#me: *symptoms get worse* why am I so useless i took the day off work sick I should be scrubbing my bathroom or something

[noirandchocolate]

Me: *sitting isolated on my nice soft bed, wracked with Covid, having not had an uninterrupted night’s sleep for days* Um I’m trying to read this case file for work why am I so tired? My eyes keep shutting and all I want to do is lie down but it’s only 10:11am? What’s going on here?

Me: *has a coughing fit so intense I gag, eventually hacking up [redacted] and painfully popping both sides of my jaw*

Me:

Me: Heaven’s sake, I’m trying to concentrate on work here, why am I so sleepy. It remains a mystery.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Sorry for Not Winning You an Arcade Ring | Joaquín Torres

✦ pairing — Joaquín Torres x female!Barnes!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 8.7k (should I even apologize at this point?)

✦ summary — your ex-boyfriend comes back into your life the moment you finally meet your dad — although things are complicated, your feelings are intact.

✦ request — Could I please ask for a story where reader is Bucky’s daughter and she used to date Joaquin but they broke up and then when she meets Bucky they get back together? Angst and drama and fluff and something steamy but no smut please?

✦ warnings — angst, drama, mentions of food and beverages, mentions of violence, language, depiction of symptoms of mental illnesses and light depiction of abandonment issues, daddy issues, fluff.

✦ author's note — coney island (the song) doesn’t have much to do with the fic, but I couldn’t take that line out of my head and thought it was fitting. Next Joaquín fic will be the one where reader used to date Peter, I promise.

════════════════════════

Joaquín swallowed with difficulty. His saliva had become unbearably thick in seconds. As he stood in front of the building, the building that now looked taller than it really was, he felt an itch in his neck.

Sam gripped Bucky’s nape, encouraging him to lead the way inside the building. Bucky was as frozen as Joaquín.

The older man was speechless. Joaquín, however, was not. “Are you sure this is the right building?” he rasped the question directed to Sam.

“One hundred percent.”

Joaquín nodded. The world was small, and he didn’t want to find out just truly how smaller it could get. “I’ll wait here.”

Bucky shook his head. Joaquín’s stomach dropped. He wanted to be there for Bucky, Sam had told him how important this was for him — when he agreed, Joaquín didn’t know he would come back to this place by supporting Bucky.

Connecting dots had never been hard, much less now that it was part of his job, yet he wanted to be mistaken.

“Let’s get this over with, boys.” Sam patted Joaquín’s shoulder. His other hand was still on Bucky’s nape, and by the looks of his grip, he wouldn’t let go.

Joaquín knew exactly what Sam was doing and he wished he had somebody to stabilize him too. “I’ll lead the way,” he mumbled.

“I have to talk to the—“

“There’s no need,” Joaquín interrupted.

Pushing the main door open, he nodded down at the security guard. Still the same old guy. The man smiled, nodding upward as though asking if Sam and Bucky were with him.

“They’re cool,” he assured the guard.

“It’s good to see you,” the guard told him, still smiling.

“You too.”

Joaquín slanted his head, motioning for Bucky and Sam to follow him. He walked past the elevator, explaining, “The elevator is always broken.”

Sam frowned. “We’ll take the stairs, then.”

Their steps, silent yet heavy, carried nerves and apprehension. Joaquín didn’t know how to explain himself or he should even try to do it, Bucky was scared of being rejected, and Sam knew Bucky wouldn’t recover quickly from this.

Joaquín leaned over to look at the paper in Sam’s hand. The number scribbled on it confirmed his suspicions.

“I—“ God, he couldn’t back down now. “Who will do the talking?”

“I will,” Bucky said in a quiet voice. “I just need you two there.”

“Yeah, man, no problem.” Joaquín was thankful his voice didn’t crack.

Bucky lifted his fist, yet his knuckles didn’t touch the door. Not yet. Joaquín felt cruel for wishing Bucky would take longer.

The knocking wasn’t desperate as Joaquín had anticipated. Perhaps Bucky wanted to make a good impression, or perhaps he was wishing nobody would answer the door.

The door opened and Joaquín found himself frozen. Stuck between running away and pulling you into the tightest hug you had ever received.

The euphoria of seeing you again was overwhelming and bittersweet. You looked good. You had always looked good in his eyes.

You were speechless. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him or because of Bucky.

Sam said a soft hi to fill the air, only making it worse for Bucky and unbeknownst to him, for Joaquín.

You stared at him, trying your hardest to smile although the muscles in your face didn’t give in. Eyes moving to Bucky, you found yourself rudely staring.

He did the same. Nobody said anything for a while. Three pairs of eyes were on you, and your brain couldn’t seem to function.

You had looked for him for years, in different countries, finding rejection in every corner of every big and small city alike.

Your gaze deviated to the other side where Joaquín was standing. You picked on Sam’s shift, sandwiched between the other two men.

Joaquín tried to hold your gaze, but you looked away.

“Uh...” you trailed off, eyes jumping from Bucky to Sam. They stopped for a moment before deviating again towards Joaquín. “Come in.”

There weren’t any pictures left in the living room, instead you had filled the spaces with ceramics and trinkets.

You had the same colorful couch Joaquín once spilled coffee on, and the same cozy chairs you had bought online by mistake.

”I should have introduced myself...” Sam trailed off.

“I know who you are,” you assured him. “Nat talked a lot about you.”

“You met Nat?”

“She came looking for me no longer after people disappeared. Maybe two months.”

You motioned for them to sit. Bucky and Sam did so on the same couch whereas Joaquín walked towards a chair. Your cat jumped onto the chair before he could take a seat.

The cat looked up at him and meowed.

“Fatatita,” you chastised the cat. “Let him sit down.”

Before you could approach the couch to pick the cat up, Joaquín lifted her in his arms. He sat down and placed her on his lap.

The cat curled up there, spiting you.

You sat on the other chair, closer to Bucky and Sam.

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky asked. So timidly you barely heard him.

You nodded.

“What else do you know?”

“Not much. You— you’re my dad and nobody knows who my mom is.”

Bucky looked down. “I’m assuming Natasha told you.”

“No.” You made a face, remembering that day like it was yesterday. “Somebody sent me an uncensored file. They probably wanted me to track The Winter Soldier down and make their job easier.”

“But you didn’t.”

You couldn’t tell if he was offended or relieved. “I actually did. I poured a lot of money into it and it never paid off. I lost track of you after Siberia.”

Joaquín squirmed around on the chair at the mention of Siberia.

Siberia practically ruined your life. Picking yourself up had not only been hard but something you hadn’t even been sure you wanted to do. Things had lost meaning. The only reason you were still here was your stubbornness.

Sam curiously asked, “Were you trained or something?”

“Not thoroughly. I’ve always been fat so I was useless in their eyes.”

Bucky sighed. “Sounds like them.”

You didn’t expect anything else from a terrorist organization.

“Oh! I didn’t offer you anything to drink...”

“I’m good,” Sam and Bucky answered at the same time.

You hesitated before turning to the other side. Joaquín barely shook his head. His fingers were buried in Fatatita’s fur as the cat laid on his lap with her eyes lidded closed.

“So... to what do I owe the visit?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Well, I wanted to meet you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You had assumed he needed something from you. Knowing he wanted to meet you made your decade-long sacrifice and the heartbreak almost worth it.

“I was saving up for a trip to Brooklyn. I heard you were around there.”

“Yeah. It’s home again.” The glance he gave Sam didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You wondered if you’d be in the same situation they were if things had been different.

Home was a foreign concept to you. The word didn’t even feel real no matter how many times you said it in your head.

════════════════════════

Outdoor cafes weren’t really your style. However, you could admit the place Bucky and Sam had taken you was nice.

You took his offer to visit him and Sam for a week. Working from home was a pain in the ass sometimes in terms of organization, but it had given you the ability to look for him from the beginning.

The square table shook as Bucky placed his metal hand on it. “Would you stop texting?” He chastised Sam who was sat in front of you.

“It’s something urgent. I wouldn’t be interrupting family bonding time if it wasn’t, you know that.”

Sam’s comment was the end of it. Bucky reclined back onto the chair and gave you a small smile.

Oh, so Sam truly meant the family part. Family — a magical word that evoked foreign sensations in the pit of your stomach.

Sam’s cellphone started ringing. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes,” he announced as he declined the call.

Both Bucky and you followed Sam with your gazes. Your stomach flipped as Sam greeted Joaquín.

Sam smiled. “You got it so quickly?”

Joaquín nodded as he tried his best to not look your way. Sam took the envelope from Joaquín’s grasp.

He could hear your laugh as though you were giggling in his ear like you used to and the temptation was too much for him to handle. He was only human.

Bucky was laughing too, seemingly at something you had said. Joaquín didn’t blame him, it was easy to like you, to laugh with you, to regret every second not spent with you.

“Okay,” Sam sighed. “I didn’t want to ask, but I can’t bite my tongue any longer... what’s up with that face and those eyes you’re giving (Name)? You did the same—“ He groaned. “Don’t tell me...”

“I won’t tell you,” Joaquín tried to joke.

“Shit, man. What happened?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“Mmmh. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea...”

“Please? I need you for this.” Sam waved the envelope. “But I promised I’d have coffee with them. She just got here.”

Joaquín hesitated to answer. On one hand, he knew Sam would need his help; on the other, he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had going with your dad.

“Come on,” Sam insisted. “Bucky is paying.”

Your eyes were on them as they approached the table. Sam once again took the seat in front of you, leaving Joaquín to seat practically next to you.

You wanted to flip the table and scream yet you remained in your seat, neutral and borderline frozen.

Sam leaned over to say something to Bucky. They were close enough for you to hear, but your ear didn’t pick it up.

You stood up from the table, surprising yourself more than you surprised the three men accompanying you. “I’ll place our order,” you announced.

The place was pretty in its simplicity, only decorated with coffee and pastry themed artwork. Functionality had been a priority and by how busy the place was, you could only presume they had succeeded.

There was a couple all over each other next to the window and a group of friends doing homework three tables from them. Laptops could be seen everywhere, just like people checking their phones.

You had to wait in line to place the order and the line was already building behind you too. The couple all over each other didn’t even seem to realize somebody was staring at them and if they did, they couldn’t care less.

You took a glance outside where Bucky was chatting with Joaquín while Sam made a phone call.

Sam slipped his phone into his pocket. “I didn’t give her my order... do any of you want to add anything?”

“I gave it to her,” Bucky assured him. “We thought you would take longer.”

Joaquín feigned interest in his phone. He had already read all of his messages, but he wanted to avoid the comment building in Sam’s mind. He could only hope his friend will keep it to himself.

He felt your presence as you sat back down. “There are two orders above ours. They will bring it to us.”

“Did you ask for extra milk?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. My acid reflux has been giving me trouble.”

“Because you eat too quickly,” Sam chimed in.”

You lifted both eyebrows. “You could have ordered tea.”

“Absolutely not.”

You snickered. Joaquín snorted. Instinctively, the two of you turned to the side to look at each other.

Something flashed in his eyes, the same you fell for that hazy summer. They were still warm, albeit tired now. As they became glossy while he held your gaze, you wondered if yours looked the same. You wondered if he had something to say and hoped he wouldn’t find the courage. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take it.

The order arrived, shattering the moment.

“Thank you,” Joaquín said, staring at you.

“No problem,” you rasped. Fuck.

“We’re hoping to convince her to move closer to us,” Bucky said, not subtle at all, as he took a sip of his beverage.

Joaquín followed the circumference of the mug with his finger in clockwork motion. “Good luck.”

“Thank you. I want to make up for lost time and the distance makes it difficult.”

“Videocalls are quite effective,” you reminded him.

Joaquín winced. His finger slipped into the beverage.

Bucky tilted his head. “Are you okay?”

“It’s hot.”

“Well, it’s coffee,” Sam stated the obvious.

You couldn’t take Joaquín’s reaction off your mind. Not even on the way to Sam’s and Bucky’s place.

Sam said he’d be home by dinner time. He also warned you to not let Bucky cook. You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh.

The guest room was practically the same as the one in your apartment. Same size, and a close enough layout.

Bucky had a proper look at your luggage. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring more clothes.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Your apartment is so well-decorated that I assumed things.”

If only he knew how hard it had been to replace the remains of Joaquín... “I did it at random, just trying to fill empty spaces.” You lightly changed the subject, “I like your couch, by the way.”

“Sam hated it at first, but he has grown fond of it.”

You faked a chuckle, prompting your cat to lift her head. Sprawled on the bed, she stared at you.

“Comfy, Fatatita?” You reached over to scratch her head.

“How did you come up with her name?”

“Count Von Count’s cat is named Fatatita. It’s an homage.”

“Count Von Count?”

“From Sesame Street. He’s a vampire obsessed with numbers and he’s also a Count.”

You sat on the bed, pulling Fatatita onto your lap.

Bucky sat on the edge, twisted so he could look at you. “Sooooooo...”

“So...”

“Where do you know Torres from? You had a weird moment there.”

You hummed, entertaining yourself with combing your cat’s fur.

Bucky didn’t let it go. “Now that I think about it, you knew his coffee order without asking...”

“Intuition.”

“Does your cat have intuition too?”

“Probably. They’re curious creatures.”

“You can tell me anything, (Name).”

”That’s the thing, there’s nothing to say,” you admitted. “Whatever you’re assuming is pretty much what happened.”

“I will kill him for cheating.”

“What?!” Seeing him cross his arms with a faint smirk on his face, you added, “You know what? Do it. You’re not making me talk.”

He let out a hybrid between a whine and a sigh. “I thought that one would work.”

“If you must know, the breakup was shitty.”

“Touchy subject, got it.”

Touchy would never cut it and you couldn’t understand why. “Do you remember any of your breakups?”

“From when I was a teen, yeah. But I don’t think they were bad.”

“Oh, so you were the one who ended the relationships.”

After a short silence, he admitted, “Yeah.”

Your body shook with laughter. ”At least you’re honest.”

════════════════════════

After an hour and a half of working on your computer, you decided to stretch and fix yourself a cup of coffee or tea. 9:00 AM was the perfect time to drink something other than water.

The door to the bathroom closed as you opened the guest room. The living room was empty, just like the kitchen.

Such a thing didn’t last. Somebody called on the door. Bucky hurried to open the door,

You heard Joaquín’s voice. “Is Sam ready?”

“Come in. He’s taking a shower.”

Great! Just who you didn’t want to see. Why was he even here? He should’ve been doing whatever he did in Las Vegas, not ruining your family bonding time.

Your cellphone rang in your hand just as you had finished pouring coffee in a mug. Seeing your neighbor’s contact name, you took the call immediately.

“Hey, Ben. Everything okay?”

Your neighbor giggled. You knew it was fake as always. “Hey, pretty girl. Where have you been? I made your favorite pastries yesterday but you didn’t answer the door.”

You ignored the pet name. “Oh! That’s very sweet of you. I’m out of town right now.”

“Ah.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Is your cat by itself?”

“No, no. I brought Fatatita with me and my best friend is taking care of my plants.”

“Well, then,” Ben said drily, “call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Joaquín rolled his eyes. Oh, so he was listening in, huh.

“I’ll hold you up to that,” Ben said.

The line clicked and once again you couldn’t take your eyes off Joaquín who was glaring at you.

“What?” you snapped.

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You hummed. He nodded. Neither of you gave signs of tearing your eyes off each other.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope.” You took the mug in your grasp. “I was just about to get back to work.”

Walking past him still hurt, maybe less than the last time, but that wasn’t saying much when he shattered your heart that day.

What was his fucking problem? First, he barged back into your life without warning, and then dared to give you that look as if you still owed him explanations for how friendly you were with other people?

The nerve of him! Of his stupid pretty eyes you were sure nobody could say no to.

Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck this. You were tired of not getting over him when he had no consideration of what you wanted or needed. He was the one who led you on by making you believe everything would go back to normal.

Had you made a mistake by breaking up with him to go look for your dad instead of asking him to go with you? Maybe, but at least you didn’t make him believe everything would be okay.

At least you had the decency to admit you had fucked up when you went back to him. At least you didn’t try to impose your wishes on him.

Now your day was ruined and you still had a shit ton of work to get through. Approaching the bed, you picked Fatatita up and hugged her to your chest.

You technically could have asked Bucky for a hug, he had said he wanted to make up for lost time, but you didn’t know him that well and it was embarrassing.

Begging for affection was something you were past of. You had taken care of yourself since you were 14, and learned the hard way that people didn’t deserve your tears.

Still, hot tears streamed down your face. You weren’t sure if you were angry, sad, or frustrated, but you wept until your cat forced you to let go of her.

If Bucky knew you had been crying, he surely know how to keep it to himself. You had lunch together between idle chats and nothing more happened.

You couldn’t get used to him, no matter how hard you tried or how much interest he showed in getting to know you.

Tearing down the wall you had built for years didn’t even sound easy to do, actually doing it seemed impossible as of now.

“I gotta run a few errands,” he told you as you carried the dishes to the sink, “wanna come with me?”

“I haven’t finished my work for the day.”

His face fell. “Next time.”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

Bucky gave you a tight smile and so you watched him leave with a weird feeling in your stomach. Was this how children felt when they saw their parents leave for work?

Sam didn’t take long to arrive. You didn’t have the full grasp of what they truly did, the superhero part was clear, but you didn’t know if that was their job or their side gig.

He greeted you with a smile. Trying his best just like Bucky.

“Bucky’s running errands,” you notified him.

“Yeah, Joaquín told me he called. I forgot my damn phone in the morning.”

“Oh...” You didn’t know what to say.

Sam sat on the yellow couch he used to hate. “Piece of advice?”

You braced yourself for the same thing your best friend had told you. ‘Joaquín doesn’t deserve your hostility.’

“Don’t call him Bucky to his face.”

“Wh—“ It took you a minute or two to process what he had said. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he told you softly. His eyes were on you, analyzing you. “Are you okay?”

“Lots of new things at once... I’m not good with...” You bit your bottom lip. “Work is driving me crazy,” you lied.

Sam pensively hummed and you knew he wouldn’t touch the subject again. He probably knew you were lying, and he’d surely tell Bucky, but what could you do?

Well, you left Brooklyn in a hurry. Your bags had been made for days when the date finally arrived. Relief washed over you the moment you stepped into that plane.

Bucky’s feelings worried you, that was true, but you felt out of place in his and Sam’s apartment. They had been welcoming and kind, and the fact that they weren’t the problem stung.

As a teen you fantasized with everything you would do and say when you found your dad, but adulthood had crashed onto you in a giant wave. It washed away the naive illusion of one day having a normal life; a family.

You called him as soon as you got to your apartment. “Just wanted to let you know I made it safely.”

“That’s good to hear.” The line shuffled. “How’s the weather?”

“Fine, I think?”

“Sunny?”

“Kinda cloudy. It’s drizzling.”

“Ah.”

“Hey, I— I gotta go. I’ll call you soon, yeah?”

Bucky craned his neck as he looked up to the ceiling. “Yeah. Take care.”

You hung up immediately.

“What am I doing wrong?” Bucky asked out loud.

Sam threw his arm over Bucky’s shoulders. “Nothing. Just give her time.”

“We should get her a job here,” Bucky suggested. “Maybe that way she’ll move closer to us.”

Joaquín shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I forgot you’re an expert on her,” Bucky bitterly said.

Joaquín turned to look at Sam. His friend didn’t help him out and instead said, “You could ask her first.”

“Should I?” Bucky asked Joaquín.

Shrugging, Joaquín stood up from his seat and took his jacket. “I think we all know the answer she’ll give.”

“If you had told me where she was when we met—“

“I didn’t know you were her dad,” Joaquín snapped. He looked down, frustrated with himself for letting Bucky get to him when it wasn’t his fault either.

“You dated her.”

“Look, she didn’t tell me who her dad was. I just knew she was looking for him.”

Bucky was left speechless. Joaquín put his jacket on and walked towards the door.

“Joaquín...”

“Not now, Sam.” He pulled the door open and left the apartment without any other comment.

Joaquín walked down the street, aimless. He should’ve called — he could’ve called you right now in fact. But what could he say? He didn’t even know why it hurt this bad.

The next time he heard about you was a couple months later. Sam and him were on a quick mission and Sam felt the need to give him updates about the family dynamic.

“She doesn’t want to meet Sarah and the kids,” Sam ominously said.

“I understand Bucky and you want to have a good relationship with her,” Joaquín assured him, “but I don’t get why you come to me for advice when we’re not together anymore for a reason.”

“Because you know her and we don’t.”

“She doesn’t cope well with change.”

”Is there any way to convince her?”

Joaquín had asked himself the same question. Many times, in many places. The conclusion was always the same. “No.”

════════════════════════

Walking up the stairs with produce bags was part of your weekly routine. The elevator rarely worked and you didn’t trust using it when it did.

It was early. The market had been almost empty when you arrived — you had to wait for a few people to set up their products before buying.

Early mornings and all-nighters were your norm. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in.

That was a lie. You could, you just chose to ignore it had happened. Everything always went back to a time you weren’t sure you would ever get over, and at the point you were in your life, you would rather ignore your past altogether.

As you reached your floor, you tried to remember if you had bought lemons or limes. Oh, well, you’d make do. Now you just needed to buy cat food and you’d be set for the week.

You had just unlocked your door when you heard a voice behind you.

“For a second there I thought you were out of town again.”

“Nah, I just really wanted some fresh fruit.”

Ben hummed. “Wanna hang out for a while?”

You considered it for a moment; you wanted to say no. Yet you gave in. “Yeah, why not?”

You let him in first. Ben avoided knocking the bags you had placed on the floor in order to open the door and stood in the living room, eyes on the plant near the window.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you told him as you carried your bags into the kitchen.

He remained in the same spot until you came back. His blue eyes focused on you as you awkwardly stood in front of him.

Ben leaned in, hands ghosting your sides.

You placed both palms on his chest and pushed him off you. “We said it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Right...”

Whoever was at the door saved you from an uncomfortable conversation by knocking with urgency.

Ben frowned. “You didn’t tell me you were expecting somebody.”

“I’m not.”

The moment you opened the door, you realized something was terribly wrong. Sam hadn’t visited you since the day you met him although he and Bucky called often.

He went directly to the point, “I need your help. It’s important.”

You nodded, letting Sam in. “I’ll talk to you later, Ben,” you said, hand on the door handle as you waited for him to leave the apartment.

You saw him glare at you, but Sam’s presence was enough for him to keep his complaints to himself.

Sam sat down on the couch, watching you as you hesitated on whether to sit down or walk into the kitchen.

“Want some water?” you offered.

“Sure.”

“Ice?”

“No, thank you.”

You filled your glass with crushed ice and a little bit of water and carried both glasses towards the coffee table.

With your glass between both hands, you asked, “What’s up?”

Sam didn’t look at you as he said, “It’s about Joaquín.”

“I—“

“Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two and I don’t care.” Sam made a pause, allowing you to munch on ice. “I haven’t seen him in two weeks, I can’t find him anywhere.”

You cleared your throat, fighting a cough. “And what do you want me to do? I don’t even know where he lives.”

Sam took a gulp of water, not knowing what to expect. “You said you weren’t trained. Your file says otherwise.”

“I never said that.”

You had been careful when you answer that particular question. You hadn’t been enough for Hydra, but that didn’t mean they didn’t break you first.

“Why did Viper spare you?”

You bit the inside of your bottom lip. It was more than complicated — you didn’t even remember much from that day. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “She beat me up and the next thing I knew, Kraken was taking me to my first foster family.”

“So you haven’t had any contact with her ever since?”

“No—“ You made a face. “Well... I think she sent me the first lead to find Bucky. The actual file that said he was my dad.”

Sam placed his glass back onto the table. “She’s been on and off in Vegas for a while.”

“You think she did something to him,” you asserted.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You clenched your jaw. “How can I help?”

“Telling me the truth.” He became extremely serious as he added, “I know you have contact with Seraph.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t care about Seraph, but the girls under her wing had suffered enough already. “I can’t tell you anything about her, Sam.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “Look, (Name), I already talked to Zemo and he doesn’t know anything.”

“Why can’t somebody from the Air Force find her? Or him?!” you defensively asked.

Sam scoffed. “Just how much you know about him?”

“Last thing I knew he was choosing The Air Force over me.”

You poured ice into your mouth. Barely able to close it, you let a few little chunks melt before you started munching again.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sam lamented, “Joaquín’s life might be on the line.”

You shook the glass in your grasp. “I can link you up with one of her angels. That’s it.”

Sam nodded, pulling his phone out. “Give me her info.”

“No, no.” You put your glass down. “We go to Madripoor and the contact is made there.”

“I’m not taking you to Madripoor. Are you insane?”

“Probably.”

“Your dad would kill me!”

You shrugged. “Don’t tell him.”

“I can’t ruin my relationship like that.”

“Sam...” You whined when he shook his head. Almost pouting, you stared directly at him. “Please.”

“No, that face won’t work on me.”

“I’ll explain things to Bucky.”

“Oh, you will. You are taking a flight to New York in...” He checked the time. “In two hours and telling him to his face that you still have contact with Hydra.”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s exactly why you’re telling him. Adults don’t hide shit like that!”

“You don’t get it.”

“And I never will. Besides, you owe this to us for the stress you’ve given your dad and for refusing to meet my sister and nephews.”

He was right.

You pushed yourself off the chair. “How light should I pack?”

Sam made a face, twisting his mouth. “I don’t know. Pack like you did last time just to be safe.”

Well, you had twenty minutes to pack. And to struggle with putting Fatatita in her cage.

“Hey,” you called for him from your bedroom’s doorframe. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“I bought produce that could go bad. Can you give it out? Everything’s on the counter.”

His face softened. “Of course.”

Your cat wasn’t too happy with being trapped in a carrier, much less with once again putting up with children in the plane.

So there you were, uncomfortable against the window with a whiny cat. You hated window seats and although planes were fine, you were sick of them.

Bucky picked you up at the airport without a word. He helped you with your luggage while you freed Fatatita from the carrier.

She snuggled up on your lap once you were in the car, but Bucky didn’t start the engine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he softly asked.

You would’ve preferred that he yelled at you. Maybe he would once you explained yourself.

“My plan was to join The Angels.”

He didn’t yell. “What?”

“I was lonely.”

“You have a cat. You could’ve gotten another one or something. Anything that wasn’t that.”

“Yeah, and I love Fatatita,” you said indignantly as you massaged her head, “but she can’t talk or hug me back.”

You loved her snuggles, she was a sweet cat and you wouldn’t have survived the last six years without her. But she wasn’t human.

Painfully, you added, “I feel like I don’t belong here. You have Sam and his family already, you have a home...”

”We’ve invited you to join.”

You didn’t fit in with Bucky or with Sam, much less with Sam’s family — they sounded like nice people, but if Sarah was half as intuitive as Sam, she would be able to tell you were uncomfortable and you didn’t want to offend anybody.

You hated being alone and yet every path you took seemed to lead to loneliness. Maybe it was time to accept you had idealized your dad and he couldn’t live up to the standard.

Or maybe that wasn’t the issue, maybe you were as a whole. Living with it was your only option.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing is.”

Yeah, nothing was easy, but this thing particularly was kicking your ass.

════════════════════════

Things between you and Bucky were tense. He took great offense after you confessed you had considered going back to Seraph so he barely spoke to you.

You had only heard updates about Joaquín — or better said, the lack of updates about him.

Focusing on work or anything that wasn’t the phone on the table next to the couch was practically impossible.

Sam’s call eventually came through. He said Joaquín was alive which wasn’t relieving for either you or Bucky.

You wanted to hear that he was safe and sound. Alive was good, but not enough. Not when you knew exactly the type of things Ophelia was capable of.

“Bring a jacket,” Bucky told you. He couldn’t hide how mad he was — his voice was rough.

You silently complied, making sure to leave water for Fatatita.

On your way to the hospital, you tried to find something to say. The silence was unbearable, but you couldn’t help but think you would be a bigger nuisance.

Bucky pulled into the vast parking lot and found a good parking spot in no time.

You didn’t want to go there. Your mind had already run wild and the things you could encounter terrified you.

Fear seemed like a distant experience from a naive child. You hadn’t been raised like this.

But you hadn’t been raised to love anybody and yet you were, so full of love you would have rather died.

“I’ll wait here.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stretched his arm to open the passenger door. “You are not staying here.”

Huffing, you got out of the car and waited for him to do the same. You slammed the door closed and he glared at you.

You immediately regretted listening to Bucky and coming to the stupid hospital. What were you even doing there? What would you fix?

Joaquín looked like shit. You could feel each hit as your eyes analyzed his bruised face. To make it worse, his left arm was wrapped and immobilized. You didn’t want confirmation he had more injuries — you didn’t need it.

“What did you find?” Bucky asked calmly.

Joaquín struggled to speak. “They’ve been doing experiments on people. Kids included.”

“And you didn’t think of telling anybody in case you needed backup?”

Bucky called your name sternly, warning you to shut up.

“No. He deserves it. They could’ve fucking killed him!”

Joaquín stammered. Of course he didn’t have a good answer. Of course he had to worry you sick even years later.

You felt actually sick to your stomach. Regret and anger often came hand in hand, but they had never made you feel like this.

“Let’s go outside,” Bucky commanded. “You need air.”

He pushed you out of the room and all along the hallway. People looked at you weirdly, surely wondering why you were being rushed out of the hospital.

If air had filled your lungs, you didn’t feel it. Stripping yourself off your jacket, you looked up at the sky. Why did you have to react like that?

Showing you cared never brought you anything positive. When you didn’t put people in danger, you ruined your relationships. And now you were just acting like an emotional idiot over nothing.

You punched the wall out of frustration.

It was not nothing.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bucky moved you away from the wall and further into the open-air parking lot. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His arm was tight around your shoulders.

“I just— I can’t believe him, dad! He’s always been this careless.”

Bucky became frozen.

“I know I’m being too emotional and I shouldn’t, I’m sorr—“

“Don’t.” Bucky tightened his grip on you. “Let it out, it’s okay. I’m here.” His voice broke. “Dad’s here.”

You hid your face in his jacket, for the first time in your life crying on your dad’s shoulder as he steadied you.

════════════════════════

You had to admit you missed the bus. New York wasn’t what people painted it as, much less the romanticized version your dad had presented you.

Either way, you were already there and you didn’t plan on moving out any time soon.

You were careful to not shake the reusable bag in your grasp too much. Bucky had never tasted your cookies and you would change that in a few minutes.

Memorizing the path towards the apartment was easy. Sam had given you a few tips so you wouldn’t have to call him all panicked because you were lost again. Luckily, he had gotten over it already.

Sarah was already at Sam’s and Bucky’s when you arrived. Apologizing for being late, you placed the homemade cookies you had brought on the table.

Sitting between Sam and Bucky, you asked Sarah, “You didn’t bring the kids?”

“Joaquín took them out for ice cream so we could talk about adult stuff,” she easily explained.

You glowered at Sam who had just served you a glass of lemonade.

“You’ve avoided him for too long,” he said.

“And you know exactly why.”

“I’ve heard both versions.”

You shook your head, knowing you wouldn’t win this argument. Sarah lifted her eyebrows.

“She’s as stubborn as her dad,” Sam told his sister.

“If I remember correctly, you used to refuse to admit you liked Bucky,” Sarah shot back.

“Don’t take her side!”

“No, no, Sarah, tell me more,” you encouraged her. “This is great material.”

She laughed, so did Bucky and eventually, Sam joined in.

The day you met Sarah had been bittersweet. She hadn’t held grudges against you for refusing to meet her and her children earlier and they welcomed you the same way they welcomed Bucky.

In contrast, you did hold that grudge against yourself. Yes, you hadn’t been ready to meet more people and were scared of not fitting in, but it wasn’t their fault.

The kids won you over the second you met them and the rest was history.

You tried to avoid glancing at the door when you heard the key sliding in, but you betrayed your pride and gazed at Joaquín the moment the door opened.

His face wasn’t bruised anymore and his hair was longer. He looked good, but that was to be expected.

You stood up to greet AJ and Cass, hugging them both. Joaquín smiled yet didn’t say anything.

As he parted from you, AJ asked, “You didn’t bring your cat today?”

“She’s at the apartment, probably asleep or enjoying her new cat tower.”

“You finally bought one!” Cass had given you the idea when you mentioned you wanted to find something for Fatatita to entertain herself. “She must be so happy.”

“Yup. Wanna see it? I’ve taken hundreds of photos.”

Both kids nodded. You unlocked your cellphone and patiently showed them the photos. The living room hadn’t been ideal for the cat tower so you put it in your office.

The problem, truly, was that the office was almost empty and you hated the color on the walls, but you hadn’t gotten around to buy paint.

Fatatita looked adorable in her cat tower, though. She would sometimes jump to the desk and lay on it, demanding attention. You never died her.

“You’ll get to see it in person soon,” you promised AJ and Cass.

Both kids were happy with such promise. They ran towards their mom, leaving you facing Joaquín. Once again, you couldn’t not stare at him.

“You look great,” he told you.

“Thanks.” You could’ve said he looked great too, but you didn’t want to make it awkward. “It’s good to see your arm isn’t broken anymore.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yeah...”

“I— Uhmm... I brought cookies.”

His face lit up. “I haven’t had one of your cookies in ages.”

You extended a hand in a welcoming gesture. “Help yourself.”

He didn’t move immediately and in consequence, neither did you. What ifs didn’t matter anymore, they didn’t even hurt that much — you just genuinely wished you could interact with him without feeling like you were crossing a line.

You used to be able to communicate without words, to know what he needed just by gazing at him from across the room. Joaquín would read your body language perfectly every single time and never once failed to respect your boundaries.

Not even the godforsaken evening he left.

Would the two of you ever be able to go back to what it was? You didn’t care if he still loved you — he probably didn’t. You wanted your best friend back.

“Anybody want anything from the kitchen?” Joaquín asked.

“Beer, please,” Sam replied.

Sitting back down, you drummed your fingers against your lemonade glass with no particular rhythm. You were being silly, there was no reason for you to be nervous.

Joaquín handed Sam his beer. He then stood behind you.

“Here.” He placed a glass full of ice in front of you. Crushed ice.

Okay, maybe there was a reason for you to be nervous. Something you hadn’t been on your first date or even the day you met him.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Bucky kissed the side of your head. You leaned into your dad’s warmth, letting the others speak. You were getting better at joining into their conversations, but this time you simply couldn’t focus.

His eyes were on you and yours would’ve been on him if you weren’t resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder.

You used to fantasize about something like this. A family afternoon, Joaquín and your dad getting along...

You lifted your head off Bucky’s shoulder and sighed. “I should get going. I’m still getting used to the subway.”

“Want me to drive you a little bit later?” Bucky offered. “I don’t get drunk.”

“I can drive her if she wants,” Joaquín said.

Bucky looked at him then nodded. “If she wants.”

The answer should’ve been no, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone. “Sure.”

So you stayed until Joaquín had to leave. Sam’s eyes lingered on you as you said your goodbyes — his hug was tight, an attempt to remind you things would be okay.

Bucky hugged you even tighter, almost lifting you off the floor. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he whispered in your ear before parting from you. Your dad kissed your forehead before watching you go.

It wasn’t the first time Sam or Bucky tried to encourage you to talk to Joaquín. You weren’t dumb, you knew he had offered to drive you because he wanted to say something.

Had they planned it all out? You hoped they hadn’t.

The night sky was clear, perfect for a long walk. Although long walks in New York were different, they were a good vehicle to get used to the environment which your therapist would’ve loved for you to do. Oh, well, another night it would be.

════════════════════════

“You can drop me at the subway station.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want me to know where you live, but I offered to drive you home.”

Home. It still felt like a dirty word. He didn’t say it to mock you, there was no malice in his voice. Once again, you were the problem.

You gave him the address, explaining the directions Sam had given you to not get lost. Joaquín only hummed in acknowledgment.

After a mostly silent drive, you weren’t sure your assumptions from earlier had been correct. Maybe he was just trying to be nice and your brain had played you.

It was probably for the best in the general scheme of things, but you had to admit you were disappointed.

He stopped the car in front of the building. Neither of you attempted to move.

“Can we talk?”

You nodded. “Here? In the car, I mean.”

“Wherever you feel comfortable.”

You both knew where things could go if you dared to invite him in. But you still did.

The elevator was thankfully empty. The space between your bodies almost disgusted you. The last time you had been in an empty elevator with him, neither of you had been able to take your hands off each other.

Turning the lights on, you apologized, “Sorry for the mess. I have a lot of things to organize still.”

You walked towards the couch and picked the box you had left there up. Something moved inside.

A hiss let you know Fatatita was inside the box. You reached in and held her between your arm and your chest.

You put the box on top of the other boxes stacked up against the wall. And motioned for Joaquín to get comfortable.

Fatatita shifted in your grasp so you slowly put her down onto the floor. The cat ran towards the kitchen.

You tried not to stare at Joaquín. The more you did, the more you wanted to bury your fingers in his curls.

“Sam told me what you did,” he quietly told you.

“It’s nothing.”

“You had to move because of me.”

“It was bound to happen,” you said simply as though it hadn’t been one of the hardest decisions you had ever had to make.

He looked down. You hoped he was thinking the same thing you were. ’It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.’

“I’m sorry for not telling you who my dad was.”

“I’m not going to say it didn’t hurt, or that I get why you did it,” he admitted, “but I hope you know I would have dropped everything to help you find him.”

“I know,” you assured him quickly. “That’s why I never said yes, it wouldn’t have been fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“You wanted to join The Air Force more than anything. Your eyes would lit up when you talked about it and I didn’t have the heart to pull you away from your dream.” You let out a small sigh, perfectly picturing him, so hopeful and excited. “And I wanted to, I really did, but you deserved better.”

“But you were part of that dream.”

“You know how much I’ve always hated not having a home, but you still wanted me to move every few years.” It was never going to work, no matter how desperately you wanted it to.

“So I wasn’t enough?” He masochistically peered up.

“Wha— who said that? Why are you putting words in my mouth?”

“Because you would have moved every few years with me. I was only going to leave when deployed. I had all of it planned. We would get married eventually so you’d live with me at the base and...” he trailed off.

Whether he was trying to spare your feelings or to find the right words was irrelevant. You stayed silent, in part because you didn’t know what to do but mostly because you knew him well and were sure he wanted to finish his comment.

“I thought waiting for you was proof that I was serious about us. I asked you to move with me. WITH me, not for me.”

You sat down too. You didn’t need him to remind you or to make emphasis on his words — you had understood what he wanted from the beginning; you wanted the same for the most part, but not like that.

Compromising would’ve been good. Healthy. You wouldn’t be in this mess now. But comprising entailed a specific kind of vulnerability you were afraid you would never recover from.

And you lost Joaquín because of that.

“I was scared and I already said sorry. What else do you want me to do?”

He twisted to face you. “Don’t get defensive, we’re just talking.”

“I just...” You wanted to say a lot of things. If you had drunk alcohol you would’ve let them all out at once and finally, the nuisance from the pills was paying off. “I don’t want you to hate me. That’s all.”

“You can’t possibly think I hate you.”

You shrugged. “I sorta resented you for a while.”

“How did you get over it?”

Lying would have been so easy, but you couldn’t when he was implying you had gotten over him. There had been other people in your life after him and you had ruined those relationships too, but none of them hurt like this.

“I didn’t.”

He sat there, unmoving as he stared at you as if he was waiting for you to tell him it was a joke.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“Please don’t make it awkward,” you begged him. “We can forget this conversation happened. You will go back to Vegas and I will stay here, it’s okay.”

Everything would be okay. This was just the closure your therapist said you needed.

Joaquín broke it to you, “I live here.”

Speechless, you felt your blood drop to your feet. Deep breaths and counting to ten were as effective as ever and at the same time didn’t cut it. Only you had this luck.

“Sam didn’t tell you I’m Falcon now?”

Now Sam’s and Bucky’s attitude made complete sense.

“He forgot that small detail.” As you recovered your ability to speak, you stressed, “The offer stands. We can forget this conversation happened.”

“I don’t want to forget about it.”

“We can’t do this, Joaquín. Not again — last time was hard enough.”

He enthusiastically nodded. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.” Seeing your apprehension, he added, “As much as I want to, I’m not asking you to immediately get back with me.”

“What are you asking for, then?”

“Another chance? A fresh start? I don’t know. I miss you and I want to be with you, but I’m not going to force you.”

“It’s not that you would be forcing me,” you clarified, “I miss you too, a lot. And the excuses I could give you are minimal, maybe a little petty...” He huffed a laugh. You continued, finally explaining yourself, “I’m scared we won’t really get past what happened.”

Joaquín placed his warm hand on your shoulder. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

You rested your hands on his shoulders, blinking rapidly. Sliding your hands to his back, you hugged him.

His free arm snaked your waist. Joaquín hid his face in your neck, moving his hand to the back of your head.

He shifted to kneel on the couch, making you lightly part from him. Your eyes met and you pulled him closer again before he would say anything.

Joaquín bit his bottom lip. “Can I kiss you?”

You kissed him first, tired of pretending you hadn’t been waiting for this since the day he left.

He softly kissed you back, bringing a hand to your face as he cupped your cheek. You relished in his warmth and gentleness, leaning into his touch and consequently kissing him harder.

Removing his arm from around you, he placed his hand on your belly and lightly pushed you onto your back. You ended up in an awkward position, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He hovered over you, fingers caressing your sides as he continued kissing you. You tangled your fingers in his curls as he deepened the kiss.

You rendered each other breathless, touch growing looser as both of you panted.

“So much for not rushing in,” you breathlessly joked against his mouth.

“Am I making you feel uncomfortable?” he panted.

“No, don’t worry.”

He hummed, leaving a small kiss on your jaw before dragging his lips to your neck.

“Although...” He immediately stopped. You chuckled. “My back hurts.”

Joaquín moved off you, standing up and offering his hand to you to help you sit up.

Instead, you stood up altogether and took his hand. He didn’t say no, he let you take him to your room.

You sat on the bed, tugging on his hand.

“Come here,” you needily said.

Joaquín happily complied, leaning in to kiss you again.

When you woke up the next morning, he was sound asleep next to you.

[nagichi-boop]

I’m gonna explain the situation behind my previous post cuz I think I’ve hit a bit of a rock bottom with my mental health and I’m not sure what to do.

TL;DR - Tried getting diagnoses from doctors for mental illness, didn’t go well. Need to get a health note for work benefits as I feel unable to do full time work (too stressful), but need to talk to a doctor for that. Unsure what to do (push for diagnosis, ask for health note for just anxiety first, suck it up and keep struggling, etc).

During lockdown I learned a lot about mental illness and neurodivergency. I’m not saying I’m self dxing, but I suspect I may have one or a combo of the following; autism, adhd, ocd, cptsd, DPDR. Currently none have been diagnosed - the only progress I’ve made is being referred to a (still closed) autism clinic which will likely take years to actually do anything.

A gp/doctor said that I have “severe depression and anxiety” (based on a questionnaire that took like 5 mins) on a call where I asked to be referred to a psychiatrist to be assessed tor diagnosis. I even brought up that I thought that I may have ocd. She asked where I got my info from and I said “online”, and she basically dismissed it after that. Like sorry I didn’t go to medical school, where else would I get my info?? But I literally spent hours a day researching mental disorders…hmm, kind of like an ocd compulsion, which is the disorder I gave as an example??

I also did CBT for a bit but hated it. The “therapist” (but probably not cuz apparently social workers are allowed to do CBT for the NHS) said she didn’t think diagnoses were helpful, that symptoms should be addressed. Every session she focused on social anxiety but it made me feel worse - either I’d say “I don’t know” to her questions and she’d push me for an answer and cause me to make something up (due to, uh oh, anxiety) or I would give an answer and she’d be like “that’s not a social anxiety thing, please read this worksheet with the symptoms for social anxiety”, which made me feel like an idiot. Anyways, maybe 4 sessions in I decided to quit because it was too stressful for me. Funnily enough when I told her I felt like I didn’t always know the answer, she said “when that happens, you need to say you don’t know”. LIKE LADY, THAT’S WHAT I DID!!

Needless to say the combo of the two things made me somewhat reluctant to try again to ask for help, so I’m STILL undiagnosed. Now you may be wondering why this is important.

Well, as of a few days ago, I am once again unemployed. Which means I need to (if I want money) go on benefits. The problem with that is they tend to expect you to dedicate your life to job searching and push you to take whatever comes up, which includes full time work. But I really don’t think I could do that. Even working 20 hours a week at my old job was mentally draining. I tried to bring up to the benefits people that I had anxiety and was referred to the autism clinic, but that’s not enough for them. They just told me I needed to get a health note from my doctor. And again, remember how that went before? How would I even ask for that?

I feel stuck. I know logically I should probably just try and talk to a different doctor or something, but I have no idea where to start. Do I bring up ocd? Or just say I’m generally struggling? Or ask to see a psychiatrist again? Do I ask for the health note first or try and get assessed so I know what I’m dealing with?

It’s gotten to the point where my brain is screaming “hurt yourself” or “you’re better off dead”. I feel so useless and dysfunctional.

As the icing on the cake, I don’t rly have a support system. I love my parents, but much like the counsellor I had, they think I have social anxiety and nothing else. They don’t think a diagnosis would help. And they don’t really react at all when I say I’m pretty much suicidal (like they seem unconcerned). It’s not because they don’t care, they just don’t understand (despite claiming to). I also don’t really have any friends, so no support there.

On a good day, I feel emotionally numb and/or disconnected from myself. On a bad day, it feels like there’s an intense pressure building up inside of me and it sucks cuz I can’t let it out and all I can think of is wanting to hurt myself to relieve the feeling. (Also just to to clarify, I don’t actively self harm and have not and have no plans to attempt suicide, but I also don’t have sort of outlet or support for when I have the urge to, so I just bottle it up.)

…any advice?

(Sorry for the long post)

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Household Planning (1/2)

Summary:  

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: Set in the same verse as  “Rough day”  and “Sugar Rush”

"You're taking a week off?"

Hange wished no one would be there when she dropped by the queen’s office to give the letter. It was painful as it is to fathom what the next week would be like. Making her way to her familiar office in civilian clothing and seeing Historia there in the room only added salt to the wound.

“I’ve asked Armin to take over first. It will only be for a week at the most,” Hange explained.

"No. Take as many days as you need. I don't think you've even taken the day off since the war ended." Historia gave Hange a reassuring smile as she placed the letter back in the envelope.

Hange was sure the queen would give the week off with no arguments. Queen Historia had always had been understanding about any excuses related to family. Somehow, the response had come as a big surprise to Hange. As she walked out of the office and into the courtyard, she felt the late afternoon breeze seep through the cotton of her civilian shirt. It felt oddly nostalgic and Hange was reminded that she had not taken a day off in years.  

“It’s not like I’m gonna be resting anyway.” Hange muttered to herself as she made her way through the courtyard and into the main road to call for a taxi.

"Where to, Ma'am?”

“Paradis Central Hospital.

20 hours earlier

Levi was usually the one who opened the door for her when she got home. That night, she was surprised to find their seven year old Luke by the door waiting for her.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Where’s daddy?” Hange asked as she helped her son stand up. The young boy’s eyes were drooping and Hange was sure he would fall asleep as soon as she put him to bed.

“Daddy’s asleep.”

“Really?” Hange glanced at the clock on the mantle as she carried Luke to his room.

It was only a quarter to nine and she had known Levi long enough to know he would never be asleep at that time. In fact, most nights he was the one who would welcome her home. He would be cleaning, organizing or mixing tea in the kitchen while she showered and got ready for bed. She always fell asleep to the clatters of plates and mugs, the clanks of pots and pans and the opening and closing of cupboards. Funnily, she always woke up to them too, a testament to the odd sleeping patterns of her partner.

Luke had fallen asleep in her arms. Hange lay him gently on his bed and put the blanket over him. As she turned off the lights and closed the door behind her, Hange was made aware of the fact that the house was unnaturally silent without the sounds of Levi tinkering with something in the kitchen. She hurried to the bedroom she shared with Levi to find him on the bed, his back to the door.

“Tiring day?”

Levi was a light sleeper. Some nights when Hange did wake up next to him, she could usually elicit a reply or reaction from him with almost any sound no matter how soft. At that moment though, Levi was not responding.

She approached the bed, letting her footsteps resound loudly on the wooden floor under her. He still did not react. Levi was covered up to his chin with blankets. Not wanting to disturb the set up, Hange rested her hand on his cheek, only to recoil at the heat being released.

How was he this morning?  Hange felt a twinge of guilt when she realized she did not remember much of it. She had still woken up to the same banging of pots and pans and a full breakfast. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hange asked, as she shook him lightly.

"Just… need to rest." Levi did not open his eyes. In fact, his face tensed as he said those words and Hange guessed that that slight effort was already causing him pain.

How much pain was he in?  They were both soldiers in another life and they both had higher pain tolerance than most people. It had set off some alarms inside her and Hange was considering calling a doctor then and there just to be on the safe side.

Am I overreacting? The last time Levi had needed medical attention, they managed in the middle of the forest with a little first aid.

Hange changed into her pajamas and settled on the bed next to him.

She scooched closer to him. The heat emitted from his body alarmed her but Hange reassured herself by focusing on the rhythm of his rough breathing. He was still very much alive.

“Just make sure to tell me if the pain gets worse. ” Hange whispered.

Levi let out what sounded like a whimper. A wave of concern washed over Hange. She put her arms around her partner, hoping that even just a little she could absorb the heat that was resonating from his skin.

She let the rhythm of his breathing lull her to sleep.

                                       Household Planning

When Hange woke up again, the sky was still dark. The sound of birds chirping just outside the window was enough though for Hange to conclude that it was at least late enough that the sun would rise soon.

“Good morning,” Hange whispered. His body was not as hot as it was the night before and Hange found herself squeezing her partner lightly in relief. “You scared me last night.”

“Hange…”  

Hange unwrapped her arms from around her partner and sat up. “You okay?”

Levi curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his stomach. “My stomach...hurts…”

Hange had seen Levi in worse situations in the battlefield but never in her life had she seen him so vulnerable. She had brushed off her worry the night before but as she took in her partner, lying curled up like a ball, the ragged breathing and the uncharacteristic whimpers, Hange conceded that she could not take the risk of omission. “Levi. I’m sorry I’m calling a doctor.”

Hange wished Levi had protested the whole set off. At the least, she wished he were conscious or aware enough to even notice a sleepy and confused Luke next by his bedside. He was lying prone on the bed as the doctor put his shirt up and ran his hands through the stomach area.

Hange’s blood ran cold as she watched Levi squirm in pain at lightest touch. She had worked with injured soldiers long enough to know it was a common symptom of internal injuries. The question that lingered was how exactly had it gotten to that point.

“This doesn’t look good Mrs. Zoe. We're going to have to get him to a hospital quick. He might need emergency surgery.”

“Do what you need to do.”

Hange walked out of the room and sat her son down on the living room sofa. She could hear the doctor making his way to the phone, quickly dialing a number and a few seconds later, he was rattling off vitals.

Hange had a fair amount of experience with first aid but the science and technology brought back from Marley was a tall order for her to master and Hange had to admit she probably would have only understood 70% of what the doctor had told the paramedics.

She spent the next few minutes explaining the situation to her son Luke over a quick breakfast and while walking him to school. Luke had ended up late as he had asked too many questions.

Why didn't daddy make breakfast?

Where are they taking daddy?

Are you okay mommy?

By the time Hange made it to the hospital, Levi was being prepped for surgery. He was completely unconscious as they unbuttoned his pajamas and switched it with a hospital gown.

Hange stayed nearby just in case he did wake up through it. She occupied herself by marveling at the improvements made in the hospital and the new developments by Marley. It was her first time back there for at least three years having shifted her focus into railways and street car installations.  A nurse put a needle through his wrist which was attached to a bag on a rack. Hange had forgotten the name of that invention but deduced that it was to get medicine into his system.                          

"How long will he be in surgery?" Hange asked.

The nurse shook her head. "We don't know the extent of the damage yet but internal bleeding of this severity should take at least two to three hours."

Internal bleeding. That usually meant certain death in the field. Hange could not help but think, if Levi had experienced that sickness only just a decade ago, he would have been dead.

"Thank you for all your hard work," Hange said.

She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to wait out until news on her partner came out. She made a brief detour to the outdoor payphone to call sick for the day. Armin would be able to take over anyway, he was very familiar at least with the plans Hange had for the transportation route through the city.

Hange could not shake the feeling that she would be missing out though. Her best ideas always came when she was in the office looking through blueprints and construction updates.

She willed herself to dial the familiar number of her office and explain her current situation.

Armin who had answered the phone was understanding and had given genuine well wishes to Levi. When Hange went back to the waiting room though, she started to reflect on the fact, that maybe the one who did not want the day off was just her.

As she sat back on the chair of the waiting room and looked up at the blank ceiling of the hospital, Hange knew she was miserable.

She was left to do what she had not done in years, sit idly by and wait.

                                        Household Planning

"A burst appendix with abscesses around his stomach area. It was pretty bad, a very high risk of infection. We will need to monitor him for at least a week and he'll be on a strict antibiotic plan for a while."

An appendix. She knew that organ. It was the useless organ yet it caused so much damage in Levi's system. "How long will he be…"

"We set up a room for him. He'll be staying for at least a week since we will need to monitor signs of post surgical infection and possible surgery again. He's not out of the woods yet."

Hange followed the doctor into one of the rooms on the third floor, noting that there were a lot more nurses making their rounds on that floor.

A nurse was there putting the covers over her partner when Hange arrived in. Her stomach dropped as she saw the tubes that all connected to some part underneath the blankets. Even for dying soldiers, she had never seen that type of medical treatment before and maybe if it hadn't been on Levi, she would have been excited at the prospect of seeing first hand the medical technology involved in keeping a patient alive.

At that moment though, her thoughts were all on Levi, how much he remembered, how much pain he was in and most importantly, if he were going to live through it.

Hange walked to his bedside and put her hand underneath the blanket, feeling for his hand. His hand was limp but it was neither too warm or too cold. She grasped his hand tighter, focusing on its warmth as a reprieve from the events of the past few hours.

"Hey four eyes, where's Luke?"

"He's in school…" Hange rubbed her eyes, still adjusting to the waking world.

"His classes are until eleven. It's one."

Hange sat up and look at the clock at the end of the room. "Wait what?" How long have I been sitting here?

Levi was half sitting up on the bed, conscious but groggy, looking particularly surprised. "Did you forget our kid?"

The realization of what had just happened dawned on Hange a split second too late. By then, Levi’s eyes narrowed into an accusing glare, a quick change from that of disbelief only a second ago.

Hange felt blood rush into her face "I’m sorry. A lot has been happening. You're stuck in the hospital… I don't know what to do…"

"Son first. Questions later."

                              Household Planning

The next question, Hange found herself tackling was where to take Luke. It was an obvious logistical choice yet it took Hange enough brain space that she ended up cringing at the state of her mind at that moment.

She had considered leaving him at home but could not come up with someone who could stay with Luke at a last minute request. She knew she would probably be with Levi for a while in the hospital, possibly until late night. It was a risk, leaving a child with a sick parent in a hospital ward but it at least trumped the idea of leaving him alone at home.

Somehow, leaving Luke with a sick, possibly immobile Levi, still seemed to be enough to give her some peace of mind.

"You promise to stay good, okay. Daddy needs rest," Hange said as they stood in front of the door to his room.

"Promise."

The promise was short lived. As soon as the door opened before him, Luke ran towards Levi's bedside and Hange had to grab him as he motioned to jump on the bed next to him.

"Daddy!"

"How was school?"

"I was the only one there. I thought nobody was going to pick me up."

Levi sneaked a glare at Hange with their son's last statement.

"Sorry Luke. Mommy got carried away. Daddy's going to be sick for a while and there was a lot to think about." Hange hugged her son from behind.

"How long will daddy be here?"

"A week at least," Levi answered.

So the doctor at least explained the situation to him.

Levi still looked like he was in pain and Hange wondered how much of his motions were a front he was putting up in front of their son.

"Mommy and Daddy need to talk. Could you give us some space?"

There were nurses all over the floor and Hange was sure at least one of them would have the time to take care of a kid. It was a quick search and within a few minutes of going out into the hallway, she at least had the peace of mind that someone was taking care of her son. The fact the nurse was helping with homework was an added bonus.

"I feel like shit," Levi admitted as Hange entered the room once again.

"You're doing great. I thought you'd be asleep the whole day to be honest."

"I don't think I'd even be able to relax anymore. Imagine waking up to realize my wife forgot about our kid."

Hange gave her husband an apologetic smile. "Just give me a list of everything I need to get done, everyday. While you're here. I'll get it done."

"Don't you have work?"

                                    Household Planning  

By evening, Hange had filed her leave for the week, she had her to do list on hand and Luke was at least distracted with toys she had just bought him from the gift shop next to the hospital.

Her first challenge was dinner. She had the cooking skills but the way everything in the household was sorted out made Hange hesitate to touch anything.

It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and stalked by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook.

In the cupboard, they were so tightly stacked on top of one another that Hange feared that she would break something just by pulling something out.

Hange sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she was still left shocked by the events of that morning. Less than 24 hours ago, she would not have imagined having to learn to navigate the household all by herself.

I'm gonna need a while to adjust.

"Luke, we're going out to buy dinner."

                                Household Planning  

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Omelette!"

30 minutes to eight. Luke should be in school by eight.

"It's pretty late for an omelette… What about bread?" In fact, Hange did know Luke liked omelettes. She did not want to admit it to her son yet but although she had spent a fair half an hour looking through the kitchen, she could not find the eggs.

The only food stored places within reason were the bread and the fruits which were displayed in a basket and a bowl on the kitchen table. The bread was covered in cloth, neatly folded when she found it though. As she put back the bread after eating it that morning, she could not recreate that same intricate folding pattern Levi had done.

"There were eggs in the fridge."

Where? Who puts eggs in the fridge?

Hange chose to pretend to ignore it. "Let's just get you to school. What time do I need to pick you up?"

"Two." Luke was avoiding her gaze and Hange could tell he was trying to hide disappointment.

"I'll take note of that." Hange took a pen from her kitchen table and wrote the time on her wrist. "Just eat this for breakfast." She wrapped a piece of bread on paper and dropped it in his bag.

It's my first time having to be the one to cook breakfast, of course there will be a few bumps.

"I didn't know where you put the eggs so I just gave him bread for breakfast."

"Where did you think the eggs were?" Levi asked, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his gaze. Hange inferred that it could have also been from the meager breakfast he was given that morning of pudding and fruit which Levi was mixing as he listened to the developments that morning.

“I looked everywhere, the cupboards, the storage, I even checked our bedroom.”

“It’s in the refrigerator.”

“And that’s what Luke said. I checked it after dropping him at school but it wasn’t there.”

“I put it towards the back so it wouldn’t break if it ends up accidentally falling out.”

The new refrigerators that came from Marley were a welcome improvement to the icebox that most people in Paradis were used to. Having busied herself with other things, Hange never really bothered to learn its different compartments. It looked like Levi did not want her to learn it either. The latter had preoccupied himself buying them at the best bargain when they were finally available and had spent a fair amount of days since they got it, organizing and reorganizing all their spoilable goods.

“Why do you put your eggs in the refrigerator? Even if you leave it out, it won’t go bad.”

“It’s an animal product, you don’t know what it touched.”

Levi had researched his household plan well and Hange only appreciated it more when Levi took a pen and paper and drew the fridge compartments, perfectly from what she had remembered. He explained the contents compartment by compartment, with the rationale for each.

“Why don’t we keep the eggs in the compartments by the fridge door? You cook them everyday.”

“The sudden temperature changes can make the eggs go bad faster.”

“Why put vegetables in the lowest compartment?”

“Vegetables in the drawer below because this compartment has higher humidity levels for fresh produce.”

Levi made sense. Hange had done her fair share of experiments to quickly understand Levi’s logic behind everything. She was still taken aback by how far he had thought ahead and how meticulous the whole process of organizing the refrigerator was for him. It almost made her hesitant to take anything out of the fridge for fear of destroying any part of the intricate plan Levi had set up for all their spoilable goods.

Levi dropped the pen and sighed. “So I’m assuming you didn’t get any cooking done if you still don’t know where everything is. What did you pack Luke for lunch then?”

                                    Household Planning  

Levi probably would not have approved of Luke enjoying a late lunch of two soft serve ice creams and a slice of bread. That was the only way Hange saw herself pacifying the young boy who looked to be on the verge of crying and shouting at his mother when she picked him up from school. At the same time, the reminder from Levi was enough for Hange to at least have enough motivation to remember to show up on time to pick him up.

“Don’t tell your father about this.” She muttered, as she led him through the market. Levi had left her a grocery list before she left to pick up Luke from school. At that point, she was determined at least to not fuck up the grocery shopping.

Another tray of eggs, bread, spinach, oranges, apples. The list was straightforward. When Levi and Hange had planned the list, they considered the easiest things for Hange to prepare, cook, eat and store for the next week while Levi’s fate was still undecided. She only had to buy enough for the two of them at least.

The markets were designed that all types of produce and goods could be caught with one loop around the market. In thirty minutes, Hange had gone through everything on the list.

As Hange made her way to the exit of the market, she felt a tug on her hand. “What are you looking at?” Hange followed her son’s gaze to see the tea and coffee shop on the side.  

“Daddy might want tea.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He only has three more bags left at home.”

                                    Household Planning            

Hange had dreaded the process of storing the food she had bought. She imagined having to empty the fridge and make wild guesses on where Levi would have wanted each product and whether or not she angled them in a way where it would be most convenient for those who opened it or less likely to spill.

Levi had explained a lot of it to her but many parts of it were going quickly into one ear and out the other due to the detail he put into such mundane concepts. She found that the crazy amount of detail and the fact that she possibly left things out, had left her blank at what exactly to do when she opened the refrigerator door.

“Daddy likes the stem facing outwards.” Luke pointed out as he grabbed the spinach from the bag and put it inside the half open vegetable drawer.

“The eggs?”

“You have to push the cheese out of the way when you put the eggs in. Tray opening facing outside...”

Hange at least knew where the fruits and the bread went. She lined up the fruit bowl and the bread basket on the kitchen table and added the fruits she had bought from the market on to the pile.

Luke reached out for the oranges on the top and distributed them evenly towards the edges of the bowl. “Daddy said it might fall if you let them sit unevenly on a pile.”

Hange unfolded the cloth on the bread basket and put the bread inside. She attempted once again to fold it similarly to what Levi had been doing before. Luke scooched closer to her and Hange could only gape as Luke deftly folded it into the same tight pattern she had seen it in that morning.

“Daddy taught you all of this?”

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Quarantine Pt.1

I did it! I posted it "today" (at least in my timezone)! Unfortunately, I don't know how to SHUT THE F*** UP, so this will need to be two parts. I'm sorry about that, but I hope you still enjoy!

Warm. He felt too warm, kicking off the blankets, panting as he tried to cool down. A function he rarely uses activates, water coating his skin, sweating. The heat was the least of his problems. Every joint, synthetic muscle, even every wire that compiled his nervous system hurt. A throbbing pain that won't leave him alone. 

He was a fool.

Connor should have stayed home. Fowler had even offered him paid leave until a firewall or antivirus was created, but he was an advanced android. He had far more advanced security measures than the average android. Only Nines could match it. So many androids are under a Stay-At-Home order, but both RKs are considered essential workers, and they were happy to continue to keep the peace. He was so sure he couldn't be infected.

Two rookies had gone to break up a public meeting of androids at a park. They ended up arresting one on assault of an officer. What the rookies failed to do was announce that they had an android in custody. The virus spreads by forcing wireless connection, passing it when an infected android comes within 10ft of another android. For this reason, any androids brought into custody needed to be announced so any android personnel could vacate to the area.

 Connor, both unfortunate and fortunate, was the only android in the bullpen when they walked by. A flash of code, followed by a buzzing sensation was his only warning, which was more warning than any other android received. When the rookies locked the android in a quarantine cell downstairs, Connor reprimanded the two officers, writing them up and sending the information for Capt. Fowler to review, along with a note that he needed to enter quarantine himself, as a precaution. He still believed that he would be fine. His programming will destroy it.

Fowler agreed, allowing him to go home once he was tested positive by the technician on duty, aka you. He immediately headed to the android repair ward, which you deemed a "glorified nurse's office". Before he entered, he informed you he was on his way, receiving the go-ahead that no other androids were there.

"Oh my god, Connor! Not you too!" You exclaimed. You were moving frantically, your hair out of place. With three of the five technicians working in the precinct being androids, you have been kept exceedingly busy, sleeping in shifts with the other technician, Cleon, on the small couch in your office. You've been pressing the department to hire more help, but they are slow-moving with your requests. 

He watched as you sent a report, grabbed a device, answered a call, jotted down an address, before moving back to him.

"Open up, " you requested, and he revealed the port on the nape of his neck. You hastily shoved the wire from the appliance in your hand into his port, making him wince. You didn't notice as you shoved the device in his hands and went about re-filling an emergency repair bag, adding cold compresses and thirium you had stored in a freezer. After a few minutes, the device beeped twice and you yanked the cord out of his neck. He grunted, rubbing at his poor, abused port. You looked at the screen and finally froze. You read over the data several times, hoping you were reading it wrong.

"Shit... Dammit! Fuck!" You cursed. Connor surmised that it was not good, but you have yet to address him. Instead, you took the note and the bag, going into your office and tossing the bag on Cleon's stomach, making him jump. "Take care of this, please, " you call to him before grabbing a stack of papers from your desk and leaving the office and the repair ward completely.

 Connor got up and went to the door, watching you march into Fowler's office. Cleon squeezed past him, still very much asleep and probably cursing the fact that he is low man on the totem pole. In Fowler's office, things were getting heated based on your body language, but he couldn't see your lips to determine what you were saying. Eventually, you dropped the stack of papers on his desk, jabbing at them before storming out.

"Come on, Connor, you're coming with me, " you demanded, giving him no choice but to follow you out. You were kind of freaking him out. He already knew he was positive, but his systems will take care of it. You have yet to say anything about it though, going to the car and pulling out your phone. You switched it to auto-drive as Connor sat in the passenger seat. He preferred to drive, enjoying the simple tasks. Why can't he drive while you make your phone calls?

"Hey, Hank, " you called Hank? That makes sense. He was out to lunch when the incident happened, "Connor tested positive." He could hear the lieutenant cursing and shouting into the phone.

"I don't fucking know! I'm taking him home now and we'll be out for the next two weeks, " two weeks? He can't be out that long! Especially during a crisis! You must know he isn't the average android! He'll be fine by tomorrow!

 "Yes, I already talked to Fowler... I gave him a stack of applications! I warned him that if Connor or Nines got it, I'd need to be their primary, so he can fuck off!" When did you do that? "Yeah, I'll talk to him next... No, it doesn't work like that. Alright, bye." Connor thought you were done and he'd get some answers, but instead, you called someone else.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know, Connor tested positive, " heat settled in his cheeks. Were you telling everyone? "No, you are going to stay away.... Don't give me that bullshit! It works faster on advanced firewalls! That's why we haven't been able to stop it yet!" What? That's it. Connor wanted answers and he wanted them now. He grabbed your phone, briefly seeing the image of his stoic brother holding Gavin in a headlock before he hung up and tossed the phone in the backseat. You only stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What are you talking about?" He bared down on you. You were scaring him. He thought he was going to be fine, that it wouldn't affect him. 

"This virus is designed for military-grade androids, which regularly upgrade their security programs. Your advanced programming makes you an easier target."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He felt a bit betrayed. You withheld that important information from him, you, who he trusts more than anyone.

"I'm sorry! Honestly, I thought I did!" You tried to think back, but your mind was a scrambled mess with how exhausted you are. You were lucky If you got 8 hours for the whole week. Connor noticed how distressed you were, so certain that you had told him.

"What... What's going to happen to me?" The car pulled up into the driveway, but neither moved to get out. He knew some of the symptoms, but believing he was safe, he didn't study it extensively.

"It's similar to a really bad flu in humans. Fever, body aches, coughing, and the like. Symptoms will probably start appearing over the next couple days, " you take his hand, "don't worry, I'm going to take care of you." He gently pulled his hand away and got out of the car. He knew you meant well and you didn't mean to forget to inform him, but he still felt hurt, and he was dreading what the following days are going to be like. 

He unlocks the door of his shared house, SJ waiting at the doorway already. Connor reached up and grabbed his leash. A walk should calm his mind.

"Connor? Connor, wait!" You called out to him and he realized why. He can't walk SJ. He's infectious, and it's his responsibility to keep others safe. Reluctantly, he hands you the leash, bending down to pet SJ, then mopes back into the house.

Seeing him like this broke your heart, and knowing you neglected to tell him of his vulnerability filled you with guilt.

"SJ, what am I going to do?" You whine at the oversized pup. He looked up at the mention of his name and snorted before returning to smelling a lamppost. Well, that was useless. If Connor was human, you would make him his favorite meal as an apology, but that wasn't an option. You didn't mean to forget! There were so many things going on, and you had reminded yourself so many times, you legitimately thought you told him. Now, he is sick and it's all your fault. How do you even begin to apologize for that? 

Then there was the virus itself. It was a terrorist act, and the FBI was already investigating it. Someone or some group had created this virus with the intent to take out as many military-grade androids as possible, so as to weaken the USA's army. What they didn't anticipate was how it spread. All androids could be affected by it, even foreign-built ones, and while it wasn't as deadly as they probably would have liked, without proper care, some androids have shut down from it. While it originated in the Artics, it has since traveled globally, resulting in a halting of the economy worse than even the Android revolution caused. 

SJ finished his business and when you were done cleaning up after him, you both made the trek back home. Connor might not be able to leave the house, but he can still play fetch in the backyard. At least until he starts showing symptoms, you thought gloomily. Once you get home, you're gonna need to do a run-down of what you have and will need for the next two weeks. You know you'll need to stick some thirium in the freezer for when his fever spikes. Maybe you should pick up some fruit-flavored popsicles. Connor usually enjoys them, since it's one of the few food items he can eat without affecting his systems. 

"I'm back, " you called out. Connor was still pouting, sitting on the couch. He didn't even bother turning on the tv, preferring to ruminate in his depression. Unclipping SJ, you moved to behind the couch, throwing your arms around the pouty deviant. SJ settled in his bed, ready for an undeserved nap.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you, " you mumbled against him. He sighed, long and heavy before relaxing into your grasp.

"I can't fault you completely. You've been overworked, and you are not an android with perfect recollection, " he spoke lowly.

"Rub it in, why don't ya?" You joke, earning a small laugh.

"I've never been sick before, " you could hear the worry in his voice.

"I know. I'll take care of you, I promise."

"You should be at work. Mr. Sunderland can't handle it by himself."

"Who?" Who the fuck is Mr. Sunderland?

"You don't know Cleon's last name?" Connor asked incredulously, "wasn't he your trainee?"

"He was, but I just called him either 'trainee' or Cleon. In any case, this is just what the precinct needed to "inspire" them to bring on some extra help. I already did the interviews and checked credentials. I literally did all the work for them!" You kissed his temple, right where his LED is, watching it flicker, "I swore if something happened to you or Nines, I would take care of you both. I'm registered to care for both models. If I didn't, you would have to go to the hospital to receive treatment." Both androids hate the hospital, Nines especially. You don't know why, but it seems to be the only thing he fears. 

"But, if Nines gets sick now-"

"I will travel between here and his place to check on him. I've also discussed this with Gavin, even giving him a run-down on the basics. Nines would be fine. You are my concern right now, so if you start to feel odd, even if you think it's not a big deal, I need you to tell me, okay?"

"Okay, " Connor agreed. You settled back against him, but he wasn't satisfied. Turning slightly, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you over, onto his lap. You laughed as he snuggled against you, peppering you with kisses. The android had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, not that you really minded. You'll just have to make the list of things you need in your head.

"I have at least 24 hours, correct? Might I make a final request?" He murmured against your cheek.

"You're not dying, you know that right?" You giggled.

"Is that a no?" He gazed at you, pouting his lip, pulling off his trademark puppy dog face.

"As if that's ever an option, " you purred, kissing his nose, then his cheek, down his jaw before teasing him with a peck next to his lips. When you went to do it again, he turned his head and caught your lips.

"You're right, " he speaks against you, "it's not."

...........

You weren't able to escape his grasp until almost 3 am, body aching and satiated. Connor was in stasis, lying on his side in bed, blanket draped over his hips. It isn't common for you to be awake while he sleeps, but usually you try to soak up every second. He looks so peaceful, relaxed, and nothing like the relentless hunter he is at work. You had an obligation, however, and you weren't going to fail him again. Carefully, you pull the blanket up over his shoulders, his LED flickering a few times before slowing once again.

Taking one last look, you begrudgingly head into the kitchen, taking a couple of bottles and pouches of thirium from the fridge and sticking them into the freezer. Next, you headed for your emergency kit, checking for your iv needles and how much numbing lotion you had. Satisfied, you looked for your Liquid Ice. You looked all throughout your bag, even dumping the contents on the floor, but you could not find it.

"Shit, " you mumbled under your breath. Cyberlife stores are having trouble keeping it in stock. If they're out, you might need to sneak into work and grab a bottle, or message Hank. He'd do it for you. You take the time to organize your bag while picking up the spilled contents. A nose blocks your hand from grabbing your tube of liquid rubber-stoppers. 

"SJ, shoo!" You whisper yelled, "I don't need help." SJ looked at you and snorted, right in your face. Disgusted, you wipe your face on the sleeve of your robe, "you really are your daddy's child, aren't you." Grabbing the last items, you push on his head to stand back up, patting his head, "I need to run to the store real quick to help Con. Think you can keep an eye on him for me until I get back?"

SJ let out a low borf, "good boy!" You patted his head once more before going into the bedroom to get dressed. Connor was still asleep, so you quickly found some clothes and started to put them on. The dog, though, saw the vacant spot in bed. With the same amount of grace Hank has after a few drinks, SJ scrambled into the bed. 'Wow, just dance all over my grave, why don't you,' you thought.

Connor stirred, opening his eyes and expecting to see his enchanting lover, he is instead met with a hairy beast looking down at him. SJ leaned down and gave him a lick on the cheek.

You come around to his side of the bed, hand on his shoulder as he tries to get up.

"Where are you going?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep. A simple stasis update, but boy, could that voice get you going. 

"I gotta run to the store. I'll be right back, " you murmur.

"It's 3:42 in the morning."

"Which means no crowds. Store down the road is still doing three shifts. I wanna get supplies before you start showing symptoms. Just go back to sleep, ok? and I'll be back before you know it."

Usually, Connor would fight you on it, insisting it can wait or wanting to come with you. This time, he simply nods, laying his head back on the pillow. He felt... tired. It probably is a good idea, that way you'll be here when he needs you. He felt your lips on his temple, along with a whispered 'I love you'.

"I love you, too, " he hums, slipping back into stasis. 

............

When he woke up again, he wished he never did. Now, he was lying in bed, drenched in artificial sweat, body aching. When he tried to turn off his sensors, the program immediately kicked back on, an instant of excruciating pain before dropping back down. He looked over, praying you would be there, but even SJ had left when the deviant started tossing in his sleep, leaving your side vacant. He tried calling for you, but his throat burned. The action triggered a coughing fit, which made everything so much worse. When it subsided, he pulled his hand away, seeing blue blood dotting his palm. 

You rushed in when you heard the coughing, having been putting up groceries. One look told you how miserable he felt, the virus starting to run its course. Grabbing a tissue from your nightstand, you sat next to him and wiped his hand.

"Don't worry, that's normal, " you spoke, tossing the used tissue in the trash before feeling his forehead, as if it wasn't obvious he was overheating, "you're really warm." 

"I know, " he rasped. 

"Come on, I've already ran you a cool bath, " you helped Connor to his feet, guiding him to the bathroom. His vision kept swimming, and his gyroscope was malfunctioning, making the room spin. You tried to keep a firm grasp on the disoriented deviant, despite how slick his skin is. After a few failed attempts, he managed to step into the tub, relying heavily on you as you eased him down, letting him lie back against the wall.

 The water was cool, but not cold. Pleasant. You took a small pitcher and filled it with water, tipping his head back and pouring it over his scalp. He sighed at the small relief, enjoying the cooling sensation. You did it a couple more times, until some of the color left his face.

"I'm gonna go switch the sheets and find you some shorts to wear, okay?" 

He hummed, sinking down further into the tub, nose just above the water.

"Please, don't drown." 

He hummed again, making no moves to sit up higher. It didn't put your mind at ease, but you'll only be a moment. You shot Hank a text, asking if he could swipe a can of Liquid Ice for you, then you pulled the blankets off the bed, sheets soaked from Connor's feeble attempts to keep cool. You peered into the bathroom as you walked to the laundry room, making sure he didn't sink any lower. You started the wash and grabbed fresh linens, checking on Connor, making the bed, checking on Connor, grabbing some supplies, then grabbing him a pair of basketball shorts and re-entering the bathroom. 

The water was starting to warm, which you figured was going to happen. Connor was simply sitting there, eyes half-lidded but unblinking, his LED in a constant state of yellow. He focused on the cooling water, trying to forget his aches and pains. Was this how you felt last year, when you caught the flu? It's no wonder your mood had been so volatile.

"You ready to get out?" his eyes slowly landed on you before he started to stand, bracing himself against the wall. You immediately reached out, ready to help. He managed to get out of the tub before being hit with another coughing fit, crumpling to the floor and taking you with him. The violent fit triggered a gag reflex, body trying to clear his airways and cool down. Thirium poured from his mouth, staining the floor blue. You rubbed his back, comforting him until his breathing evened out. He tried to grab a hand towel from the tub to clean it up, but you stopped him.

"I got it. Let's get you back in bed, " easing him up, you moved around the mess, grabbing a towel and walking him to the bedroom.

"Sorry, " Connor huffed while you helped him into his shorts. He sat down, legs aching so much more just by standing. 

"Don't be. You're sick, and I'm partially to blame, " you took the towel and gently ruffled his hair, "I told you I'm here to take care of you and that's exactly what I'm going to do." You had grabbed some extra pillows, so when he laid back he was gently propped up. You took some adhesive ice packs and stuck one on the base of his neck, one on his forehead, and one on his chest, right over his thirium pump. 

"How do you feel?" You ask.

"Everything... hurts, " he manages to answer. You grab a bottle of lotion and start rubbing it all over him. Instantly, he could feel his body go numb.

"This stuff disrupts the impulses to your sensors. It won't work if the pain is too strong, but it's good for minor aches." In a way, you were envious. Any pain relief you want, you have to wait to kick in, "how's your thirium level?"

"92%." Too early to fill. If you want his body to cool down, it would need to be below 80%.

"Well, there is something I got for you that I think you might like, " you smile down at him before pulling out a jar and a spoon, "lucky for you, raw honey is safe for you to consume even with a fever and it should help your throat." You took a spoonful and put it to his lips. He happily took it, letting it coat his mouth and drip down his throat. Connor loves honey. He could feel it soothing the burn. You gave him two more spoonfuls before setting it aside. 

"You should get some rest while you can, love, " you stroke his cheek.

"Stay with me?" He now understands why you don't want to be alone when you're sick, "at least until I enter stasis?" You move to lay on his other side, so he can reach the trash can if need be.

"Sure."

[need-a-new-hobby]

Amplification

It was Sunday. Piper finally had a day off. So, why the hell was she still at work? She eyed the mountain of paperwork on her desk maliciously. “Maybe don’t murder the files.”

“You know, Gideon never told me there’s be this much paperwork, Jayje.” She accepted the cup of coffee from JJ and leaned back in her chair.

“It’s worth it though, right?”

“Every damn day.” Piper laughed. “Why are you still here anyway? Go, be with your son. Be free.” JJ laughed.

“Nah, Will’s spending the day with him and I know better than to be between two boys.” Piper nodded slowly until JJ’s cell buzzed. “Okay, thank you. I’ll alert the team as soon as possible. Yes, thank you.” She flipped the cell shut, slipping it into her pocket.

“What’s up?”

“We have a case. It’s bad.”

“How bad?”

“Remember Amerithrax?”

“No,” Piper whispered.

“It’s worse. Can you call Emily and Garcia? I’ll try and reach Derek and Spencer.” Piper nodded dutifully, reaching for her phone. Hotch walked in with a young Asian woman while Piper was on the phone with Garcia. Done with her first job, she rushed up to Hotch’s office. JJ went to update Piper, only to see her already in Hotch’s office being introduced to the doctor and throw something down her throat. She saw Piper nod to something Hotch directed and scramble to her desk with a file in hand. She gave JJ a quick hug before grabbing the keys to her Yamaha downstairs and helmet from under her desk.

About a half hour later, Spencer walked into the bullpen, only to see it covered with people in military uniform. Emily and Derek caught up to him. “What the hell is going on?” Derek’s voice was a murmur and they weaved through the crowd to the conference room to meet JJ, a young Asian doctor, Hotch and Rossi. Spencer noticed someone missing, but before he could voice it, Derek repeated the question and JJ explained.

“Guys, this is Dr. Linda Kimura, chief of special pathogens with the CDC. Last night, 25 people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2 pm yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It's now just past 7 a.m. The next day, we have 12 dead.”

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek noted from his glance into the file. “Anthrax?”

“Anthrax doesn't kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Dr Kimura added.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets— airports, malls, trains?” Emily looked to Hotch.

“There's a media blackout.”

“We aren’t telling the public?”

“We'd have a mass exodus,” Derek explained.

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi continued.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Hotch finished.

“Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it, they might attack again,” Emily contradicted. “Doesn't the public have the right to know that?”

“If there is another attack, there's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet. Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

“What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odorless and invisible.”

“A sophisticated strain,” Rossi noted. “Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek pointed out.

“It's not the lesions I'm worried about,” Dr Kimura commented. “It's the lungs. We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed hospital,” JJ added. “Our offices will become a small command centre and there are already military scientists out there from Fort Detrick.”

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital. Interview the victims. Bishop’s been there for about half an hour so you should be halfway done. Morgan and Prentiss, there's a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. Dave and I will keep working on the profile from here. There's Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don't know if it's effective against this strain, but it's something,” the doctor provided. Spencer popped his in and downed it with a glass of water before leaving with Dr Kimura.

Piper sat with the next patient. This was the fifth one she’d talked to in the last 20 minutes. They all seemed so normal. One was a mother with a 6-year-old son, the first she watched die while gripping her hand. Her eyes were drained of all life as she kept comforting young men, women and children. The young woman in front of her was beautiful, but drained. Her lips were slowly paling, and her eyes became sunken. Piper rubbed the young woman’s hand as she attempted to recall things until the aphasia set in. That was the worst part. Seeing a beautiful life with so much potential reduced to a babbling mess. Piper had tapped out of resolve. But she had one more patient left to talk to. She clapped a doctor on the shoulder, thanking her for her work before trudging over to the next room. As she walked in, she found Spencer gently talking to Abby. Piper silently entered, shaking hands with Dr Kimura again. “Yesterday afternoon, you rode your bicycle to the park,” Spencer spoke softly. “How did the sun feel on your skin, the breeze through your hair? Can you describe for me what you heard and the people that you saw?”

“It was warm, windy. There were guys...football. Kids... I see free... Me seen fee me.” Abby opened her eyes wide with panic. “Free knee.” Piper’s heart broke and she stepped forward.

“Hey, Abby. I need you to rest okay. We’re gonna take care of you.” She saw a tear roll of Abby’s cheek and Piper released her. The three doctors stepped outside and Piper sniffled.

“What's causing her aphasia?” Spencer asked the doctor.

“The poison is infecting the parietal lobe, impairing her speech. Some of the other patients displayed the same symptoms shortly before they died.”  Piper swallowed the lump in her throat.

“None of the drug combinations are working?”

“The only thing that's helping them right now is the morphine.” Piper ran a hand through her hair.

“All of them are absolutely normal.” Piper’s voice wavered. “Um… there was a mother who spent the day with her… um… her son and a few kids playing football. Abby was uh… cycling with a friend.” Piper took in a deep breath and Spencer excused them for a minute.

“Hey, are you okay?” His golden eyes searched for her watery ones, wishing he could wipe them away.

“Sorry, I uh… I can do this.”

“Pipes, how many?”

“Abby was gonna be my sixth. The uh… the mother died in…” Piper’s voice cracked, and Spencer desperately wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. “Don’t worry about me. Do your science-y thing. I’m useless at that anyway,” she scoffed and walked away over to Kimura who just walked out of another ward.

“38-year-old history teacher. Leaves behind two kids.”

“That’s 17 out of 25,” Spencer noted.

“This strain is duplicating every 30 to 45 minutes. It's poisoning the lungs, causing massive haemorrhaging and organ failure.”

“Extreme bacterial amplification,” Spencer thought aloud. “Whoever created this had to at some point go to the trouble of testing it.”

“You’re right.” Piper nodded. “Scientists always start out with small trial runs. I knew a guy; he was experimenting with olfactory nerves and behaviour. Started with rodents, then advanced to larger mammals like monkeys, and then at some point, they do a very small trial run with people, two maybe three people at most.”

“Exactly. There's no way this was his first human test run,” Spencer continued but Dr Kimura shook her head.

“We would have heard about a previous anthrax attack.”

“Not if it presented itself as something else,” Piper noted, a little life entering her eyes as the doctor nodded and left. Once she left, Piper grabbed the history teacher’s medical chart before calling Garcia to put his name aside for her, as well as his family.

“Pipes, there’s a media blackout.”

“So, I’ll talk to them when the case is over. But they deserve to know.” Spencer noticed the subtle confidence in Piper. When the case is over. Not if. When. A few minutes passed and Dr Kimura came back.

“2 days ago, 2 people in 2 separate Baltimore ERs and one person in a Philadelphia ER slipped into comas and died suddenly. Doctors didn't test for anthrax because the illnesses presented themselves as meningitis, but I think it can be caused by anthrax.”

“Did they show symptoms that we're seeing now— the lesions?” Piper asked her.

“They wouldn't have if the bodily functions expired as quickly as they did.”

“How quickly?”

“All dead within 3 hours of being admitted.” Her heart went still.

“But the first patient died yesterday at 10 hours.”

“Here's the thing—” Spencer explained to Piper. “If they inhaled a higher concentration of the strain, it would cause a quicker death. Organ failure without exterior physical symptoms.”

“What are their names?”

“Gale Mercer, 31, Martha Finestein, 48, Albert Franks, 52.” The doctor’s tone was quiet but clear as Piper dialled Penelope.

“So, what next?” Spencer looked to Piper.

“We should see if they visited the same place on May 8th. Garcia’ll know what to do.” She relayed the names to Garcia, slightly strengthened by having something to do.

“Gale Mercer made a credit card purchase at the Book Front, owned by Albert Franks.” Piper attempted to breathe evenly as her thought spiralled, overwhelming her with a mixture of moral obligation and guilt. Her nerves wouldn’t settle until Spencer brushed against her.

“Hotch is sending General Whitworth to secure the store. Morgan and Prentiss are going to check it out.” She managed to nod. “He wants us back at the base.” Piper’s eyes widened, obstinacy seeping into her voice.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Pipes—" She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before continuing.

“I can’t sit at base and do nothing. You can go back, but I am staying here even if all I can do is provide moral support for them. I have to make sure they’re going to be okay.” He watched her collect herself before charging towards the next ward. Spencer exhaled as he dialled Hotch. About a half hour later, Piper plopped down next to Spencer in the waiting room.

“It feels like the plagues of Egypt,” she sighed. “10 scourges created by god.”

“Plague 6 was unhealable boils believed by biblical scholars to be caused by anthrax.” She scoffed.

“Never missed Sunday school, did you?”

“Actually, never been before. How is she doing?”

“She's a fighter. Young, strong. Brave too. But she's started to bleed into her lungs. One of 4 left.”

“We're running into another problem. When the next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about cause of death?” Piper’s mouth drew into a line.

“That’s a moral equation I do not want to solve. Did you call Hotch?”

“Yeah. He’s calling his superiors.” Piper closed her eyes, her head leaned on the armchair. “What did you hear from the bookstore?”

“They ran names of former employees, customers with grievances. No one with the science background we're looking for. Garcia's still digging.” Piper nodded; her eyes still closed. “They’re about to deliver the profile. We need to go.” Breathing in deeply, she pushed herself off the armchair, rubbing her bike keys therapeutically.

At the base, she barely listened to the profile. “Because the locations hit are not symbolically significant, we believe that these attacks are personal. Understanding the significance of these locations will be the key to identifying him.”

“This personal element strongly indicates a home-grown terrorist,” Emily noted, easily settling into her speciality in terrorism. “Like the Amerithrax case, we believe this is someone from the science or defence community.”

“That's why you're here. We think you may know him,” Hotch said. “He may be one of us.”

“These home-grown terrorists are myopic zealots,” Piper spat out. “Ideologues that believe that their work is of the greatest importance.”

“He may have preached about the threat of an attack on America,” Spencer continued. “His co-workers would describe him as histrionic, paranoid, secretive.”

“With all due respect,” a man in an army uniform said, raising his hand. “That's a little vague. What are we supposed to do with something that generic?”

“Sir, we're not finished yet,” Derek explained. “He may have logged excess hours at work in the past weeks preparing for the attack. We believe he's taken the full dosage of anthrax vaccines over the recommended 18-month schedule and had yearly boosters.” Derek glanced at Rossi next to him.

“He's written about the threats of anthrax attacks, published papers. Yet he feels no one is listening. And that angers him.”

“Now, he may have recently experienced some sort of professional humiliation,” Derek continued. “Like be demoted or fired. Now, that would have been his trigger, the moment he decided to go rogue. And he may have betrayed his loved ones to his cause.”

“He may be recently separated or divorced,” Hotch added. “This is somebody who knows every detail of the 2001 anthrax attack and has talked about what that suspect did right or wrong. He's watching the news very closely to see how the country reacts. Please share this with your departments. Thank you.” Piper remained at her desk, staring at nothing while the rest of the team followed JJ into a conference room. She moved into her seat, starting to look up the victims.

Abby Hudson, 17, sophomore at Kellyville High School, AP Calculus. Eleanor Martinez, 34, married to Hector Martinez, building inspector, 6-year-old son. Daniel Moore, 38, history teacher, de facto relationship with Nathan Adams. Piper choked back a sob, blinking back tears as she stared at the ceiling until she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Pipes, is everything—” The dam broke before Emily could finish the question. “Hey, it’s okay.” Soothingly, Emily stroked her hair as Piper cried into her shoulder. They caught more than a few glanced. “What are you looking at? Get back to work before I chuck a shoe at you.” Emily scoffed before pulling Piper out of her seat and moving her into Garcia’s lair. She cursed as her cell buzzed. “Hey, Pen, handle her for a sec. I’ll cover for her with Hotch.” Garcia nodded and pulled a sniffling Piper into her comfiest chair.

Her voice was hollow as she spoke. “I promised them…”

“What, hon?”

“That they’d be okay.” Tears flowed freely down her cheek. “I promised I’d take care of them and they’re… they’re gone.” Piper’s eyes were bloodshot. “How do I do this?’ Penelope rubbed her hand.

“You keep moving. You work your smart butt off and once this case is done…” Piper swallowed uneasily and got up a little shakily. “Hey, not yet. Right now, you’re going to finish a cup of tea and then get to work.” Penelope watched her shoot a trembling smile and went to the office kitchen. She swirled a teaspoon through the caramel liquid when Reid popped up beside her.

“We have a possible suspect. You in?” Piper twisted her mouth at her cup of tea before pouring it into a takeaway cup.

“Let’s go.” Spencer filled her in on the ride. The suspect was Dr Lawrence Nichols who had attended a classified hearing with the Subcommittee on Defence and Homeland Security in January ’02. He used to work at the institute but was forced out that same year.

“Committee said he was becoming unstable, fanatical which was why they removed him from Fort Detrick and railroaded from other prominent positions.”

“He fits the profile. Felt like people weren't listening, had access to the spores, lost a prominent job, got divorced.”

“Morgan and Prentiss are hitting the hospital.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Figured he might have kept case files at home for safekeeping.”

“Smart,” Piper muttered. Spencer couldn’t tell if she was talking about him or Nichols, but his chest still swelled. As they pulled up to the house, Piper answered her cell. “All right, thanks Derek. I’m not your—” The line cut off. “Angel,” she finished irritably.

“Still using the nickname?”

“Yeah. Maybe I should give him a really irritating one.” Piper smiled softly. “So, the guy just had people over for a charity event last month.”

“We should look around anyway.” Piper nodded, making to follow when her cell buzzed again.

“What’s up Em? You’re sure it’s clean? ‘Kay, I’ll tell Reid. Be safe.” Piper hung up the cell, turning to Reid, but he’d already left. “Spence!” She walked past the rose bushes to look for him. How hard could it be to find a 6-foot-tall doctor? She turned the corner, her eye catching the door, about to enter when Spencer slammed the glass door shut, latching the door shut. “Spence, wha— what are you doing?”

“Piper get back. Get out of here, now.”

“What are you talking—” Piper trailed off as her eyes fell on the broken vial on the floor. “Is that…” She didn’t want to say it. “No…” A pit had formed in the bottom of her stomach. She wanted to curl up into a ball and pretend none of this was happening. She wanted to scream and rip her hair out and cry all at the same time but instead she stood there, frozen, watching the most precious person to her behind a glass door with a killer disease. Gingerly, she flipped her cell open, telling Hotch everything. Within minutes, Hotch arrived with Dr Kimura and a hazmat team in tow and Piper tore herself away from Spencer to meet him.

“Any update?”

“There's white powder in the room and the air was blasting.” Piper’s voice was hollow. “Nichols is dead. Blunt force trauma to his head. Reid thinks he's been dead 2 or 3 days.”

“Clean him up and get him in the ambulance fast,” Hotch ordered.

“Sir, wait. Reid has to stay inside.”

“Piper, what are you—”

“I know. I want him out of there too but… he’s our best chance at finding the cure. He's already infected and I think he has a better chance of survival if he stays inside.”

“But Pi—”

“Look, it’s not going to do anyone any good to take him to a hospital.” Piper’s tone reached a higher octave. “I won’t let Spencer become another…” Piper stopped, taking a deep breath. “His best chance is inside.” Grudgingly, he nodded, and Piper trudged back to the door, watching a Decon team enter the house to secure the area. Piper pulled out her cell, dialling his number by memory. “Hey, Spence.”

Spencer heard her voice betray her pretence of confidence. “So, I…uh…managed to convince Hotch. Dr Kimura’s coming in to help you out. And uh… you’re gonna be fine.” She scuffled the grass under her foot as she spoke. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course. I’ve got you.”

“I’m not gonna be much help, Spence. I’m out here, remember?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally and more importantly mentally, you’re right beside me.” He heard her take a deep breath.

“Okay, walk through the scene. Tell me what you see.”

“I see cages filled with dead animals. I see signs of a struggle, probably before Dr. Nichols was murdered. Equipment's missing. There's a large desk. Clutter all over the surface. But in the corner, There's a smaller desk. It's organized, functional.”

“So, two different workspaces. Maybe he had someone working with him?”

“Maybe. Two sets of handwriting. I'm looking at instructions on how to boil lab-grade broth, sterilize lab equipment, and transfer spores.”

“Nichols would know all that.”

“He has a partner, maybe even a protege.”

“You read his file. You know anyone special?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. I’ll call Hotch. Be…” He heard Piper trail. “Hang in there.” The line cut and Spencer was too smart to not understand that he could die today. Piper was right outside, he could call her but his mom, she was alone in Las Vegas. He rapidly dialled Penelope’s direct line.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Gee, wow, no, uh... No witty Garcia greeting for me?” He heard her sigh on the other end.

“I can't be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

“Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I, uh... I know i can't call my mom without, uh—” He cleared his throat. “Without alerting everyone at her hospital.”

“What do you need?”

“I, uh... I need you to record a message for her in case anything happens to me.”

“Oh, nothing's going to happen to you. You're gonna...brilliantly find out who did this and we're gonna treat this strain.” Spencer laughed, a little too bitterly for his taste.

“I hope you're right, but if you're not, I just— I really want to make sure that she hears my voice.”

“Ok. Just, uh, give me a second. Are you ready?”

“Ready. Hi, Mom. This is Spencer. I just, um...” He sighed, a little aware of Dr Kimura entering the house. “I just...really want you to know that I love you and—” His voice hitched, and he cleared his throat. “I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.” On the other side, Penelope’s heart broke at her best friend’s demise. But before she could comfort him, the line went dead.

“Doctor. How are--how are the patients doing?”

“Let's worry about you.”

“I actually— I feel fine.”

“Ok, if you feel any pain, I could give you something.”

“No, I— I’d rather not take any pain medication.” Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, desperate to get back to work.

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable, and I don't want to take any narcotics.”

“Okay. Tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere. Dr. Nichols is a former military scientist, which means he's most likely secretive and most likely a little paranoid. He would have protected the cure and probably would have hidden it from his partners. So, look for something innocuous, something you would not suspect.”

“All right.” His cell buzzed again, a small smile gracing his face. Piper Bishop. “Hey.”

“Hey Doc. How are you feeling?” Piper tried her best to inject cheer in her voice.

“Fine. Actually, I feel fine.” He coughed, harder than intended and Piper heard.

“Spence?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Just a little—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me Dr Spencer Walter Reid! I am not in the mood.”

“I've seen better days.” He was met with silence weighing.

“Emily called me. They don't think the partner was a co-worker. Can you tell us anything else about him?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Listen to me, Spence. How long have I known you?”

“3 years.”

“In those 3 years, I have never seen you question yourself. Spencer, you are the most brilliant, compassionate and perceptive person I have ever met. Don’t start questioning yourself now.”

“Pipes—”

“Don’t Pipes me. Listen. You told me there were two different workspaces, two sets of handwriting. Sets of instructions on how to boil lab-grade broth, sterilize lab equipment, and transfer spores. Why would he write that stuff down?”

“Because he wrote it for someone else. Okay, I see a framed photograph of Dr. Nichols teaching. I see a... I see a binder with syllabi. Course assignments going all the way back to the ‘70s.”

“Good. What else?”

“I saw something earlier. I didn't— I didn't make a connection to it or to the partner, but he has a study on anthrax. He has an annotated bibliography, table of contents. It's formatted like a thesis and has writing in the margins in red ink, like the way a teacher grades a paper. Now, Nichols wouldn't have let just anyone in here, but he may have opened his lab for educational purposes, as a teacher.”

“That’s my genius. I’ll get Garcia on the line. We’re gonna get you out of there.” As Piper switched to Garcia, Reid kept coughing while he read through the paper. “Hey, Spence. Garcia didn’t get anything.”

“Pipes listen to this. ‘This country is woefully unprepared. Every household should have a 2-month supply of Cipro. Hospitals are in need of bio-safety level 4 Decon wings.’ Verbatim to what we heard from Nichols.”

��So, the partner's adopted Nichols' views as his own.”

“There’s more. The chapters are on setting up triage and mobile emergency rooms. I don't think this paper was written by a science student. It's about city preparedness and response.”

“Gimme a sec.” She told Garcia to change the parameters to social studies students— specifically those in public policy and urban planning. “Spence, you did it.” He heard relief flood into her voice. “Penelope got a name. Now get the hell out of there.”

Spencer flipped his cell shut and slipped it in his pocket as Dr Kimura approached. “Dr. Reid. You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn't suspect. What about Nichols' inhaler?” Spencer nodded; a weight lifted from his shoulders. He was herded away to be hosed down and Piper updated him face to face.

“Go help Hotch.”

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him.”

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Spence, I'm gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I'm about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Red seeped into Piper’s face as she stammered.

“I’ll, uh… I think I’ll wait outside.” She shot him a thumbs up awkwardly and left the tent. Spencer almost laughed except Kimura held up his arm. Any remaining good spirit drained from his face as he glanced at the cut on his wrist.

“The rose bush,” he realised.

^-^

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Dr Kimura kept an eye on his vitals on the screen. Spencer’s shirt was unbuttoned, and he had tubes running from his nose while Piper gripped his hand, battling the onslaught of tears.

“My throat's a little dry. But other than that, I feel... Flee... Feel fin. I feel--i fleel fin. i—”

“Relax, Spencer,” Piper interjected, terrified as her voice quivered. “Just focus on me, okay.” She wanted to sob at the sight of him so pale. It was her worst nightmare, ten times worse. This wasn’t a bullet or a stab wound. This was a disease. They’d taken a gamble with the inhaler and at this moment, she didn’t care about the unsub, about the potential deaths, just the man lying on a stretcher in front of her. The only thing keeping her together was being strong for him, but even that failed as his amber eyes flickered closed and her browns flooded with tears. “Faster,” she screamed at the driver and kept rubbing his hand. She held his hand all the way to the ER room, letting him leave as she watched him disappear behind the double doors. She collapsed onto the wall next to her, sliding down as she sobbed right there, apathetic to the staring staff. Eventually her tears dried up and she paced in the waiting room, not giving a damn about how she looked. Finally, Dr Kimura came out, pulling off her surgical gloves, giving her good news and a room number. She thanked her profusely before sprinting to waiting room 2110, halting at Spencer in a white bedsheet, eye still closed. Silently, she padded to the armchair, tucking her legs inside and watching over him until she fell asleep. Spencer’s eyes fluttered awake and he watched Piper snoring gently, her wrist twisted uncomfortably.

“Careful, your wrist isn’t gonna like that.” Piper’s head slipped off and she blinked sleepily at Spencer.

“You’re awake.” Spencer tried to nod but it hurt him to move. “Careful.”

“And there’s jello. Must be my lucky day.” Piper rubbed her face.

“Yeah.” Piper scoffed at the idea of him being lucky. “Kimura brought it in. Figured this day couldn’t get worse I guess.”

“Did they find him?” Piper hummed, unravelling her legs and stretching them out. Like a cat, he noted.

“Picked the park because he was rejected by a girl. Picked the bookstore because that’s where he used to work in college. They caught him at the train lines. Or so I heard.” Piper smiled softly at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She sat, watching him devour the jello. Like a kid on his birthday, she noted, smilingly.

“That’s the first real smile I’ve seen all day,” he voiced. Piper reddened slightly as she got up.

“You want some coffee. I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

“Piper wait…” Spencer straightened up. “I need… I need to tell you something.” Piper furrowed her brows, but she pulled her chair closer to Spencer.

“What’s up?”

“When I was in there… I realised something.” He licked his lips. “That if I died today, I’d miss everything.” Piper smiled. “Not the cases. I’d miss you. Your birthdays, your smiles, your bets and your squabbles with Derek.” He watched the smile fade and felt his grow. Piper’s stomach dropped. No, he wasn’t… “I’m not afraid of death, never have been.”

“You’re scared of the dark,” she murmured, remembering an old conversation with Derek and Spencer. He snorted gently.

“I’m scared of the dark, Piper, but I’m terrified of losing you.” Piper’s eyes grew weary.

“Spence, please—”

“I’m tired of hiding it. Dr Piper Aubrey Bishop, I’m in love with you.” Her shoulders sagged and before she could reply, Derek and Dr Kimura walked in.

“You’re real lucky kid. Piper must be some kind of good luck charm.” As though Piper wasn’t uncomfortable already, she fidgeted in her seat while Spencer chuckled.

“Yeah, guess she is.”

“Coffee?” she asked abruptly, not waiting for a response. She practically ran out and Spencer felt shattered.

While Derek helped Spencer to his apartment, he noted that Piper never did come back with the coffee. Derek noticed Spencer’s withdrawn attitude, the lack of cheer on his face, but filed it away as fatigue. Spencer waved Derek goodbye, the latter promising to check up on him later. He sunk into his couch, pulling out his cell as he contemplated dialling her. He re-read her name over and over, as though he needed to memorise it. But he didn’t have to. Her name was etched into his skull, unable to forget it if he tried to. Nor the smell of her hair every Monday morning nor the smile she gave him when he brought her tea nor her laugh at his jokes, even the unfunny ones. He’d never felt as alone as he did now. He felt loneliness in his blood, scratched along his bones repeatedly. He sunk further with every memory that flashed in his head, both good and bad. He remembered how sunken she’d looked after her gunshot wound, how angry she’d been with the sham psychologists, how giddy she’d acted on her birthday, how bloodshot her eyes were after her breakup with Drew, how happy she’d been to be back…home. He’d never stop loving her, he realised as he remembered an old conversation during a group lunch while it started raining heavily outside. Between mouthfuls of stir fry chicken, she’d told him how you never really stop loving someone, you just start loving someone else more. But he couldn’t imagine doing that. Not to her. But as though a pebble had been thrown through the perfectly distilled reflection, the doorbell rang, and the memory faded. Spencer stumbled over to the door, still weak from the disease. He opened the door to see Piper dripping onto the carpet outside his apartment. Her hair was soaked, clung to her face like she clung to her motorcycle helmet. She was breathing hard as though she’d run up the flights of stairs. “The elevator works.”

“It was too slow,” she rasped. Spencer motioned for her to come in, smiling softly at how she left her boots outside, neatly next to the door.

“You know, I think Ms Cumberland down the hall is a kleptomaniac. She might steal those.” Piper chuckled as she settled her helmet and a paper package on the kitchen. “Let me grab you a towel.”

“No, Sp— Reid.” She corrected herself, the transition evident of the giant wall she’d constructed in little under an hour. “You should rest, I know where it is.” She slipped into the bathroom and came back out, done rubbing the water out of her hair. “I uh… I won’t stay long. Um… I didn’t like how we left things. How I left things.” Piper sniffled. She’d been crying, Spencer noticed. Her puffy eyes, the red tinge on her nose.

“Don’t be. Consider it a moment of weakness. So, what can I do for you Bishop?” He saw the words sting her, but the emotion was only a brief flash.

“Well, I never gave you my diagnosis,” she said humourlessly. “Ask me.”

“What’s my diagnosis, Doc?” He spat the question out bitterly.

“You’ve got a few uncurable diseases. They’ve never even heard of one person having all of them. The first,” she stepped a few paces closer, “is called I-can’t-wait-long-enough-for-my-partner-to-get-off-the-phone-before-I-enter-an-unsub’s-house-itis. The second is I-just-have-to-wait-until-I’m-on-my-deathbed-to-confess-my-love-itis.”

“Is there a third one?”

“Yeah. But the last one’s a self-diagnosis. I’ve got a case of holding-in-my-feelings-for-a-co-worker-so-long-that-i-get-terrified-when-he-finally-confesses-itis. Spencer,” she whispered, less than a few paces away now. “I was terrified. So, I did what I do best. I froze you out and I drove. You remember that case in Texas? That kid who was bullied and killed his girlfriend’s dad, the abuser?” He nodded thickly, unsure of where she was going. “That was the first time I drove you somewhere on a bike.”

“I was about to analyze your vehicular choices— but you stopped me.”

“That’s why. Because something happens and it terrifies me, so I drive, and I don’t look back. Ever. And I did it today.” Piper was two steps away. “You, in that house, with that disease, I could’ve run. But I didn’t. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I stayed.”

“Because you’re kind—”

“No, don’t give me that. I’m not kind,” she spat. “I’m selfish. I pretend that helping others gives me joy but in reality, I run from anything that could ever give me any kind of real happiness. Except,” Piper was a step away. “in this situation, it’s a case of anyone. I ran because I couldn’t handle my feelings for you, Spence.” Her voice was just a whisper. “I ran because I’m terrified of us hurting each other. But I can’t. Not because the situation itself becomes a paradox. Because you’re worth more than any kind of pain. So, Dr Spencer Walter Reid, I’m in love with you too. That’s my diagnosis.” She was only inches away and Spencer could smell the earthy scent of her hair as he grasped the side of head and met her lips. His hands tangled in her soft dark hair as her lips moved against his. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she reached on her tiptoes. The two doctors broke the kiss, breathless as their foreheads touched, her eyes fluttering open and gazing softly into his dark brown eyes. She couldn’t help beaming before she kissed him swiftly on the nose and walking over to the kitchen. “Also, Penelope said you like chicken noodle soup?”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer knew he was grinning like an idiot. But he didn’t care. The microwave beeped and the rich scent of chicken and broth seeped through the small apartment and he grinned at Piper who was still smiling as she handed him a bowl.

“Also, your uh…Mrs Cumberland won’t steal my boots.” Piper tucked her feet into the couch next to Spencer. “Not when you gifted her those flowers so lovingly.”

“You got me flowers?” Piper laughed at Spencer’s confuddled smile and she wiped away a small trace of soup with a thumb.

“Technically, you got her flowers which is deeply concerning considering you confessed your love to me less than 4 hours ago.” Spencer gave her a deep chuckle and she lay her head in the crook of his shoulder as she switched the tv onto reruns of Doctor Who while the rain pounded outside.

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 3, deadly life (Part 1)

Note of the author: There are way more weapons near [redacted]’s body than what I showed in the picture last chapter.

And also, I will admit it makes me laugh to see all of you cry for [redacted]’s death after seeing all the “I hope they survive!! :DD” comments.

Chapter 3: What is beyond humans’ control - Deadly life

...

“Ding dong, dong ding!”

“A-BODY-HAS-BEEN-DISCOVERED.”

“EVERYONE, PLEASE-GATHER-AT-THE-SHRINE-OF-JUDGEMENT.”

...

No.

No. No. No.

Nonononononononono-

Shuichi couldn’t even hear the rest of the announcement over the white noise in his head.

The faint smell of blood, the horrifying vision before him... He felt nauseous, bile starting to climb up his throat.

He ran out and puked behind one of the rocks in front of the shrine.

Witnessing the executions was already a lot, but this...

Himiko’s body was filled with various cuts and some of her articulations were bent in ways that shouldn’t even be possible. And if the axe planted in her torso wasn’t enough, a pattern resembling angel wings was made around her with her own blood.

Someone in their own group hadn’t just kill her, they had completely distorted her body to make a grotesque work of ‘art’.

But why?

What did Himiko even do to deserve this? She was kind to everyone, especially Kokichi. Why would anyone even want to harm her?

This was unfair.

He snapped back to reality when he heard footsteps in the distance.

Kokichi was running incredibly fast towards the door, rushing in without Shuichi even being able to try and stop him. He was clearly panicking, like he already had an idea about what happened.

Miu and Rantaro were trying to keep up, and went to Shuichi’s side.

“What happened?? Who died???” Miu asked, panicked.

Rantaro helped him getting up, taking a tissue out of his pocket and giving it to him. “Take slow, deep breaths.”

Shuichi cleaned his mouth, trying to calm down, but still shaking. “I-It’s... Himiko sh-she...”

He trailed off, not even able to describe what was in there.

Miu’s eyes widened. She rushed into the shrine.

“You think you can handle it?” Rantaro calmly asked.

Shuichi nodded, still feeling uneasy. But he had to.

The two entered the shrine.

Kokichi wasn’t moving at all. His eyes were fixated on Himiko’s mangled corpse. it was like a thousand questions ran through his head, just like Shuichi a few minutes ago.

Kirumi and Keebo were on the side. Even the ultimate mercenary was horrified by the scene. Her eyes were examining every little detail of the body.

The scissors.

The knives.

The hammers.

The wooden stakes.

The darts.

The chisels.

The scalpels.

The axe.

It was like the killer went out of their way to take every single item that could be used as a weapon that existed in the academy and used it on her.

Kokichi hesitantly took a step forward.

“Himi...ko...?”

He went to her side, kneeling beside her, approaching his gloved hand to her bloodstained cheek.

"... Why...?”

The others slowly came rushing in as well, discovering the harsh truth.

“Who- Why...?” Kaito muttered.

“Even if someone really did kill... What was the point of creating this entire scene?” Tsumugi asked.

“Clearly none of us would kill that horribly right? Only Monokuma creates such gruesome deaths!” Angie extended her arms, as if it would strengthen her argument.

“Rise and shine, ursine!” The three bears appeared before them.

Monophanie puked, as usual, when she saw the dead body.

“Monodam! You said everyone would get along together!” Monotaro exclaimed.

“DON’T-WORRY... OVERCOMING-THIS-WILL-BRING-EVERYONE-CLOSER-TOGETHER.” the green bear replied.

“Well it obviously doesn’t!!”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Rantaro.

He approached the bear without hesitation and aggressively grabbed it.

“What are you-” Ryoma tried to resonate with him, but it was useless.

“I’m sick of your so called ‘get along’. You’re saying murdering each other will bring us closer.” His glare was intense. If his speech during the second trial was intimidating, this was nothing compared to now.

He dragged the bear next to Himiko’s body, immobilizing him to make sure he stared at her.

“This. Is what you call ‘getting along’. I know more than anyone else that dangerous situations bring people together. But this? This is madness. And nothing comes out of it other than even more madness.”

“... VIOLENCE-AGAINST-THE-HEADMASTERS-IS-PROHIBITED. CEASE-THIS-ATTITUDE-IMMEDIATELY.”

There was a moment of silence, of wondering what the medic would even do.

“... Fine.” he said, dropping Monodam. “But remember that I will do my best to take you down, no matter the cost.”

“...”

The bear stayed silent.

“... Anyway, here’s the Monokuma file for this case!” Monophanie exclaimed.

The three cubs left shortly after, backing off before the glares of the others.

Rantaro turned to the rest of them, a deadpan expression on his face. “I will stay here to do the autopsy. The rest of you go investigate, although I would like two people to stay here with me, if it’s not too much to ask.”

“Count on me, boss.” Ryoma raised a hand. “I’m not that disturbed by corpses, so I would rather stay here than let more easily disturbed people do the job.”

“I will stay here as well.” Kiyo volunteered.

“Good.” Rantaro kneeled before the body. “Try to locate where all the weapons come from. It looks like they came from different places.”

Shuichi nodded. It wasn’t like he was going to be of great help for Rantaro here.

Everyone aside from Rantaro, Kiyo and Ryoma left.

Just as he stepped outside the shrine, Shuichi took out his monopad to check the file.

Monokuma file #3

The victim is Himiko Yumeno, the ultimate astronomer.

The body was discovered in the shrine of judgement.

The estimated time of death is 2:00 AM.

The victim died of blood loss.

Multiple cuts were noted on the victim’s body.

The victim also suffered from bone fracturation of the skull, the ribs, the wrists and the ankles.

The victim also suffered from broken joints on the ankle and the fingers.

Obtained truth bullet! Monokuma file #3

“Multiple injuries my ass. There wasn’t a single spot on her that was clean!” Kaito exclaimed.

Shuichi glanced at Kokichi. His eyes were empty, looking at the ground.

“... I’ll investigate on my side.” he left the others without saying another word.

Miu stepped forward to try to stop him, but Kirumi put a hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps he needs some time alone right now.”

“Aren’t you the one who followed Maki right after Kaede’s death?” Tsumugi raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, and that’s exactly why I’m suggesting we don’t.” she replied.

Shuichi himself had trouble accepting the reality. Someone among them went out of their way to completely destroy Himiko, leaving her no chance to survive, not even letting her keep a certain dignity after death.

It was understandable that Kokichi was in shock.

Keebo went back to the subject at hand. “The weapons looked like they were from different labs, so we’ll have to split up to see what’s missing.”

Right after declaring this, Kiyo slightly opened the door. “May I have your attention, please?”

The all turned to him. “We discovered a large amount of destroyed small bottles, near the flowerpots. Try to investigate labs containing poison as well.”

Obtained truth bullet! Destroyed bottles

They all walked towards the main building.

Tsumugi stopped in her tracks. “May I ask... Why were Ryoma and I sleeping in the rooms on the fourth floor?”

Kaito turned to her, confused. “Wait, you don’t know?? More importantly, Tsumugi, you feeling okay? Didn’t you have the disease?”

That was actually a good point. He was so caught up by Himiko’s death that he forgot about Ryoma and Tsumugi acting like their usual selves.

“The disease...?” she blinked.

Shuichi tried to explain the situation. “The motive was a ‘despair disease’ that made Ryoma and you act the opposite from your usual selves. And since it was contagious you two and Kokichi were placed in the three rooms on the fourth floor.”

"Don’t you remember anything?” Angie asked, a finger on her cheek.

She shook her head. “No, I really don’t. I went to sleep in my room... I’m guessing days ago and next thing I knew, I woke up in one of the rooms on the fourth floor from the body discovery announcement.”

Obtained truth bullet! Despair disease symptoms 

“Say, how exactly did I act?” she asked.

“You were basically amnesiac. You asked us who we were, where we were, that was really weird.” Miu explained.

The prodigy sighed. “It could have been worse, I suppose.”

That was weird, but this really reinforced Rantaro’s theory that the cubs were lying about the origin of the disease. But what even was used to create such symptoms?

Perhaps right now was not the time to think about that.

...

As they kept walking, Shuichi noticed Miu looked troubled.

“Is something wrong? Aside from... What just happened...?” he asked.

“... You can agree with me that Rantaro was sleeping on a chair on the fourth floor yesterday morning, right?”

He hummed. “I mean, he did explain to me that he did so in case something happened to the ill ones...”

“I found him sleeping in his lab this morning.”

Shuichi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said! I went to give him and the others breakfast on the fourth floor and he wasn’t there, so I checked his lab and he was sleeping on another chair. Right after I saw him, the body discovery announcement played, so I was afraid he was the one to... You know...” she trailed off.

Obtained truth bullet! Miu’s account

“That’s... Strange...” Shuichi muttered.

When they reached the building, they split up to cover more ground, most of them going to the different labs by two.

Shuichi and Kaito went to Maki’s lab.

It was a mess, to say the least.

Thread reels, fabric scattered everywhere... It was like someone went on a rampage.

“Sheesh, what a mess... Maki didn’t leave her lab like this, right?” Kaito asked.

“She said she was a little messy, but the killer was definitely looking for something in here.”

“Well duh...”

After proper inspection, they realized all the scissors were gone, whether they were Japanese or western scissors.

Obtained truth bullet! Maki’s lab

Shuichi looked over a roll of fabric on the ground. The cut was very clean, but it definitely looked like someone touched it at some point.

Obtained truth bullet! Cut fabric

The two left the lab.

They went to the fourth floor. Perhaps there were important things there.

They checked the rooms to see if something was different. However they all looked pretty normal.

When getting to Angie’s lab, both Tsumugi and Angie were there.

“Did you find something?” Shuichi asked.

Tsumugi pointed at the shelves. “A great majority of the tools are missing. Only the brushes are still there. However everything from the small tools to the bigger tools are missing.”

Angie pointed at the spot where the bigger tools were. “Even the saws and the axe! But that wouldn’t be the best choice of weapon, would it?” she tilted her head to the side.

Obtained truth bullet! Angie’s lab

The two left to check on the third floor. Perhaps Rantaro’s lab had clues.

When they entered, Rantaro himself was going through the shelves.

“Huh? Did you finish the autopsy?” Shuichi asked, confused.

The medic turned to the two. “Turns out some of the bottles are from my lab, and I wanted to check by myself what was missing.”

“And so? Did you get any clues?” Kaito approached the shelf Rantaro was searching through.

“Not a lot of products are missing actually. Mostly needles, soporifics and paralyzing substances. All the painkillers are still here.” he explained.

Obtained truth bullet! Rantaro’s lab

“Wait, how come there are paralyzing products in your lab? I thought you said there were no products that could be used to kill!” Kaito exclaimed.

He crossed his arms. “Well, same reason why there are painkillers in my lab. They’re often used during surgical operations actually. Although I doubt that was the objective of whoever stole them.”

“Wait, can those products be lethal?” Shuichi asked.

Rantaro stayed silent, probably choosing his words.

“... Yes. Most of these products are lethal when you take more than a gram. However I preferred not to mention the presence of lethal products when we discovered my lab. But I assure you they aren’t lethal when used properly.”

“I see...” Shuichi muttered.

Obtained truth bullet! Paralyzing products 

“I’m sorry I lied to you guys about this, but I preferred to keep the dangerous details to myself, I hope you understand why.” he explained.

Kaito scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah but... You still hide a lot from us, don’t you think?”

“And yet if you look back at the last trial, that’s because Kirumi, Ryoma and Keebo were silent about Kirumi’s talent that we were able to pinpoint the culprit.” he didn’t look at the biker in the eyes.

“That’s not the solution everyone likes, but keeping secrets is more useful than you would think.”

Although he tried to hide it, Kaito flinched. Was he hiding something?

The three stepped out of the lab. They went to Miu’s lab to see if she had found anything useful. However, she wasn’t there when they entered, so they figured that she was done with her research.

They decided to go to Kirumi’s lab to see if she had found anything.

However, when reaching the stairs of the second floor, they found Miu, who had been visibly running, panic written all over her face.

“Guys!! I need your help!” she yelled.

“W-What’s happening?” Shuichi asked, worried.

“In the entrance hall- Just follow me!” she exclaimed, running back to the place she mentioned.

The three guys ran after her.

When they reached the hallway, they understood why Miu was panicking so much.

...

...

... No. 

“Ding dong, dong ding!” 

...

.......... Not him.

......................... Another victim...?

“A body has been discovered!”

“Everyone, please gather in the entrance hall!”

There, laying on the ground...

... Was the dead- or rather, inactivate body of Keebo, the ultimate without a known talent.

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 4/?

May I? - 4/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Faith had spent the last forty-eight hours in her quarters. Her conversation with Data had put her at ease and gave her the chance to actually get rest. She slept some, ate a little, and avoided Dr. Crusher. The doctor had reached out for a follow-up but Faith didn't respond. Her headache had subsided to a dull throb and no other symptoms emerged, so she wasn't too worried about it.

She had just laid down for another nap when her door buzzed. It took her a moment to process that someone was actually there to see her. Pushing her crazy hair into a bun, she sat up and tried to make herself look presentable.

"Come in."

The door opened and Counselor Troi cautiously stepped in. She looked around until she spotted Faith in the bedroom. "Hi, Faith. I'm sorry, did I wake you? Is now a good time?"

There was a small feeling of disappointment within, which surprised Faith. It was almost as if she had expected it to be someone else.

"Oh, no I was just resting." She swung her legs over the side of the bed, suddenly acutely aware of how grungy she felt and probably looked. "Is there something I can do for you, Counselor?"

"Dr. Crusher said you may want to talk," Deanna said. "You haven't answered her messages so she asked me to stop by."

Damn it, Dr. Crusher! 

The woman was too kind and smart for her own good. Faith was more than a little annoyed. She had seen a counselor when she was a teenager and it had not gone well. But she had no quarrel with Deanna personally. In fact, she overheard nothing but good things about her. However, that did little to change her mind on the subject.

"Please, have a seat," Faith said, remembering her manners.

Deanna smiled and took a seat on the couch while Faith forced herself out of bed to join her. The Betazoid looked around and Faith knew she was taking note of the lack of personal belongings and decoration. Not to mention the clothes strewn across the floor and dishes left in various locations.

"I'm sorry about the mess. Had I known I was having company I would have tidied up a little."

Waving a dismissive hand, Deanna's smile remained. "No judgments from me. My own quarters have been in much worse shape on many occasions."

I seriously doubt that. She could not imagine the cheque and put-together counselor being messy in any capacity. 

"I assume you know why I'm here," Deanna said.

"And I assume you know how I feel about it."

Deanna chuckled in amusement. "Yes, Dr. Crusher mentioned you may not be so happy about my appearance. So why don't we talk about it?"

Faith sighed heavily, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I can't believe Dr. Crusher sent you to check up on me," she mumbled, more to herself than Deanna.

"She's worried about you. I am too."

"Only because it's your job."

Deanna smiled kindly. "That is not the only reason. I do this job because I care. But I don't want you to feel pressured. If you'd rather not talk, we don't have to. But I hope you consider."

Faith took a deep breath. "I'm not good at it."

"Talking?"

"Talking about myself. There's really nothing very interesting about me."

"Now I find that very hard to believe."

"Everyone says that. They're always proven wrong."

"I see. How so?"

Deanna's eyes softened and the concern in them was enough to make Faith look away. She hated people being concerned about her. There were already so many things that made her anxious, the thought that she caused someone distress or concern for her health only made her feel worse.

"I told Dr. Crusher I didn't want to see you," she said, avoiding Troi's question.

"I know. It's why I'm here," Deanna said. "Sometimes when we don't want to talk about our feelings is when we need to the most."

Faith remained silent. Deanna waited patiently, but when she didn't say anything, the counselor continued. "Would it help if I told you a little bit about myself first?"

"You can if you like."

"Alright then," Deanna said. "Let's see. I'm half Betazoid, half-human. I've been doing this job for quite a while. And I love chocolate. Your turn."

Faith snorted. "I feel like I'm the new kid in class again and the teacher is making me introduce myself."

"Did you move around a lot when you were a child?"

"Nice try."

Deanna grinned. "I had to at least make an attempt."

Faith considered the situation and how she felt about Deanna's presence. There was something comforting about her, yet Faith was not remotely ready to start sharing her life story. "I appreciate the effort. But...I'm just not ready. Not now. I-I don't think I can share..."

"Then we don't have to," Deanna stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "How about we get out of here and go for a walk instead? Get something to eat."

Faith looked down at her sweaty pajamas and back up at Deanna. "Er...I'm not exactly ready to be seen by human eyes." She paused. "Full-human eyes."

Deanna laughed. "Fine. You freshen up and we'll go to Ten Forward. Does that sound good?"

Faith hadn't been to Ten Forward yet. She knew it was where most people went to unwind and had avoided it due to her aversion to crowds. She also didn't like the thought of going by herself. The idea of her sitting alone at the bar was too sad, even for her. However, going with someone probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. 

"Okay, I think I can do that," she said, placing her feet on the floor. "Excuse me for a moment."

Deanna motioned for Faith to go ahead. "I'll wait."

After a hot shower and changing into fresh clothes, Faith came back into the living room to find Deanna had gathered the dishes for her and put them back in the replicator to be disposed.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Faith said, embarrassed. She removed her hair from the wet towel and began to hastily run a comb through it. Normally she didn't bother but she figured if she was going to be seen by people, she might as well make the effort.

"It was no trouble," Deanna insisted. "Every little bit helps. Speaking of…" She watched Faith wince as she caught a tangle. "Would you like some with your hair?"

"Oh. Um. Sure."

Faith sat while Deanna gently worked the knots out of her long brown hair. It was strange at first, yet oddly soothing. 

"You have beautiful hair," Deanna commented. "The natural waves are lovely. Mine is so curly it drives me crazy at times."

"Thanks." Faith frowned. "You're not exactly what I expected."

"Oh really? How so?"

"Well, I doubt most counselors offer to take you to dinner, clean your dishes, then help you with your hair."

Deanna laughed. "Don't think of me as your counselor then. Think of me as your friend. After all, you haven't agreed to talk with me yet so technically you're not a client."

Faith chuckled herself. "Playing the long con, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Deanna said in a far too innocent tone and sweet smile.

After Deanna worked out the tangles and helped Faith braid her hair, the two women set off. Faith had kept the lights dim in her quarters so the brightness of the corridor actually blinded her for a moment. 

When she winced, Deanna asked, "How's your head?"

"It's fine. I'm still a little sensitive to light but at least the headaches have subsided." 

They began to walk and Faith realized that if she hadn't been injured she'd be in Engineering right at that moment. It suddenly felt almost like she was skipping school. 

"It's strange not to be working," Faith said as they passed numerous people in their crisp Starfleet uniforms. She wore comfortable black pants and a thick sweater, which felt off compared to everyone else. "I feel like I should be doing something ."

"Resting is doing something," Deanna said, slipping her arm around Faith's shoulders. "Your body needs to recover and if you don't let it, you'll only hurt yourself more."

"Logically I know that. I can't help but feel useless though."

"I know. Just take it a day at a time. If today all you can do is take care of yourself, then it's a good day."

"Can you really sense what people are feeling?" Faith asked. "I know I joked about it before but I always wondered if it was true or just a rumor."

"Sometimes," Deanna answered. "It's not always clear, especially if the person doesn't know how they feel."

"That must be exhausting. Always feeling what other people do."

"Not really. I'm used to it, it's a part of me." She let go of Faith as they entered the lift. "Ten Forward, please." The lift began to move and the two women fell into silence.

Faith could feel Deanna studying her and she wondered what the Betazoid sensed. She almost asked but decided against it. Hearing her own emotions described verbally would make them all too real. At least keeping them locked up tight gave Faith some control. Or so she told herself.

When they reached Ten Forward, Faith was relieved to see it wasn't as busy as she thought it would be. Most people were separated into small groups, several even sat alone, reading from their PADDs or staring out at the vastness of space.

"Where would you like to sit?" Deanna asked.

Faith looked around and spotted a table tucked away in the corner and nodded toward it. "There is perfect."

They made their way over and Faith took the seat with her back to the wall, giving her a sense of security. 

"It's nice in here," she admitted.

Deanna smiled as she looked around. "I think so too. It's a wonderful place to come and socialize. Maybe even make new friends."

"Subtle," Faith commented with a quirked eyebrow.

Deanna smirked back. "Sometimes subtly is overrated."

A dark-skinned woman in robes of deep purple with a large circular hat glided up to the table, a kind smile gracing her flawless features. "Well, hello there, I don't believe we've met."

"Guinan, this is Ensign Faith Diaz," Deanna said, introducing her companion. "Faith, this is Guinan. Ten Forward is her domain."

"It's pretty great," Faith said, extending her hand, which Guinan accepted. "Pleased to meet you."

"And you as well. Can I get either of you anything?" Guinan asked.

"Chocolate sundae," Deanna said immediately. "With chocolate ice cream—"

"Chocolate chips and hot fudge," Guinan finished, making Deanna smile. "And for you, Faith?"

"Oh, um...I'm not sure," Faith winced. "I need something substantial but not too filling."

Guiana gave her a knowing smile and raised her hand to cut her off. "Say no more, I have just the thing. Be right back."

Faith sat tense in her seat, eyes darting around the room. Without realizing it, her breathing began to grow shallow. Deanna noticed and reached out to place a comforting hand on her arm. 

"Try taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly," she suggested in a low, calm voice. "Try to block everything else out."

It took Faith a few tries before she could manage, taking too many sharp inhales before she got the hang of it. Deanna patiently led her through the exercise until Faith's shoulders relaxed.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"You're very welcome," Deanna said.

At that moment, the doors opened and Data entered Ten Forward. Remembering his kindness, Faith couldn't help but smile to herself. Deanna noticed and followed her gaze, surprised when she saw who Faith was staring at.

Data was greeted by several people who he responded to with a stiff wave. His golden eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Faith, he immediately headed towards her table.

"Counselor Troi, Faith," he said by way of greeting. "I hope I am not interrupting."

"Not at all," Deanna said smiling. "Would you care to join us?"

"Yes, please." Data took the chair across from Faith as Guinan arrived with food. 

"Ice cream for the counselor," Guinan said, placing the dish in front of Deanna. "And, glazed salmon with greens and rice for the ensign."

The food looked amazing and smelled wonderful. Faith's stomach actually rumbled with interest and she picked up her fork.

"Thank you, Guinan."

"Think nothing of it. Hi, Data, can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," Data answered.

She took her leave and when Faith looked back at Data, she was surprised to find him already staring at her.

"Are you feeling better from your injury?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks. Much better," Faith answered before taking a hesitant bite of her salmon. A slew of savory flavors met her taste buds and she was amazed a replicator could produce something so delicious.

"How is it?" Deanna asked, holding a large spoonful of ice cream.

"It's really good," Faith said, reaching for another bite. "Data, are you sure you don't want anything? I feel weird eating in front of you."

"I had my supplements already. I do not require much," he explained. "I actually came here to see you."

Faith almost choked on her food. "Me? Why me?" she asked, face growing hot. She was well aware of Troi's arched eyebrow and her look of amusement at Faith's reaction. 

The truth was, no one ever asked for Faith or came looking for her outside of Engineering. With Data being a senior officer, she was worried she may be in some kind of trouble. Did he change his mind about telling Geordi? Did he have more questions? Did he find something she missed? Something big?

She tried to remind herself none of those scenarios were very likely. However, anxiety could not be reasoned with.

"Two days ago Geordi found another object physically out of place like the one you found," Data explained. "I wanted to ask you if you had noticed others."

Faith allowed herself to relax. Curiosity replaced anxiety. "Not really, but things are still a little fuzzy. I guess I hit my head pretty hard."

"It'll come back to you," Deanna promised. "Just give it some time."

Faith acknowledged her with a smile. "I hope so. I'll think about it some more and see if anything jumps to mind. I do remember being confused because it was so random."

"I see," Data said with a frown.

"Do you think it was deliberate?" Deanna asked.

"It had to have been. It is highly unlikely two stations in Engineering were accidentally moved, especially given the weight of them."

"They're pretty heavy," Faith agreed.

Just then Commander Riker walked in and caught Deanna's attention. Troi smiled at him before turning back to Faith and Data. "I'll leave you two to talk Engineering," she said, picking up her ice cream as she stood. "Faith, let me know if you want to talk some more."

Huh. Faith realized Troi had gotten her to talk some. That sneaky Betazoid. "I will," she said. She even meant it. 

Deanna stepped away, leaving Faith and Data alone.

"Are you having sessions with Counselor Troi?" he asked.

"No!" Faith immediately denied. "Well, yes, sort of. I'm thinking about it."

"I have found her advice helpful myself if that sways your decision."

Faith smiled, intrigued. "You see Counselor Troi?"

"I see her weekly and have sought her counsel on many occasions. While I have been around humans for a long time, their behavior is still puzzling to me."

"Join the club," Faith muttered.

"There is a club? I was not aware of this. Do they accept new members?"

Faith chuckled. "It's a saying. It means that you're not the only one who is puzzled by us. Humans confuse me too."

"In what way?"

"Too many to list right now." Faith took another bite of her food.

"When you are feeling better would you like to list them? I am curious to see if we are confused by the same things."

"Sure. Why not?"

Data offered a smile, staring at Faith as she ate. She got the distinct impression that he was studying her but she wasn't sure why.

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about?" she asked.

"May I ask a personal question?"

"You may but I might not answer it."

"Understood. I have not seen you in Ten Forward before. Do you wish to begin to socialize more?"

Faith considered his question as she gazed around the room. More people had wandered in since she arrived and the air buzzed with conversation.

"Maybe," she said after a moment. "I think today was Troi's successful attempt to get me out of my quarters for a little while. I might make it a habit."

"That would be a wise decision," Data said with a nod. "From what I understand, prolonged isolation does not help one's mental health."

"So it would seem," Faith sighed. "I have a hard time with crowds. However, I do have trouble sleeping. This may be a good place to go when I wake up in the middle of the night." She winced. "Although there probably won't be much socializing then either."

"I can accompany you if that would help."

Faith was surprised by his offer. "That's very kind of you, but you really don't have to."

"I enjoy speaking with you. It will be no trouble."

"I suppose without needing sleep you have a lot more time on your hands than we do."

"While it is true I do not require sleep, I often shut down for certain periods in the evening so that I may dream."

"You dream?" Faith asked, in awe.

Data nodded with a pleased smile. "It is a recent program that was activated quite by accident. It has been most intriguing."

"I bet. I haven't had a dream in months," she said. "If that's the case, I really don't want to impose on your dream time."

"As I said, it will be no trouble," Data assured her. "I can activate my dream program whenever I choose. Should you need an escort to Ten Forward in the evenings, I will gladly offer my services."

Faith allowed herself another smile. "As long as you don't mind, then I think I will take you up on your offer. Now, let's talk about the consoles in Engineering. What theories have you got so far?"

"There is insufficient evidence to make a clear hypothesis, however…"

Several tables away, Deanna watched the two with amusement. She could feel the shift in Faith's mood and see the life come back to her as she became engrossed in what Data was saying. Slowly she grew more at ease and seemed to have no trouble holding the conversation.

It was fascinating and incredibly sweet.

"What's going on over there?" Riker asked, following her line of sight as he stole a scoop of ice cream. 

"I don't know," Deanna admitted. "But I'm curious to see where it leads."

[vcepsis]

G2 with Lance/Shiro and Keith? Whichever you like most

Wow I am SO sorry this took especially long!! To be honest I wasn’t 100% sure what you meant by this and I should have asked, but I….didn’t. So it ended up turning into Shklance of some kind?? If this isn’t what you wanted please feel free to hmu again! And thank you so much for the request :)

Taken from this ask meme (Nausea + at home). A loose interpretation once again…I hope you enjoy! Beta’d as always by the perfect and beautiful @feverflushed

—–

Lance stood outside Shiro’s door, the tray in his hands shaking just enough to make the soup in the bowl ripple. He’d been standing there for a good five minutes now, wondering if he should knock or just leave the tray on the floor.

He let out a frustrated breath; this was stupid. He knew it was stupid, but it didn’t do much for his nerves. It was unusual for him, to say the least, but this was an unusual situation. 

Before he could make a decision, the door slid open and he was suddenly face to face with Keith, holding a bowl of water in his hands.

Keith looked up, taking a startled step back at the sight of Lance standing by his door. “Holy shit,” he said, softly despite the shock in his voice. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I just got here,” Lance lied smoothly, praising himself for keeping his voice steady even if his hands were still trembling slightly. He tried to look past Keith into the dark bedroom, but he couldn’t see much past the end of the bed. “How is he?”

Keith visibly deflated at the question, looking down at the bowl in his hands. There was a cloth floating in it, and Lance noticed how Keith’s hands were damp. “The same,” he said dejectedly. “I can’t get the fever to come down.”

Lance frowned, anxiety spiking hot in his chest. “Still? It’s been like, two days.” 

“I know,” Keith said, something between annoyance and worry in his voice. Lance saw how dark the circles under Keith’s eyes were, how pale he was. Had he slept at all this whole time?

“Well, I come bearing supplies.” Lance held the tray out, gently enough not to spill the soup or knock over the two water pouches on it. “Courtesy of Hunk. Coran said he’d come by later with another medicine to try.”

Keith eyed the soup warily. “I really don’t think Shiro can keep anything down right now. The fever is making him pretty nauseous.”

“That’s why the soup is for you,” Lance replied. “Really, when was the last time you ate? Or slept? Or left the room?”

Keith just blinked, looking surprised. 

Lance sighed. It was clear that Keith was in full worried-over-Shiro mode, and was therefore totally useless in taking care of himself. “Alright,” he said, only a little exasperated. “Switch with me?”

It took some maneuvering, but eventually Keith got the tray and Lance had the water bowl. He shot Keith a smile, hoping it looked more confident than he felt. “Be right back.”

It didn’t take long for Lance to get the bowl filled with cold water in the bathroom down the hall, where he washed out the cloth for good measure. He had been half expecting Keith to bite his head off; the only thing that made Keith even crankier than usual was when something bad happened to Shiro. Usually, it was cute. This time, though, was different. This time it wasn’t just Keith turning into a full blown Mama Bear over nothing. This was…serious.

Making his way back as quickly as possible, Lance let himself in Shiro’s room right away.

He wasn’t surprised to see the soup sitting on the desk in the corner, untouched, along with one of the water pouches. The other was in Keith’s hand, straw already in place, as Keith tried to gently coax it into Shiro. 

Shiro was lying against a small mountain of pillows, most of them more than likely pilfered from various areas in the Castle. There was also a pile of blankets at his feet, bunched up in an untidy mess. Shiro looked like he was barely awake, his head turned slightly towards Keith, eyes half lidded. His face was pale, several shades paler than Keith’s tired one, save for the red flush that Lance could make out even in the darkness of the room.

Whatever this sickness was, it had hit Shiro like a truck a few days ago, after they returned from an otherwise routine off planet mission. The only symptom so far was the fever, which explained the nausea, but it only climbed higher as the days went on. 

Keith, of course, hadn’t left his side since.

Lance stood rooted to the spot as Shiro took a few small sips of the packet, turning away after far too little. Keith looked unhappy, but didn’t force it. He ran a hand through Shiro’s sweaty bangs, murmuring praise as Shiro’s eyes fluttered shut. 

It was weird, seeing them like this. Lance didn’t know what the hammering of his heart meant, but the feelings were drowned out by the strangeness of it all. Of seeing Shiro, their indomitable leader, so seriously sick. Of Keith, angry and impatient, handling the situation with such a foreign tenderness. 

But maybe, there was a fleeting moment of jealousy buried somewhere in there. But for which person, he couldn’t tell.

Keith looked up, eyes sparking as he saw Lance standing there. He beckoned him over impatiently, and Lance felt the strange feeling again as he recalled the tenderness aimed at Shiro.

Nevertheless, he made his way over quickly, holding the bowl as Keith dipped his hands in to fish out the cloth. Wringing it out quickly, he turned back to Shiro, who had slid down the pillow mountain slightly, his breathing quick and shallow. Keith gently dabbed the cloth on Shiro’s cheeks, across the scar on his nose, down his neck. After a few dips in the bowl, he eventually swept Shiro’s bangs aside to lay the cloth against his burning forehead.

Pulling back, Keith let out a shaking breath, pointedly not looking at Lance. 

“Ok, seriously,” Lance said, taking care not to be too loud. “Eat something. You need to keep your strength up. You’re no good to him if you get sick too.”

Keith huffed a frustrated breath, turning to Lance. “Coran said we were all exposed to whatever this is. If we haven’t gotten sick by now, it’s probably fine.”

“Sure, but staying up and not eating will make you sick no matter what.” Lance gestured to the soup, still untouched on Shiro’s desk. “So eat. Maybe sleep too? Like in your own room?”

Keith’s eyes flicked over to the soup, and he slumped down in his chair. “I know. But..” His expression changed, just slightly, but Lance was taken aback by the obvious worry on his face. 

“I’ll stay with him,” Lance said suddenly, emboldened by the vulnerability Keith had shown him. 

Keith’s eyes widened at the offer, and he was silent for a moment. But in the end, he nodded. “Just for a bit,” he conceded, getting up from the chair. “And I’m not leaving.”

Lance sighed, but nodded in response. He could only hope for so much.

Taking Keith’s post by Shiro’s bed, he rested the half full water bowl on his lap, watching as Shiro slept fitfully. His breathing was still labored, and shifted just enough to make the cloth slip from his forehead. Lance readjusted it as gently as he could, but suddenly, Shiro’s eyes were on him. “L-Lance?”

“Hey, Shiro,” Lance said softly, trying to smile. “How are you feeling?”Shiro’s eyes were unfocused, glazed with fever. He looked troubled, and Lance couldn’t help but brush his hand against Shiro’s cheek. His eyes widened at the heat he felt there; it was even worse than he thought. He could only pray Coran’s next round of medicine actually worked–so far the fever hadn’t responded to anything he’d come up with. Lance still remembered the uncharacteristically serious expression on Coran’s face when the last remedy had failed to make a dent.

Shiro was frowning now, and it would have been cute if not for the dire situation his was in. “Lance,” he said again, softer this time.

“Yeah?” Lance responded, but Shiro was still staring at him with unfocused eyes. Lance, in a moment of desperation fueled insanity, wrapped both his hands around Shiro’s, belatedly realizing it was the metal one. Shiro looked down at their joined hands, fear in his eyes this time. 

“Not..that one,” he muttered, trying to take his hand back. Lance was alarmed at the lack of strength as he pulled; it took no effort to keep his hand in place. “I’ll…hurt you…”

Lance kept his hands wrapped firmly around Shiro’s metal one, squeezing just a bit, even though he wasn’t sure if Shiro could feel it. “No you won’t,” he said firmly. “You would never hurt any of us, Shiro.”

I trust you with my life, he didn’t say. I’d follow you into hell if you asked.

Instead, he moved one of his hands to stabilize the cloth, which had slipped again. “It’s ok, Shiro. You’re ok.”

This seemed to work, as Shiro relaxed a bit more into the pillows.

“You should try to drink something again,” Lance said, already starting to reach for the water pouch Keith had before.

But Shiro squeezed his eyes shut, turning away. “Can’t.”

This made Lance pause. “Why not?”

Shiro wrapped an arm around his stomach, breathing going choppy. He’d gone an alarming shade of pale at the mention of drinking “Can’t.”

Lance remembered how Keith mentioned that Shiro couldn’t keep anything down. Now he was even saying no to water. 

This was bad. Worse than Lance thought. 

There was a soft knock at the door, and before Lance was halfway out of his chair, Keith was already pressing the button to open it. Lance had dropped Shiro’s hand in the process, and Shiro whimpered softly.

At door was Coran. It was almost strange to see him like this: serious, unsmiling. Even his moustache looked a little unkempt, like he’d been fiddling with it without thinking. Lance knew Coran had been working on something for Shiro since this all began, redoubling his efforts when Shiro only got worse.

“Please tell me you have something,” Keith said in lieu of a greeting. Lance came up behind him, eager to hear the news.

Coran hesitated for a moment, eyebrows going up as he registered Lance’s presence, though it didn’t last long. He held up a vial, half full of something bright purple.

“This should do the trick,” he said tiredly. 

Keith eyed the vial warily. “Does he have to drink it? I’m really not sure that’s happening right now.”

But Coran just nodded. “Right. I know he hasn’t been eating. Pidge explained how fevers can affect your delicate human biologies. Not to fear, though.” At this, Coran gave the vial a little shake, seeming to perk up a bit as he explained. “I’ve made adjustments for that. Hopefully this will kick in within a few vargas.”

Keith didn’t seem entirely convinced. After all, nothing else had worked so far. But Lance stepped around him, taking the vial. “Thanks, Coran. We’ll let you know how it goes.”

Coran shot them a smile, though it still looked tired. “Very good, then. I truly hope this works.”

Lance knew how worried everyone was about Shiro, especially as he continued to deteriorate. Even Coran, it seemed, had begun to let it get the best of him. 

Coran turned his attention to Keith, giving him a once over. “Take some time to rest up too, Number Four. Can’t have you falling ill as well.”

“I’ll be fine,” Keith said, almost as if on auto pilot.

Coran sighed softly, but didn’t push it. 

“Good luck, boys.” With that, Coran left them to it.

The door slid shut as they both turned towards Shiro, who had hiked the blankets up to his neck, shivering. Keith cursed softly, hurrying to the bed and quickly covering him with the sheets he’d kicked off earlier. 

Lance came around the other side of the bed, vial still in hand. The purple stuff inside sloshed like water, thin and slightly translucent despite its unnerving colour.

He handed it over to Keith, who took it with a nod of thanks. “Can you…help me sit him up?” he asked hesitantly, as if expecting Lance to say no.

“Sure, dude. No problem.” He shot Keith a smile, who offered a shaky one in return.

Together, they managed to sit Shiro up, even as he grumbled a bit in protest. Lance couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in Shiro’s back moved, the hard lines of his shoulders. 

Shiro, half awake and even less lucid, kept trying to refuse the medicine, even as Keith pleaded with him to drink it. Lance rubbed soothing circles on Shiro’s back, hoping to help without overstepping.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Keith was saying. But Shiro still shook his head, wrapping a protective arm around his stomach.

“Please?’” Keith asked again, sounding just a little bit desperate. “For me?” He looked up, making eye contact with Lance. “For us?”

Slowly, Shiro looked up at Keith, then over at Lance. One of the straps on Shiro’s tank top had shifted just enough to show a horrible jagged scar that ran down his shoulder onto his bicep. Lance had tried to avoid looking as much as he could–he knew Shiro would never want him to see, under normal circumstances–but up close like this, it was hard not to. It made Lance’s heart hurt. But it also filled him with rage at the ones who did this to him. 

The muscles under Lance’s hands suddenly relaxed, and Shiro finally offered a single, jerky nod.

Keith let out a shaking breath, relief clear in his face. He managed to get Shiro to drink the whole thing in one go, before laying him back down on the bed with Lance’s help. Soon enough Shiro fell back into an uneasy sleep, curling up on his side with an arm still wrapped around his stomach.

Lance sighed softly, picking up the bowl of water and bringing it around the bed. After handing the bowl over, Lance took a step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I, uh…guess I should go?”

Keith looked up from the bowl, where he was wringing out the cloth. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Yeah. Sure.”

There was a moment of profound awkwardness, where neither of them seemed to know what to say. The silence was broken only by Shiro’s breathing. Was it Lance’s imagination, or was it sounding a little easier already?

Nodding, Lance made his way to the door, but before he got too far, Keith spoke up. “Lance?”

Turning slightly, Lance raised his eyebrows in question.

Keith seemed almost embarrassed, but he gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Relief flooded through Lance at that, at managing to help. He hated seeing Shiro suffer, almost as much as Keith did. To know Keith appreciated his help, especially with something so important, made Lance’s heart soar.

“Yeah, man. Anytime." 

[smoresmoresmore]

Will edit later

I just have to say

I was possibly exposed to Rabies and came to Tumblr for help and advice and was THOROUGHLY AND DISTURBINGLY DISAPPOINTED WITH THE RABIES TAG.

Omg

I was convinced I was going to die and searching anything Rabies related was UNHELPFUL AF. Not judging but y'all did not help lol.

Very long explanation of why I thought I was going to die:

Waking up to a bat (2 nights in a row) is not automatic cause to assume you will die but it is, I found out after talking to the Dept. Of Agriculture and their Epidemiologist, an immediate cause to go straight to the ER and get shot up with the vaccine and immunoglobulin so you DON'T POTENTIALLY DIE. It is not something the doctors can argue against and it is not something you should postpone. Especially since I was "under the influence" (Nyquil) at the time and even less likely to notice if I had gotten scratched or bitten. My being unaware was the key point in the urgency of going to the ER.

The ER doc was highly annoyed I knew just what to say ("I woke up with a bat in my face") and he grumpily admitted he was bound to follow CDC protocol. His annoyance was so obvious he repeatedly told me how unlikely it was I was bit and explained how "intense" the shots would be. I assume he felt the medicine could be put to better use on someone who was 100% sure and/or was injured. When I asked him what would happen to me if I WAS bitten and didn't get the shot like he wanted, he sighed and admitted "Well, you die."

"Well, shoot me up, doc!"

That night I got 7 shots. One in my arm, which hurt so bad--I guess because my nurse was new and may habe gone too deep because the subsequent shots I have gotten in the same arm haven't been anywhere near as painful-- and 6 in my buttcheeks. 3 in each.

Waking up from my Nyquil coma to a bat in my face was not fun. I had never related to those movie scenes of people screaming and running around afraid if bats. But jessuz. They are fast. And this one was swooping around my living room and deliberately getting super close to me. I had to hide under my blanket and in my fevered state this made me sweat. Trying to herd it to my now opened windows did not help. I tried to call police, fireman andnanimal control; the 1st two were useless and the 3rd was not open at 1am.

Eventually I reached out to my townie facebook group and got advice. White towels attract them. Or make it dark and quiet and hide--I did this as I was not going to run around with a towel in my undies like that video--which worked. 2 very concerned people urged me to go to a doctor.

"You say you have flu-like symptoms and a constant fever and you sleep in that room a lot. You really need to go to the ER. Rabies is so dangerous."

And after 2 nights of dealing with bats and my fever spiking right around the time they show up, I existed in a dark hole of stress. So much so that the second morning I woke up to my hand twitching erratically and my thumb muscle spasming and I started bawling. I had already gotten the shots the day before so I knew if I encountered anything rabid I should be okish (I still had 3 more to go before I was fully protected) but now, with my glitchy hand, I was panicking about "WHAT IF I ALREADY HAD IT?!"

Urgent Care had ruled out Strep twice for my odd sickness and had assured me I have a random virus and to just stay in bed for a few days. Which I had been doing faithfully, before getting bored and moving to my livingroom nest. I like to sleep in there a lot and often do when the weather is nice. I just made sure to drink water and tea and get sunlight and all the things. Including Nyquil. But my fevers were getting worse. I was feeling like crap. And now what we all assumed to be A Normal Virus was morphing into my worst nightmare.

Probably egged on by 101 temperatures, I called around until someone was willing to explaon to me whether I was dying or not. Getting told "You'll be fine. It is SO RARE," did not calm me down. I needed someone to explain how the long incubation period (months to a year) and symptoms (flu like, emotional, twitchy) did not match me.

I slept in that room on accident and on purpose since moving in almost 9 months ago. I'm a heavy sleeper and don't wake up easily. Iffff I had been bitten during one of my all-nighters doing math homework or essay writing, it makes sense I would suddenly get a random "virus" that isn't going away. I had it all worked out in my head. I was getting headaches in the sun and stores. I forced myself outside and out and about when I felt ok because fuck it if I was going to let this be a symptom I had. I was getting anxious in the shower but, knowing fear of water was a symptom, I forced myself to stay in it. (Turns out my paranoia was right. The water was starting to be hard and my skin was breaking out. It is very annoying. The timing was just horrendous)

All the doctors and nurses kindly told me I was safe since I had started the shots but no one had an answer for me when I asked if they helped if I hadddd it already. They weren't sure. The amount of information they have or are willing to share is astonishingly low.

After 2 hours of phone tag I was finallly able to get an appointment with an Infectious Disease Doctor. She told me that if I did have it there was no real evidence about the vaccine helping, especially since I had only had the first dose at that point. She told me it would be fast though and they couldn't tell until "you're foaming at the mouth." She asked to look in my mouth and when I told her about my drooliness she said to let her know if it got worse. She asked about my hand. I told her. She asked about numbness and I freaked cuz my arm did go numb at one point.

I askwd her about tests. I had read that there were a few--spinal fluid, spit, blood--that were not really reliable. She said since I had the vaccine and immunoglobulin in my system already they would show up and it would be pointless.

My only option was to wait. And chill. And try not to dwell on the fact that there is no answer or cure or way to find out if I should plan my trip to Oregon and die or if I should allow my boyfriend to visit me.

He was firmly in the You Don't Have Rabies camp and came over anyway to feed me soup and hang out. But I refused to kiss him. It made him very sad and probably extremely exasperated.

My boss was so done with me when he asked if I could come in the next day. "Sasha. You cannot have Rabies. Just come to work. You'll be fine." And I realized how crazy I sounded but I still warned all my coworkers.

Anyway, my lowgrade fever continued, my twitchiness stopped, my drooling stopped, my water was hard so I avoided the shower but cleaned my good bits, and once I doubled up my water intake my headaches disappeared. I went into a mini death spiral for a day but decided to force myself into believing I was fine.

When I started getting confused and fainty, I bought Iron supplements. When I started getting angry and anxious, I called my friends and got distracted. When it was time to get another shot, I made sure to update everyone of the weirdness Just In Case.

One nurse took the time to sit me down and listwn. That's really all I needed since no one had answers. I just needed my mind soothed and concerns not dismissed. She couldn't explain the muscle spasm but could definitely see why I was freaking out. She was the one who tested me for peace of mind. She looked into Lyme disease. She found my anemia. She explained that the amount of time that had elapsed made her sure I was going to be ok. She had watched people die in Africa from this and shw said it happens So Fast it is tragic. I would not be able to organize a trip to Oregon to die. I would become incoherent and slip away within days.

That was what I needed. A timeframe. A legit explanation of what it looks like and how it happens. And why I don't fit. This whole time I had been wondering how to tell my friends. Whether I could write all their numbers down in case I couldnt function enough to call them or remember my phone password. I was planning on cleaning my apartment so good so the landlord couldn't bash me when I was bouncing off the walls and hissing at him. I was deciding who I really needed to contact and who I could live without wasting breath on. I was planning a goodbye party. I told all 3 of my lovers ("´hey, I have this thing there is no real test for while you're alive but there is once you die so you can't get tested, and you may have it so got get shot up but no one is sure if that will help much," but I did tell them and it was hilarious to them. My favorite response being "RIP" and "F") And this all had put me in such a dark place that, coupled with a few shitty days at work with my bully of a manager, I also asked for a psych person to visit me after the Rabies shot.

After her talk I was like, oh. Thank godddd. And kinda annoyed at having to wait an extra hour in the ER for a talk that could wait til morning. But I chatted with rhem and asked for referral to a shrink since this had just highlighted how much I need help with my anxiety. Especially since the temporary issue of Rabies was being resolved but my cruel manager was still going to exist now that I was going to survive this beef with nature. It was nice to think of that way "my rabies beef is getting cooked" and the pscyh lady got me help. So that was nice. I just mainly needed to get healthy again so I could

I mean. Almostbarelybutnotreally facing a cruel death was a great way to look at life and reflect on some things. There are messes I am not at fault for, messes I avoid that I shouldn't, people and things I value and the objects that matter to me more than others for ridiculous reasons. I was so grateful to the staff for putting up with me. And for you for reading.

All of this just to say

Circle circle dot dot

Soon I get my last Rabies Shot

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunter’s Short Story #14 part 3.

It was a warm summer’s day in August of 2015. 23 year old Cristina Blackthorn-Kingson was dozing in and out of sleep on a sofa in the library, with her two daughters tucked up either side of her. Elena had been born 3 years ago, she was a surprise baby, but the best surprise her parents had ever gotten, and her little sister Ari had only been born last year, she was a planned baby, though Cristina hadn’t expected to fall pregnant with her so quickly, she, Mark and Kieran had only begun trying when Cristina fell pregnant.

She had never been happier in all her life, Mark and Kieran were wonderful husbands, so loving and caring, and they were wonderful fathers too, though Elena was Kieran’s biological daughter and Arianna was Mark’s, Kieran and Mark treated both girls completely equally, they were both their daughters, it didn’t matter to them who their biological father was, any child Cristina had, was theirs too.

Cristina had been reading to the girls in here when they began to fall asleep, Cristina had been quiet tired lately, so she took the opportunity to snuggle her babies and get some rest. She had no idea how long she’d been lying with the girls for, it could have been minutes or it could have been hours, but she didn’t care how long she had been there, she was simply enjoying the quiet and being with her daughters.

“I swear those two could fall asleep anywhere.” Cristina hears Mark softly say in an amused tone. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles tiredly at him. Mark was standing just a few feet away from the sofa, his blonde hair ruffled, a smile on his lips.

“So could I lately, I’m just so tired.” Cristina says, holding back a yawn.

“Kieran and I will get these little ones settled, you go on up to bed, maybe if you get an early night you won’t be so tired tomorrow.” Mark gently says, carefully gathering Elena and Ari into his arms.

“I’ll wait up for you and Kieran, I don’t like falling asleep on my own, I’m not use to it anymore, I always either have you two or the girls beside me.” Cristina says, pushing herself up from the sofa and rubbing at her eyes. Mark bends down and kisses her forehead before saying

“I understand my love, I cannot sleep without you or Kieran either, we shouldn’t be long settling these two, they seem out for the count.” As Mark makes his way out of the library, Cristina is stopped in her tracks by a fire-message fluttering down at her feet. She stoops to pick it up and quickly unfolds it to read it. The message is from her mother, telling her that she will be visiting LA in a few days to see Cristina and her granddaughters. Cristina was thrilled, her mother was still running The Institute in Mexico and was often very busy so she didn’t get a chance to visit much, last time she had visited, Ari was a newborn baby. It would be lovely to have her mother around for a while and it would be wonderful for the girls to see their grandma. The girls knew all about Mark’s father and mother, Eleanor and Andrew, and knew their papa’s mommy and daddy were with The Angel watching over them, they also called Gwyn ‘grandpa’ and Diana ‘Nana’ even though Diana is not that much older than Cristina, they girls figure since Diana is married to their grandpa, she’s their nana, simple as that. Diana didn’t mind being called nana one bit, she adored Elena and Ari, she and Gwyn did not want children of their own, but she did love children and having these two little girls love her so much, made her very, very happy.

When Cristina had told Mark and Kieran of her mother’s visit, they were of course very happy but also very nervous, they both felt that Carmen thought Cristina could have done much better than either of them, and that she did not approve of their relationship or like Kieran and Mark, when she had visited last time, when Ari was born, she barely spoke to Kieran and Mark. Though they didn’t tell Cristina of their worries that her mother didn’t like them, they would never want to upset her like that.

________________________________________________________________

It was now the day before Carmen came to LA to visit her daughter and granddaughters, Ari and Elena were very excited to see their grandma and it made Cristina so happy that her girls had such a close relationship with her mother.

Currently, Cristina was sitting on the beach with Emma, watching as Elena played at the edge of the ocean and Ari dug in the sand, looking for shells and other things to bring back as a gift for her Uncle Jules, who she simply adored. Cristina’s fatigue had not gone, in fact she only seemed to feel worse now, and she was fairly certain she knew why.

“So, I think I’m pregnant.” Cristina blurts out to Emma. She needed to tell someone, but she didn’t want to tell Mark and Kieran until she was sure. Emma was her best friend, she knew she could tell her anything and she’d keep it a secret.

“Seriously?” Emma asks, looking at her with wide brown eyes. Cristina nods and says

“Yeah, I have all the symptoms I had with the girls, I don’t know though, it’s probably still really early on if I am pregnant, and it wasn’t planned.”  She, Kieran and Mark absolutely wanted more children, but not just yet, Ari was only 1, Elena had been 2 when Ari was born, they were hoping to have at least 2 years between Ari and the next baby, but it seemed fate had other ideas.

“Don’t you have the rune?” Emma asks, raising an eyebrow at Cristina, who she knew was always very careful about using protection.

“I do, I did, but I hadn’t realized it had worn off, I thought I had another few days, but the morning after that night, I realized the rune was totally gone, and I’m not sure whether or not it was there the night before, if it was it was probably useless if it was totally gone a few hours later.” Cristina quietly confesses.

“Are you upset that you might be pregnant?” Emma gently asks.

“Oh no, absolutely not, I’m just nervous about the fact that if I am pregnant, there will only be a year between Ari and this baby, the thought of raising three kids under 4 is terrifying.” Cristina says in a shaky voice, laying a hand on her stomach.

“Well Tina, there’s no point getting worked up and upset until you know for sure, right?” Emma gently asks.

“I guess.” Cristina meekly says.

“Come on, lets take the girls back to their dads and I’ll come with you to get a pregnancy test, I know you hate going to the Silent Brothers, I do too.” Emma calmly says, jumping up from her spot on the sand and holding out a hand to Cristina.

They take Ari and Elena back up to The Institute to Mark and Kieran and Cristina tells them she’s going out with Emma for a bit to get some last minute things for her mother’s arrival tomorrow. Neither Mark or Kieran suspect anything else is going on and simply kiss her goodbye.

Emma and Cristina head to a mundane pharmacy that’s not far from The Institute and Cristina picks up the first test she sees. Emma grabs two more and insists she buys them as well, just so she can be sure. Once the tests are bought, they head back to The Institute and up to Emma’s room where Cristina can use the en-suite without worrying about her husbands walking in on her taking the test.

Cristina waits the allocated 3 minutes, with Emma by her side, assuring her that everything would be okay. When the timer on Emma’s phone goes off, Cristina is pulled from her thoughts, startled by the sudden, loud noise.

“Good luck!” Emma says in a sing-song voice, playfully shoving her best friend toward the bathroom.

When Cristina looks down at the three tests in the sink, she immediately sees that they’re all positive. Although she was so nervous, excitement and joy bubbled up inside her too and she couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes. With one hand she covers her mouth and places the other over her belly, where her baby was growing, another sweet, beautiful baby, to love and snuggle and raise.

“Oh Tina, what’s wrong? Were they negative?” Emma gently asks, coming up beside her friend, noticing the tears streaming down her face. Cristina shakes her head and finally takes her hand away from her mouth.

“No, no they’re all positive, I’m going to have another baby!” She exclaims in delight.

“Oh Cristina that’s wonderful! Oh I’m so happy for you!” Emma exclaims, pulling her friend into an embrace.

“Oh I have to tell Mark and Kieran, they’re going to be so happy.” Cristina says through the tears. “Oh! My girls are going to be big sisters!” She adds, realizing that Ari won’t be the baby anymore, she couldn’t wait to see her with her little brother or sister.

“Yes they are and they’re going to be wonderful, just like their Aunty Emma! Do you want me to look after them for a bit while you tell Kieran and Mark?” Emma asks, pulling back from their embrace.

“If you wouldn’t mind, it would be easier to tell them without having to worry about the girls running in and disrupting us.” Cristina says, wiping her tears away.

“Of course I don’t mind, I love spending time with them!” Emma says. They make their way to the kitchen first, where Cristina suspected Mark would be making lunch for the girls and Kieran would be doing his best to help him, while the girls laughed themselves silly at every little thing their daddy and papa and daddy did wrong. She was right, when they walk into the kitchen, Cristina immediately sees her husbands and daughters.

“Elena, Ari, you wanna come hang out with me and Uncle Jules for a little while?” Emma softly asks her nieces.

“Yeah! Can we play a prank on Uncle Jules?” Elena asks. Emma grins widely and says

“What a fantastic idea Elena! Yes we absolutely can play a trick on your Uncle Jules, come on!”

“Don’t let your Aunty Emma get up to too much trouble!” Cristina calls as the girls and Emma leave the kitchen.

“Come sit down my love, you are not well and need to rest.” Kieran gently says, guiding Cristina to a chair at the kitchen table. He was so protective of her and Mark, any time either of them were the slightest bit unwell, Kieran would fuss over them endlessly, insisting that they stay off their feet and rest.

“Actually, speaking of me being unwell, I found out why I haven’t been feeling so good lately.” Cristina lightly says, discretely slipping one of the pregnancy tests from her pocket to her hand.

“What is it?” Mark asks, turning the stove down and joining his wife and husband at the table.

“This.” Cristina quietly says, handing the pregnancy test to Kieran, who was closest to her. Kieran looks at the test in confusion.

“What is this?” He asks in a confused tone.

“I-it’s a pregnancy test... a positive one.” Mark quietly says in a tone of shock.

“Pregnancy... Cristina are you pregnant?” Kieran asks in a shocked voice, turning to look at his wife, who was grinning broadly.

“Yes, yes I am.” Cristina says.

“Oh my god.” Kieran says in a choked tone. He immediately drops to his knees and buries his face in Cristina’s stomach, pushing her shirt up and peppering her stomach in kisses. “Hello little one, I love you so much, I cannot wait to meet you.” Kieran whispers, as Cristina twirls his hair through her fingers with one hand, and grasps Mark’s hand with the other.

“Mark, are you happy?” Cristina quietly asks.

“Of course I am! I’m just a bit shocked, but I am thrilled, I love being a father and the fact that we are going to have another baby is simply the best thing I have heard all day, all year in fact.!”  Mark replies in a joyful tone. “I would talk to the baby too, but Kieran is already hogging the baby.” He adds in an amused tone.

“Oh are you jealous Mark?” Kieran lightly says, rising from his kneeling position and taking Mark’s hand in his.

“Perhaps a little, I would not mind some of those kisses.” Mark says in a  sultry tone. Kieran laughs and leans in to kiss his husband.

“I love you, all three of you, so much.” Mark softly says, when Kieran has pulled back from the kiss, resting his hand on Cristina’s stomach. and holding onto Kieran’s hand with the other.

“As we love you, dear Mark.” Kieran says, basking in the joy he never thought he would feel.

The next day, Carmen arrives just before noon, greeted immediately by her daughter, granddaughters and sons-in-law.

“Mama it’s so good to see you!” Cristina says in a joyful tone, wrapping her arms around her mother.

“It is good to see you too mija, we need to make these visits more regular, perhaps next time you three could bring the girls to Mexico, show them where their mama grew up and teach them about their culture.” Carmen says, pulling back from her hug with her daughter.

“That’s a wonderful idea mama, the girls would love it there and they would see Jaime and Diego every day, they’re always asking when Diego and Jaime are coming to visit.” Cristina lightly says. Over the years she had repaired her relationship with the Rocio Rosales brothers and they were all closer than ever, Diego was a wonderful influence on the girls and helped them learn about Shadowhunter history, while Jaime was their fun cool uncle, who gave them ice cream for breakfast and let them break the rules, for obvious reasons, Jaime was their favorite.

“We must arrange it, now where are my beautiful granddaughters?” Carmen lightly asks, looking around for Ari and Elena.

“They were here two seconds ago!” Cristina exclaims.

“It’s alright, Mark saw them run off and went after them, he’ll get them back in a moment.” Kieran calmly says, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s arm.

“I think I’m going to be the youngest person ever to go gray, because of these two!” Mark exclaims, walking up the hallway with Elena and Ari in his arms.

“Grandma!” Elena exclaims, dashing straight to her grandma when Mark sets her down, and Ari is not far behind her.

“There’s my beautiful girls! Just look at you, you are getting so big!” Carmen says, crouching down and holding her arms open for her granddaughters.

“Grandma bring presents?” Ari asks in a hopeful tone, her brown eyes shining with hope.

“Arianna, you didn’t even say hello to grandma!” Cristina scolds her youngest daughter.

“Hi gandma, you bring presents?” Ari asks, and Cristina can’t help but laugh, Ari was very clever, just like her daddy and papa.

“Of course I brought you presents, you go through to the drawing room and I will come in and give your presents in a moment, alright?” Carmen gently says. Without another word, both girls dash off to the drawing room.

Carmen draws herself upright and turns to Mark and Kieran.

“I hope you are both treating my daughter and granddaughters like royalty.” She calmly says.

“They are mama, they are absolutely wonderful husbands and even better fathers. they are never anything but amazing to the girls and I.” Cristina assures her mother.

“Well good, you two make sure it stays that way.” Carmen firmly tells Kieran and Mark.

“Of course Senora Delgado Menodza.” Mark says, nodding frantically.

“We understand your concern for Cristina, Senora, we feel the same about our daughters, but we will never hurt her or our children, never.” Kieran firmly says. Carmen gives a curt nod and says

“Good.” She then turns and makes her way to the drawing room.

“Should we tell her about the baby?” Mark asks, looking at his wife. Cristina shakes her head and says

“No, not you, lets not tell anyone yet, it’s still quiet early, anything could happen, with Ari I had that bleed and though she and I were okay I was glad I didn’t have to explain it to everyone, I would feel better if we didn’t tell anyone till after the first trimester.”

“Of course love, whatever makes you happy.” Mark softly says.

At four months, when they told everyone about the baby, all their friends and family were thrilled for them, and Elena and Ari were very excited to be big sisters.

Cristina, Mark and Kieran asked Dru and Jaime to be the baby’s godparents and they were utterly thrilled, just like Jaime Dru was the girls’ fun, cool aunt who let them do whatever they want, and for that they absolutely adored her.

Cristina’s pregnancy, like the other two, went very smoothly, she had no bleeding, barely any pain and hardly any sickness, she could hardly believe her luck but was thrilled that she felt so good during her pregnancy.

The baby was meant to come in the middle of May, but by the time it was almost June, they hadn’t made their appearance. Currently, Cristina was only days from being the full two weeks overdue and if the baby didn’t come before the 3rd of June, she would have to be induced. Thankfully she would still be able to have a home birth and the procedure would not be uncomfortable and invasive like the mundane procedure is. The Silent Brothers would simply give Cristina a concoction of herbs that would start her labor, and that was it, at this point Cristina just wanted the baby out of her, she was so uncomfortable now the baby was so big. She had tried everything to induce labor herself, but nothing had worked. She was currently in the room she shared with Kieran and Mark, with her husbands, having just got back from another long walk to try and induce labor.

“God this kid just won’t come out!” Cristina exclaims in a frustrated tone, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh Cristina don’t cry, it’s okay.” Mark softly says, pulling her into him.

“Please, please just get this baby out.” Cristina begs, tears pouring down her face. Kieran pushes her shirt up and bends his head to her stomach, pressing a kiss to the spot where the baby was kicking.

“Come now little one, it’s time to come out now, we’re all ready to meet you.” Kieran softly says.

‘”Your daddy’s right baby, it’s time to come out and meet us, we want to meet you, we want to love you and hold you, I promise it’s even better out here than it is in there.” Mark gently says, placing his hand on Cristina’s bump.

“This baby’s never going to come out!” Cristina sobs.

“Of course they will Cristina, this time next week they’ll be with us,  you heard what Brother Enoch said, if the baby doesn’t come by tomorrow, they’ll induce you, and then the baby will have to come out. My mother was induced when she was pregnant with Ty and Livvy, they did not want to come out either, but once she was induced they were born in a matter of hours, it really won’t be long before we have our beautiful baby here with us.” Mark reassure his wife.

“God I hope so.” Cristina quietly says.

The next day came and went and absolutely nothing happened, so Brother Enoch was summoned and after examining Cristina, he agreed to induce her that very day, she had never felt so relieved in all her life.

While Cristina got changed, Mark rang Jem and told him that Cristina was being induced today. Originally they had wanted Tessa to deliver this baby, as she had delivered Ari and Elena, but she herself was currently 8 months pregnant, so she couldn’t deliver the baby, however Jem stepped in and offered to deliver the baby, he had delivered many babies as a Silent Brother and knew exactly what he was doing. Cristina immediately agreed, feeling much more comfortable with Jem, who was so kind and sweet, delivering her baby, rather than a cold, harsh Clave medic.

________________________________________________________________

It had been two hours since Brother Enoch gave Cristina the herbal concoction that would induce her labor and she was beginning to feel some very intense contractions, they knew the induction had worked, only 40 minutes after taking the concoction, Cristina’s water broke and contractions began, but now the pains were getting bad and pain killing runes were doing nothing for Cristina.

“Oh god! This hurts!” Cristina weakly exclaims, leaning into Kieran and crying out in pain as another contraction hit her. She felt restless in the bed, so she had decided to stand, alternating between leaning against Kieran and Mark, with her arms around their neck and their arms around her waist, currently she was leaning on Kieran and Mark was checking on the girls who were with Helen and Aline.

“You are doing wonderfully beautiful lady of roses, it will not be long now and we will  have our beautiful baby.” Kieran calmly says, rubbing Cristina’s back.

“Would you like to try another pain killing rune, Cristina?” Jem gently asks. Cristina shakes her head and in a breathless tone says

“No, no they don’t do anything for the pain, they just make me feel sick, I can do this without pain relief if I have to.”

“Well you’re extremely brave to do this without pain relief, if it gets too much and you change your mind just let me know, I can ask Magnus to come in and give you a pain killing spell.” Jem says in a kind, soft voice. He felt awful for Cristina, she was clearly in so much pain and so desperate to just have her baby, he couldn’t imagine what it was like, he dreaded seeing Tessa in so much pain when their child was born.

“I just want this baby out.” Cristina weakly says, breathing through an intense contraction.

“I understand, I’m sure it won’t be long now, are the contractions getting closer together?” Jem asks. Cristina shakes her head and in a tearful tone says

“No, they’re getting more and more strong but they’re still like 10 minutes apart.”

“I can check you over and see how progressed things are if you like.” Jem offers.

“No, not yet, I can’t bear that right now.” Cristina says in a breathy tone.

“That’s alright, I can check you later if you’re feeling a bit better, for now if you’re comfortable as you are then just stay like that, shall I get Emma to bring you some tea or something to eat? I know some don’t allow laboring mothers to eat, but I think that’s cruel and ridiculous, you need something to keep your strength up.” Jem explains.  

“Actually some tea sounds really nice right about now.” Cristina says, closing her eyes and breathing through another pain.

“Of course, you’re doing so well, I’ll be back soon.” Jem gently says, patting her arm lightly before slipping out of the room to ask Emma to bring Cristina some tea. He would do it himself but he didn’t want to be too far from Cristina in case things suddenly started moving faster.

“Jem, how’s Cristina, is she okay?” Emma asks in a worried voice, walking up to join Jem outside the infirmary door.

“Things are moving very slowly and she’s in a lot of pain, she says the pain killing runes are doing nothing for her but she’s willing to try and do it without anymore pain relief.” Jem calmly tells her.

“Oh my god, that’s so brave of her! Is there anything I can do for her?” Emma ask.

“Actually I was just looking for you, could you bring her some tea? I would go myself but I think it’s best I stay close to Cristina in case the baby suddenly decides to come very quickly.” Jem says.

“Yeah of course!” Emma says.

Cristina labors for a further ten hours with absolutely no sign of the baby making an appearance, she continued to labor all through the day and very late into the night, but Mark, Kieran and Jem never left her, Kieran and Mark were a constant comfort to Cristina, rubbing her back, holding her hand, putting cool compresses on her forehead when she got too hot, anything she wanted or needed, Jem kept his distance when he was not needed, he let the three of them get through it together but was there when he was needed.

At four in the morning, Cristina finally feels ready to push, and continues to push for almost 3 hours. She was getting close to meeting her baby now and just wanted it to be over.

“That’s it Cristina, you’re doing so well, won’t be long now.” Jem gently says, as Cristina leans back into her pillows, trying to catch her breath between contractions.

“Oh God I’m going to ground this kid straight away for causing me so much pain!” Cristina exclaims, lurching forward to push when she feels another contraction. Jem chuckles lightly and says

“Well you can the them that yourself soon, I can see the baby’s head.”

“You can do it Tina, you can.” Mark softly says, squeezing her hand gently. Cristina pushes again, barely stopping between contractions.

“That’s it Cristina, good! Baby’s head is out, just one more big push!” Jem encourages. Gripping onto her husbands’ hands, Cristina takes a deep breath and pushes as hard as she can, until she feels a weight lift from her followed immediately by a sharp wail. She cries out in relief and collapses back into the pillows.

“Oh Cristina you did it! You are so amazing, beautiful lady of roses, you are so wonderful.” Kieran softly says, brushing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

“Jem, is it a boy or a girl?” Cristina asks in a breathless tone. Jem smiles widely up at her and says

“You have a beautiful baby boy.”

“A boy? Are you sure?” Cristina asks in a tone of awe. She had been convinced she was having another girl, she always thought of the baby as a girl, she had no doubt that she was having a girl, she thought there was no way she would have a boy.

Jem laughs and says

“Yes, quiet sure, he’s a very healthy little boy too, congratulations.” Jem places the baby on Cristina’s chest and lightly squeezes her shoulder. “I’ll give you four some time to yourselves, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He softly adds.

Cristina immediately pulls her baby closer to her, pressing her lips to his little forehead. He was the most beautiful little boy she had ever seen, and he looked just like her, he had a mop of black curls, brown skin, Cristina’s bone structure and mouth shape, and his little eyes and nose seemed to be completely his own, he looked nothing like Mark or Kieran, he was his mother’s little twin.

“Oh baby boy, my sweet Gabriel, hello baby.” Cristina coos to her son. She and Kieran and Mark has chosen a different boys name this time around, they just didn’t like the name Eduardo anymore, not for their child anyway, so they had settled on Gabriel Antonio Blackthorn-Kingson, and Cristina couldn’t believe they actually got to use their boy’s name this time.

“Oh, he’s perfect.” Mark softly says, gently stroking Gabriel’s dark curls.

“He is beautiful and perfect, like his mother.” Kieran softly says, bending to kiss Cristina and then placing a kiss to his son’s forehead.

Little Gabriel snuggles further into his mother and reaches a hand out of his blankets and presses it to his mother’s cheek.

“Oh sweet boy, you recognize our voices don’t you mijo? Oh I love you so much my sweet boy.” Cristina says through tears of joy, holding her baby close and tight.

“Are you still going to ground him for causing you so much pain?” Mark lightly asks. Cristina laughs and shakes her head.

“No, no of course not, I don’t care about all that pain anymore, it was so worth it to have him, and it’s not his fault, he didn’t mean to hurt me, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, to have him, every second of the pregnancy and labor was worth it.” Cristina softly says, gazing at her son, totally and utterly in love with him.

“Our little prince, we’ve been waiting for you for so long.” Kieran softly says, putting his arm around Cristina and their son.

Cristina, Mark and Kieran spend hours snuggling and bonding with their baby boy, they agree to introduce everyone to him the next day, right now it was their time to be alone with him.

Mark was currently sitting in an armchair beside Cristina’s bed, skin to skin with his son, while Cristina and Kieran simply watched them.

“And you called me a baby hog Mark Blackthorn-Kingson, you’ve had him for about 2 hours now!” Kieran lightly says, rising from his spot on Cristina’s bed and making his way to his son and husband.

“He likes being with his papa.” Mark quietly says, beaming up at Kieran.

“Well he’ll like being with his daddy too, give him here!” Kieran says, holding his arms out for his son.

“Fine, but only because I get to see you without your top on now.” Mark says in an amused tone, carefully passing the baby to Kieran.

“Just to annoy you perhaps I’ll keep my shirt on, I just need to unbutton it and Gabriel will be blocking your view.” Kieran lightly says, settling into a chair and placing the baby on his chest.

“Your daddy is so mean to me Gabriel.” Mark jokingly says, stooping to kiss his son’s little head. Kieran grabs Mark’s arm to stop him form walking away and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t I get one of those?” He asks. Mark grins and kisses Kieran on the forehead. “You know that’s not what I meant!” Kieran lightly says.

“You two are such children!” Cristina giggles.

“Oh is that so? Or are you just jealous?” Mark lightly says, kissing Kieran on the lips and then making his way to Cristina.

“Maybe a bit.” She lightly says, grinning as Mark cups her face in his hands and kisses her. His hand begins to slide up her top but she pushes him away. “No Mark, I just gave birth, I can’t handle anything more than kissing.” She firmly says.

“Of course, I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me, I should have realized, I am sorry.” Mark says in a sincere tone. He would never want to hurt Cristina or upset her in anyway, he had no idea what he was thinking, trying to be intimate with her after she just gave birth, he knew they couldn’t have sex for at least six weeks, it had been the same when Elena and Ari were born.

“It’s alright, I love you, all three of you.” Cristina says, smiling at Kieran as he takes a seat on the edge of her bed with Gabriel in his arms. “My boys.” She softly says, reaching out to stroke the baby’s cheek. Kieran leans in and kisses her cheek before softly telling her

“Your boys love you too, beautiful lady of roses.”

[jilldsumner]

First time tumblr.

I’m in the East U.S so, Good evening. This is literally my first public encounter where I am confident to use my real name. I never started a facebook account, no instagram, I was on imgur about 7 years ago but I don’t remember what my username was then.  I’m on bored panda. I make a lot of funny comments and upvotes, but haven’t done any submissions of my own. 

I’m basically a divorced introvert with agoraphobia, bipolar 2 disorder , major depression, panic disorder, weather migraines, social anxiety, a long history of panic attacks, daughter of a toxic mother, unemployed, and as of Sept 2018 I am thyroidless. 

 I am a living meme... I have 3-5 friends because I used to have a job and I knew them for over 10 years so they sort of adopted me. Even my job was solitary, and I picked the area, the basement. I worked as a pet groomer for 18 years, up until my last breakdown in March 2018. I checked into a mental hospital because I thought I had some sort of brain tumor causing a psychotic episode(never had one, but couldn’t explain it any other way). On day 2ish, after they were treating me for withdrawal { with all negative drug tests!} they zeroed in on my thyroid. I can’t pinpoint when my symptoms started, but they built up one at a time so I didn’t put them together. And my previous T4 test had been done in May 2016 and it was closer to the low end than problematic. In 2 years it was 5 times higher than the highest normal level. When somebody says your thyroid controls everything, BELIEVE THEM! I was too weak from losing almost 15 pounds in 2 months and suffering Parkinson's like tremors to do it myself, and a screamingly high pulse (130-150 sitting still) and blood pressure. And if being diagnosed wasn’t crushing enough I developed a goiter that started swelling around the nerve bundle of my neck that served my left ear and larynx. My neck went from 15 inches to 17.5 inches in a couple of months. And the endocrinologist got scared when my levels were not responding to medication, I lost my voice, developed vertigo, and lost my frigging hearing in that ear!

 Other than endless doctors’ appointments, testing, therapy and medication checks for the mental hell I was trapped in, I don’t remember much of 2018. Except for the one time my Mother had to drive me to the doctor for my post-op check-up and she side-swiped a car.She claimed she had no idea where to turn. The same route I had Driven Her every 2 weeks for 5 MONTHS!  And the entire year of her living with me (she won’t frigging leave my house) telling people I was afraid to stay by myself, which was NOT true, but it made her look good so what did it matter if she slandered me. What I did need her for was to take care of my 2 dogs and 4 cats, she couldn’t do that, other than feeding them. Screw cleaning the boxes or messes, or letting the dogs out With any reasonable frequency. I needed her to supply , in some form, 3 meals a day even if she could just bring in groceries.  She couldn’t remember to do that. She couldn’t remember to wake me up to give me my meds when I was finally able to sleep. I would fly into rages from the uncontrolled hormones, and thus useless mental illness meds and she would make it worse with a lecture that I Hurt Her Feelings. Her back up lecture was “Why don’t you love me” Followed by the sermon “You’ll miss me when I’m dead”.   She took over my home with her clothes, her magazines, her sloppiness, her junk food diet, and her “anxiety” ( she has to get out and go places while at the same time putting clips on my curtains to block out all sunlight because she doesn’t want anyone looking in at her) .Then there was her constant “ you’ll be able to go back to your old job soon.” Never mind that I had somehow lost the ability to do what I was so good at. And she wouldn’t listen to the words coming out of my mouth. She may be my Mother, but I’ve been doing Me for 40 ish years, and so far I’ve had 100% accuracy. 

Sorry for starting off with a play by play for the last year of my life. I wasn’t expecting to get on such a roll.

[femnet]

Do you remember the last time you were unable to wash the dishes without letting something fall and got irritated at the first comment thrown your way? You could not concentrate on anything, nor get assignments right, and were grumpier than usual about the weather or that corrupted world we live in, protesting because the wifi was slow or wanting to throw your phone to the ground when this special person did not answer. You felt useless and tired, in the mood to sleep without being able to.

Well, let me -- to be read in a sarcastic way -- surprise you, these are all symptoms of a NO day.

Of course, there are many more -- which you can write in the comments if you feel like it -- but the point is the same: we all suffer from these.

Still, why should we?

Here are 5 tips, personally tested, to help you fight off your NO days.

1- Recognize and accept them

Two years ago, I used to play tennis at an agonistic level -- sports almost took more time than studies in my schedule: I trained seven days a week, twice a day, around four hours a day. I am a very perfectionist person, and hence always gave my best, showing positive results.

However, I sometimes stepped on the court already discouraged, bothered by some other aspect of my life, and things only got worse from that point. I couldn’t hit two balls in a row, run properly, nor hold my racquet to save my life.

I tended to punish myself with harsh words and treatment, and you can guess how bad these trainings ended: deep down in helplessness.

One day, I came across an interview of a professional tennis player, in which he stated that, some days, it seemed to him like he didn’t know how to play tennis. He said it takes off your shoulders a lot of weight to only admit that, this day, you won’t be able to do things as you usually do, and it’s perfectly fine.

I tried, I recognized my NO days, and it worked. I felt lighter.

2- Identify the cause, change the perspective

I hate when my father tells me to “rationalize”, but sometimes this is exactly what you have to do.

What is biting on your patience? What makes you want to cry? Is it a valuable reason, because you are tired, or feeling stressed lately?

Point at the reason of your NO day, and change the perspective in which you see it.

It’s raining and you can’t go on your daily bicycle ride? Ok, it flopped, but this leaves you more time to do something else! Maybe watch a movie, or spend some time with your family.

You got a B on your assignment on which you had worked for weeks? It most certainly is painful, disgusting, hateful... but at least you didn’t get a C!

One of my mottos is: “You have a problem. Is there a solution? If yes, then why do you worry? If not, then why do you worry?”

Don’t take little things too seriously, don’t dwell on big things for too long, change your point of view!

3- Breathe

There isn’t much explanation to make about this one. It is scientifically proved that breathing deeply alters and regulates the chemical balance of your body.

One of my favorite exercises is the one called 6-7-8, which is also perfectly useful against stress.

Sit or lie down, and place one hand on your stomach and another on your torso. Inhale for six seconds -- during the first three seconds raise your stomach, and the last three your torso --, block your respiration for seven seconds, and exhale for eight -- first from the stomach, then the torso. The circulation of air should be uniform, feel like a wave under your palms. If 6-7-8 is too hard for you, you can lower it to 4-5-6, but be sure to maintain the same rhythm.

Repeat each sequence for at least two minutes, and at the end you’ll feel as good as if you had slept half-an-hour!

4- Express yourself

Introverts will certainly want to avoid this point, but don’t! It is one of the most important.

Expression is often viewed as “talking about it.” Still, expressing yourself doesn’t have to be done in presence of somebody.   

My favorite way of letting my concerns out is to write what I feel on a piece of paper, without stopping to grab a particular idea. My thoughts run so fast that I can’t write everything, and get lost in a sea of incomplete sentences. Most of the time, my “brainstorming” starts with a rant about how society pushes women down and ends up either with a list of empowering movies to watch, a new idea for a text, or even a new recipe to try.

Singing also counts, as well as drawing, dancing, playing some instrument, running, etc.

Channeling the bad energies and recycling them into positive ones is the point of expression. You need to change your mind’s focus.

If, in addition, you have a best friend ready to listen to you, and cheer you up with some ABBA songs, then you’ll be more than fine.

5- Relax

IT. IS. OK. TO. CHILL.

If you are like me, and have a ton of things due in the next days, keep in mind that you’ll never get them done if you’re in a mucky mood. Your brain can’t work properly if under too much stress and pressure.

All the previous tips are somehow connected to this one, but explore with me the world of relaxation a little more.

Read a book, and drop the one you were reading if it is boring. Watch a movie you longed to see. Make yourself some hot chocolate. Draw meaningless doodles on the margins of your notebook. Surf Buzzfeed or Tumblr. Get lost in thoughts about your grandma’s apple pie. Lie on the bed without thinking of anything. Daydream. Fall asleep without concern.

Do anything you want, but remember the golden rule: if you get annoyed by this activity, switch to another one, because the point is that you do something that will change your mind.

Warning: you are allowed to do this only to fight NO days, and only with activities that are meant to relax you. Studies, jobs, tasks, and other serious aspects of life do not fall in that category.

I really hope that these tips will help you, they have dragged me out of dark days many times. Feel free to leave a comment here or on our ask box if you’ve tried them out!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

COTW 18 - Full. Another chapter in which it was getting too long

Stress induced nosebleed, followed stress induced nosebleed over the next few days. Eren's nose had a mind of its own, though thankfully none of the subsequent breeds had been as bad as the first one. His omega had had his physical examination, coming out of that to one heading straight to the bathroom throw up, before refusing to talk about what happened in there. Levi hadn't met the police departments social worker before, but being an alpha didn't help the woman's case, despite her kind if not overly professional nature. While it was true that Eren's fear of male alpha's had grown so much better, the scents released by the woman in question were so strong to his omegas sensitive nose, that the moment he'd laid eyes on her, he'd flinched away. With only 3 full days left until the trial started and with two of them being the weekend, it was too late to find another social worker. He was worried enough for his omega, that he'd forgotten things could go from bad to worse with his mates mental state. Once again, he wasn't allowed to join Eren for his appointment in case he impacted on Eren's results, or tried to influence his mate's decisions. Nuzzling and kissing Eren's cheek, his mate was hesitant to let him go. Despite the fact he was dressed in one of Levi overly large shirts and his Paramedic jacket. When Eren was led away, it felt more like his mate was being torn from his grip. Eren was only gone from his sight for a short time before the social worker was opening the door and calling him down. Jogging down the hall, the woman stepped forward to stop him rushing into the room "We need a medic. I can't leave..." "I am a medic" Pushing past the woman, Eren was curled into a ball in the far corner of the sparse room. The examination was being held at the police station, already throwing Eren was out of his comfort zone, and the concrete walls of room were much like the rest of the station. Designed to be alienating and cause feelings of discomfort. Rushing over to his mate, his growl silenced the therapist and the social worker who were both whispering furiously over the examination "What the fuck did you do to him?" Whimpering and whining, Eren was continuing to attempt an escape "Eren. Eren its Levi. I need you to breathe for me" "You're not supposed to be in here!" The examiner was so fucking lucky he had his hands full with Eren. Placing his hands on Eren's face, his fiancée gave out a pained cry. His lips were moving, but nothing was coming out as he silently cried for help "Eren. You're ok. You're safe. They can't hurt you. I'm here. Listen to my voice" Kicking out at him, Levi copped it to the shin. Releasing the left side of Eren's face, he moved his mate's leg aside to kneel between them. With the way he was breathing, his mate was on his way to passing out, rather than calming down "I'm here. I need you to focus on me. Breathe for me. Come on. In through your nose" He wasn't getting through at all. Leaning in, he guided Eren to his neck. His omega trying to shove against him, while Levi held him firm "Shhhhh. You're safe. You're in a safe place... shhh, I've got you. I've got you, brat. No ones going to hurt you... I've got you" Rocking Eren, his mate let out a strangled kind of whine before his whole body went through the motions of sobbing, without the sound. His breaths falling as a whimpering pant of pain. Crooning softly, Levi rubbed his mate's back "I'm here. I'm here, my omega" He failed to anchor Eren and calm him down, his mate slumping in his hold and falling still. Repositioning Eren into his lap, he tapped his face gently. Yeah, there was no way the examination was continuing today "Mr Ackerman?" "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Depression. Anxiety. Not only that, he's 5 months pregnant. I know both of you are trained to recognise the symptoms of the onset of a panic attack. How could you let things get this bad so fast? The moment he started exhibiting symptoms, you should have paused the evaluation. What did you say to him? What could possibly so important that you needed to push him to the point he couldn't respond?" Glaring daggers at the pair of morons who'd done this to his mate, he snapped when they took too long to answer "Well!? What do you have to say for yourselves?" "Eren became non-responsive during questioning over his childhood" "Non-responsive. Non-reposive or non-verbal? There's a big difference between the two of them" The therapist in charge of the examination let out long breath. Like the man was doing anything strenuous enough to warrant breathing "He was able to provide clear answers to the initial questions over his identity, however once we moved to establishing his childhood, he became agitated, before signing your name. Explaining to him that you couldn't be present due to the nature of this appointment, I felt it was fine to continue with the line of questioning" "You were warned about his health when we arrived here" "The specifics of which were withheld for a clear and fair assessment of his mental state" "Well here's what you wanted, he watched his father kill his mother. He watched two alpha's he thought he could trust kill his brother, after they had their way with him. He had a complicated first pregnancy, and even more complicated one this time around. This is why the social worker was supposed to be on his side to prevent something like this happening" In his arms, Eren let out a low gasp, his mate struggling slightly before burying his face against Levi's chest "L...Lee?" "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe" Letting out a low whine, Levi moved to gather him up. Now the social worker decided to look appropriately worried "Has he come too?" "Yes, and now I'm taking him home. He's not able to answer any of your questions like this" "I've called for an ambulance..." "He doesn't need an ambulance" "For our records, he needs to be seen" "You do realise I work with, or know, whom ever it is that is going to respond. They will the same thing I am saying. He needs to go home and he needs to rest! Oh... fuck" Eren's nose was starting to bleed again... "Eren, I'm going to move you up to sit in the chair. I'm not leaving you, ok? I'm right here" Sitting Eren up, his mate wouldn't look him in the eye. With a wad of substandard paper against his nose, he kept his gaze at his feet. Floch was now hovering, as they waited for the paramedics. The medical officer assigned to the police station knew him, declaring himself useless as Levi had the situation in control, before kindly fucking off like Levi wished the others would. Erwin was the one to take the call, shadowed by two of his students. It wasn't how he wanted Eren to meet his students, not that he wanted them to meet him at all. It was hardly impartial, Erwin having them write up Eren's stats and patient form, while hovering in the corner with his arms crossed. The only variation on his diagnosis and treatment of Eren's panic attack, was that they recommended a trip to hospital given his pregnancy. Eren declined with a shake of his head, the students turned to Erwin for confirmation. Erwin agreed with them, but left the decision to Levi, who decided it was time for Eren to go home and rest where he felt safe. Carrying Eren out, his mate kept sighing every few steps. Letting out an even louder sigh as Levi opened the car door for him. Sighing back, Eren frowned at him "Are you going to talk to me, or keep sighing?" Eren huffed "The silent treatment... I see how it is" Settling his mate down, Eren shook his head "Oh... you know you can use your words. You can tell me anything, Eren" Shaking his head, Eren started to sign at him "I don't think I can do this" "Hey. You can" "They wanted to know about dad" "Yeah. He said as much" "It hit me all at once. And..." He waved his hand at his throat "Alright. I understand. You just rest, when we get home, I'll run you a bath with all the oils and salts you want" "Don't you have work?" "I start at 7. It's overnight to night" "You're still not talking to Erwin?" "I'm not ready to" "I think you should" Leaning in, Levi kissed Eren's forehead "We'll talk about it when we get home" "Lee. You don't have many friends. I don't have the energy to stay mad. I'm going to slap him..." Eren's hand movements increased. He hadn't realised his mate had put time into learning more sign language along the line "Slow down. I'm rusty here" "I'm going to slap him. But I want you to make up with him" "What are you, my mum?" "I'm just your mate" "There's no just about it. You're my mate and I'm sorry you had to go through that" "Take me home. I want to cuddle" "And you're not going to tell me the rest of what happened in there, are you?" "No. It was just dad" "Ok. Next stop is the apartment" Eren fell asleep on the drive home, his mate's face still too pale for his liking. Carrying his lover up to their apartment, he couldn't help but be angry over what had happened. Yes. Grisha was a piece of shit who'd turned tail over some bullshit about protecting Eren and Zeke, but Eren hadn't known anything about it. He'd thought his father had just abused him and abandoned him. Grisha was sure to come up in the trial, but there had to have been a way bringing it up much more gently. Letting them in, he narrowly missed knocking Eren's head on the doorframe. Hanji was looking after Viren, and would be dropping him and Anna home on her way in to work, leaving them with the whole apartment to themselves... and Titan. The cat in question was laying on his back on the sofa, snoring his head off and not giving two shits that they could be breaking in. Kicking the door closed behind him, his efforts to leave Eren sleeping were ruined by the sound of door slamming slightly. Whining at him, confused eyes met his "You fell asleep during the drive. I didn't mean to wake you" Closing his eyes again, Eren was adorable as he nuzzled into him "Let's get you into that bath. I can wash your hair for you" Nodding, Eren gave a sleepy purr. He didn't expect a purr, but he'd take it and the feelings behind the sound. A snuggly Eren was a nice change from an Eren so stressed he was jumping over everything. Getting them stripped and into the bath, he washed Eren down before starting to fill the tub. His omega so tired he'd wet himself when Levi had set him down on the toilet. Climbing in behind him, he wrapped his legs around Eren's, pulling his mate down so his head rested on his shoulder. Nuzzling Eren's hair, he let his hands slide over Eren's swollen belly. Their next ultrasound was coming all too soon. Floch had said the witnesses would be testifying before the evidence was presented, with the idea being that the witness testimony would be forgotten by the jurors. Moaning softy, Eren placed his own hands over Levi's "Don't worry. I won't do anything, but I love the feel of your skin beneath my fingers, and I love this stomach of yours. I know things are shit at the moment, but this makes me so proud. You. Beautiful and pregnant like this as we make our family bigger. No matter what happens, you're my mate. No matter what anyone says or does, you're my omega. And the mother to our pups. The only mother they could ever want or need. You're so amazing, Eren. You might have had a tiny set back today, but now you're laying here and letting me hold you. I love you" Reaching up, Eren bopped him on the nose, before cupping his right cheek so he could kiss the left one "I know. I'm an old softy. If you sit forward, I'll wash your hair" Wriggling forward, Eren whined at him when he moved his hands off the omega's swell. Kissing along the curve of Eren's neck, his omega whined at him "Ok. Ok. I'll wash your hair. You're such a brat" Eren purred up a storm as Levi washed his hair for him. Relaxing back against him, kisses were pressed to his cheek as his hands were moved back to Eren's stomach "More belly rubs? I can't wait to start feeling them... I wish I could right now" Drawing on the back of his hand, Eren traced out the word "soon" "Yeah. We should probably finally look at what needs to be done in your old room to make it Viren safe, and move your things into mine. It's going to be awfully crowded in here. You. Me. Viren. These two little ones, and Titan. It's going to be a very full house" Wriggling away from him, water was sent everywhere as Eren turned to look at him "Safe" "What do you mean? Are you wondering if it's going to be safe? Or you want to stay here because it's safe?" "Here is safe" "I know. I was just thinking out loud" "Do you want to leave?" "Leave?" "Here?" "Not at this very moment. But I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind about the lack of space here. Come back here, you don't need to worry about it. That's what I'm here for" Eren's frown deepened, he mate moving further away. Grabbing his arm, he pulled back to him "When you get old, all you seem to do is think. Things are fine the way they are, and I want you in my room... our room. I can see if we can get the doors swapped, so you'll be able to lock the door to our room when you need to... and we can make space to move all your things back in... and turn our bed into a nest... with all the blankets you want" He may be slightly scrambling to un-upset his mate. Eren still not looking happy "We can start when we get out. I promise" Huffing, his mate signed at him "I don't want to think about leaving this place" "I know you love it. I didn't mean to upset you" "I'm sorry. I think I need a nap or something" "Eren, you don't need to be sorry. I was just... I was thinking out loud. I should have kept my mouth shut" "No" "Yes. You're upset enough as it was. I let your purring go to my head. I've missed the sound of your happiness" God. He was going from bad to worse. Eren looked ready to cry "Not that you're not happy! No. I'm fucking this right up. What I'm trying to say is, I'm a shitty alpha. We were supposed to be cuddling and relaxing, and I fucked it up. God. Ok, I'm going to shut up now" Leaning in, he thought Eren was going to hit him. Instead his mate kissed him, before flicking him in the middle of the forehead "I deserved that" Nodding, Eren made towards getting out. Letting his mate figure out the best way to get out without slipping, Eren held his hand out to him once he was out "I'm allowed out?" Rolling his eyes, he shook his hand, Levi taking it "I don't deserve you" From the bath, Eren let him wrap him up in a thick green towel. Covering himself, he took his mate's hand again, supporting him across the wet floor and to their room. Drying his omega down, he grabbed Eren some sweats and shirt. Ignoring the shirt, his mate wiggled his way into his sweats before claiming Levi's side of the bed for himself. It only took a few moments before Eren was asleep, Levi sighing to himself quietly as he covered his mate with the closest blanket. He didn't know if he was supposed to stay? Or if he was supposed to go now that Eren was dressed and sleeping... He had a bathroom to clean, but Eren would probably be plagued by nightmares... and he had a shift to get ready for. Despite having just fallen asleep, Eren came padding out their bedroom half an hour later. Levi sitting on the sofa with Titan as his mate walked over to him. Sinking down, Eren wrapped his arms around him, dissolving into tears as he did "Nightmare?" Shaking his head, Eren pulled back enough to sign "I'm sorry we fought" "Oh, brat. That wasn't a fight, and it's not worth these tears" "Please don't leave me" "I'm not leaving you alone. Think about it, in just over a week, I'll be home all the time. I'll be around so much you'll be sick of me" "Dad left" "Eren, the only good thing that man ever did was creating you. He was a coward who's lies cost people dearly. You're strong and you have a strong sense of justice. I'm not leaving you" "I feel like worse is coming" "I don't know. But we've got each other, and Viren" "He's going to hate me" "He's not going to hate you" "I can't speak" "Eren, we both know it's not permanent. You're stressed, and tired, and exhausted, and you smell like you're trying to go into heat again. It's all a bit much right now, but with a good nights sleep, you'll feel better. By the time Hanji drops the kids off, it'll be bed time. Which means, I want you to sleep. I'll be fine at work. I always am" Eren had been sopping wet with slick as they'd bathed, but the smell of fear and distress had covered the scent of heat. With that washed away, his natural scent was overriding the scents of jasmine and strawberries from the bath salts. He really shouldn't be surprised. It'd been Grisha and Zeke who'd taught Eren heats were wrong. Yet it was Grisha who'd really instilled the fear over being an omega... If Eren couldn't find his voice before the trial started, he'd ridiculed over his silence "Erwin?" Pulled from his thoughts, he pushed down his jealousy over Eren mentioning Erwin "No. He's on a different shift rotation" "You should talk to him" Reaching out, Levi wiped at Eren's tears "You worry too much. I want you to be selfish. I want you to put you and our pups first. I want you tell me what you need" "You" "You already have me, and you don't need to worry. I was never mad at you. It wasn't a fight. It's time to go back to bed" "I don't want to go. I want to stay with you" "We have time before Hanji drops the kids off. I'll stay until she does" "And then I'll close my eyes and when I wake up, you'll be gone" "I'll be back just before 8 tomorrow morning. Then we can go out? We can go have breakfast?" "I..." Eren bit his lip, before looking away "You don't want to leave the apartment?" "It's stupid" "It's like you said. It all hit you hard. I'll bring home breakfast. I'll even buy you one of those ridiculous concoctions people try to pass off as coffee. With all the cream and sprinkles you want" "You don't need to buy me anything. I don't deserve anything" "Hey. I'll get myself the same thing, so this could be your only opportunity for revenge" "I don't want revenge" "Think about it. I'll pick up whatever you want" "Anna likes muffins, but Viren prefers cupcakes" "You're thinking about the kids. I asked what you want" "I want you to come home safe" "I'm going to do just that. I'll be waiting for your answer" "Ok" "Good. My sweet omega... that reminds me, I need to check the mail on the way out" Eren raised an eyebrow at him "What's that for? Are you expecting something?" Eren nodded at him. That wasn't all that surprising. Eren had become adept at online shopping which was perfect. He had the independence of going shopping and buying the things he liked, even on the days his anxieties were giving him hell "Well, I'm sure it'll still be there when I head down to the lobby. Now, its bed time" He felt like he was talking to Viren. Viren didn't love bed time, unless their son was absolutely exhausted before hand, it meant a dozen trips back to his bed, to get him to stay in bed. Now Eren was pulling the same stunt. They were running out of time, when the trial started, rest would be the furtherest thing on Eren's mind. * Eren was still frustratingly mute as the weekend passed. He'd tried to find his words, yet each thought of facing Nick and discussing his relationship with his father, left him feeling like his throat was wrapped in thorns. It felt as if they'd stitched his vocal cords closed, so that he'd never utter a words against them. His lungs felt like they were stuffed with dead flowers, unable to take a full breath, they seemed to creak and crackle if he tried. Floch was furious at him over it, and Levi furious at Floch. An interpreter had to be sought out, though they were appointed by the court, so things shouldn't be too hard in that respect. He didn't know, but he didn't have to go into the courtroom and listen to the opening stuff. Witnesses weren't allowed into the trial until after they'd given evidence, even then, he was sure he didn't want to be there. He didn't want Nick to get away with anything, but how was he supposed to hold his fear back? Floch had pretty much stated that his breakdown with the therapist was a blow to their case. It made him seem childish and sullen. He didn't want to be childish and sullen. He wanted to be strong like Levi was. Sitting on their bed, he was staring down the gift he'd ordered for Levi. It was two wolves, or their heads at least, that were on necklaces. It was some cheap thing, make from a cheap metal, but when he'd seen the interlocking necklace he'd wanted it. Levi was his alpha, while he was the omega. Two parts that were supposed to come together to make a whole "What are you looking at?" Dropping half the necklace on the floor as he jumped, he stupidly lunged for it, forgetting about his swollen belly. Squashing his stomach, and straining his back, he was no where near reaching the necklace half when Levi calmly walked over and picked it up "It's a wolf. Did you buy this?" Nodding at his alpha, he held his hand out so Levi could drop the pendant back into his hand. Placing it on his left hand, he aligned the second piece "That's pretty cool" Tapping on the silver wolf, he then pointed to Levi "It... sorry, I don't get it" Placing both pendants on his knees, he signed "I bought them thinking of us" "You bought them for us?" Levi sounded unsure "You're my alpha. Like an alpha wolf. Alpha and omega" Levi reached out and ruffled his hair "They're great. Which ones mine?" "Silver. Like your eyes" "And bronze like your skin?" Eren nodded at him "Do you mind?" It was Eren's turn to be confused. Picking up the bronze wolf, Levi unclipped the parrot clip "Could you lift your hair?" Oh. Oh. His mate actually liked his gift? He was worried Levi would find it stupid. Lifting his hair, Levi slipped the necklace around his neck, clipping it in place "I can't be up there on the stand with you, but think of this wolf, and think of those rings on your finger, and know I'm right there with you" Kissing the top of his head, Levi gave him a gentle smile as he took his own necklace and put it on "I should get us another set chains for these. I don't want to risk losing it. There. Does it look ok?" Eren nodded quickly. The silver wolf was the perfect choice for his alpha "Good. I wasn't sure about them" "Eren, they're perfect. You're perfect. I know you're scared about today, but everything will be over before you know it" "I feel stupid that my voice didn't come back" "Eren, it's ok. They have your statements. It's been entered into evidence. The jurors will read your words. They well see what those shitty arseholes put you through. They're going to know and they're going to make the right decision. You've done the right thing. You haven't said anything on social media. You haven't caused a scene or made a huge fuss out of it. You tried to get on with your life and was dragged back into the because a shit for brain pig had a little power and thought he could lie his way out of this. Now, I'm going to get dressed and then we'll head down there" "I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I want to scream, or vomit, or faint..." "I wouldn't recommend doing any of that. I'm leaving my phone home, are you?" "Yeah. I don't want anyone taking it off me. I've got stuff on there that can't be replaced" Photos and videos of Levi and Viren together. Photos with the kids. Photos and videos of Viren's birthday. Videos of him and Levi not wanting to get out of bed. All his other photos were in boxes at Hanji's still. Viren had gotten into them and damaged more than just a couple, so for now, they were safer at her house "Everything's going to be ok, Eren. Don't forgot that" * The courthouse was huge and smelt of stale water. It was the kind of huge that felt pointlessly so, yet, people were everywhere. All doing all different things he'd never be able to imagine, and things he'd never be smart enough to do. Floch had met them at the front of the courthouse, talking at them a million miles an hour until Eren wasn't sure which way was up. He felt nauseous beyond belief, and way under dressed. None of his nice dress shirts covered his stomach properly, so he'd been forced to wear an overly feminine shirt that mean him feel emasculated. It felt like he was hiding behind his dynamic, but he hadn't even thought about trying to find a suitable shirt for court. Separated from Levi, he was lead to a small room. With a guard at the doorway, he was too nervous to even ask if he could go to the bathroom. Floch had said if he didn't fuck things up, he wouldn't have to come back unless there was a need for it. All this stress for one afternoon was insane... Without a clock in the room or his phone, he had no idea how long he'd been left there for before he retrieved... and confusingly led back to Levi. He hadn't even had to take the stand and he felt like he'd run a marathon. Standing next to him, Floch looked annoyed "It's alright. They've had to move witness statements to tomorrow morning..." That wasn't alright at all... moving to Levi's side, his mate wrapped his free arm around him. Kissing his cheek before continuing "... something about paperwork or something" Nodding, he wondered why the fuck he'd been left alone for so long "I think it's time we head home for now. Floch, is there any reason I can't take him home?" "No. You'll need to be here by 8am tomorrow morning. If you approach the front reception, they'll direct you to where you need to be. Let's pray that you've found your voice again by tomorrow" Even if Floch was angry, he didn't have to take it out on him "Eren, let's go" Leaning heavily on Levi, he was blinded by camera flashed as the slipped out the courthouse. Knocked back into the closest glass window, he yelped at the painful elbow blow he'd taken. Clutching his stomach, he hunched over in pain, the shock greater than the radiating throb. Dropping his head, he felt like he was the one to blame for small accident "Hey! What where you're going!" Looking up, he found himself gazing into the cold eyes of Nick. The piece of shit he was supposed to be testifying again "Sir, we need to go" Nick looked him up and down, his top lip raising into a sneer "Watch where you're going, you disgusting waste of space" Walking away from them, Eren was shaking from the incident as Levi tried to take his attention from the man "Eren?! Eren, what's wrong?" Shaking his head, he needed a moment. The pups were going crazy, they'd been doing so all morning "Eren?" Holding up a hand, Levi stopped questioning him as Eren slowly realised there was no way it could have been an accident. The man had elbowed him straight in the stomach. They were clear of the doorway, nearly at the edge the top step. He'd stumbled back... Nick knew who he was and he'd intentionally "attacked" him. He'd tried to rattle him. If Levi knew, he'd lose it at him. Dragging himself up, he rubbed as his stomach "Eren? You ok?" Nodding, he let Levi pull him back against him. Opening his mouth, he tried to make the words work, but nothing wanted to come out "Did you trip? Or did someone knock into you?" He shook his head, then nodded "Someone knocked into you?" Nodding again, Levi let out a low growl "That's it. We're going home. I'm sorry I didn't notice it happen" Levi had his hands filled with Viren as it was. He didn't blame his mate for not noticing. Guided away from the swarm around Nick, Eren couldn't breathe. He kept vomiting into his mouth. His body was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and keeping upright after seeing Nick delighting in his pain, was hard work. He had no idea how he was supposed to take the stand tomorrow. Or how he was supposed to make his ultrasound appointment. This ultrasound was supposed to a little cooler than the normal ones as it would make an actual model of their pups. He could see their tiny faces and fingers... and it'd been hard to make an appointment for it. He doubted they'd just let him get up and leave mid-testimony. Even if he was stuck mute at the moment. Especially when Nick was more than happy to come after him, in front of the media and the police. Any number of cameras could have caught the exchange, and he was lucky the man didn't have any kind of weaponry on him, or he'd be dying on the pavement rather than being in Levi's arms. He'd known this trial would be dangerous... Looking to Viren in Levi's arms, tears rushed to fill his eyes and spill down his cheeks. There was nothing stopping them from coming after his boy. Nothing stopping them from taking him away. Ignoring the pain, he reached for Viren. Lifting his son into his hold and burying his face against his hair. He smelt so much like Levi, that he himself believe the boy would be an alpha. He was fierce and brave when he wanted to be, or so very soft and timid that he was almost a different child. His laughter was infectious, as was his cheeky smile. He didn't want him mixed up in this. He didn't want that smile to fade and his little heart to be broken. Or, even worse, he didn't want his son to be broken and hurt. Reaching the car, he fussed over getting Viren into his car seat, before climbing up to sit in the back. If he Levi had asked, he wouldn't have been able to find the right words over how much he needed Viren right then. Luckily, Levi didn't ask. His mate not burdening his already thinning frame with burden of guilt. In all actuality, Levi probably hadn't even thought twice about it, his alpha being able to read him like a book. This whole case was about omegas and their children... like him, and Viren was his son. He wouldn't let Nick have his way, and he wouldn't let Viren carry the weight of his sins, like Grisha had done to him.

[shirlleycoyle]

If You Can’t Stand People Fidgeting, You May Have Misokinesia

In 2014, Todd Handy was having dinner with a new girlfriend when she interrupted the meal with a confession. "I don't want you to feel attacked," he remembered her saying.

She explained that Handy had a fidgeting habit, and she found it very stressful to watch and be around. "Of course, I was concerned as a partner,” said Handy, a professor of psychology at the University of British Columbia. “But as a visual neuroscientist and somebody who studies visual attention, it really piqued my interest. I thought, 'Hey, what's going on here? This is a very interesting phenomenon.'”

It sounded to Handy like a visual version of misophonia—the “hatred of sound,” or "sound rage," a condition in which people have intense emotional and physical reactions to trigger noises, often chewing or lip smacking. When he consulted misophonia research, he found that a paper from 2013 had called a reaction to visual triggers misokinesia, or a "hatred of movement." He casually started to ask his lecture classes if anyone was bothered by seeing another person fidget.

“And literally a third of the class would raise their hands and you could just see this look on their faces they were like, ‘Oh, my gosh. He’s talking about something I'm suffering from.’”

Last week, Handy and his colleagues published the first study to focus solely on misokinesia in Nature Scientific Reports, with first author PhD student Sumeet Jaswal. The paper is mostly focused on determining how common misokinesia might be—and their findings remarkably resemble the impromptu surveys Handy did on his classes. In a total of over 4,000 people, one-third said they were sensitive to watching others fidget, and that it caused negative emotions like anger, anxiety, and frustration to arise.

Arjan Schröder, a postdoctoral researcher at Amsterdam UMC and the first author on the 2013 paper that coined misokinesia, said this prevalence matched what he has seen in his misophonia patient samples. Yet, as Handy's work shows, misokinesia might also be quite common in general populations too.

Handy and his colleagues first asked a group of students whether they ever had “strong negative feelings, thoughts, or physical reactions when seeing or viewing other peoples’ fidgeting or repetitive movements," like someone’s foot shaking, fingers tapping, or gum chewing. 38% of the students responded yes, and 31% reported having both misokinesia (visual) and misophonia (audio) sensitivity.

Then they asked an older, more demographically diverse sample (not students) and found a similar prevalence: 36% of participants reported they had misokinesia sensitivity and 25.5% reported having both misokinesia and misophonia.

It's an intriguing finding that misokinesia and misophonia seem to exist both together and in isolation. On the subreddit for misophonia, one person shared that noises didn’t bother them severely but fidgeting did.

“If someone starts shaking [their] foot or tapping their hand, even if they make no sound whatsoever, I get very irrational and I have to block my view, usually with my hand,” they wrote. “EVERYONE shakes their foot. I can't live with this anymore. Everyday I encounter MULTIPLE PEOPLE AT ONCE shaking their feet and I only have two hands.'' Another remembered losing their temper as a child as a man in an elevator tapped his foot, so much so that they stomped on his foot on their way out.

Watch more from VICE:

Sometimes people can have both triggers, but one is more upsetting than the other. “My visual triggers are just as hard to handle as my audial triggers,” one person shared on Misophonia Education. “Sometimes they are worse. I find it nearly impossible to escape a sight in the room. Even when I close my eyes, and even hours or days later, the memory is still there. I want to cry as I think of these triggers. Legs shaking, people swaying, fingers and toes tapping.”

Having both audio and visual triggers can make interacting with the world all the more challenging. And whereas people with misophonia can wear headphones to block out noise, “I can’t wear earplugs for my eyes,” another shared on Misophonia Education. “I suppose I could wear a blindfold, but this has impractical applications. I am also more likely to remember visual triggers and never want to go back to the place. If I have been visually triggered somewhere in the past, I will not want to go back.”

Handy thinks the next big questions their study poses are how exactly misokinesia is related to misophonia, whether it can help better explain the mechanisms of misophonia, and whether it can potentially lead to coping strategies and treatments.

Schröder believes there are likely similar mechanisms at play since both misokinesia and misophonia involve an irritability triggered by human cues: movements and sounds. “Both have a repetitive nature and some form of unpredictability: When will it stop, when will it start again?” He said. “Additionally, I think, there’s some moral assessment at play. The person who is experiencing the emotion thinks something of the trigger: Why is the source of the sound/fidgeting doing it? It seems useless! Why do you continue?”

Elsewhere, there have been several attempts to understand the biology of misophonia. One study showed through fMRI imaging that there was an increased activation in a part of the brain called the anterior insular cortex in people with misophonia. This area of the brain is important for, among other things, sensing one’s own body and processing emotions.

Recent work from Mercede Erfanian, a neuroscientist at University College London, found that misophonic's brains function differently in the premotor cortex: the premotor cortex and auditory cortex were hyper-connected and they were communicating more than is considered typical. "This means when sufferers listen to sounds, the premotor cortex also activates, and this does not happen in the brain of non-misophonic people,” Erfanian said. A similar pattern was found between the premotor cortex and visual cortex.

Erfanian thinks this could be a neurological basis for these reactions, and that it may implicate the involvement of mirror neurons, neurons that activate when we see others move, as well as when we move ourselves. It could help explain why some people with misophonia say that they mimic the sounds as a coping strategy, to cover up hearing the trigger noises with their own sounds, she said.

The neuroscientist and author V.S. Ramachandran and his colleagues theorized that there might be similarities to synesthesia, when sensory stimuli trigger other sensations and emotions. Typically with synesthesia, letters evoke sounds, or sounds evoke colors, but in certain subtypes it can be more varied. In a case of tactile-emotion synesthesia, the feeling of sandpaper evoked a feeling of jealousy, and denim provoked the feeling of disgust and depression.

Handy, as a scientist focused on attention, still has questions about whether misophonia or misokinesia triggers affect our attention in an outsized way—if they're somehow telling the brain that those triggers are important, and need to be attended to. So far, Handy said, they haven't found any definite links to attention. Misokinesia sensitivity wasn’t related to being better able to ignore distractions in the peripheral vision, nor to paying attention to sudden events in their periphery.

While all of this is fodder for future research, Handy hopes that the immediate impact of their paper is that it helps people with misokinesia to feel validated if they're struggling and gives them a word to describe their reactions and tools to ask for accommodations or develop coping strategies. While there's currently no evidence for what treatment might work best for misokinesia, avoidance doesn’t work in the long term, Schröder said. Treatments that help misophonia, like cognitive behavioral therapy, could also be useful for misokinesia, but it will have to be tested in the future.

Schröder said that when he first started misophonia research in 2009, people with misophonia were relieved to finally have someone to listen to them and take their symptoms seriously. The same could be true for misokinesia.

It's tempting to hear about misophonia and misokinesia and think, "Isn't everyone annoyed by fidgeting and lounds chewing?" And while there is certainly a spectrum of how bothered people can be, on the extreme end of the spectrum, people can experience huge disruptions in their lives. The people Schröder works with can’t often eat with family members, or can’t work in offices with their colleagues.

“Being annoyed by other people’s behavior is a common thing,” Schröder said. “We can all experience that. However, in misophonia (and possibly misokinesia too) it’s more than that.”

On Allergic to Sound, a website that shares misophonia personal stories, one person wrote how misokinesia could interrupt something as basic as going to a movie with a friend—when said friend took a ring off his finger and began to play with it.

“He then raised it to his mouth and spent the rest of the film popping it in and out of his mouth. He did this silently and didn’t make any dramatic or disruptive movements, but to me it felt like my whole world was on red alert. All I could focus on was that irritating movement out of the corner of my eye. It was so bad that I can’t remember a single thing that happened in the film – I don’t even remember what the film was called. What I do remember, in painstaking detail, is every single minute little movement he made with his hands.”

Follow Shayla Love on Twitter.

If You Can’t Stand People Fidgeting, You May Have Misokinesia syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[lithium-lossr]

It’s been a while since I’ve posted but mostly because after the appointments I was exhausted for days on end and all energy accumulated was spent on my toddler. Finally though, after a long nap, I have mustered enough energy weeks later to update my little tag for myself before I forget anything.

So here’s an update for myself.

Last I posted was how anxious and frustrated I was with the American healthcare System since, without insurance, 15 years of my life was depending on 30 minutes.

When I went in for that appointment I ended up only having an EKG, not the orthostatic blood pressure I expected. Which is fine, just really shitty when travel time is north of three hours, but my doctor knew their EKG prices are FAR cheaper than my areas so no worries. This appointment was 12/31/19

The nurse on the other hand was rather condescending, I thought. Maybe it’s the autism not catching tones right but i dunno. Felt off. I expressed I knew the EKG procedure since I’ve had several in the past so she didn’t need to walk me through it. She broke terms down for me and I also explained she had no need since I have a strong history in human anatomy but also have had several friends & my own sister being nurses. TYPICALLY I have nurses feel relieved or kinda happy after explaining I don’t need them to baby step me. Normally allowing that knowledge be known opens to some great convos that don’t involved every single step they’re taking. I felt some of her finishing comments about me being a “good little ekg taker since I’ve had so many” basically felt invalidating. I’m sorry I didn’t have you explain the whole process out to me like I’m a newbie. That you didn’t have to remind me 100 times to stop moving or talking. Maybe THATS why you fucked up the wire order and put my calves on my arms & messed up the chest one with another. Because you didn’t talk yourself through it. But hey, who knows. I don’t.

Anyways,

My EKG came back and it showed enough for us to set up and orthostatic bp appointment.

I was unable to find the EKG Results on the portal but I’ve requested them and will be adding them to my tag to keep track of all this.

For my orthostatic bp appointment I thankfully had a much nicer nurse. She had me lay down and did me up with a cuff and finger pulse oximeter. My oxygen was 99% (not to brag or anything *debbie Ryan hair pushback meme* but it’s Rona SZN bb)

I just focused straight up & ahead. Throughout the whole lay, sit, stand transition she asked me questions on how I felt. Just like any day my symptoms were strong and immediately on sitting up my chest felt sharp and tight. Slightly light on my top half. More I had to support myself the worse I felt. Started to realize how much I support myself with walls, chairs, bars, anything to keep me from having to hold my own weight because this sucked. When I stood my heart kept hurting and my body felt light. My legs felt like they were literally draining. Like I honestly feel like I’m in some sort of Stephen King movie with how it felt the blood fall. Feet felt heavy.

The poor nurse sounded so concerned. Several times she asked if I was going to pass out and if I needed to sit then sit but I won’t lie. If it took me passing out I was prepared to because I’m SO TIRED of this debilitating BULLSHIT.

To give better context on results I’m about to drop (to anyone who actually might be reading this and care) on my orthostatic bp I am:

-24 years

-114 lbs (51.7kg)

- 5’7” (170cm)

My results (copy and pasted from the portal)

Orthostatic BP -

123 / 78 supine R arm adult cmchale1 01-12-2021

127 / 95 sitting R arm adult Abnormal cmchale1 01-12-2021

134 / 91 standing R arm adult Abnormal cmchale1 01-12-2021

Conclusion came to yes, it is POTS-

“Dr. R______ has reviewed your nurse visit and states: Her symptoms and vital signs are highly suggestive of POTS, or postural tachycardia syndrome. There are a variety of reasons this can happen, but the most common demographic is young, thin females. Often, nonpharmacologic treatments can be very effective. Specifically, high salt diet, aggressive fluids, and a daily exercise program with cardiovascular training (e.g. interval jogging - let me know if she needs more specifics). Also, doing things to increase venous return (squeezing the leg muscles a couple times) before standing up can be helpful. Sometimes, a beta-blocker like propranolol can be used as needed to help with high heart rates, but should only be used in the context of the behavioral strategies. I'm happy to send some in, if she doesn't get enough relief with the behavioral approaches! Let us know if you have further questions.”

Since dealing with this so long most of these things have already been in place. I’m a r/hydrohomie and even recently updated my bottle to a half gallon hydroJug since my quart was just useless. Always ALWAYS empty. I have a relatively salty diet but will be getting supplements to boost, I just don’t really know what to look at for SALT/sodium tablets. Like, the thought of them existing never crossed my mind until I read about sodium intake. As for working out I won’t lie, I chase a toddler (16m) around all day so I definitely TRY to get a nice workout in but I’m exhausted after them. In Maine we are below freezing temperatures and inside just don’t have much room so I try to hoop or do some palates or something to get my muscles working. I used to be such an avid walker when I lived in town. Even in the winter I’d just walk to the store. But now the closest store is 5 miles away on a busy road in tourist/farm land so needless today it’s isolating for someone who doesn’t drive. Even when the weather is nice I never NEVER HAD TO DEAL WITH T I C K S. Northern Maine doesn’t deal with that. I saw my first tick at 19 years old 50 miles from my hometown. So not even something I had to worry about hiking in the woods up north. But HERE. PEOPLE KEEP A COLLECTION TO SEE HOW MANY THE CATCH EXCUSE ME.

Ugh that’s a tangent and a half but 🤢🤮 ticks

Little fucking paracites.

As for the medication, I’m glad that wasn’t the first thing she pushed on me. I LOVE having a D.O. over an M.D. Idc. If I have a choice I will pick a D.O. EVEYTIME. My goal is to eventually be off all pharms, even if right now it’s only Zoloft. After I stop breastfeeding I’m to add lithium back at a low dose and that’s just so much maintenance. Labs, med management, MORE refills. Adjustments. Sigh.

Adding also for anyone who does actuall read. I KNOW a cardiologist is who can properly diagnose me and help me more effectively than a D.O PCP. My pcp is literally just worried about my heart and that it was ignored so long. She also knows I have no private insurance and her office doesn’t take state. She’s worked with me in the most amazing ways to get me the best care for the CHEAPEST.

Her original plan was to have a holter monitor for 24hrs & ekg and go from there. I wasn’t able to get a holter to rent so unfortunately we had to relay on my Fitbit but I also got an finger pulse oximeter to track my symptoms especially when I felt them. I was suggest to also get a BP cuff but baby steps. I plan on ordering an electric arm bp when I can.

I had my EKG which clearly showed a need for a Ortho BP.

My overall plan was at LEAST get it addressed and in my records for when I eventually DO have to change PCPs for what ever insurance I can scramble up. That way my new pcp can see and maybe I can get in with a real cardiologist.

I’m just so damn grateful that my doctor listen to me. I love receptive doctors. Thank you Dr. R for being a Queen and not ignoring how I have to live and feel based on the words “I pass out randomly.” You gave your thoughts, I CHALLENGED them and you listened. Thank you. Thank you for not having a fragile ego and working on this together.