, but he had saved you from a broken hip or a concussion. And you knew they probably wouldn’t be able to treat a gun wound. You thought of the man, suffering in agony before dying with no understanding of what had hit him. So you did the unthinkable. Racing into the woods, you followed them, until they reach a village. You almost collapse when you see the colony of small huts. The crew would slaughter them as sure as day. A deep sickness filed your stomach as you press your hand over your mouth. You took an oath to help people, not hurt them. Holding the strap of your bag, you take a shaking breath. You could very well be walking into certain death, but that man needed your help. Taking a deep breath, you circled the outside of the village until you saw them taking the injured man into a hut. That must be either his home, or a medical place. You would bet the latter. Slipping inside, the group were too preoccupied with the wounded man to notice someone who wasn’t like them had entered. You felt like you had just entered a sleeping lions den. So you cleared your throat. Like lions, they turned and bore weapons at you as if they were fangs. “No, I want to help.” You held your hands up to show you meant no harm, but the men couldn’t understand you. You looked around, trying to figure out a way to show them you wanted to help him. Pulling the bag open, you pulled out the bandage you had. Showing it to them that it wasn’t a weapon, you began to wrap it around your arm. “Help.” You repeated, pointing to the gunshot wound. Their eyes narrowed, but none protest as you moved closer to the injured as you unravel the bandage from your arm. You would need it. You inspected the gunshot wound. There was no way he could survive this without medical help. But you would need the take the bullet out, clean the wound and sew him shut. You didn’t notice the chief looking to the man you had met not an hour ago. There was a silent understanding between them to let you be unless you caused any issues. And the shaman had said he didn’t know how to heal such wounds. “I need to take the bullet out.” You spoke, knowing they couldn’t understand everything you said. You rummaged to the bottom of your bag and found the spare bullets that the men had dropped. Pulling them out, you showed the man you assumed to be the leader one of the bullets between your thumb and pointing finger. You then mimicked how the men held the guns and made a quiet gun shot noise before showing them the bullet flying to his wound. Eyes widened as they realises what you were saying. “We need to take it out.” You pull out your bullet remover. It was a relatively new invention in the medical word, only about 50 years old but it was a key part of your tool kit. But you didn’t know it they would understand that. Your eyes flickered to the head healer, who looked to chief. A breeze came through the tent, making you shudder while the small group closed their eyes for a brief moment. When the chief opened his eyes, he nodded to the head healer who looked back to you. “Save him.” He told you, making your eyes widen at his English. But you nodded, and got to work. They let you work without question but with watchful eyes. You warned it would hurt, and apologised. But the man gritted his teeth and managed to stay still. Bullets were kind of a speciality of yours. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it was a fact. the bullet was out with 5 minutes. But that didn’t mean it was over just yet. You sewed up the wound, trying to make it as neat as you could. “You’re doing really well. Im nearly done, I promise.” You glance to the injured man, and you could see the relief in his eyes. “Why did you come?” Their leader asked you. “To help. Im a medic. I took a vow to heal people where I could.” You answer truthfully as you wipe away the blood from around the wound and placing a gauge over it. “Your people caused this.” The chiefs words made you flinch. “My people are ignorant and arrogant. I am not like them. I don’t want a war or anyone to get hurt.” You shook your head, feeling the guilt in your stomach. “Why?” he knelt next to you, his eyes watching your face closely. “All blood is red. Its my job to heal that.” You look at him, hoping he might understand your reasoning more than you did. “We cannot let you leave.” The chief stated as he stood, but you had prepared for this. “if you don’t, they will come to find me.” You answer, looking up at him. “Then how do we know we can trust you?” he asked, his chin rising as he spoke to look down at you. “You cant.” You answered honestly, your eyes dropping. “But I can trade you supplies. Like these. To help if you do get into fights. I don’t have much, but it will help you.” The chief regarded you for a moment, his mind thinking over your deal. “Are they dangerous?” The leader asked you as you focused than you needed to on tying the bandage. Pressing your lips together in a straight line, you nodded once. “Leave by night fall. Do not return.” He spoke with authority and you nodded, thankful he was allowing your freedom. “Thank you.” You bowed your head to him out of respect as you packed your things. “We will fight this enemy, but we cannot do it alone. Kocoum-“ the chief was answered as the stranger from earlier stood and followed him. “Send messengers to every village in our nation. We will call on our brothers to help us fight.” He walked out the door, the stranger from earlier at his side as he addressed his people. “These white men are dangerous. No one is to go near them.” You sat back on your heels, unsure what to think. Had you condemned your friends? But these people had a right to know, to protect themselves, didn’t they? You were conflicted, torn between the right thing to do. The lead healer hummed a little, regarding you. You held out a spare gauge and bandage to him, which he took along with a bottle of anti-septic. “Its incredible, how calm he was.” You look at the man, who lay with his eyes closed as if in a trance. “I will speak on your healing once it is done.” He muses, but his eyes danced with some amusement as you smiled at him. He pushed a bowl of water to you so you could wash the blood off your hands. Just as you were drying your hands, the stranger from earlier stepped back in. Kocoum. “I hope to meet you again, child. But not in such circumstances.” The healer smiled, nodding to you before he continued his chant from earlier, signalling it was your time to leave. Kocoum snuck you out the back, and guided you through the forest in silence. You followed without question, occasionally falling behind a little but always catching up until you saw the wooden logs being hauled up to build a fortress. Placing a hand on Kocoums arm, you stopped him. “You shouldn’t go any further.” You told him, your eyes screaming apologies to him as you stepped in front. “But im glad we met again, even if the circumstances were awful.” Kocoum nodded, and you were sure if he was agreeing with you or simply acknowledging your words. “Goodbye.” You step away from him, and he gives you a small bow, before he moves behind a tree, hiding. When you emerge, it feels like the entire crew fauns over you, worried. But Ratcliffe suddenly appears, parting the crew like a sea as he regards you. “Where did you run off to?” he asks, his voice not showing any concern for your wellbeing but probably for your lack of labour. “The guns and fighting scared me. I ran to the woods for cover and got lost.” You lied. “And did you… find anything?” Ratcliffe prys, leaning down as if to intimidate you but you stood your ground. “No.” You shook your head, not breaking under his pressure. he huffed, demanding everyone gets back to word before retreating to his quarters. As the crew disperses, you steal a glance to the woods, unable to see Kocoum anymore.

-------------time skip ------------

You told yourself that you were just going to feed the bird. That’s the only reason you were going back to that clearing. But you weren’t. That man had plagued your sleep, and you wanted to see him again. walking through the forest, you wondered if you were lost, until the clearing came into view. Digging into your bag, you grabbed the paper bag of bread pieces and seeds you had managed to get your hands on. Walking up to the tree, the bird appeared on the lower branch that you could reach, apparently recognising you and tweeting happily. You took a palm full of the food and held it up to the creature, who happily jumped onto your wrist to peck at the food. “Thank you.” A voice spoke from behind you, making you jump. But when you saw it was Kocoum, you relaxed. You had never heard him speak before. “How is he doing?” You ask, going back to your task of feeding the bird. You could just leave the seeds on the branch, but you wanted to be doing something. “He grows stronger every day.” Kocoum informs you. “That’s good. I cant imagine the fear he must have felt.” You muse, as the bird jumps onto your fingers, hopping across your hand to stand on your palm to peak at the food. You were grateful because you could lower your arms, which were hurting a little. “Why did you follow?” Kocoum suddenly asked as you turned and sat at the bottom of the tree. In truth, you knew it was risky. Any instinct you had told you to run away, but you were so interested by him that all you really wanted to do was talk. “I already told you. I don’t like seeing others suffer.” You move the seeds into one hand, freeing your right hand. With the back of your pointing finger, you stroke the birds head, smiling. “Plus, I own you for saving me from a nasty fall.” He didn’t laugh with you, but you didn’t mind. You were a stranger to him, an enemy even. Kocoum stayed standing, but backed away so he wasn’t looming over you. It suddenly dawned on you that you knew his name, yet he didn’t know your own. “Im [y/n].” you suddenly say, wanting to right that wrong. “Kocoum.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “I know.” You smile, amused by the birds trust in you as you petted it. Looking up, you saw Kocoum was confused and, perhaps, suspicious. “I heard the others call you by that name.” Your explanation seemed to ease his suspicions, but not completely erase them. He sat with you for an hour or so, and you told him about your home. You didn’t want to ask about his own in case he thought you were going to relay information. When you noticed that your absents would soon be reported, you stood. Placing the bird back in the tree, you told Kocoum goodbye, but he followed you. At first, it made you a little uneasy, until you reached the edge of the forest and it dawned on you that he was making sure you got back safely. Before you could turn and thank him, he was gone. For the next few days, you found yourself running off to the clearing, and most times he was there. There was the occasion that he wasn’t, but he seemed to like your little meeting. You were both suspicious of each other, but it seemed to ease out as you both spoke. Well, you spoke and he listened. He would ask questions, and seemed interested in you, but didn’t seem like much of a talking. You joked about it, saying that it was fine because you could talk the ear off anyone, so you could easily make up for it. And, at the, he smiled. You nearly fainted. In the setting sun, in this beautiful clearing with this handsome man, he smiled at you. Your legs were jelly as you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. “Your voice like bird song.” Kocoum’s words would be the death of you, you were sure of it. Now a blushing mess, stumbling over your words, you knew it was time to head home. He accompanied you as always, and yet he stayed a little close than normal. Just before you reached the outskirts, he grabbed your hand. “Stay safe.” He whispered, and you could see the corner in his eyes. “You too.” You returned the concern before the two of you parted.

-------time skip ----------

Whatever was going on with John, you were worried. Pacing by your tent, you wondered where he had ran off to at such an hour. He should know better than to do this. You didn’t want to confide in anyone in case they told Ratcliffs and he got angry. In fact, you hadn’t seen Thomas around either recently. Stopping, you glance around. Something felt off. Suddenly, the calmness of the night was broken by screams. Grabbing your medical bag, you followed the others. Thomas came running, crying out for help, that John had been attacked and taken. You rushed to calm him but the others got there first, demanding to know what happened. “I kill one of them.” Thomas whispered, swaying back and forth before dropping his gun. “You- you did what?!” You nearly shriek, but managed to keep it down as the men gathered weapons. “I shot one. They took John because I killed one of their own.” He scrunched his eyes up, but when he opened them again, you were gone. Running into the forest, you felt yourself trembling as you raced to the tribe, treason be damned. Maybe you could help, or exchange something for John. You didn’t know. “[y/n]!” A voice called out, making you nearly fall over as you stopped, heart beating so loud as you saw a woman running through the forest to you. She stopped when she saw you had noticed her. “Kekata told me to find you. He said… you could help Kocoum.” She seemed unsure as she spoke, her eyes darting around. “He- He was the one shot?” You whisper in disbelief. And she nods. You followed her as she raced back to the hut where you had went to heal the first man. Sneaking around the outside of the village, you both managed to slip inside without notice. Kekata sat by Kocoum side, who was still. You were praying he was asleep. Passing Nakoma, you raced to his side. “It isn’t as the first one was.” Kekata spoke to you quickly, and you could hear the worry in his voice. “No, its in a more dangerous area.” You nodded, confirming his worries. A hand was placed on your shoulder, making you turn to Kekata. “I wanted to give Kocoum a fighting chance. But I do not expect a miracle from you.” his words sunk in as he stood, preparing to leave. You didn’t know what was going on. What was going to happen. “I do not trust the white men. But I trust you. you might save one life, but I suspect blood will still fall at sunrise. Stay here. This is my safe haven for you, for what you have done for us. A debt repaid. Do not come out of this hut. Do you understand me?” Kekata spoke with such urgency and hints of aggression that all you could do was nod. “If he wakes, sound the horn.” Kekata draws your attention away from Kocoum to look the elder. He was standing at the entrance, gesturing to the corner. You didn’t follow his direction, instead noticing Nakoma, who seemed confused and almost fearful that Kekata was leaving you alone with an injured Kocoum. “But I do not know if it will stop the war.” War. The word hit you like a bolt of lightning as the realising dawned on you. You knew what would happen now, but you couldn’t think about it. You just had to focus on saving Kocoum as the two left the hut with no further words. Putting on your calm façade, you told yourself it was just another patient. Your hands shook a little more than normal, and you paused before you went near the wound. But once you got to work, you were immersed. All the items you had given them were laid out to your side, along with your own and 2 bowls of water. Time seemed to drag, and you felt sick, but you pushed through. You heard things happening outside the hut, the warriors marching to battle, but blocked it out until there was silence. Working by candle light, you blinked away an odd tear and focused. Maybe, if Kocoum did wake, you could spare John too. Then its not a life for a life. Shaking away the grim thoughts, you worked through till you heard the morning chirping of birds. It was still mostly dark out. Once you were finished, you sat back. The cloth you had been using to clean the wound was bloody, and you didn’t want to use it any more. Ripping a piece of your shirt, you knew it was freshly cleaned this evening. The first bowl of water was more blood than water now, so you moved on to the fresh bowl and used the rag to carry water and run it over the wound to clean it. You went to the water and wet another tore bit of your shirt before coming up and sitting beside his head to clean his brow. Your eyes darted to the paint on his chest, but you didn’t dare touch it. It wasn’t your place to remove that sort of thing. You didn’t speak, not needing to offer any comforting words to anyone, but the silence was near unbearable as you waited for something to happen. For war to break out? For Kocoum to wake? You really couldn’t put your finger on it. After what felt like a millennium, you noticed his eyes were moving behind his eyelids. You held your breath, your lips pressed together in a harsh line as you tried to keep yourself calm. However, the moment his eyes fluttered open, you broke. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you pressed a hand over your mouth to hid your sobbing. The fear which had had your body in a tight grasp eased the moment he woke, and you had done so well keeping yourself calm while you had been alone that you were overwhelmed. His eyes found you, and he began to sit up, despite the pain he must be feeling. Leaning on his left elbow and forearm, he pushed himself up into a sitting position before you could even talk. “Don’t sit up, it will be painf-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence as a large hand slipped behind your neck and he drew you to his lips. The moment his warm lips met your own, you were a goner. The nurse had left you, replaced with the girl who was screaming with excitement as he kissed you. The kiss was intense, but controlled and carful, just like Kocoum. He controlled every aspect and, if you had been standing, your knees would have been weak. It was so perfect, like a dream which you wished to never wake from. Some part of you was convinced you had falling asleep by his side and you were dreaming all this. You reached up to his face, your fingers gently grazing across his cheek before mirroring his own hold on you by slipping your hand around the back of his head to just above the base of his neck. with your other hand, you gently wrap your hand around his wrist, your thumb pressing against the veins, feeling the pulse beneath the skin. A small shiver ran through your body as you moved closer, running your hand along his arm and to his chest. Pressing an open palm above his heart, you could feel the steady beat. Pulling back, you felt the air flood into your lungs and the tent suddenly seemed to much bigger and brighter. You couldn’t help the red in your cheeks, or the smile on your lips as you look at the man who had stolen your heart from the very moment he had caught you. Much to your surprise, you saw a smile tug at his lips, his eyes dancing with a joy you had never seen before. No one had ever looked at you like that. He looked so happy, so full of life. Suddenly, what was happened beyond the tent hit you like a wave as you jolted back. “We have to tell them you’re alive.” You suddenly say, and you see the happiness be replaced with concern and confusion. “They think you’re dead. They are going to kill John in revenge but Ratcliffes marching to war with them.” You began to panic again as you turn to where Kekata had pointed before he left. In the corner was a horn. Moving from his side, you grabbed the horn. Turning back to Kocoum, you knew you couldn’t ask him. He was already moving way too much and you were terrified his stitches wouldn’t hold. Getting to your feet, you went to the mouth of the hut and looked up at the blue sky, praying it wouldn’t see red today. Taking a deep breath, you raised the horn to your mouth and blew. The sound was deafening but you pushed through for a solid 10 seconds before lowering it. You didn’t know what it would do, or who could hear it. Perhaps you were too late. Some leaf’s rustled as a wind ran through them in your direction, but what you felt was not the wind you knew. It was a small gust, and it seemed to run up your body, winding around your legs and waist before passing your head and fleeing, taking leaf’s with it. You stared in the direction it had went, and something told you that there was still a chance. You jumped when you felt a hand on your lower back, turning to see Kocoum standing behind you. “We need to go to them. They will need proof.” As he spoke, you knew he was right. “But, you are still healing.” You press a hand to his chest, desperate to keep the heart beating within it. “I will have time to heal when this is done.” Kocoum spoke with conviction, but you pressed firmly on his chest. “No, you could undo your stitches.” You shook your head, until a small figure appeared from beside the hut. Your eyes darted to her, nearly jumping at her sudden appearance before you recognised her as the girl from the night before, Nakoma. She looked at Kocoum as if he were a ghost, a hand pressed over her mouth before she stepped forward. “I’ll go. I’ll tell them you are alive.” She nods firmly, before turning on her heel and running off towards wherever the battle was going to happen. Hopefully, the horn was enough to cause a moment of doubt, and Nakoma would be the voice of reason. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late. You pushed your worries to the back of your mind and turned to Kocoum. “You need to rest. Please.” You take his hands in your own and guide him back into the hut and towards the mat. Despite his protests, you helped him lie back down as you chested the stitches and saw they were fine. Although, even if everything did turn out okay, you were sure you would have a battle trying to keep him still to heal. There was not much else to do, but wait.

Within an hour, Nakoma ran back. By the look on her face, it wasn’t good news. You held your breath, waiting for her verdict. Thankfully, the sound of the horn had reached Pocahontas in the forest as she ran to save John. Apparently, this was the one John had been sneaking off to see. She had manged to stop everything, even speaking sense to her father before Nakoma had appeared, telling everyone that Kocoum was alive. But then she grabbed your wrist. “Your leader, a shot hit John. Hes bleeding.” As she spoke, you felt sick to your stomach. Another bullet. Grabbing your bag, you stuffed your medical supplies in. “I’ll go. Will you stay and make sure he doesn’t move? His stitches are fresh and it could do damage.” You didn’t wait for her to respond before taking off in the direction she had came. Something guided you through the woods, until you appeared at the bottom of a hill. You saw your crew on the other side at the bottom of a sheer drop, and Kocoums tribe were on the hill. There was relief on everyone’s face from your crew at your appearance. But you were worried. You had patched John up a fair few times. Your worries were that this time, you couldn’t. Climbing the hill, the tribe parted for you as you came to John. “Another bullet, eh?” you dropped to your knees beside him. he was lying with his head on Pocahontas lap as she soothed him. “Yep, I’ve heard you’re pretty familiar with them.” He tried to laugh, but winces, holding his side where the blood was. When you saw the position of the hole in his shirt, your heart sank. Pulling away the material, your greatest fears were confirmed. “John, the entrance wound is right on top of the scar from before.” Your voice shook and, for the first time since you arrived, you felt useless. “What does that mean?” Pocahontas asked, unsure why that was an issue. “It means I cant help him here. He needs to go back to England and get it surgically removed by a doctor. I don’t have the tools or the ingredients to do it here and I’m totally useless-“ Tears welled in your eyes as you were overcame with emotions. But John interrupted you. “Hey, hey, hey. From what I heard, you’ve been very useful. Theres only so many times a sailor can patch up his ship before he has to put it to specialists, eh? And this ships taken a few waves or two over the years.” He chuckles, wincing yet again. But he soothed you immensely. “I’ll get your bandaged up, give you some stuff for the pain. Im sure Thomas will be by your side the entire way home.” You smile, reassuring both him and yourself.

-----------time skip --------------

You stood by the sea, waiting as John asked. He said she would come say goodbye, and Kocoum had agreed the same. “So, let me get this straight.” You sat, crossed legged by Johns side. “Me and you, two people who get mistaken as a couple all the time, each started a relationship with two members of a tribe who were due to be wed?” “Yeah, funny how things work out, eh.” John smirked. “Look.” Thomas, who had been standing on watch, pointed to the mist that lay thick on the forest floor this morning. You couldn’t see anything at first, until there was the silhouette of not just Pocahontas and Kocoum (you were partly annoyed that he was walking so soon), but also of at least 8 others. The crew held their breath, clutching their guns, until it was revealed the others were carrying baskets of food for the journey home. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. As Pocahontas came to John, you stood. But Thomas met her, taking off his hat out of respect. “Going back is his only chance. He’ll die if he stays here.” Thomas spoke with her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. You watched the two with such amazement and respect. Powhatan and Nakoma approached. Powhatan pulled off his shawl and lay it over John. “You are always welcome here. Both of you.” He looked to you as well, making you smile with gratefulness before turning to speak only to John. “Thank you, my brother.” He smiled down at John before retreating. John said farewell to the animals, he then turn to Pocahontas. He cupped her cheek in an intimate way. He asked her to come, and she refused because she was needed by her village. But when he offered to stay, she said he needed to go. Their love would be broken by distance, and as she leaned in and kissed him, you took your leave to go see Kocoum. “Stay.” He took your hands in his own, holding them tightly against his chest as if he never wanted to let them go. You couldn’t help but smile, but you faltered in answering. Was it selfish to stay? John was leaving Pocahontas, with an open invitation back. What if something happened on the way home and they needed a medic? Were you abandoning your promise by staying here? But you were staying as a healer as well, so did that balance everything? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand clapping your back. “Sorry to interrupt.” John called over to you. the smirk on his face was not one you trusted. “You know, [y/n], I think that we need a new nurse. One whos not going to run off and heal the enemy. Not that you’re the enemy now.” He quickly added to Kocoum. “No, I think that you should be somewhere that’s peaceful, somewhere that you cant run into trouble. Like, oh say I don’t know, here? Just something to think about.” If he hadn’t been shot, you might have kicked him. Had everyone been eavesdropping this whole time? Looking back to Kocoum, you couldn’t help but beam at him. “I think that means I can stay.” You nod, bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement. Kocoum smiled, and you heard him let out a breath that he had been holding. Something small flutters to your side, and you turn your head to see an old friend. The bird, with the blue back, was hovering beside you, chipping before flying into the sky. Something told you that you would see the little guy again. You raced to say goodbye to the crew, and Thomas promised you that he would take care of John no matter what. You told him that you believed in him. John didn’t like long goodbyes, so gave you a handshake along with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, anyway.” You smile. “oh, I’ll be back as soon as I can stand.” He joked. “You know, I would roll my eyes, but Kocoum only got stiches a day ago, and he came to stay goodbye, so I have no doubt that you men are stupid enough to do that.” You returned, swatting his arm. But soon, it was time to part. The sadness you felt from seeing the ship sail into the distance was no unfelt, but as you felt the warmth of Kocoums body beside you, you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter of your life. You were welcomed in the village both as a healer and Kocoum’s wife, and quickly became known as the only one who could make the warrior smile.

#pocahontas #kocoum #Kocoum x reader

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sorry-apsalar · 3 years

Text

See You in a Bit Chapter 4/4: You Got to Fix Him

Fry woke up in a hospital room, a real one, not the sorry excuse for a medical facility that Zoidberg ran in the Planet Express building. He still hurt but not nearly as bad and his head was clear. An IV was in his good arm, his hand and wrist wrapped in thick bandages, his broken arm in a proper cast. And he was utterly alone. Which didn’t mean Bender hadn’t been repaired, he wasn’t exactly the type to sit at anyone’s bedside for longer than a few minutes at most. But Fry needed to know fore sure he was okay as soon as possible.

Shaking off the last dregs of sleep, he sat up and looked around. His personnel effects had been placed on the bedside table, including his wallet and phone – put on charge by a kind soul – and the bag he’d taken from Bender’s chest compartment. If Bender had been here, surely he would’ve taken it back, right? … Perhaps Fry hadn’t been out for long enough for him to have been fully repaired, probably, right? He’d been pretty beat up so it made sense that it’d take a while to have him up and running again.

Fry gingerly grabbed his phone off the table and turned it on. After some consideration, he quick dialed Leela’s number; if Bender wasn’t fully fixed yet, his number wouldn’t work and Farnsworth rarely answered his phone, especially when he was working on something. She picked up on the second ring.

“Fry! You’re awake, how do you feel?”

“Uh… better.” A lot better but that didn’t matter right now. “What about Bender? Did the Professor finish fixing him or is he still working on that?”

“The latter.”

“Oh uh… that’s fine. How much longer is it going to take?”

“I don’t know. But Fry, you know he only said he’d try, he might not be…”

“Welp, I gotta go and get checked out of the hospital and stuff. I’ll see you at the Planet Express later, if you’re there.” Fry hung up.

As always getting checked out of the hospital was a pain and took longer than it really needed to but finally, he was free. He went straight back to the Planet Express building and soon as he was inside, he beelined for the Professor’s lab once more.

Farnsworth was in of course and working on something, presumably Bender. Venturing closer for a better look revealed that that was indeed the case. Bender’s body was in even worse shape than before. His head had been removed, normally not at all a difficult or violent thing to achieve it was supposed to be able to come off, but the way it had been pushed in meant the Farnsworth had had to slice up the upper part of Bender’s body to get it out. Bender’s head had been split open and hollowed out. A bunch of technology stuff that Fry had no clue what did but could only have come from Bender was spread out across the table.

Bender had been utterly and completely dismantled. A rather unsettling and unpleasant sight but one that should be only a stepping stone to him being put back together and made whole again. So, swallowing back his hesitation, Fry stepped forward again. “How’s it going? How long before he’s up and running again?”

“Hmmm… well, I don’t know. There’s no guarantee I can…”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Call me when you’re about to start him back up, okay?” Fry was likely to only get in the way and make it take longer so he quickly left.

He didn’t have anything else to do but wait so… he went to the break room. Leela, Amy, Hermes, and Zoidberg were all already in there, looking up at him as he came in with sympathetic looks.

Zoidberg was the first to speak. “Sorry about the robot. He was a good friend.”

Before Fry could reply and say that such words weren’t necessary because Bender was going to be fine, Hermes stood up. “I already took the liberty of going over his will,” he said as he strode over to Fry. “You probably won’t be surprised by what’s on it. Here is an official copy.”

He handed Fry a piece of paper. ‘BITE MY SHINY METAL ASS’ was scrawled on it in large sloppy letters. Bender had signed his full name under it in messy barely legible cursive. Which was indeed not at all surprising. It probably would’ve been funny under different circumstances.

“But as his husband,” Hermes continued, “all his stuff should by default go to you, unless he had debts that need to be paid. Come talk to me in my office later when you’re ready to fill out the paper work for it, I’ll help in any way I can.” He awkwardly patted Fry on the shoulder before going back to his seat.

Fry glared down at the paper again. “You guys don’t seem to have much faith in the Professor being able to fix him.” How dare they give in that easily? Bender was their friend too and they’d all been working for the Professor long enough to know he was capable of almost anything he put his mind to.

“Robots aren’t designed to be easily fixable once broken.” Amy made it sound as if that automatically meant that there was no hope for Bender. “Especially the models meant to work in factories and stuff like Bender. Think about it, the company makes more money if you’re forced to buy a whole new one every time one breaks instead of fixing it.”

“That… that’s really fucked up.” No wonder Bender often said stuff about hating humans if the people who’d made robots were doing shit like that.

“Yep, I guess so. But that’s just how it is.” Her expression and voice softened. “Sorry about Bender though, I know he meant a lot to you. We’ll all miss him.”

Fry should tell her and all of them that they were wrong and that Bender was going to be okay, the Professor just needed some time to do the repairs. But… but… what if they were right? What if not even Farnsworth could fix him? Fry had initially decided on this course of action as a long shot but had somehow convinced himself that it was the most likely outcome when it… actually probably wasn’t, huh? Which meant…

“I believe the Professor can fix him,” Leela said, drawing Fry’s gaze up to her. “If anyone can it’s him.”

Fry nodded, swallowing back the tears that had threatened to form at the line of thought he’d been going down. There was still hope even if it wasn’t much but it was there so no use giving up on it yet. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Now come sit down and tell us what happened.” She and Amy scooted to one side of the couch, making room for him.

“Yes!” Zoidberg agreed with a bit more enthusiasm than was necessary. “Tell us about your adventure. How’d it happen?”

With a sigh, Fry awkwardly folded up the copy of Bender’s will and put it into his pocket before walking over and sitting down. “There’s uh… not really a whole lot to say. I… did something dumb and got beaten up and arrested for it, thrown in jail and stuff. They were going to execute me but then Bender broke me out. To do that he had to make the guards that were guarding the jail and stuff leave by making a big distraction somewhere else. He said he was going meet me back at the ship in like an hour but… he never showed.” Instead Fry had fallen asleep like an idiot. “So, I went looking for him and uh… found him like that. I had to drag him through the desert heat back to the ship which is why I’m all sun burnt and stuff.”

“What’d you do that go you in so much trouble?” Amy asked because one of them was bound to.

Fry could try to lie and try to make himself seem marginally less stupid but he was bad at the kind of thing. Might as well just get it over with instead of them catching him at a lie, forcing him to admit it anyway. “I… well… uh… The aliens were sentient plants. And um, turns out they sleep in little clay pots with soil in them and they look an awful lot like a standard potted plant when they do. So uh… I was sent in to see their monarch to deliver the package, only one person is allowed in to see them at a time for some reason. And uh… they were napping so I thought I was alone and… well, I really needed to pee. There weren’t any bathrooms around so a potted plant would’ve been a good place to do it, right? So I just kind of… you know… They weren’t very happy about it and ordered their guards in to beat me up and drag me to jail to be executed later.”

There was a general murmur from all four of them, even Zoidberg, that that had been exceedingly stupid. Which was a hundred percent accurate because it was probably one of the dumber things Fry had done. Probably far from the dumbest though considering the large breadth of things he’d done while working this job, sometimes with Bender or at his suggestion, that had proven to be less than smart. But this was undoubtedly the worst because it resulted in not just himself getting hurt and almost killed but Bender actually getting killed. And there was a good chance even Professor Farnsworth wouldn’t be able to bring him back to life.

“Yeah,” he said looking away from all of them. “I shouldn’t have ever insisted on leading that mission. I’m clearly not fit for anything other than following orders. And even that I’m bad at.” Why had he even been kept around for so long? He should’ve been fired ages ago.

“Well,” Leela said, “other than the whole insulting an alien race’s ruler by peeing on them while they slept which is terrible and astoundingly stupid, I think you did pretty good. You did manage to fly the ship safely back home even despite having a broken arm and burnt hand.”

“Not to mention,” Hermes added, “delirious from heat stroke, dehydration, and grief.”

“Yeah, I for sure couldn’t do that,” Amy said. “So good job on that part at least.”

“I… guess there is that, huh? The autopilot probably did most of the work though.” He didn’t even remember the flight back. His memories between finding Bender’s body and begging Farnsworth to repair him were foggy at best, he’d been quite out of it. “I did land it in the hanger without crashing though, somehow. But uh… still next time someone needs to come with us to supervise. I’m too stupid to be trusted and Bender would get us into trouble by getting caught stealing something or saying something rude to the wrong person.”

They all murmured some kind of agreement to that. Not even bothering to try to claim he wasn’t stupid because it would’ve been a lie. … Hopefully there would be a next time with Bender though.

The next few weeks were probably the worst Fry had ever had to endure. Modern technology made healing fairly fast but painful and unpleasant buy hey, at least he was out of the cast and bandages in just over a week instead of however long it would’ve taken to heal without such technology. They even had a fix for sunburn so even if it still hurt like hell, it was for a shorter time. But dealing with all that paled in comparison to waiting for news about Bender, good or bad.

With every day that passed Fry became more and more sure that Bender couldn’t be repaired. And yet, until Professor Farnsworth declared he’d failed, there was still hope and thus Fry couldn’t begin to grieve properly even if he’d wanted to. All he could do was wait and hope for good news while dreading the worst.

All the while his guilt weighed on him as if he were still dragging Bender’s mutilated corpse through the desert sands. If he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble in the first place, Bender would’ve never had to break him out. If he’d just not fallen asleep while waiting for him, he might’ve been able to go out and save Bender before it was too late. Or heck, if he’d just not insisted on proving himself to be capable of leading a delivery mission every once in a while, they never would’ve ended up in that situation either. So really it was all his fault.

He didn’t dare venture into the lab to ask for an update again for fear of what he might see or be told. Instead he hung around the Planet Express building, waiting for Farnsworth to come out. He didn’t even go home other than for two lonesome awful nights because it was empty, way too quiet and had too many reminders of his life with Bender. The others expressed concern over this behaviour multiple times but he wouldn’t be able to rest properly until this was resolved one way or the other.

His guilt and growing fear that this ‘adventure’ would have a sad ending kept him up at night. Which served him well as he was lying awake on the break room couch sometime past midnight when his phone rang. Bored and lonely enough to answer even a scam call, he rolled over to grab it off the coffee table. … It was Professor Farnsworth. He almost never called so…

“Hello.” Fry tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. The call might not have anything to do with Bender and even if it did, it might not be good news. So he shouldn’t let his hopes get too high. … He couldn’t help himself though, he wanted Bender to be alive again so bad.

“Good news Fry, I’ve finished reconstructing Bender.”

Fry froze, almost not daring to move lest it prove to be a dream and moving too much would break it. “Really?”

“Yep.” He was likely intending to say more but…

“I’ll be over right away.” Fry hung up and quickly stumbled off the couch to run to the lab.

“Oh, that was fast,” Farnsworth said, turning to fac Fry as he burst through the doors.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been sleeping on the break room couch since I got back. Where’s Bender?” Even as he asked, he got his answer.

Farnsworth had built Bender a whole new body. The design was mostly the same but sleeker and shinier, to the point of being almost reflective. Not yet powered up, he lay on the table face up.

“Since it’s impossible to purchase a blank bending unit, I had to make a whole new one,” Farnsworth said, gesturing to him. “And while I was at it, I made some improvements to the design, expensive ones mind too so you two owe me. He’s made of sturdier, lighter metals, and is far more fuel efficient. Also, he’s got…”

“Awesome cool, let’s start him up.” Fry was tired of waiting, he wanted to talk to Bender again right now. They could hear all about Bender’s shiny new improvements later.

“Yes, yes, but before we do that. While I can promise a functioning robot with Bender’s base personality code, these things weren’t exactly meant to be repaired so I had to replace a quite a few things. Where applicable I transferred as much of the data from the old damaged parts onto the new better parts. How much the corrupted data I couldn’t transfer or the parts being new and different will change things, I can’t say until he’s been up and running long enough to get some data on it.”

“So… what you’re saying is he might have amnesia?”

“Definitely not full amnesia, but partial perhaps, or he might just no longer be able to recall a handful of random events. Or something else about him may be different. I literally had to rewire his whole brain basically, it’s hard to do that while keeping everything exactly the same.”

“You tried your best though?”

“Of course.” He sounded offended by the mere suggestion he might not have. “What do you take me for? A lazy nit-wit like yourself? Never. If anyone can repair a machine’s mind that’s been damaged beyond repair, it’s me.”

“All right.” That’s all Fry could ask for and anything was better than nothing. “How do we turn him on?”

Farnsworth reached into his lab coat and pulled out a palm-sized remote. “Here.” He handed it to Fry. “You do the honors.”

The remote had two buttons on it, one that had the universal symbol for power which hadn’t changed in more than a thousand years printed on it, the other read ‘SLEEP’. Fry pressed the former.

On the table, Bender’s eyes opened, revealing that they looked same as his old ones. It was several long tense seconds that felt like forever before he moved though. “What’d you do to me?” He gave Farnsworth a suspicious stare as he slowly sat up and shifted to sit with his legs hanging over the edge of the table.

“He fixed you,” Fry answered as he stepped closer. “How do you feel?”

“‘Fixed’ me?” Bender slid off the table and shook out his limbs a little as he looked down at himself. “Ooh, I’m all shiny and sleek now. It’s like I’m brand new but… newer.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Farnsworth cut in before Fry could say anything more.

Bender paused and was silent for a few seconds before responding. “Something that I shouldn’t have survived.”

“And you didn’t. But Fry here dragged your horribly mutilated body back here and demanded I repair it. I couldn’t of course because not even I can work miracles, but I did rebuild you. Your body’s entirely new and only a small handful of your electronics are from your old system.”

Bender grimaced. “That means I died, right?”

“Yep.”

He was silent for a few seconds as he seemed to consider that. “Spooky. Well now I know what happens after you die: a whole bunch of nothing. I always suspected that priest bot was scamming people for money. Huh, but now that I’ve officially come back from the dead, I could probably do that too with even more success. Heck, I could probably start my own religion.” He chuckled evilly, rubbing his hands together.

It was good that he was taking the news of his death and revival so well and great to see him already ready to resume cheating strangers out of their money but Fry couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re okay now though right? Everything’s fine again?” It almost seemed too good to be true. And after what Farnsworth had said about maybe something being off with him, Fry almost couldn’t believe it.

Bender’s expression softened as he looked at Fry. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just came back from the dead so honestly, I’d say I’m doing pretty good. I feel a little weird but that’s it. So there’s not need to look at me like that, it’s…”

Fry hugged him. His metal body was cold and hard, not normally what one would think of as comforting but it was to him, even more so as Bender’s arms wrapped around him too. “I missed you so much. And I thought… I was worried that the Professor wouldn’t be able to bring you back for a while there and I just… I’m so glad you’re all right.”

Bender patted him on the back. “It’s good to not be dead anymore.”

Fry was crying again. From relief this time but still Bender would likely tease him for it later but right now he didn’t care, he was too exhausted and relieved to. The last however long Bender had been dead for was with a doubt the worst however long he’d ever had to endure.

“Well, I’ll be going then,” Not even Farnsworth reinserting his presence in the room was enough to get Fry to let go of Bender right now. “before you two get even more gross and sappy. I’ll fill in you about all the improvements I made to your design later when Fry’s not crying on you.”

Bender let Fry hold him uninterrupted for a while after the sound of the lab doors opening and closing announced Farnsworth’s departure. But he had only so much tolerance for such things. “All right meatbag,” he said eventually as he gently peeled Fry off of him, “we should probably head home too. You can tell me everything I missed while I was dead sometime tomorrow, okay?”

Fry nodded before wiping his eyes and nose with his jacket sleeve. “Okay. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” Bender took Fry’s hand as they started for the exit. If he was at all bothered by how tightly Fry squeezed back, he didn’t show it. Holding his hand like this was so much better, from here on out Fry would do his best to never take it or Bender in general for granted again.

#My writing #futurama #frender #Fry/Bender #grief/mourning

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grantyort · 4 years

Photo

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

[Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean!

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait!

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white]

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response. Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go.

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for...

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

#life is strange 2 #life is strange #sean diaz #daniel diaz #captain spirit #chris eriksen #stephen reynolds #lis2 #captain spirit ww #joey peterson

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angelruel · 4 years

Text

vintage pt.2

summary: the reader gets into an accident which causes her to lose her memory. as Ruel begins to rebuild their relationship and recall the good memories between them, some bad ones are restored as well and might threaten their future.

masterlist

Word Count: 4.4 k (kind of long, oops)

“Soooo what’s my favorite color?”

“Easy. Blue,” he retorted while reaching over to fill in a space on the tic tac toe board that Y/N had drawn on her empty lap desk. He was the x’s and she played the o’s. It was a bit difficult for Ruel to pretend to not know all of her tricks she played in this game, but he was a very convincing loser. She had also taken the opportunity of his return to test him on some trivia of her personal likes and dislikes.

“Okay, here’s a good one,” she said as she filled the left hand corner on the board with a perfect circle. Ruel learned a long time ago that her strategy was to fill two corners and the center spot of the board in order to have an upper hand on winning. He watched her play the same way over again. Ruel admired her predictability and he almost felt confident enough that her tic tac toe skills returning would somehow correlate to her feelings for him to return as well.

“Well finally a good one. Lay it on me.” He gave her his signature soft smile that he always grants her when he’s being his sweetest version of a boyfriend.

“What’s my favorite song? Or, at least one of my favorite songs.”

Ruel scrunches up his nose in thought, “hmmm. I’m gonna need a little more context, bub.”

“Okay so maybe my favorite song I like to hear on a road trip. Something that gets me energized.” Ruel found it funny that she was reaching for more and more clues to jog her memory. They both knew that couldn’t she remember the last road trip she’d been on, or any of them for that matter. He was proud that she was at least in a more positive mood about not remembering things.

“Wait a Minute! by Willow Smith. There’s one.”

Y/N’s happy expression dropped to a confused one.

“Huh? I don’t listen to Willow Smith.”

They both just sat there for a while. There was still an apparent wall that Y/N had built up to secure herself from being hurt by Ruel since she barely knew him.

But the truth was that she barely knew herself.

“Well, I guess I did listen to her music,” she dropped her head down. “I guess I just can’t remember it.”

Ruel used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe off the marker drawings on Y/N’s desk tray so that he could lean over it to hold her hands.

“Hey, how about we do something else? I brought back some stuff like you asked me for.” She looked up and gave him a soft smile when he let go of her hands to grab a blue shoebox from the floor.

“Oh, you brought gifts! Yay!” she exclaimed while clapping her dainty hands over and over. He sat the box in front of her lap on the hospital tray and she stared at it for a minute. One of the things she did remember was that blue was her favorite color. And after having a few conversations with Ruel, she discovered that his was brown. So, she assumed that the color of the box was a little nod to her. She thought that was really sweet.

“You can go ahead,” he encouraged her. “If you have any questions, just ask.”

She hesitated to lift the flimsy lid from the top. Partly because she was afraid that seeing the contents wouldn’t help jog her memories at all, and also because she was still pretty weak from the constant dosage of pain meds she’d grown accustomed to.

The first things to come out of the box were some polaroids and a bunch of little papers she grabbed that were grouped together. One of the polaroids showed a group photo in front of a campfire with little writing at the bottom that said ‘new years 2020.’ There were some post-it notes with little messages written on them in pencil. They were fading but Y/N could still make out what they said. It was a girl’s handwriting, and there was a little drawing of a pond? Or maybe a lake.

i drew you a pond since you wanna act like a silly goose all the time. bitch.

-y/n

There was another one filled with words instead of a cute drawing, and she assumed this one was a serious matter.

hi, love. i left to go watch the sunrise with coco around 4 am-ish. you probably would’ve wanted to join us, but you look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. and coco said that you’ve been smothering me lately and encouraged me to sneak out. anyways, i’ll probably be back before you see this, but just in case i’m not, don’t call the cops. okay that’s all. in case i never return, i love you.

-y/n (under the heavy influence of stella)

Ruel chimed in to explain. “Yeah, you used to leave me little notes like that sometimes instead of texting like a normal person.”

“And you kept them?”

“Of course I did. I’m not a monster.” He joked and she playfully hit his chest with the stack of notes. Ruel scooted his chair closer to the side of Y/N’s bed and leaned in. “Lets see what else we got in here.”

There were movie tickets, receipts from restaurants, and even old wristbands from festivals.

“Is this what you meant when you said I grow attached to material things?” She laughed on the outside but in reality, Y/N was so infatuated in the idea that a boy would keep a box of things that reminded him of her and their relationship.

“Ha yeah, I guess it kind of rubbed off on me after a while.” Ruel reached his hand into the box as well and pulled out a little beaded bracelet. It had a simple pattern of ocean blue and brown wooden beads. He played with it in between his fingers.

“I remember this. Your cousin made it for us when you brought me to Thanksgiving. She kept running back and forth asking us what our favorite colors were. It was so cute. And she said we had to share it,” he reminisced.

He gave her the bracelet which she carefully placed on the wrist that wasn’t connected to an IV. There were mostly pictures in the box. Pictures of Y/N and Ruel in different settings: kissing, posing next to venue signs with his name on it, cooking, etc. She picked up one of the pictures and examined it carefully.

“I remember this,” she said in a nonchalant matter. Ruel looked up at her, then back at the picture in her hand.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I remember that whole trip. That was a fun trip. Hmm.” She hummed to herself in bliss with a grin on her face.

“Tell me about it,” he grinned back at her. “What do you remember?” She looked down for a while. It was almost like the times they spent together were in secret, and too precious to share with anyone else. She felt a deep connection to someone-whoever it was to make her feel such strong emotions in just the echos of the times they spent together. Y/N began longing for the person who made her experience this type of fondness. The person she was looking for was right in front of her. Why was she holding back?

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“Okay, how do I say this,” Y/N’s hand snaked up to her head to rake through her hair as she paced in deep thought. She took in a deep breath and turned around to look at him sitting in the hospital chair across the room.

“I-I want this to be special. I mean, you’ve been so patient and considerate with me. You haven’t tried to rush me into anything at all. But I see the way you look when you think I’m not paying attention. You’re hurting, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to finally give in. Well not, finally give in, but. You know, you know what I’m trying to say right?” She used every ounce of energy she had to walk across the room to face him. She picked him up and brought his face close to hers.

“I’m trying to tell you that I love you,” she whispered and smiled softly. Before she could say anything else, Y/N heard the doorknob rattle in desperation to open it.

She quickly threw the teddy bear back into the chair and tried to pretend that she was doing anything else.

Ruel leaned into the door frame and struggled to keep his balance as he carried a Taco Bell bag and two drinks in his hands.

“Oh, let me help you with that,” Y/N rushed over to him to grab the drinks and his eyes grew in shock.

“Well, it’s nice to see you up and moving so much. The doctor was right, you really have been getting stronger every day.” Y/N smiled up at him with pride as they both settled the food onto her desk. “So, have you heard anything yet?”

“Anything about what,” Y/N mumbled in between taking bites of her soft taco. She knew exactly what he was referring to, though.

“Oh, you know. Like when are you gonna get out of this place? I mean, with the way you’re up and walking now,” he brought his free hand up to rest on the back of her neck as he examined her face with concerned eyes. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? They said four to six weeks, but by the looks of it, you’re healing up really well. You’ve done so good lately.”

She mouthed ‘thank you’ and gave him another wide smile. Y/N was happy that he was proud of her progress. He played a big part of her growth, though. Through the discomfort and the multiple procedures she had to undergo, Ruel was always there at the side of her bed to rely on. Whether she was up at 4 am crying because she couldn’t remember the names of her dogs or freaking out in excitement after being able to stand up on her own, he was there for it all.

And as her strength developed each day, so did her trust and love for him. She assumed that it wasn’t the same as their previous relationship, but it was more than enough to keep them happy. He would always tell her that he loved her, but she didn’t say it back. He told her it was fine, that he knew she didn’t really know who he was and he wouldn’t hold it against her. But in return, he needed for her to accept that he still loved her as much as he did before the accident and to be okay with him loving her even if it meant that she couldn’t love him equally back for a while.

But after spending so much time with him, Ruel was hardly a stranger to Y/N anymore. He was a friend, a very understanding and attractive friend. She couldn’t ignore the burning sensation she felt deep in her stomach when he would cuddle up close to her on the bed during their movie nights. She couldn’t ignore the desire or the comfort she felt for him any time that he was around (which was very often because Ruel was always around). He told her that he would wait for her, that she should take her time to decide if she wanted to continue their relationship whenever she was ready. He told her that she’d just gone through a major trauma and that she needed to focus on getting better. He said he would wait for her, but a part of her feared that he was only saying this to make her feel better. She feared that he had already accepted that they were just friends, that maybe he’d already began a new romance with some skinny long-haired girl in Sydney and he was just waiting for Y/N to get her strength back so that he could go home to her.

“Okay, well I have to tell you something,” she finally came out with. Ruel sat up straight in his chair to give her his full attention. His eyes were fixated on her face and his hands rested in his lap. She found herself lost in thought trying to remember what she wanted to tell him but she couldn’t focus on anything but his beauty.

“Did they already tell you whether you’re going home or not?” he laughed a little as he went to grab his drink off of the desk. “Did I miss it when I went to get lunch?” He used the side of his jeans to wipe the water that got on his hand from the cup. His huge hand. The same huge hand that he then used to move the long strands of hair out of his face. He’d previously told her that she did not like the long hair look on him and always encouraged him to get haircuts and shave. In the moment, Y/N couldn’t figure out why the hell anyone would ever encourage him to change his appearance when he looked like that. The long hair and mustache gave him a much more mature look in comparison to the old pictures and videos she would look at of him. She couldn’t understand why anyone would want to cut the hair that she so desperately wanted to run her fingers through. She quickly snapped out of it and shut her eyes so she couldn’t look at the beautiful boy in front of her.

“I really do have to tell you something,” she started and stopped because she was nervous. With her eyes still closed, she felt Ruel’s hand grab hers.

“What’s going on, why are you acting so weird?” he let out a nervous laugh and Y/N realized that he was probably feeling the same anxiety as her in the moment. She knew that someone had to be the confident one in this scenario, and she decided that it would be her. She took one last deep breath and let go of it.

“Do you remember what I told you when I first told you I loved you?”

“Yes,” he laughed again, “Do you want me to tell you the story again?” She nodded quickly in a child-like manner and looked at him in adoration.

“It was a little after a month of us dating and I’d just taken you home after we went out driving and just hanging out. I was almost back in the car when I saw you run out of the house, barefoot, yelling at me to wait.” Y/N laughed a little and felt the tension between the two of them begin to melt away.

“And then what did I do?”

“You went into this whole speech about how you felt and how you were very scared to be vulnerable because you were afraid of being hurt. And then you said something that I’d never forget,” he looked up at the ceiling as if the answers were written on the tiles, “you told me that the fear you felt only grew as you fell more in love with me. You said you thought that it would never go away, but you didn’t want it to stop you from embracing the happiness you felt when you were with me. And then you told me you loved me, and that you were scared of me. You said that I made you wanna jump into the fear rather than run away from it. You said you knew that you loved me as soon as you felt scared. Because you knew you had found something worth cherishing. And if it ever went away, you didn’t think you’d survive it.” He looked down. After saying all of that, it still seemed like there was something he was missing. He looked as if he didn’t manage to not break her heart. He was scared too.

“Ruel?” Y/N let her hands relax and gripped onto his tighter.

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.” She began to fiddle with his long digits and almost felt hesitation to do anything next.

“What are you afraid of-” he began, but was interrupted by the connection of her lips onto his. He freed his hand and rose it up to the back of her neck so he could deepen the kiss. They kissed again, and again. They kissed until their faces were red and she broke away for a moment to catch her breath. She smiled at him and he looked back at her in disbelief.

“I love you. I really do, Ruel. And I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long but I don’t want to be just friends. I want you in my life like you used to be,” her eyes dropped to her lap and her expression changed, “before everything got so fucked up.”

He grabbed her face again and began to pepper it with kisses. At this point, Ruel was halfway onto her bed. She brought up her dainty hands to cup his face and she gently pulled away again. Ruel hitched a rushed breath out as he pouted in confusion as to why she pulled away.

“Oh yeah, I’m going home today.” She smiled with her teeth and he laughed in pure bliss before grabbing her face again.

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The boxes piled in the middle of the living room all started to disappear one by one. Y/N watched in awe as Ruel picked up every box and placed it in its proper area. Her legs swung back and forth in boredom while she waited on top of the kitchen counter where Ruel had placed her since she refused to wear shoes on the trip to her apartment.

“You’re such a good slave,” she told him in a sweet tone as her eyes followed him across the area. He shook his head, barely giving her an ounce of the attention she practically begged for, and continued moving things around.

“Honey are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own like this? You can stay back home a little longer if you’d like,” Y/N’s mother remarked. She looked at her daughter with concern.

“I’m not alone, I have Ruel. And besides, I’ve already left the nest once before. I should be fine.”

“Well I guess I’ll be on my way home now. Call me if you need anything. Anything.” Y/N pecked a kiss on her cheek and guided her mom outside.

By the time she got back into the apartment, the living room was clear of boxes and she moved down the hall in search of her boyfriend. She found Ruel in her bedroom on the edge of the bed hunched over his phone.

“What’s so interesting?” She sat down beside him and rested her chin on his shoulder. Once she realized what he was watching, she pulled out one of his airpods so she could listen in. It was from her Youtube channel she started a few months ago. She had faint memories of vlogging herself doing normal things like grocery shopping or going to her brother’s football games. She’d only looked at a few of her storytime videos, including the one where she details how she met Ruel. This was a video she hadn’t seen before, though. It was of her and Ruel together in some resort. It looked like they were on vacation and he explained to her that they were in Amsterdam for some music festival and had decided to make an entire trip out of it since it was so close to their anniversary. They’d coordinated matching outfits for the first weekend and were posing in front of the bathroom mirror together like lovesick idiots.

“Damn, I’m so jealous of us.”

Ruel let out a low chuckle at her and skipped through the parts she’d recorded of his performance.

“Yeah, most people are.” He fast forwarded to a portion of the video after they returned to the hotel. Ruel was in the shower and Y/N was laying on the bed, recently showered, detailing all of the ways she was proud of her boyfriend. He laughed when she poked fun of how he forgot his own lyrics on stage.

“Well that was almost cute,” he added and locked the phone.

“Hey, it’s still pretty cute,” she laughed, “You can’t be mad at me for telling the truth, babe.”

“Babe, huh?” he questioned as he turned to face her.

“What, is that weird? Or too soon? I mean, you call me ‘bubs’ and ‘love’ all the time,” she looked down and played with the details of her jeans.

“It’s adorable. I love it. And I love you,” he reassured her as he cupped her face and pulled it in for a puffy kiss. She kissed him back, this time with more dominance. Y/N kissed Ruel like there was a pot of gold hidden somewhere in his mouth that she was determined to get.

Ruel matched her energy right away. He kissed her back and gripped the back of her neck to guide her face closer into his. They adorned each other with open mouths and full hearts. As they continued, Y/N felt the urge to go further and further with him, exploring his body and getting to know him on a more intimate level. They were so good at making out, it seemed like they’d done it a thousand times before. It felt like she was kissing a lover from a different lifetime, like she’d replayed scenarios over and over which all ended with her loving him. She couldn’t remember ever doing this with him before, but her body remembered. Everything with Ruel came with such ease. Every time he touched her body, she was overcome with euphoria and only craved more. She craved being closer to him, kissing him deeper.

“Mmm, take this off please,” she tugged on his shirt and he quickly pulled it off before resuming his actions. Y/N felt herself falling into an intoxicated state as she moaned against his mouth. He responded to her by wrapping his hand around her thigh and pulling it closer against him. They both began to move in sync with each other, both giving and taking as their bodies danced a routine they knew too well. Y/N was so distracted by Ruel that she didn’t even hear her mother walk back in through the front door. She only whined when he pulled his face away from hers.

“Why’dyoustop,” she breathed out. She was out of breath and watched him with puppy dog eyes as he stood up.

“Your mom is back,” he stated flatly. He was clearly out of breath too and he was trying to calm himself down so he could see what was going on in the front.

“...so?” she gave him a blank stare and patted on his side of the bed to join her again, “she can let herself out.”

“Don’t worry, bubs. We’ve got time,” he chuckled to himself and pulled his shirt back on over his head. Y/N sighed and jumped from her side of the bed to join Ruel in the living room.

“I’m sorry, hun. I forgot the most important box: your things from the hospital.” Y/N’s mother placed a small box on the counter and tapped the top of it lightly, “This is what you had on you when the crash happened. There’s not much in there, just the clothes you were wearing, your wallet, your phone,”

“My phone?” Her eyes perked up. So did Ruel’s. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. I bet there’s a bunch of clues in there to help jog my memory,” she picked up the box and skipped down the hallway to drop it off.

“I’m pretty sure it’s dead, so you’ll have to find a charger for it. You probably have the same kind.” Her mom gestured towards Ruel, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes were fixated in thought, emotionless and dazed in a trance.

“Huh? Oh yeah, probably. Sure.” He snapped out of his guilty state quickly and turned to see Y/N coming back from her bedroom.

“Was that it, Mom? Cause we were just about to go out and get some food before it gets dark.” They both said goodbye and hugged Y/N’s mother. Once the door was shut behind her, Y/N grabbed Ruel’s hand with a quickness. His worries were suddenly gone as she led him down the hall.

It wasn’t long before they’d continued right where they left off. Y/N was still indulging herself in him and embracing the comfort she felt in his arms. She gripped the fabric of his shirt into her fists to deepen the kiss and felt the vibration from his mouth into hers as he let out muffled moans. With each kiss, she found herself thinking about all of the things she couldn’t wait to do with him before another thought popped into her mind and snapped her out of the daydream. She pulled away from him and turned her head towards the box.

“I’ve been wondering what was left on my phone,” she gestured to the dresser. “I need to plug it up so I can see what was going on before I lost my memory. It would be cool to see who I last talked to right before my life was ruined, right?” She laughed and began to sit up. Ruel grabbed her hand and lightly pulled it so she could come back down to him.

“I thought you wanted to do this, yeah? I mean hey, this is our first official night together alone. We can look into the phone later, right?”

Y/N nodded and laid back down next to him. “Hmmm, you’re right. This first, phone later,” she declared before connecting their lips once more. As Ruel rolled his lanky body on top of hers, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why Ruel was so against her looking at her phone. Was there a dirty secret in there that he didn’t want her to find? She dismissed her paranoid thoughts and continued.

a/n: okay, so that’s that on that. ugh what is on that phone that he doesn’t want her to see???? i hope this makes sense, i’ve reread it so many times and it seems like crap but i’m still going to post it. thank you for the support of my page, and please send me asks with what fics you would like to see next ;)

#one ruel #oneruel #ruel #ruel fic #ruel imagine #ruel imagines #ruel one shot #writers on tumblr #ruelvandijk #ruel van dijk #ruel vincent van dijk #ruel x reader #rueledits

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