#she just came from the hospital those prescriptions were with her when her iv got pulled out and it splattered blood

[sundaytragedy]

My reaction to a paper prescription with snot on it: EEWWWW

My reaction to the ones with blood splatter on it: Wow cool...what happened, oh noo, no worries at all, we'll still take them

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Got You, Babe ~ T.H

chapter six: home again

series masterlist

Tom practically ran down the hospital hallway and followed the nurse to your room. When he walked through the door, he saw you lying in a hospital bed with several machines hooked up to you. He immediately rushed to your side and dropped to his knees beside your bed.

“Darling. Oh my God.” He slipped his hand into yours and kissed it. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m okay.” You smiled weakly. “I’m just a little banged up. I tripped down the stairs of my apartment.”

“You did? I hate those stairs. They’re too steep. This is my fault. I should’ve been there.” He frowned and kissed your hand again. “I’m so sorry about our fight. We don’t have to move anywhere.”

“We can talk about all of it later, okay? I’m just glad you came.” You said as you squeezed his hand.

“Of course I did. I came as soon as you called. Is the baby okay?”

“I’m not sure. The doctor ran some tests but she hasn’t come back in yet.” You gulped as your eyes drifted over to the many machines you were hooked up to. You had an IV in and two different heart monitors, one of you and one for the baby. Tom looked at the machines and gave you a smile so you wouldn’t worry.

“Tom, what do you do if….” You trailed off and looked at him with terror in your eyes. You didn’t have to say it, he knew what you were thinking.

“Shhh.” He shook his head. “Don’t think about that. The baby is fine.”

“What if she’s not?” You teared up. “I landed on my hip but who knows?”

“I know.” He said firmly. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we had a one in a million chance of making this baby. Nobody gets pregnant from a one night stand, but we did. We were destined to have a baby together. I know we were.”

“What if this is the universes cruel way of punishing us for being apart?” You gulped. “I haven’t called you on 4 weeks. I didn’t stick by your side like I promised I would. This could be my reckoning.”

“Hey.” He smiled softly and cupped your chin as you started to cry. “I love you, okay darling? Nothing changes that. Even if, God forbid, something happens to this baby. We will still be a family and I will still be by your side. I promise.”

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks and you found yourself speechless. You nodded to let Tom know you heard him and pressed your forehead again his. The doctor came in suddenly and you both sat up.

“Oh, good. Dads here.” The doctor said as she shut the door behind her.

“Is everything okay?” Tom asked. “How’s the baby?”

“Relax. Your baby is fine.” The doctor assured you. “The heartbeat is regular, you haven’t had any contractions, and the placenta is still attached. Falls are scary but this was minor. You got lucky. You don’t have to worry.”

“Are you sure?” You didn’t relax yet. “I was bleeding.”

“That was just some spotting.” She shrugged. “It’s normal. Nothing to worry about.”

“Thank God.” You sighed in relief. “I was so scared.”

“Don’t be. Clumsiness is normal for the third trimester. Take a look. You have a healthy baby girl in there.” The doctor pointed to the screen as she pressed the wand to your bump. You and Tom looked at your baby and immediately felt the tension leave your bodies. Tom kissed your shoulder before resting his head down on it.

“Look at her.” He sighed. “She’s beautiful. Beautiful and strong just like her mom.”

“No. She’s evil. How could you scare me like that? All I’ve done is keep you warm and safe and this is how you repay me?” You playfully scolded your bump.

“We should go home and get some rest. You’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Tom said as he stroked your hair.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after this.” You admitted as the doctor unhooked you from the machines.

“I figured. Your heart rates still a little high so I’m prescribing some medication to help with your anxiety. Take one tonight. It should help you fall asleep.“ The doctor said as she wrote something down on a prescription pad.

“Thank you. For everything.” Tom said and took the prescription. He wheeled you out of the hospital in a wheelchair, despite your many protests. You stopped by the pharmacy to pick up your prescription before driving to your apartment. When you walked into your bedroom, Tom noticed Infinity War was paused on your TV.

“You were watching my movie?“ He said softly and looked over at you. It made him feel good to know that you were still supporting him even when you were fighting.

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “I wanted to see what you could do.”

“What did you think?” He asked coyly, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“I still don’t like superhero movies. But I think you’re really talented.” You said as you walked over to him. He put his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them up and down before touching his forehead to yours.

“Thank you. So are you. You’re an incredible baker. I never should’ve said that you should give up your career. Your work is just as important as mine.”

“Thank you for saying that.” You smiled softly. “I’m glad you came around. Having a bakery is non negotiable for me.”

“I understand. Of course.”

“But being with you is also a non negotiable.” You continued, making him smile. “And I guess the location doesn’t really matter. I could open a bakery in London and let Leo run the one here. They’ve been doing a really good job lately. I think they could handle it.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Tom encouraged you. “Leo would be a fantastic business owner.”

“You were right about a lot of things.” You admitted. “Moving to London is the most obvious choice for us. It makes perfect sense. I shouldn’t have fought you on it. I was just scared.”

“Scared of what?” He wondered.

“My whole life is about to change once this baby is born. And if I sell my apartment and my bakery, I won’t have any pieces of my old life left.” You smiled sadly. “I guess I wasn’t ready to give it all up yet. But I am now. I’m a mother now, and I have to do what’s best for my daughter.”

“Are you sure?“ Tom asked. “I don’t want you to have to give up anything for me. Especially not your home.”

“I’m sure.” You nodded. “I want our daughter to grow up close to her family. It’s not like my family is gonna be there for her.”

“I never should’ve said anything about your family.” He sighed. “It wasn’t my place. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I want to be where your family is because they’re gonna love and support the shit out of this kid. That’s all I could ever want for our daughter. Hell, that’s all I ever wanted for myself.”

“I love and support the shit out of you.” Tom smiled and cupped your chin.

“You do? Still?”

“Always.” He promised. “My love isn’t conditional. No matter what we do or say to each other, I will always love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back before putting his hands on your face to deepen the kiss. It had been weeks since he kissed you last and he seriously missed you.

“Let’s never fight again.” He said when he pulled away.

“I love you, but we are 100% going to fight again.” You chuckled and kissed his face a few times.

“Yeah. Let’s just pretend we won’t fight again for tonight.”

“Sounds good to me, love.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again.

“You’ve had a long day. Let’s go to bed.” He said and took your hand. You both changed into pajamas and got into your bed. Tom bought you a bed frame early in the relationship, insisted that sleeping on a floor mattress could not be good for the baby. You laid in bed together with your head on his shoulder and caught up on the last few weeks of your life.

“Would you still love me if I wasn’t having your baby?” You wondered as you traced patterns on his chest.

“Yes. I’m sure of it.” He said as he looked at you. “I liked you from the moment we met. And I loved you as soon as I got to know you. I think we would’ve been together even if I used protection that night.”

“How romantic.” You furrowed your eyebrows and laughed.

“You know what? Let’s get a place in New York.” He decided. “I’m here all the time for work anyway. We can get a big apartment with lots of space for our daughter to play. And you can stay there when you’re feeling homesick.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully.

“Really.” He nodded. “Your needs as just as important as mine. If New York is important to you, then it’s important to me too.”

“Thank you.” You put a hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. “I really appreciate that. And so will our daughter when she has her first taste of New York candied peanuts.”

“You know, we should probably start thinking about names.” He said and tucked your hair behind your ear. “We can’t call her “our daughter” forever. Do you have any that you like?”

“I really like the idea of naming her after a song.” You told him. “When I was a little girl, I always wished there was a song with my name in it so I could pretend was about me. And I want our daughter to have something in the media that will always remind her of herself.”

“That could be cute.” He nodded. “Give me some examples.”

“Lots of songs mention girls names. There’s Delilah, Eileen, Roxanne, Beth, Rosemary, Betty Caroline, Georgia Rose, to name a few.”

“What song is Georgia Rose from?” Tom wondered.

“Best Song Ever by One Direction.”

“Oh. I never really listened to One Direction. What’s the song called?”

“Best Song Ever.” You said again.

“No I know it’s their best song, but what’s it called?”

“Best Song Ever.” You repeated and looked at him strangely.

“Yes. I understand.” He smiled tightly. “But which song is their best song ever?”

“I already told you! The title of the song is Best Song Ever.” You shouted.

“We said no more fighting!” He shouted back.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face and let out a laugh. Tom laughed as well and pulled you closer to kiss your head.

“We could name her Stacy.” He suggested. “And then you could fulfill your childhood dream of having a song about you.”

“How so?”

“Stacy’s mom has got it going on.” He sang softly, making you laugh.

“Aw. That’s a cute idea.” You smiled. “Oh! Jolene. That’s another one.”

“Doesn’t Jolene kinda have a bad reputation? She stole Dolly’s man.” Tom reminded you.

“It’s never confirmed whether Jolene took her man or not.” You shrugged. “All we know is that she could’ve taken Dolly’s man. Maybe she heard the song and decided not to take him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I listen to it.” He chuckled before looking over at the dresser. “Oh, here. The anxiety medication.”

“Thanks. Do you have any names you want to add to the list?” You asked as you took the medication.

“I don’t know. I just like alliteration. If we’re giving her my last name, an “h” name might be cute.” He suggested.

“Don’t you like Harry Potter? We could name her Hagrid.”

“We’re not naming our baby girl Hagrid.”

“But we can’t name her Harry. You already have a brother named Harry.” You pointed out.

“That wasn’t the issue.”

“Hospital.” You snapped your fingers. “We could name her Hospital Holland. It’s an homage to where she’ll be born.”

“I think the medication is kicking in.” Tom realized. “That stuff works fast.”

“Huckleberry.” You continued. “Aw. That’s such a pretty name.”

“It’s just not.”

“I’m putting it on the list.” You typed it onto the list on your phone. “What else? Hereditary, hollandaise, hot sauce, Highway to Hell, Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Okay. I think it’s time for bed.” He took your phone and set it down on the dresser.

“HBO Max sign in. That begins with an “h”. That could be cute. I bet no one else in her class will have that name.” You continued to list off.

“I’m sure they won’t, darling. And neither will she. How do you turn this thing off?” He pointed the remote at your TV to turn it off. He hit a button and accidentally changed the channel to Modern Family.

“I love this show.” You gasped and grabbed his arm. “It’s my favorite show.”

“I like it too.” He smiled. “I haven’t seen it in a while.”

“My sister and I used to watch it together all the time. The Dunphy sisters reminded us of our relationship.” You said as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Who was who?” He asked you.

“She was Haley. I was Alex. We used to call each other that as nicknames. Nobody understood why except for us.” You smiled at the memory as you watched the TV. Your smile fell suddenly as your eyes glazed over.

“I miss my Haley.” You whispered. Tom turned and looked at you, unsure of how to navigate this situation. You rarely opened up about your family so to hear you be vulnerable about it made him determined not to drop the ball. An idea came to him suddenly and he sat up straight.

“Haley’s Comet.” He gasped.

“What?”

“I know it’s not a song, but it’s still a part of popular media. We could name her after Haley’s Comet.”

“Why would we name her after Haley’s Comet?”

“Think about it. If the comets orbital path is once every 75 years, seeing it is a once in a lifetime experience. Well, I think conceiving this baby after meeting one time was a one in a lifetime experience for us. The way we came together as a family is rare. And so is Haley’s Comet.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. “Our story is pretty unique to us.”

“Exactly. And when Haley’s Comet comes back to earth one day while the whole talks about how excited they are to see it, she’ll feel special and know that she’s just as rare as that comet. Plus, it reminds you of your sister and your favorite show.” He explained as he pointed to the TV.

“Haley?” You cracked a smile. “Haley Holland?”

“Haley Holland.” He nodded, liking the way it rolled off his tongue.

“And it’s alliteration.” You realized. “Like you wanted.”

“Did we just name our kid? In like ten minutes?”

“I think we did. Did we name you, Haley?” You asked as you rubbed your bump. Tom put his hand on your bump and felt a kick.

“She kicked me.” You gasped. “That either means she’s excited about her name or she hates it and wanted revenge.”

“I think she liked it. Didn’t you, baby girl?” Tom asked the bump. The baby kicked you again and you and Tom shared a smile.

“It’s not just gonna be the two of us for much longer.” Tom said softly. “Haley’s gonna be here in like three months.”

“I know. We need to get started on her nursery.”

“Yeah.” Tom smiled tightly. “About that.”

“Ta da.” He said weakly as he showed you what he did to his guest room. It was a few days after your hospital visit and you’d flown back to London, where you planned to stay for the remainder of your pregnancy. Your jaw dropped as you took a step into the former guest room. In the time since you’d last been there, Tom turned the guest room into a nursery. The walls had been painted pink and there were daisies painted around the rim of the room.

“Woah. You did all of this?” You asked as you touched the white crib in the corner.

“Before you touch anything, nothing was built properly.” Tom admitted. “Harry helped me assemble it and he’s a box of rocks.”

“Did you paint these?” You pointed to the daisies with a smile.

“The boys helped me. We didn’t open a window when we were painting and Harrison slept for like 17 hours straight afterwards.”

You laughed and continued to look around the room. He had a poorly assembled bookshelf with baby books already lined up. On top of a lopsided dresser was a picture of you and Tom from the night you met. He watched you as you looked around the room, trying to gage your reaction.

“We can finish the rest together.” He offered. “I’m sorry I did so much without you. I didn’t know what to do with myself when we weren’t talking. I threw myself into the nursery to remind myself you’d have to talk to me eventually.”

“Oh, Tom.” You smiled sympathetically.

“Are you mad? I know we planned on doing this together.”

“No. I’m not mad.” You walked over to him and cupped his face. “I love it. I love all of it. You did a great job.”

“Really?“ He asked and put his hands over yours.

“Really. And I’d love to finish it together. And by together, I mean I’ll sit in that rocking chair and tell you what to do.”

“Sounds good to me, love.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back for a long time before resting your foreheads together.

“I really missed you.” He said softly.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“It was all my fault.” He shook his head. “I lost my cool on you and it was totally unacceptable. I can’t believe I called you a bitch. I’ve never done that before. And I promise, I’ll never do it again. I called my mom and told her what I said and she drove straight to my house to hit me with a magazine.”

“And that is a perfectly valid reaction. But you can’t take all the blame. I was being unreasonable. You were right for us to move here. Look at this place.” You gestured to the room. “It’s perfect. Haley’s gonna love it here.”

“I hope so.” He nodded. “I’m just glad we’re a family again.”

“Me too, Tommy. Me too.”

“Come take a ride with me.” He squeezed your hands. “I have something else I need to show you.”

“Okay.” You looked at him skeptically and let him lead you out of the room. He drove you to a nearby vacant space and let you in the door.

“Wow. This place is huge.” You commented as you walked through the space.

“Yeah. I figured you’d need more space now that you’re so popular.”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. Tom smiled sheepishly and went over to the register. He took a small black box with a red bow out from under the register and handed it to you. When you opened it, you found a deed to the property and a key.

“It’s yours. Surprise.” He smiled weakly as he waited for your reaction.

“Oh my gosh.” You covered your mouth with your hand. “Tom, are you serious? You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes I did. I squashed your dreams when I should’ve been encouraging them. A baker as amazing as you needs a bakery. You shouldn’t have to put your dreams on hold for anything.”

“But the baby is coming so soon. Who’s gonna run the place until I’m ready to come back?”

“My brother Sam offered to take over for a while.” Tom told you. “He said he’s gonna need a few lessons from you, though.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me. This is gonna be amazing. Thank you so much.” You put the box down before pulling him into a hug.

“You’re welcome, darling. But there’s one more surprise.” He pulled away and went over to the refrigerator.

“Tom, you’ve already given me so much. What else could you have possibly done?” You asked him. He pulled a platter with a silver dome on top of it out of the refrigerator and brought it over to you.

“Ta da.” He took the dome off. “I came over here and baked them while you were napping before.”

“You made cupcakes?” You gasped when he revealed what was underneath.

“Yep. They’re red velvet.” He nodded proudly. “I wanted you to be the first to eat a baked good in this bakery.”

“They look beautiful. Good job, honey.” You cupped his chin before taking a cupcake.

“Thank you. Cheers.” He clinked his cupcake against yours before you both took a bite. You chewed for a few minutes before both your faces contorted in disgust.

“Oh my God. This is disgusting.” You cringed as you swallowed.

“That is completely inedible.” Tom agreed and put the cupcake down. “I thought I could make them from memory but I guess I wasn’t really paying attention when you made them. I was distracted. You’re really pretty.”

“You’re so cute. But why didn’t you Google a recipe?” You laughed and set your cupcake down.

“I didn’t think of that. Never leave me again.” He sighed. “I can’t make it without you. Look at what happens when you’re gone.”

“I appreciate the effort. But I think you should leave the baking to me, lover.” You smiled and took a swipe of the frosting to put it on his nose.

“I can do that.” He laughed and put some frosting on your nose in return. He cupped your face and kissed the frosting off the tip of your nose.

You stayed in London the next few weeks as you got closer to your due date. Leo ran the bakery in New York so you could focus on yourself and the baby. You were fully moved in to Tom’s home in London now and spent your days living as functioning couple. You sat in the rocking chair in the nursery one day, reading baby books as Tom rebuilt the crib.

“Does this go in here?” Tom asked as he held up two pieces of the crib. You looked up from the book and nodded.

“Should we have been playing her Mozart?” You asked as you skimmed a page.

“This does not seems structurally sound.” He mumbled and wobbled the crib.

“This book doesn’t say anything about ferberzing.”

“That book?” Tom looked up. “Yeah it does. Chapter 17. Towards the middle.”

“Wow. You had that memorized.” You smirked. “I’m surprised you knew what ferberizing was.”

“Oh, you mean the Ferber Method?” Tom asked suavely. “Also known as teaching your child to self soothe by letting them cry it out at night. I know all about that, darling. I’ve read all those books cover to cover at least three times now. It was the hardest I ever studied for anything in my life. And the most books I ever read.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” You whined through a chuckle. “I have to pee.”

“So go pee.” He said as he tightened the screws of the crib.

“It takes so much effort to move.” You groaned. “And I’m so comfortable.”

“I’d offer to carry you but I think it would make us both feel bad about ourselves when we inevitably find out that I cannot pick you up.”

“Stop making me laugh.” You laughed and chuckled a stuffed animal at him.

“I can’t help it. You’re dating a comedian.” He shrugged. “The baby is gonna come out with natural comedic timing, just like her daddy. She’ll be straight out of the womb like “what’s the deal with baby food?” and it’s gonna bring the delivery room to tears.”

“What comedian sounds like that?” You laughed again. “Tell me.”

“All of them.” Tom said quietly.

“Oh yeah? Name one comedian.” You challenged him.

“My dad.” Tom scoffed.

“He doesn’t count.” You giggled. “I knew you couldn’t name one.”

“Yes I can.” He whined. “What’s that American guys name? Jimmy?”

“Who’s Jimmy?” You laughed harder.

“You know Jimmy.” He insisted. “He has a TV show. They’re always drinking coffee on it.”

“Jimmy Fallon?”

“No.” Tom waved his hand. “Not like a host. He’s a stand up comedian and his name is Jimmy.”

“I don’t think he’s real.” You shook your head. “I think you made Jimmy up to win this argument.”

“Jimmy is real.” Tom insisted. “I am a Jimmy truther. He exists. I know he does.”

“Then what does this Jimmy look like?” You asked him.

“He is white. And a man.”

“Oh, he’s a white man who does standup comedy?” You laughed. “Why didn’t you say so? That narrows it down.”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain Jimmy to you. The girls who get it get it and the girls who don’t, don’t.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you talking about Jerry Seinfeld?” You realized.

“I have never heard that name in my life.”

“This man?” You pulled up a picture on your phone and showed Tom.

“Jimmy!” Tom lit up when he saw the picture. “See. I could name a comedian. I win.”

“You didn’t know his name and couldn’t tell me a single thing about him.” You pointed out.

“Yeah well. Shut up.” He mumbled, making you laugh even harder.

“You have the giggles tonight.” Tom smiled as you got out of the rocking chair. You felt a sharp pain suddenly and rubbed your bump. The pain went away so you brushed it off.

“I know.” You snorted. “It’s your fault. You keep making me laugh.”

“Aw. Poor you. Having a loving boyfriend who makes you laugh? That must be really difficult for you.” Tom said sarcastically. You laughed at his tone but stopped suddenly when you you felt a wetness between your legs.

“Oh God. I think I peed myself. Why did I wear a dress today?” You whined and looked down. Tom looked over at you and saw a small pool of water on the ground beneath you.

“Darling, I think you peed the entire house.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “That sounded like a bucket of water being poured out. How long have you been holding that in?”

“Tom, I don’t think that’s pee.” You said as you stared at the puddle you had made.

“Um, it’s liquid that just gooshed out of your cooch. I think pee is the only option here.”

“It doesn’t look like pee.” You pointed out. “And it didn’t feel like pee when it came out of me. And don’t say cooch.”

“Then what else could it have been?” He frowned. “Bottled up tears?”

“It wasn’t tears, dummy.” You laughed. “I think my water just broke.”

“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes. “And I’m Jimmy Seinfeld.”

“No, Tom. I’m serious. I think my water broke.”

“Wait, what?” He quickly got off the floor. “If your water broke, does that mean…”

“Yeah, Tom.” You gulped. “The baby’s coming.”

Tag list 🏷

@sarbear94​ @levanamareriddle​ @gwenstcay​ @angie1djonasgg​ @white-wolf1940​ @whore4thor-odinson​ @spideyywife​ @yeswhatever33​ @blankspaceblankday​ @amnaabedi​ @elizabethraymond​ @daydreamingchaos713​ @eatshitanddie-​ @tothemoonandbackx3000​ @prancerrparkerr​ @sunshinehollandd​ @scenesofobx​ @wandamaximoffbae​ @qardasngan​ @sebbybucky12​ @quinnjackluke​ @simplyparker​

[buoyantsaturn]

Riding Bikes Across the Street Without Looking Either Way (2/2)

summary: “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

word count: 3,955

read on ao3 | read chapter one

Nico hadn’t slept in three days by the time he arrived at Percy’s apartment late at night, around two days after he’d left home. He’d barely stopped along the way, so when Annabeth opened the door for him, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. (At this point, Nico felt like he might as well be one.) 

“Oh my god,” Annabeth said as she grabbed Nico’s shoulder to pull him inside, drawing him straight into a hug. “Neeks, you look like shit. Are you-- Are you bleeding?”

Nico refrained from reaching up to check his head, and looked to the side in an attempt to stop Annabeth from looking too closely, though she took his face in her hands and turned his head back the other way. “I’m fine,” Nico muttered when Annabeth gasped. 

“You are not,” she argued. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“I just drove for two days, I don’t wanna drive anymore,” Nico told her. “Can’t I sleep first?” 

“Oh, you are not driving like this,” Annabeth said as she started further into the apartment. “You probably shouldn’t have driven in the first place! Wait here. Percy just put Luke down for the night, but he’ll take you.” 

Then Annabeth disappeared around the corner, so Nico stood in the doorway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. He let his eyes fall shut and his head tip forward, and just about fell asleep standing up until his body started to lean, and he startled awake to catch himself. When he opened his eyes, Percy was there with his coat in hand and concern written across his face. 

Nico blinked up at him, and Percy seemed to take that as his invitation to draw Nico in for a hug. Nico flinched back when Percy got too close to the wound on the side of his head, so Percy jumped back like he’d been shocked. “Dude,” Percy whispered, his eyes full of something like pity that made Nico’s stomach turn. Percy pulled on his coat and held out a hand. “Alright, give me your keys.” 

For a second, Nico didn’t move. He wanted to argue, to say he was too tired and that they could just go in the morning, but he didn’t want to get hit again. (Percy wouldn’t hit him, would he?) Nico took the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Percy’s hand. 

They walked down to the road and got into Nico’s car. It wasn’t until they were a few minutes down the road that Percy tried asking what happened, though Nico wasn’t very willing to share. He hadn’t told Percy much more than things have gotten worse and I’m coming to New York, so he was sure that Percy was more worried for him than he was letting on. Percy’s mind was probably reeling over all the different things that might have happened to leave Nico in such a state, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

He let Percy guess, though he never got very specific. Percy had narrowed it down to Hades and drinking, though Nico knew those weren’t hard to figure out. 

When they sat down in the hospital’s waiting room, Percy finally said, “You know you’ll have to tell the doctor what happened, right? I mean, maybe they can help you, like, file a police report or something.” 

Nico was shaking his head before Percy had even finished talking. “I don’t want to file a report,” he insisted. “I don’t… I don’t wanna think about it anymore, and I don’t want him to know where I am.”

“Oh. Right, of course,” Percy said quietly, then wrapped an arm around Nico’s shoulders to bring him into a side-hug. “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

“Thanks,” Nico whispered, and his head fell onto Percy’s shoulder. “Um, and can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“When we get back to your place, can you call Seph? Just to let her know I got here safely, but...don’t say where I am. And then delete her number. Maybe block it, too.” 

Percy rubbed his arm. “Yeah, man, I can do that.” 

A moment later, Nico’s name was called, and he tensed. “Will you come back with me?” he asked Percy as he got to his feet, and Percy nodded. A nurse took them into the emergency room and had Nico sit on one of the beds to wait for the doctor.

Another minute or two passed before a man with curly brown hair and a lab coat approached and said, “Hi there, Mr. di Angelo. I’m Doctor Markowitz, and I’ll be taking care of your examination before my supervisor comes over. It says on your form here that you have a head injury, do you want to tell me a little more about that while I take a look?” 

Nico ducked his head and shrugged. Markowitz glanced toward Percy, who said, “He doesn’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay, noted,” Markowitz said as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He stepped up to Nico’s side and located the wound quickly, carefully brushing away Nico’s hair to get a better look at it. “Can you at least tell me what made the wound?” 

“A glass bottle,” Nico muttered, and averted his gaze when Percy’s eyes widened. 

“Glass?” Markowitz repeated, then took a closer look. “Well, it doesn’t look like there’s any broken pieces in here, so that’s good.” 

“The bottle didn’t break,” Nico replied. “I don’t think.” 

“Must’ve been one heavy-duty bottle to hit you this hard and not break,” Markowitz commented, and Nico suppressed a flinch. “Alright, hang tight for just a minute while I call my supervisor over. I’m thinking you’re going to need a CT scan to rule out a concussion, and possibly an X-ray to make sure your skull is all in one piece. I’ll be right back.” 

As soon as the doctor was out of sight, Percy turned to Nico and asked, “He hit you with a glass bottle?”

Nico folded his arms over his stomach, one hand wrapping around his other arm. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have time to, either, before Percy’s phone started to ring. 

“It’s Annabeth,” he said, “probably just checking in. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

And then Percy was gone, too, and Nico’s hand gripped tighter. He could hear Percy at first, answering the call and saying that they’d already talked to a doctor, but then his voice dropped lower and Nico had to strain to hear it. 

“He’s not acting like himself,” Percy whispered. “It’s like he’s fifteen again, he’s barely even talking to me.” A pause, and then, “Can that happen? Can something like this make him, like, regress, or whatever?” Nico’s fingernails began clawing at his skin. “Oh, the doctor’s coming back. I’ll let you know what’s up as soon as I can.” 

On top of a moderate concussion, Nico had a skull fracture, was severely dehydrated, and had reached the point of exhaustion that the doctors were surprised to still see him upright. Nico declined an IV drip of fluids and something that would help him sleep, insisting that he just wanted to leave, so Percy drove him home with a prescription that basically boiled down to rest. 

Nico passed out on the couch as soon as they were inside, and didn’t wake for almost twenty hours. When he did finally awaken, he got up to find Annabeth in the kitchen making dinner. 

“Hey, Neeks,” she said as she stirred a pot of pasta. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” he replied, folding his arms across his stomach and eying the stove. “Can I help?” 

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

“I just did.” Nico’s nose scrunched up at the idea of sitting on that couch any longer. “I’m rested. So, can I help?” 

“Why don’t you see if you can help Percy with Luke, instead?” 

Nico hesitated. “But I like cooking.” 

“Do you like babies?” 

“I...don’t know.” 

“Well, if you’re going to be staying with us for a little while, then I’d like to know that you’re comfortable around my son,” Annabeth told him. “You never know, I might ask you to babysit. So, go hang out with Luke, and I’ll shout for everyone when this is ready.” 

Nico huffed and said, “Fine,” then turned out of the kitchen. Before he could fully leave, though, he stopped himself and said, “Actually, um. After dinner, do you think you could help me with something?” 

“Maybe,” she replied, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What is it?” 

“I need to change my phone number.” 

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah, we’ll figure that out.” 

As it turned out, Nico got along with Luke just fine. It was almost easier than hanging out with adults, he realized, because he didn’t feel the need to try to hold a conversation. Luke could only say a handful of words, anyway. Nico spent a good half hour just holding blocks whenever Luke gave them to him. 

As dinner came and went, Nico learned what sorts of things Luke could and couldn’t eat, and then later on watched how to go about putting Luke to sleep at night. Apparently parenting was easier than people made it seem. How had Hades messed up so bad?

When the living room was once again baby-free, Annabeth sat down with Nico to help him figure out how to change his phone number. Percy was laying across the floor for some reason, and had been asking Nico about college in an attempt to get his mind off of running away from home. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really something Nico wanted to talk about, either. 

“So, do you need to, like, transfer to a new school or something?” Percy asked as he tossed one of Luke’s toys into the air above him. “You know, since you can’t go to class.” 

“It’s all online,” Nico replied. He was watching Annabeth work from the opposite end of the couch because the brightness of his phone screen hurt his head. “I talked to somebody at NYU last summer about doing all online classes.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to do that?” Annabeth asked. “You can’t even look at your phone long enough to see who’s texting you.”

“And that doctor said you need to avoid screens for at least a week, didn’t he?” Percy added. 

Nico felt his heart rate rise as his anxiety spiked again. “Well, what day is it?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands were. “Maybe I’ll have time to rest before my classes start.” 

“It’s Wednesday, the…” Percy drew out the last word as he pulled out his phone, “...sixth. When do your classes start?” 

Nico dropped his head into his hands. “Two days ago.” 

“Okay, no big deal,” Annabeth said without raising her eyes from her laptop screen. “Just email your professors to explain the problem, and ask for an extension on anything you missed.” 

“But I won’t be able to do anything for another week, and at that point, I’ll be two weeks behind in, like, half of my classes,” Nico complained, scrubbing his hands over his face and then scraping his hair back from his face. “And then what if I can’t catch up? Maybe I should just take the semester off.”

“Alright, take a breath.” Annabeth reached over and set a hand on Nico’s arm, but he flinched out from under the touch. “I think you should sleep on it. There’s no need to make such an impulsive decision.” 

Nico pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his gaze to the floor. “No. It’s better if I drop the classes now instead of having to withdraw later. I’ll just start up again in the fall.” 

He glanced up again just in time to see Annabeth and Percy sharing a worried look. He grabbed onto his arm and squeezed. 

The apartment was too small for three adults. Maybe if Nico hadn’t had to sleep on the couch, then he would’ve been less of an inconvenience to Percy and Annabeth. He tried to make up for it in other ways. He cooked whenever he could, and he washed the dishes every night. Nico was trusted enough to look after Luke on his own for short periods of time - if Percy needed to run out to the store while Annabeth was in class or at work, usually. 

Still, Nico was in the way. He hadn’t quite assimilated into their home, and he’d heard them whispering late at night when they all should have been asleep that money was tight. 

Things came to a head when Nico finished off a pot of coffee one morning, assuming that the others had gotten their share. He was feeding Luke so that Annabeth could get out the door in time for class when Percy stumbled into the kitchen, half-awake and already grumpy. He grabbed a mug out of the cabinet before reaching for the empty pot and freezing at the sight.

He slammed the pot back into place, and Nico flinched.

“Damn it, Nico, did you drink all the coffee?” Percy snapped.

Nico sunk in his seat, hoping to appear as small as possible. He watched Percy pick up his mug again, and imagined it shattering against his skull. He wound his arms around his stomach and ducked his head. 

“The least you could do is make another pot,” Percy continued. “God.”

“Sorry.” Nico pushed his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor and making him flinch again. “Sorry.” He was up on his feet one second, and then he blinked, and he was in the living room. He could hear his pulse in his ears. His head darted back and forth, but there was nowhere to hide. 

Oh god, why wasn’t there anywhere to hide? 

He couldn’t hide in the bathroom, because Annabeth was in there. He couldn’t hide in either bedroom, because the doors didn’t have locks. 

He went into Luke’s room anyway. Nico figured he would have a better chance at hiding underneath the crib then he would Percy’s bed. And then, when he shut the door behind himself, he saw the window. 

The fire escape.

Nico pulled the curtains loose and climbed out the window before sliding it shut. He heard Percy shouting for him as he sat down on the nearest step. He almost got up and ran down the fire escape just to make sure he wouldn’t get hit. Instead, he stayed perfectly still to ensure that the creaking of the fire escape wouldn’t give him away. 

He only wished he’d brought a jacket.

Nico was blowing on his fingers to keep them warm when the window slid open. He must have already been frozen to the step, or maybe it was the panic that kept him from jumping up and running away. 

“Nico,” Annabeth breathed with a sigh of relief. She held a hand out to him. “What the hell are you doing out here? Get inside, it’s freezing!” 

Nico hesitated. “Is...Percy gone?” 

Annabeth frowned, waving her hand impatiently. “What are you talking about? Why would he be gone?”

Nico stuffed his hands under his arms and ducked his head. Of course Percy wouldn’t be gone. He lived there. It was Nico that was always going to have to run away.

“Do you need him to be gone?” Annabeth asked gently. 

Nico shrugged. 

Annabeth sighed, and Nico tensed. She sounded annoyed. “Alright, don’t move.” 

Then she shut the window. Maybe she locked it, too, so that Nico wouldn’t be able to get back inside. He would freeze to death out there, and he could finally stop being everybody’s problem. 

The window opened again, and Annabeth poked her head out. “I told him to back off. He won’t come into Luke’s room while we’re in here, so would you please come back inside?” She held her hand out to him again, and this time, Nico took it. Her hand was unnaturally warm, or maybe he had let himself get colder than he thought. 

Nico’s bare feet touched the carpet and he immediately dropped to the floor while Annabeth shut the window behind him. She wrapped him up in a blanket and wound her arms around his shoulders. “Tell me what happened, Nico.” 

“I…” His teeth started chattering. Why was he shivering now that he was back in the warmth? “I drank the last of the coffee. I thought Percy already had some.”

“So your solution was the freeze to death in repentance?” 

“He was mad,” Nico whispered, his arms tightening around his knees. “I thought he was gonna hit me.” 

“Nico,” Annabeth said, her voice stern but not harsh, “you know Percy would never hit you. He loves you.” 

“I thought my dad loved me.” 

Annabeth pressed her forehead to the top of Nico’s head. “Neeks, this isn’t working out.” 

Nico’s next breath caught in his throat, and he felt his eyes sting with the beginnings of tears. 

Annabeth started rubbing his back. “I know we said that you could stay here as long as you need, but… Nico, this place isn’t big enough for all of us, and Percy and I… Our money is spread so thin already that we’re constantly stressed about paying the bills on time, and having you here too… We can’t walk on eggshells in our own home. I’m sorry, Nico. We love you, and we’re not kicking you out, but we need to start looking for another option for you. And maybe a therapist, too.” 

Nico dropped his head onto his knees as his tears started to fall. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m messing everything up. I never should’ve come here, I’m sorry.” 

“No, Nico, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Annabeth assured him. “And I’m glad you came here and got away from your dad. I’m glad you’re safe. And I’m sorry that Percy’s such an ass when he doesn’t get his coffee right away. I should’ve warned you about that.” 

“Not your fault,” Nico muttered.

Annabeth patted his shoulder. “Not yours, either. Are you gonna be okay?” 

Nico hesitated, then nodded. 

“Do you think you’re ready to talk to Percy?” she asked. “I think he’d like to apologize.” 

“Yeah,” Nico said, still nodding. “I’m ready.” 

Annabeth stood, then offered a hand to help Nico to his feet. She led the way out of the room and toward the living room where Percy was sitting on the floor with Luke, and as soon as Percy saw them, he jumped to his feet. 

“Nico!” Percy exclaimed, rushing forward with his arms held out, though he froze when he saw Nico flinch. Percy glanced at Annabeth, his expression wavering and his arms drooping slightly before he asked, “Um, can I hug you?” 

Nico took a step closer and nodded. Percy’s arms closed around him. 

“Dude, you had me so freaked out,” Percy said into Nico’s hair. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I’ll try not to do it again, I promise.” 

“Thanks,” Nico replied, shifting subtly until Percy released him. He took a few steps back and held his arms over his stomach again, as if defending a weak point. 

Annabeth set a hand on his shoulder. “I have to leave for class, but are you going to be okay?” 

Nico took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Good. When I get home, we can start looking for a therapist,” she said in a way that let Nico know she also meant if that’s okay with you. “And Percy, when you put Luke down for his nap, you two should start looking for apartments.” 

Annabeth pulled Nico forward and kissed his forehead. She kissed Percy on the lips, then Luke on the top of his head as she grabbed her bag, and then she was gone. 

Nico didn’t move for a few minutes. Percy settled back onto the floor with Luke and eventually turned the TV on for some background noise. Nico edged his way toward the couch and sat down in the corner, curled up with his knees to his chest. 

Percy reached back and tapped on Nico’s shin with his fingers. “Hey, no hard feelings, right?” he asked, his head tipping back to rest on the cushion next to Nico. “I love having you here, dude, and I’ve missed you a lot, but I’m sorry that it’s not working out. Besides, don’t you think it’ll be better to have your own place, anyway?” 

Nico’s arms tightened around his legs. “I don’t...want to live alone. I don’t think I can.” 

“Oh.” Percy’s gaze turned back to Luke. “I guess I always assumed that you were the type to like having your own space. Uh, okay, well, we can…” Percy hummed in thought. “We can look on...Craigslist? To find you a roommate?” He glanced back at Nico, and there must have been something about the look on Nico’s face that made Percy burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. Stupid idea.” 

Percy scooped the TV remote up off the floor and tossed it back to Nico. “Go ahead and put on whatever.”

Nico flipped through the channel guide for a few minutes, but ended up sticking with whatever kid’s show was already playing. 

“Maybe you could crash with somebody we already know,” Percy said. “We could talk to Jason or Leo, or-- No, wait, now that I think of it, I think Leo might be crashing on Jason’s couch… Hm. You can’t get a dorm at NYU if you’re not taking classes this semester… Man, the only person I can think of that has a spare room is my mom.” 

Nico felt himself perk up for the first time in days. “Do you think you could ask her?” 

Percy shot him a teasing grin. “You wanna live with my mom?” He looked away before Nico’s expression could fall, and shrugged. “Alright, I’ll call her after lunch. I’m sure she’d love to have you.”

Nico had his first meeting with a therapist the day before moving out of Percy and Annabeth’s apartment. It didn’t take long to pack up his belongings, mainly because he’d hardly taken anything out of his car to begin with. But when he got to Sally’s with the Jackson-Chases not far behind, they unloaded everything from his car to take inside. The guest room was a bit of a tight squeeze with all of Nico’s boxes and suitcases inside, but he had plenty of time to unpack and organize later. 

He came out of the room - his room - to thank Sally and Paul a few more times, but when he stepped into the kitchen, Sally beat him to it. She pulled Nico into a hug, practically squeezing the life out of him as she did so, and kissed the side of his head. “We’re so happy to have you here, Nico,” she whispered to him. “You stay here as long as you need.” 

“It won’t be forever,” Nico promised her after weaseling out of the hug. “I just need to figure some stuff out, and maybe I can try to get a dorm when the fall semester starts, and--” 

Sally took Nico’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Take all the time you need, honey.” 

Nico felt like he might cry. He forgot what it was like to have a mom.

thanks for reading!

buy me a coffee | more nico birthday event stuff

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 10

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1638

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, sex talk

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 10

Within a week of the first ultrasound, you started to feel a low level of nausea.  By the seventh week of the pregnancy, you were wretchedly ill.  It lasted all day and even with the prescription anti-nausea medication you could be set off at any time by any random thing.  Scents were common.  Anything from shampoo to coffee would send you running to hug the toilet bowl.  Foods would set it off too.  Some days you were lucky if you could hold down dry toast and saltines.  One time you were watching a TV show and they showed someone cooking and that even set you off.  You were off sick from work more than you were there and you were starting to get quite weak.

While there was no way to back up your hypothesis, you wondered if it was true that morning sickness was caused by the body’s reaction to the increase of hCG, you were getting that reaction more severely because you had no experience being sick.

Thankfully the three times that Natasha forced you to go into the medbay to check on the baby within two weeks, the baby was always fine.  They’d put you on an IV for a while to get your electrolytes back up and then send you back home.

“Maybe you should just move in with us,” Clint suggested, as you lay with your head in Natasha’s lap and she played with your hair.  You were into the ninth week of your pregnancy and they had taken to just staying with you constantly.  Not always both at once, unlike you, they had missions to go on.  Neither liked leaving you alone for too long though and often the only break you got from them was at night when you were asleep.

“That’s a good idea,” Natasha said gently.  “We can take care of you better like that.”

You grumbled.  It was already hard enough to keep your feelings in check.  The hormones had amped up the attraction you felt for them even with debilitating nausea.  Each time Natasha’s fingers ran over your scalp it made your whole body feel fuzzy and warm and the urge to lean up and kiss her was only really being kept at bay by the fact you felt so physically weak and a fear that if you did it, you’d throw up on her.

“What was that noise?”  Clint teased.

You grumbled again and pulled your faux mink blanket over your head.  Clint started laughing as Natasha moved her hand to the middle of your back and began rubbing it in soothing circles.  “Why are you so grumpy about it?  Does our place stink or something?”

You poked your head out and looked at him.  “You drink too much coffee,” you said, grasping for any excuse you could give as to why it would be a bad idea.

“Thanks, captain obvious,” Clint teased.  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“The smell of coffee makes me puke,” you said.

“Oh you’re right, that was a bad idea,” Clint joked.

“Clint could drink his coffee in the cafeteria,” Natasha said.  “Or his office.”

“Probably both,” Clint said.  “And I can get those bottles of iced coffee and keep them in the fridge and not drink them near you, for if I’m really jonesing.”

“And we can get unscented shampoo and get rid of all the bacon, cheese, and whatever else is setting you off,” Natasha said.

“Bacon too?  Why don’t you just kill me now,” Clint cried dramatically.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you whined.  “I just want to sleep.”

“I know, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed.  “You don’t have to move in with us if you don’t want to, but I hate seeing you like this.  You’re so sick, and you’re sick because you’re doing this amazing selfless thing for us.  Move in with us.  You can have the spare room and we’ll fill the cupboards with saltines and ginger ale.  Wanda has suggested Millet and a ginger soup too.  I can … get her to teach me to make it.  And you can sleep and we’ll take care of you.”

“Isn’t that going to be the baby’s room?  Don’t you want to set it up for them?”  You asked.

“Eventually,” Natasha admitted.  “But we’re planning to have them sleep in with us, to begin with, so we can set it up while they’re in with us.”

You grumbled again and hid under the blanket again.  Clint started laughing again.  “Is this what being a parent will be like?  ‘Cause this is horrible.”

“Don’t,” you whined.

“What?”  Clint asked.  “You’re being a baby.”

“I don’t want you to see me like your kid,” you said.

“We don’t,” Natasha said, stifling a laugh.  “Tell us what’s going on in your head will you?”

There was no way in hell you were going to do that.  Not now.  Not when your hormones were going off the charts.  Chances were that in the second trimester you’ll be on some new obsession and the one where you believed you were in love with Clint and Natasha would drift away and you’d be into ice cream and pickles instead.

“Fine I’ll move in, but no coffee,” you said.  “Or pizza.”

“What the fuck?”  Clint yelped.  “I take it back.  You stay here.  We’ll get you a nanny.”

“It won’t be for long,” Natasha said.  “You can go have pizza with Bucky or Sam if you’re craving it.  And in the books, it says morning sickness usually goes away in the second trimester.  That’s only 3 weeks away.”

“Yeah, alright,” Clint huffed.  “Fine.”

You’d thought the pizza might do it.  It wasn’t a lie.  The smell of it was an instant trigger.  You just hoped that Clint realizing how much he couldn’t have in his home right now would be enough for him to agree to going back and stopping by to check on you.  Now all you had was that you didn’t want to.  But that was a lie.  You did want to.  You wanted to move in with them and share their bed and have them hold you while you fell to sleep and comfort you when you were heaving your guts up.  You wanted them to whisper ‘goodnight’ to you and ‘I love you’.  You wanted them.  And if the words ‘I don’t want to’ came out of your mouth, they’d both know you were lying and they’d keep pressing you to get to the bottom of it and you’d spill.  You’d tell them you loved them and they’d tell you how they loved you too, but they weren’t in love with you.  Then things would be awkward and they’d tippy-toe around you until the baby was born and when it was here, they’d slowly stop talking to you until they would just be a couple of strangers raising a kid you barely knew.

“Okay,” you said, sitting up and pulling your blanket around you.  “How long for?”

“Well at least until the morning sickness goes away,” Natasha said.  “But maybe it would be good for the whole pregnancy.  Then when you go into labor we’ll be right there.”

You nodded and went to stand.  “Gonna have to get rid of my perishables.”

“We can tell the cleaners to do that for you,” Natasha said, getting up.  “Wait here, I’ll go pack some clothes.  You can come back when you’re feeling better for the rest of the things you think you might need.  Or send one of us back for you.”

You watched her leave the room.  You lay down on the couch and Clint sat down cross-legged on the floor near your head.  “I don’t really mind missing out on the pizza, you know?”

“Mmm-“ was all you could manage and Clint pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You want me to take you back to the medbay?  Get you on an IV again?”  He asked.  You shook your head.  The last place you wanted to be was in a hospital bed. “If you can’t keep anything down tomorrow, you should.”

You nodded your head.  “I know.”

“Why didn’t you want to come stay with us?” He whispered.

You shook your head.  “I do,” you admitted.

“You know whatever you need we’re here for you,” Clint said.  You weren’t sure, but there seemed to be a weight to the words but your head was too cloudy to interpret it.

“I know,” you said.  “Me too.”

“Well, you’ve already shown that,” he chuckled, rubbing your stomach.  “When we get to our place you should try drinking some ginger ale and eating something.  Even if it is just a saltine.”

“I will,” you whined.  “Don’t baby me.”

“You can sleep in our bed if you want,” he said.

You grumbled and pulled the blanket up over your head.  Clint laughed and poked his head under it.  “You know you hide in here when you want something but you don’t want to admit it?”

“What if you wanna do… sex?” You muttered.

Clint burst out laughing and rocked back on his butt.  “We’ll just do it around you,” he joked.

“Be serious, Clint,” you whined.

“If we wanna do sex we’ll let you know,” he said.  “Or we’ll do it somewhere else.  I got a big public place kink anyway.”

“Okay,” you said, rolling over so you weren’t facing him.

He leaned over you and rubbed your hip.  “Okay, you’ll sleep in our bed?”

“Yeah…” you conceded.

“Thought so,” he said, patting your hip.

Natasha emerged from your bedroom with a suitcase.  “Alright.  Let’s go get you to bed, dorogáya,” she said.  “You need your energy.”

You dragged yourself to your feet, pulling the blanket around you.  Natasha led the way and you shuffled after her to your new home.

// NEXT

[reinelefey]

Things about chronic pain that entertain me to no end: (@thebibliosphere, this will probably make you chuckle )

TERRIFYING medical professionals because what I deem to be a 5-6 is a 10 on everyone else's pain scale.

When I went to the hospital last night, I told the nurse " Listen, my pain scale is hella skewed. I slept through labour because it didn't hurt as much as I do on the daily." And her eyes were like saucers. So I said "For me, labour was about a 4-5 in pain. This... This is a 5-6. Also, my vision goes completely white when I stand up, and I am INSTANTLY covered in sweat. So, yeah..."

I shit you not, this nurse was whiter than paper when she came back, and explained that I had ruptured an ovarian cyst the size of a GRAPEFRUIT, and my vision was whiting out because of a combination of my brain not tolerating the pain, and also blood loss from internal bleeding.

So, three shots in the ass later, two separate CT scans to be sure the bleeding stopped, and THREE prescriptions to fill, along with a bag of IV fluids, I was allowed to go home. So she asked how I got to the hospital, and if I had anyone to drive me home. I said "Nah, I drove myself, and I can drive myself home. The pain is almost down to a 4, unless I cough or sneeze."

Cue dinner plate eyes again, and a quiet "You... Drove... Yourself?"

"Well, yeah, I didn't have anyone else to drive me, what else should I have done?"

And in the most incredulous tone I have ever heard she goes "Call an ambulance!! You were BLEEDING INTERNALLY!!" I told her those are expensive, and I'd have to way to get home, and she didn't seem to have an answer for that, so I won, I guess.

Long story short: the ONLY funny thing about chronic pain is terrifying hospital staff with their imaginings of what your "10" would have to be, and laughing at their faces when you tell them you hit a 10 several times a week, where all you can do is just sit in the shower and cry.

[purselover2]

Pairings Bucky x Reader

Triggers: heart condition, heart episode, being tied up, hospitalization,

Summary: Sort of a prequel to Drabble I posted on Saturday. After talking to @harlekin6 about how Bucky would find out and react to discovering you had a heart condition I wrote this.

No beta so any mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know and I’ll fix them.

**************************************************

Title: Heart Revelation

You don’t like to tell people about your heart. As soon as you do they start treating you different. Like you’re made of glass and your heart the weakest of the glass could shatter and take you with it. So you take your medication in private, fill your prescriptions over in Queens so there’s less chance of running into anyone. Go to your heart doctors, you have two, alone and deal with whatever they tell you alone. You get away with this easily. There are only a few things that trigger an episode and you avoid those. Being startled, being scared or shocked. Being held with your hands above your head for several minutes.

He had wanted to kick things up some in the bedroom and you were more than happy to say yes. He was an amazing boyfriend and lover and treated you like you were his most precious gift. So when he suggested tying your arms to the bed frame you hadn’t thought it through before hastily saying yes because the thought was hot and you wanted it just as much as he did.

Your heart was beating crazy fast, usually getting up to around 170 when the episodes started. Usually you could just lay down until it slowed down after all no one could feel it but you and no one could certainly hear it. Unless of course that person was a super soldier with superior hearing.

Bucky was just about to move lower when he felt something change with y/n. Her heart, he could feel it vibrating her entire body and he could hear it beating way too fast even for someone in a state of arousal.

“Y/n? Sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He moved off you and up to look at your face. Which was blood red.

“Arms. Down. Now.” You breathed out as quick as you could since these episodes always made it hard to talk.

Bucky didn’t wait for more words nor did he wait to find a knife to cut the ties. In one motion the split the headboard in two and freed your hands. It would have been sexy as fuck if you weren’t feeling like your heart was going to explode.

As soon as your arms are down Bucky starts rubbing them to get the circulation back in them. “Y/n? Tell me what to do? Can you talk Doll?” When he saw you were struggling to breath he finishes getting the ties off your hands and finds your shirt and puts it over your head. Picking you up heads towards his door. “FRIDAY alert the med bay I’m bringing y/n in. There’s something with her heart.”

“Done Sargent Barnes. I alway took the liberty of running her vitals and sent the information down to their thermal.”

“Thanks.” Bucky replied as he raced down the hall the elevator. FRIDAY had it waiting for him and you arrived there quickly.

“Put her on the bed.” Dr. Cho ordered. She had been in her lab working the weekend and knew there wasn’t another doctor on site currently. So hearing there was an emergency she had rushed over.

Once Bucky had you on the bed, Helen started giving orders. “Get the heart monitor on her. Start an IV. We’re going to have to get the drugs started to get it lowered.” She placed the oxygen mask over your face. “Afib and aflutter?” She asked to which you nodded yes. “Alright. Then you know what we’re going to do. Just relax and we’ll get it down.”

Bucky stood back taking it all in. From the question Cho had asked you he figured out that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Apparently you knew you had a heart condition and had never told him. Helen looked over and saw the look on Bucky’s face and moved over to him.

“I’m assuming you didn’t know.”

Bucky shook his head.

“Okay. Listen to me. I get that you’re upset but she doesn’t need that right now. She needs to be calm and focused on her heart rate going down. Knowing you’re upset is going to negatively impact that. Can you put that to the side for now and help her?”

“Yes. What do I need to do?”

“Talk to her. Not things she needs to respond to but just talk to her. Hold her hand. Touch her. I have the IV started with a drug that should work to bring it down. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She walked over to the monitoring station on the other side of the lab.

Bucky walked over and sat down beside your bed. Taking your hand in his metal one and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Doc says she’s got the medicine started that’s going to fix this. Said I should keep you company and hold your hand. Didn’t have to tell me twice on that one. I love holding your hand.” He smiled at you. “I’m we need to take those days off we talked about and go to the cabin we found on that recon mission. You know the one with that huge hot tub outside? We could unplug and just be together.” Bucky spent the next hour talking about the trip. You were sure he was upset but trying his best to not show it. You were even more grateful for his presence in your life.

Soon Helen came back over and check the monitors attached to you.

“It went back down about 20 minutes ago and seems to be staying there. I’m going to stop the drip and reduce your oxygen down. I’ll take the mask off and replace it with the nasal tube so you can talk. Just remember to stay calm and no getting upset.” She said looking at Bucky at the last part.

“Thanks Helen. I’ll be okay.” You smile at her and she walks off.

Knowing the conversation is inevitable you turn to Bucky. “Bucky I....I’m sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Yes. You should have.” He agreed. “So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t tell anyone.”

“But I’m not anyone y/n. I’m the man who loves you. The man who is supposed to protect you and keep you safe. But instead I put you in danger because I didn’t know.” He closed his eyes. “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“I’m sorry. I keep saying that but I am. I don’t want you to know because when people find out they treat me different. Like I’m fragile. Sick. I didn’t want you to start and we both know that the second you found out you would have started over thinking everything just like you’re doing right now. Like you have since you found out. Tell me I’m wrong?” You held his hand tighter which made him look at you and you had your answer. “Told you.”

“Of course I’m thinking. Doll you have to take care of yourself. All the training and the missions. The sex. Oh my God. You let me tie you up. Did you know that it could happen?” Bucky asked you.

“Having my hands above my head sometimes causes issues.” You try to downplay it. “But I hadn’t had an issue in a long time and I thought that it would be okay.”

“Do you know how I would have felt how I would have reacted if something worse had happened?” Bucky leaned closer.

“I’m sorry Bucky. But I can’t be coddled. I won’t. I can still do training. Still do missions. I know my limitations.” You tried to get him to see your side.

“Do you see a doctor regularly?” He asked.

“I see two doctors. I have a cardiologist and a heart surgeon. I see them regularly and the both know what I do for living. They both cleared me. For everything Bucky. Even sex. They know I know what to avoid what could trigger an episode. I should have told you when you asked about it. I wanted it too.” You held his hand tighter.

“We need to talk about this more but you need rest. I was serious earlier when I said we needed to take some days and go to that cabin. How about tomorrow I call and make arrangements and we go this weekend if Helen says it’s okay?” Bucky stood up. He needed to leave. Needed to think and he knew y/n needed to rest.

“I would love that.” You smiled.

“Okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky leans down and kisses your forehead and turns to walk out.

Just as he reaches the door you speak. “Bucky? We’re gonna be okay right?” Your voice breaking a little.

Bucky hears it and hurries to your side. “Doll. Of course. Of course. We’re gonna be fine. We are fine. I love you. I’ll be back in the morning.” He kisses you again this time on the lips. “Now get some rest. You’ll need it for this weekend”. He winks and you catch his meaning.

“Yes Sargent.” You mock salute him and laugh. You lay back and close your eyes knowing that everything really would be okay.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 51

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thunderintheshadows​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

“I do not need a goddamn wheelchair.” Esme grumbles, five hours later, as Kyle pushes her out of the front entrance of their local hospital. “I can walk on my own.”

“Well considering you fainted once at mom's, and twice while you were here, I think it's safe to say you shouldn't be walking anywhere on your own right now.”

“People faint,” she shrugs.

“Pregnant women shouldn't faint. And they especially shouldn't faint three times. You heard what the doctor said. You're severely dehydrated, your blood pressure is sky high, and when you fainted, you managed to hit your head, give yourself a concussion, and receive seven stitches for your trouble.”  

She frowns at the last part; gingerly touching the bandage that covers the injury in question that runs down some of her forehead and into her right eyebrow.

“So now you have a prescription he wants you to get, and you've got this handy dandy portable IV...” he nods down at the small back like device resting in her lap, the needle of the IV having been inserted into the top of her left hand and secured with clear tape. “A nurse will come every day to check on it. To change the bag and see if the line is still good. Just be thankful that you get to go home. If I had my way, I would have had you admitted for a couple of days at least.”

“Well good thing firefighters have no pull when it comes to those things. Because I do not need to be in the hospital.  All I need, is to be as far away from mom as possible. Can you believe the things she said? Who says shit like that? Who wishes death on their own son in law? Or basically suggests her married daughter gets an abortion because mommy dearest doesn't like said son in law?”

“Look, what mom said was completely out of line and I think she's a huge bitch for saying any of it. But stop thinking about it. Because what she said and how you reacted is how you ended up here in the first place. So let's not talk about mom at all, okay? I'll take you home and keep an eye on you. You'll be more comfortable there than at my place. In your own bed, surrounded by all your stuff.”

Nik had assured them that it would be perfectly safe to return to the house; she and the security team would be there around the clock, and they were more than capable of both spotting and diffusing threats.

“Not everything,” she sighs. “My kids aren't there. My husband isn't there.”

“Well, he will be, Because he's on his way back.”

“Wait...wait...” she clamps her hands down on the wheels of the chair, preventing them from turning. “...what do you mean he's on his way back? You called him?  You actually called him? Why the hell would you do that?”

“I didn't call him. Nik did.”

“Why? She didn't need to do that. Why the hell...?”

“Oh I don't know why she would do that, Esme. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're his wife and you're pregnant with his baby and you nearly just got admitted to the damn hospital!”

“I just fainted. When did it become such a serious issue for someone to faint? It's not life or death.”

“Okay, first of all, it's never normal for someone to just faint unless there's an underlying issue. Second, you're having a baby. So there isn't just a concern with your health, but with the baby's health too. You're not the type that gets sick easily and you don't normally have health problems. But, you have to admit, with the twins and Declan, there were problems. A lot of problems. Especially with the twins. So don't you think it's better to get you looked at and see if there's something else going on? With either of you?”

“It's just stress. The doctor asked if I've been under a lot of stress and I have. Huge stress. And then mom started with her shit and...”

“Listen, it's just better if things are taken seriously. They did some tests and some blood work and if anything is wrong, they'll let you know. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

She nods.

“If nothing is wrong, then great. If something is wrong, then at least they found it and at least they can do something about it. Why do you have to be like this? So damn stubborn? Of all the things you had to inherit from dad, it had to be one of the worst possible things.”

“Well you inherited his looks so the joke's on you,” she teases.

“Are you trying to say I'm ugly?” he grins.

“I'm trying to say when you were born, mom said 'what a treasure' and dad said 'yeah, let's bury it'.”

Kyle chuckles. “I should dump you out of this wheelchair for saying that.”

“You'd never. You love me too much. Since we were kids and you used to beat up the bullies that used to teased me because I liked to climb trees and play with Transformers and GI Joe's instead of dolls.”

“I tell you, you could throw a left hook better than any of the guys I knew. They were just jealous. Because you were cooler than they were and I liked to hang out with you more than them. I'll stay with you okay? Keep an eye on you. Make sure you're eating and drinking and taking it easy. I already called my boss and he said to take a couple days and call him if I need more time. I'll hang around until Tyler gets here.”

“I still can't believe Nik called him,” Esme huffs. “This is the last thing he needs on his plate. He's already got enough  stress with having to go New Zealand and find those kids. He doesn't need to be worrying about me too. You should have just left it alone and not told him.”

“Kid, he's your husband. There was never an option of not telling him. I think he cares more about you and this baby than he does about some fucking job. I get its kids that are involved. I get how bad that sucks and how horrible it is. I really do. But someone else can finish the job. He's not the only mercenary out there.”

“He feels he needs to finish it. That he started it and it's up to him to get them.”

“Well he's obviously changed his mind because he's on his way home.”

“For good?”

“I don't know. I didn't talk to him. Like I said, Nik called him. And apparently he flipped his shit and told her to get him on the first flight home and that's what she did. So despite what mom thinks about him, he obviously cares more about you and the baby than he does about the job. If he didn't, he wouldn't have insisted that he was coming home even after Nik assured him that things weren't that serious.”

“And you call me stubborn? Tyler is way worse than I am.”

“He's not stubborn. He loves you. There's never been a doubt of that, that's for sure. I mean, if he can put up with your shit for this long, he must love you.”

“Or he's just a glutton for punishment.”

“Hey, you said it, not me,” he pushes the wheelchair as close as he can to the front passenger side door of his truck, and then sits the brakes and squeezes between his vehicle and the one parked beside to open the door. “Hey!” he scolds, when she attempts to stand. “I don't think so, kid. Sit your ass down. You don't do anything unless I tell you to, understand?”

“As much as I'm sure Nik will find your assertiveness insanely hot, you're my brother and you don't get to boss me around.”

“The hell I don't. Sit.”

“Fine,” she huffs, and plops back down. “You know, you are more like dad than I realized. He was bossy too,”

“Are you like this at home?” Kyle inquires, as he pops open the door and then helps her out of the chair, hands under her arms for support. “Do you get like this when Tyler tries to help? You get all obstinate and bitchy with him too?”

“Yep. And then he gets mad and we fight and then we have angry sex and things go back to normal.”

“You know what, some things I do not need to know. And that's one of them. Can you get up in there or do you need me to put you over my shoulder and drop you in to your seat?”

“I'm not an invalid, thank you very much. I only fainted.”

“Three times. And stop lying to yourself that there's just that wrong, okay? There's something going on with either you or the baby and it needs to get sorted out. Just let people take care of you, okay? You've spent five and half years either taking care of Tyler or taking care of kids. It's your turn now.”

“Oh just what I want. Sitting on my ass while someone caters to every whim and need...wait a second...” she frowns and cocks her head to the side. “...that actually sounds kind of nice.”

“You deserve someone to wait on you hand and foot, kid. Like the princess you are.”

“Princess? I'm the motherfucking queen, K.”

He just shakes his head and shuts her door.

****

While it's good to be home, it feels strange at the same time. It's empty. Lonely. Way too quiet. Nothing more than furniture and other belongings in empty rooms.  No kids running around; no shrieking, no squealing, no giggling, no near constant demands for snacks and juice. No dog barking or following her from room to room, desperate for the attention he isn't receiving (yet definitely is) from the others. No husband out working in the back yard or the garage.  While all of their things are there...in the exact places they'd been left...the house and its surroundings seem foreign. As if it belongs to someone else.

“Nik said the guys checked the place,” Kyle says, as he steps out onto the back deck, carrying a bottle of beer for himself, a steaming mug of tea -decaf, as the ER doctor had suggested-, where she sits in one of the oversized Adriondack chairs, a flannel blanket pulled up to her chin, legs stretched out and feet on the wooden railing in front of her.  “No sign of any trouble. Maybe those Irish guys already came to town and scared the bad guys away.”

“Or at least chased them somewhere else,” she says, and gives her brother an appreciative smile as he places her drink in the chair's cup holder.

“It's getting pretty late. You should be getting some rest.”

“It's nine thirty.”

“At night.”

“It's nine thirty,” she stresses. “I haven't gone to bed this early since before I had Millie. Before I got too huge and too uncomfortable and I couldn't sleep properly anyway.  You're getting a little too naggy.”

“I'm not naggy,” he argues, as he takes a seat in the chair beside her. “I'm worried about my kid sister. And my niece or nephew. Maybe both. Maybe there's two in there again.”

“Oh God, bite your tongue. Do not wish that on me for a second time. I love my boys to the end of the earth and beyond, that was the most brutal seven and a half months of my entire life. I do not want to go through that again. I'd rather have another nine plus pounder than two at the same time. Besides...” she reaches under her blanket and pulls out the ultrasound photo she's been keeping safe in her possession. “...looks like there's one baby Rake.”

Kyle takes the picture from her, squinting his eyes in an attempt to make out any distinguishing features. “What the hell am I looking at?”

She leans sideways in her seat and begins pointing out various things that the tech had circled. Heart, spine, kidneys, both eyes, nose, and mouth.  The radiologist on call had said that everything looked 'perfectly fine' and 'extremely healthy'. All parts existent and working properly, from what he could tell. “I'm a lot further than I thought,” she says to her brother. “I thought maybe two months. Three at the most.”

“And?” he asks.

“Three months, three weeks and two days.”

“Do you know the exact hours and minutes too?”

She rolls her eyes.  “I don't know that's the exact time. That's what the tech said based on all the measurements and everything. That's almost four months, K. I don't understand how it can be that far ahead. Nearly four months and I never showed any signs whatsoever? I mean, I missed a period and a half of one but that's nothing. Things have always been screwed up in that respect. That's never been normal.”

“Okay, you're my sister and I do not need to know certain things. Your...cycle...or whatever...is not something I need to know.  So it's a bad thing you're this far ahead, or...?”

“It's not that it's bad. It's just weird. Look, when you get married and your wife starts having babies, she will know everything that goes on in her body. And I mean everything. I thought I did know everything that my body is telling me. I mean, I've only been through this three other times, right? Oh no. This time is totally different. I thought I was just run down and stressed and worried and all that crap that comes with Tyler doing what he does. And you know what? He was the one the one who thought I was pregnant. Way before I did. You know what that means?”

Kyle frowns.  “What?”

“It means he was right. And when I tell him just how far along I am and that he was right, he will hold that over my head for years. Decades. Because that's what Tyler does. Because Tyler isn't used to being right and when I have to admit he is, he makes my life hell. Well maybe not hell. But he makes it very annoying. And I am not in the mood for that kind of shit. I'm cranky and I'm hormonal and it pains me inside to know I have to admit he was right.”

Her brother laughs. “You two are perfect for each other, I swear. He practically says the same stuff about you.”

“Excuse me? He does what? Have you been talking about me?” she gives an excited gasp and sits up, then asks “ Do you have a bromance going on?”

“We talk,” Kyle admits.

“When?”

“When you don't realize it's happening. What? You need to know everything?”

“I think it's a big deal when my husband...the black sheep of this family, through no doing of his own...is having a bromance with my favourite brother. It makes my heart happy. What's wrong with that? And what do you guys talk about?”

He shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“What? Guy stuff. You know, going to the gym, cars, trucks, work shit, girl shit.”

“Girl shit? He's talking about girls with my brother?”

“He doesn't talk about girls. I talk about girls. He talks about you.”

“Oh really...” her eyes narrow. “...and what does he say? Don't hold back. You can tell me. Don't protect him.”

“Nothing bad, I swear. He has never once said anything bad about you. The total opposite, actually. Trust me when I say that after five and a half years, that guy is still wildly and crazily in love with you.”

She smiles and sips her tea.  “He's lucky.”

“It's just random guy shit we talk about. I mean, every so often we'll talk about how big of a bitch mom is and how ridiculous the shit she says is.  Sometimes we talk about sports.  He really hates hockey by the way but I won't hold that against him. And every so often he'll talk about shit that's bothering him.”

“Really?” she's genuinely surprised. “He talks to you about that stuff?”

Kyle nods and sips his beer.

“What has he told you?”

“Esme, it's kind of personal, don't you think? If he's telling me and not you...”

“I'm not asking to be nosy and I don't expect you to betray his confidence. I'm asking because I'm worried about him. He's been having some really hard times, K. Mentally. And not just the depression and the anxiety. But with the PTSD and the brain fog and the memory issues. Have you noticed any of those things?”

“I've noticed a couple things, I guess. Nothing major. I just figured that whatever he'd been through had done a real number on him, you know? I mean, now that I know exactly what he went through, it's no wonder the guy has issues. That would fuck anyone up.”

“Has he told you about any issues? Anything specific?”

“Esme....”

“He's my husband. Kyle. And I'm worried about him. I don't know what to do for him. I don't know if he needs more therapy or if he needs different medication or if he needs both. I just want to help him.”

“I know. But right now, you're the one that needs help. I know you're used to being the mother hen and the one that babies everyone, but you've got your own shit going on, kid. You do not need to be stressing out over this. If you want me to, I can talk to him. See if he'll tell me anything else other than what he already has. But you can't be worried about this. Especially now. Not with your own stuff going on.”

“I fainted, K. That's it. I fainted.”

“There's way more than that going on and you know it. You need to take it easy and let people take care of you for a change. Stop trying to solve everyone's problems and just worry about yourself. That's why you're having issues in the first place. Because you stress yourself trying to fix everybody. Just...stop...” he reaches out and gently squeezes the back of her neck.  “...stop trying to save everyone.”

“That is not what I'm trying to do. I'm worried about him, Kyle. Legitimately worried. He isn't himself and he...”

“You just said he was stressed and had a lot on his plate.”

“It goes way beyond that.”

“Is he drinking again? Back on the Oxy?”

“He was drinking but he says he's sober and staying sober. And no.  He's not on Oxy again. He doesn't even like taking Tylenol. Which is a problem all in itself because he's in all this pain and he doesn't want to take anything for it.”

“And I said I would talk to him and see if he'll tell me anything else. Look, he's not coming home so you can take care of him. He's coming home to take care of you. Would you let him do that? You always have this need to take care of him, maybe he feels like he needs to do the same thing for you.  So give him that, okay?”

“You promise you'll talk to him?”

“If you're that worried about him...”

“I am. And this isn't my usual worrying about stupid shit. This is serious. There is something going on up in his brain and I don't know how to help him. And I know he hates telling me things because he hates me worrying. So maybe he'll tell you instead.”

“I will talk to him,” Kyle promises her. “You've had a long day. Lots of time on a plane, the excitement at mom's, all the poking and prodding at the hospital. You need sleep. That baby's counting on you, kid. You're the only one that can keep him or her safe and sound in there. So go. Go inside and lie down and sleep.  I'll be on the couch if you need me.” okay?”

“Where's Nik going to be?” she teases, as she pushes the blanket off of her and stands up, immediately feeling light headed and having to place a hand on her brother's shoulder to steady herself.

“I knew you should have been admitted,” he huffs.

“I'm fine. I just got up too quickly. Relax, dad. Jesus.”

“Don't get lippy with me. Because I will fireman carry you upstairs.”

“Is that how you're going to get Nik into bed? Seduce her with your fireman abilities?” she tousles his hair, presses a kiss to his cheek.

“How do you know she's not going to seduce me?” he counters.

“If you're going to have sex, I just ask that it's not in any of my children's beds. And stay out of Ovi's apartment.  Go and do it somewhere else if you have to. I don't want to be hearing the two of you bumping uglies, okay?”

“It's only fair. I've had to hear you and Tyler before.”

“That's because Tyler was trying to teach you how to do things properly,” she teases.

“You're a smart ass, you know that.”

“I do,” she says, and then disappears into the house.

***

The traffic is terrible; hampered by a steady rain and strong winds.   And he sits in the passenger seat as Yaz drives,  elbow on the door, hand rubbing his chin and mouth repeatedly, both legs shaking nervously.  The call from home has him on edge; brain running through all worst possible case scenarios, nerves completely shot, desperately yearning for something to take the edge of.  To at least calm him enough to stop fearing the worst. The assurances from Nik that there wasn't something seriously wrong hadn't worked; she'd insisted that he didn't need to return home and that things were 'under control' and he needed to just stay where he was and concentrate on the job at hand. He'd snapped on her. Telling her to shove the job up her ass and get him a way home. Sooner. Not later. That she'd set this bullshit in motion the moment she decided that ratting him out was a good idea. Had she not done that, Esme would still be in Ireland. Not half way around the goddamn world, dealing with issues with the baby all by herself.

“You need to calm down,” Yaz says.

“You need to fuck off,” Tyler retorts.

Yaz sighs. “You won't miss the flight. The guy's waiting for you. So...”

“I fucking hate traffic.”

“Okay, I get that. But like I said, they're waiting for you...”

“I don't give a shit. I need to get home. But instead I'm stuck in this fucking bullshit,” he angrily gestures out the windshield.

“”You heard what Nik said. Everything is fine. They didn't even admit her. If there was something wrong, she would have been admitted. “

Tyler sighs, and closes his eyes; trying his best to block out his friend's voice. The last thing he fucking needs is someone trying to tell him just where his concerns should lie and where his priorities should be. There'd been no hesitation when Nik had called; he'd already been throwing clothes and other personal belongings into one of the suitcases before she even got to the part where things 'weren't that bad'. It didn't matter how goddamn bad things were; he was going home and no one was going to stop him.

“It isn't that bad,” Yaz says. “Can you stop shaking like that? It's annoying me.”

“Just fucking drive,” he responds, and shakes his legs even harder, just to be spiteful.

“Would you just calm down? What are you so freaked out about?”

“If you tell me to calm down one more time...”

“Being this worked up isn't solving anything. I'm getting you to the airport, they're not going to take off without you, Nik said that things are that bad and....”

“I don't give a fuck what Nik said.  I need to get home. To my wife. I don't care if things are 'that bad' or not. She shouldn't be going through this alone.”

“Isn't her brother with her?”

“What the hell does that matter? I should be with her. And I would be if I never took this goddamn job. If that fucking asshole never showed up in Colorado.”

“Well technically, he's been after you since Guatemala, so...”

“Yaz, we don't need to get fucking technical. If we really want to get into it, none of this would be happening if your sister didnt' fuck up and hire Jason Andrews' brother. Which is who hired McMann to take me out. And if I really want to be a petty asshole, I'd say we also wouldn't be in this situation if your sister hadn't have ratted me out to my wife in the first place.”

“I get you're pissed about that, but...”

“I am more than pissed. I am so far past pissed. She should have just kept her fucking mouth shut. There was no reason she had to go to Esme. What good did it do?”

“Other than get you to knock your shit off and start getting your head on straight? She did the right thing, and if you'd calm down long enough, you'd realize that.”

“Stop fucking telling me to calm down!” he snaps.  “I will knock you the fuck out, Yaz, I don't care if you're driving. I am on my last shred of sanity and my last nerve is hanging on by a thread.  This all could have been avoided if your sister kept her mouth shut. If she'd minded her own business, Esme would still be here. With me. And that way if things went wrong with the baby, I'd be with her. Not thousands of miles away.”

“If you hadn't have decided to take matters into your own hands and drug and kidnap someone, it wouldn't be happening either.”

“Do I need to fucking remind you that you were on my side? That you agreed McMann deserved to suffer? That you agreed to help me? And then as soon as your sister showed up, you fucking bailed on me and threw me under the bus. That was a bitch move, Yaz. You fucking coward.”

“It was getting out of control. You were getting out of control. We've been friends a long time, Tyler. Even longer than you and Nik. I'm the one that got you into the job in the first place. And believe me, every day I want to kick myself in the ass for that. Because if I'd never done that, this wouldn't all be happening. And Dhaka never would have happened.”

“A lot of good things came out of Dhaka,” Tyler says, and can't even believe the words came out of his own mouth.

For years he's been dwelling on all of the bad things that happened in Bangladesh; Mahajan Senior screwing them over, G being killed, Gaspar betraying him, everything that took place on the Sultana Kamal Bridge, the fact that Esme had to see and hear the things she did. Even those long months in the hospital and the lingering, life altering after effects. Maybe it's the meds in his system; allowing him to think clearly and rationally instead of turning him into a zombie.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“My wife, for one. My kids. My chance at a normal life. Which I keep fucking up in the most epic ways possible.”

“It's hard. You've been doing the job for a long time. It's hard to just let it go,” Yaz reasons. “Even though you've got half a dozen reasons to walk away, you just can't. Somewhere along the long, the job stopped being something you do and you became the job.”

Tyler snorts. “Ain't that some shit.”

“You never meant for it to happen. It's not like you intentionally became that way. And it's not like you wanted to put it before your wife and your kids. You didn't even realize it was happening. It just did.  No one is going to fault you for that, Tyler.”

“They don't need to. I already hate myself enough for it.”

“Esme doesn't. She's still around.”

“Until she's not one day. And I don't want that happening.  I can't let that happen. You ask why I'm going home when things aren't that bad? Because that's where I fucking belong. It's where I've always belonged and I never let it happen. Home was never enough until I realized how close I was to losing it. So maybe you're not a coward, Yaz. But I am. I was a coward when I left when Austin was dying and I've been a coward for the last five and a half years.”

His head hurts. Even worse than his knee and his shoulder, for  once. And he reaches into one of the pockets of his flack jacket and pulls out a bottle of prescription meds; twisting off the cap and dumping three small pills into his palm.

“Thought you took your meds today,” Yaz comments.

“You keeping tabs on me now?”

“Thought you were only supposed to take one Valium a day? What the fuck...?”

“It's ativan, dumb ass. For anxiety.  I'm a little fucking anxious right now.”

“A little?”

“Don't make me hurt you, Yaz.”

He places the pills under his tongue, waiting for them to fully dissolve before reaching for a bottle of water sitting in one of the cup holders.

“Are you coming back?” Yaz asks.

“I don't know.”

“When will you know?”

“When I get home and see how bad things are. Can I get home first? Can I get to see my wife and talk to her before you start asking me these things? Fuck the job. She has to come first.”

“I get that. I do. But we're supposed to leave for New Zealand in two days.”

“So leave for New Zealand in two days. Mark and his boys will be with you. What? You need me there to hold your hand? You need me to spoon feed you and wipe your ass after you take a shit?”

Yaz smirks. “You can be a real dick.”

“If...and that's a big if right now...I come back, I'll meet up with you guys there. You don't need me there to gather up intel and find where the kids are. You just need me to get them out.”

“Exactly. We need you. You. Not some random fucking Marine that's never done shit like this before. And definitely not Mark. If anyone would fuck things right up, it's that guy. You're the one with the experience. We need you.”

“Nik can find someone else.”

“There is no one else. And you've been on this since day one. You know the history.  I don't want some newbie just walking in and screwing things up. You're the only one that can do this. Properly. Don't fucking bail on me, Tyler.”

“It's what I do, Yaz. I bail on people. You don't realize that by now?”

“You didn't bail on Ovi,” he points out. “Even when you were told to.”

Tyler sighs.

“So? Are you?” Yaz presses. “Coming back?”

“I don't know,” he admits. “I honestly don't know.”

[autisticmob]

HELLO everyone i am now ten days out from my tiddy surgery so i think while everything is still fresh-ish in my mind I should get a rough timeline of how things went for me, just so anyone having similar stuff done in the future can have it as reference?? 

so under the cut is how shit went down, warning we are gonna be tmi about it for Max Information Dissemination, i will be talking about IV placement, Needles, Bleeding, Bruising, Bathroom Stuff In General, etc. so like. Be Warned.

OKAY SO what did i have done and how did i get it:

- i got a bilateral breast reduction with a “T,” “keyhole,” or “anchor-shaped” incision. this procedure, unlike double-incision top surgery, does not detach your nipples at all, but it DOES leave a decent hunk of breast tissue behind to avoid the nip graft. this connecting tissue keeps your nip attached and supplied with enough blood to survive. that means with this one, theres basically a limit to how much they can take off, and it depends on how big you are to start off with. 

- i went with the T-incisions because as a NB person, I wanted to sidestep the “gender-confirming surgery” route with my insurance. technically, I believe it would have been covered if i had gone through the process of talking to a therapist and getting a note that the surgery WOULD help confirm my gender, but i suspect it would have taken much longer, and I was afraid that my doctor and community resources would not have ended up approving me FOR the surgery since I don’t exactly fit the typical trans narrative. and luckily for me i had Massive, Spine-Bending G Cup Tiddies to contend with. so every doc that took a look at me said “yeah, you need those taken care of for medical reasons.” so i thought hey, let’s see how far this will get me!

- i talked to my primary care doc about my back pain and mentioned i’d like to look into a breast reduction, and she referred me to a local surgeon who could do the procedure. at the time i was still entertaining the idea of double-incision, but as it turned out, this surgeon just didnt do that. but i knew for certain my insurance would cover him, his results were good, and he was local, so i said yes to the T-incisions, which he said would likely get me down from a G to at least a C. it wasnt my ideal scenario admittedly, but frankly the back pain was getting to be too much, and i needed it to be addressed sooner rather than later.

- i had a consultation with the surgeon in early december, and they took pictures and measurements to send to my insurance so they could confirm the tits WERE in fact Too Bomb To Live. Doc said that it varies between insurance companies, but most will have a minimum amount of tissue that needs to be taken off, in grams, from each breast. he was like, “your insurance needs at least 1000g total removed, which’ll leave you on the small side, is that cool?” and i was like “My Man, take AS MUCH as you possibly can, im sick of these” and he was like “cool, makes my job easy then.” 

- it took my insurance like 1.5 to 2 months to get back to me, but late january the surgery place called me and we set a date for february 5th, 2020!!

PRE-OP:

- before i went into surgery, the hospital made me go over my medical history with them over the phone, informed me of all the risks, and gave me a special scrub kit to shower with at home for the last 2 days before the surgery

- fun fact this soap will make your whole bathroom and body smell strongly and exactly like a hospital and it is gross as hell if you hate hospital smell

- i also had to go to my primary care doc to get the OK that i was healthy enough to go under general anesthesia, and also get some blood tests and a urinalysis done. i fucked up the urinalysis tho (which is a whole other story) so i had to redo that the morning of the surgery when i got to the hospital anyway. 

- when i scheduled my surgery they also gave me a list of things i had to NOT DO before i went in. this included stuff like avoiding herbal medications and non-prescription supplements and not drinking any alcohol for like 2 weeks prior to surgery, and not eating anything after midnight the night before surgery.

- then it was SURGERY DAY!!!

- i went in with uhhh a LOT of anxiety about what everything would entail, ngl. i knew i had to do it because staring down the barrel of life with tiddies forever was way scarier than surgery, but yknow whenever you go under general anesthesia they legally do have to let you know that you could die and thats just a lot to consider, PLUS the whole thing involves just, really mangling your torso so like. its a lot! its okay to be scared!

- both my parents went with me for moral support which i appreciated a lot, but i didnt actually see them much since they had to spend a lot of it in the waiting room.

- when i went back with the doc they had me Wash The Tiddy Off with some antiseptic and change into a gown. i got some grippy socks out of the deal which is probably not a universal experience, but this hospital did it so shoutout to them for the socks i guess

- then they asked me all my medical history stuff again and checked me for any like, rashes or open sores or anything. i had some Tit Zits but they did not seem to be worried about that.

- then the surgeon came in and drew lines on me for the incisions. bro when i saw how high up my nips were gonna be i was losing my damn mind. this is one of the really exciting parts, because you finally get to really visualize what your end size is gonna be!! 

- once he was satisfied with how everything looked, they started really Prepping Me For Surgery.

- they hooked me up to a blood pressure cuff, a heart monitor, and some compression leg thingies that would inflate and deflate intermittently around my calves to help me not get blood clots. this felt weird but tbh also like kind of a nice massage

- then the iv placement. bro im not lying when i tell you this is the worst part. the nurse numbed me with some lidocaine before placing the needle and let me tell you that shit HURTED. lidocaine Stings and Burns when it hits and this was arguably the most painful part. but the good news about that is it means nothing else after that is all that bad. and i got THREE lidocaine shots because these two nurses could NOT find my blood anywhere. they finally called in their ringer (an EMT named kirk, s/o to kirk) who got that sucker in my arm with NO numbing and NO pain in like, 2 fucking seconds. i pray you all have a kirk. kirk knows where your fucking blood is and hes not gonna fuck around getting to it because he JUST wrestled a drunk dude into an ambulance like an hour ago and compared to that this is nothing. kirk had sleeveless scrubs. im obsessed. anyway.

- then they put a plastic, inflatable, heated blanket over me? it was between two regular blankets so it wasnt as uncomfortable as you might imagine, but it was strange. warm tho so that was nice.

- THEN they wheeled my bed down to surgery. i was having so much anxiety at this point it was like... dreamlike. getting wheeled into the OR was just surreal. i was like, no thoughts head empty, just taking everything in.

- once i got there the surgical team was very cool about keeping me calm tho. they were playing their like, pump-up music and one of the guys was like “hey fyi about halfway thru the surgery we will be turning the lights off and having a rave, just in the interest of full disclosure. promise not to leave any glowsticks in there tho” and i was like what no i would LOVE glowstick tiddies

- i had to kinda roll from my bed onto the operating table, which was significantly harder and smaller. that kinda made things feel real, so i got a little more anxious at that point.

- to help me calm down they had me breathe in some straightup oxygen thru a mask while they hooked my iv to the fluids and such, and the guy was like “WHOA you got some lungs on you dude” and i was like yeah thanks im recovering from hyperventilating

- then they let the anesthesia into the iv, letting me know the whole time what was happening, talking to me until i was just OUT, which was not a lot of conversation time because i was out in like 5 seconds or less. they didnt make me count down or anything, but i promise you it was nigh instantaneous.

POST OP

- it really was instantaneous. i know everyone says that but it really is the truth, it feels like the whole thing takes seconds. like one moment youre laying there in the OR feeling the drugs Hit, and the next youre waking up in the little wake-up room feelin kinda groggy with a nurse talking to you, and youre still druggy so youre just rambling to her about how fucked your voice sounds right now and as soon as shes contented that youre basically lucid they start wheeling you to your room where youll ACTUALLY stay while you recover.

- THE THING I WAS THE LEAST PREPARED FOR WAS MY THROAT

- your throat will Hurt afterwards, but even more than that, you will be producing So Much Mucus. my surgery took about 2 hours and during that time, all my muscles were paralyzed by the anesthesia, including my lungs, so i was on a breathing tube. my throat, understandably, hated this, and started producing Gallons Of Fucking Mucus to protect itself. it then continued to do this for the next two days or so. the nurses were encouraging me to breathe deep and cough Hard to combat this, and avoid getting pneumonia, so i did. but THAT hurt the tiddies. it was really a vicious cycle. but its necessary because god if i had to have pneumonia on top of all the other recovery shit?? god. 0/10 wouldnt recommend. so it might hurt but dont worry your tiddies wont bust open or anything.

- i spent basically the rest of the day still hooked up to all the machines i listed earlier, PLUS a thing that would beep at me if my heart rate went too high, which it did a lot because i have anxiety, but luckily the nurses didnt seem too concerned. it really kept my breathing on track though because if i didnt breathe deep enough my heart would shoot up super fast and it’d beep and god that was just annoying and im pretty sure that was The Point. you kinda have to get used to breathing again, and the beeping trained me.

- they gave me like a bunch of crackers and a huge mug of water to work on at my leisure. i actually had lunch pretty quick after waking up? i know a lot of people have nausea issues from anesthesia but i didnt experience any of that. i DID move like a fucking sloth while i was eating tho. the pain meds and general grogginess of recovery slowed my whole body down sooooo much. my mom was actually like “are you okay??? like neurologically??????” and i was, totally, i was just. on slo-mo.

- anyway i didnt have to get catheterized for this procedure thankfully but they DID make me measure my pee every time i went to the bathroom. like i had to pee in a little bucket attached to the toilet and the nurse had to come check it every time and i felt really weird about that. so idk just be prepared for that i guess lmao

- also idk if it was the pain meds or the anesthesia itself but post-op, i couldnt shit for like a week. the constipation is real so get u some fucking laxatives asap when you get home, this is not a joke lmao

- they also had me put on a belt every time i got up so the nurse could hold onto me in case i decided to fucking biff it. they got me up a couple times throughout the day/night to walk up and down the hallway outside and get my body used to being upright again

- oh speaking of i never got to lie down completely flat, they had my bed locked at like a 30 degree angle minimum to help with... something. im not quite sure what, but im not gonna question it

- when i got up the next morning they had a couple nurses come in and help me un-bandage so i could shower and finally look at what the tiddies looked like for the first time!! and it was exciting but i didnt cry like i expected lmao i think i was too drained and too distracted by the bleeding

- the bleeding wasnt too bad actually, just little beads kinda coming out of parts of the incisions between the stitches. but once i got in the shower obviously stuff started getting diluted in the water and it looked like a lot more than there actually was, so dont be alarmed by that! 

- SHOWERING: its a little complicated. youre not supposed to soak the incisions, and youre not supposed to apply direct water pressure or actually touch them at this point. so what i had to do was get a washcloth wet and soapy (with antibacterial soap, i think it was hand soap honestly. hand soap’s what ive been using at home so........) and then just kinda. squeeze it at your collarbone and let it drip down over everything kinda minimally. its kind of a process but it works fine. washing your hair and like, tbh literally everything else is gonna be hard. reaching over your head is hard and scary at this point. i will admit my hair care Suffered the first week. 

- then i got bandaged back up and they got me back into my own clothes and ready to go home! they also put a bra on me over the bandages in my new size. i was only there for about 24 hours total, since i didnt really have any complications. 

- on the ride home i had to make sure the cross-chest part of the seat belt was NOT touching me. if whoevers driving you hits a pothole, your soul WILL exit your body tits-first for a moment. im sorry if you live somewhere like here in nebraska where the roads are garbage but its not gonna be fun.

ONCE YOU’RE HOME!!

- i live at home with my mom and sister and if you live alone, id try to have a friend basically move in for the first week. you will need Help with things. basic things. you’ll mostly want to sleep because of the pain meds but those made me pretty dizzy so it was cool having my mom around in case i like. fell on the way to the bathroom and died or anything like that.

- changing bandages is really kind of a 2-person affair too, and youll have to do it at least once a day post-shower, so keep that in mind. 

- the bleeding is like, not that bad after that first day honestly. i never had to change the bandages more than just the once per day. 

- basically from here the procedure is just to take it easy, get up every few hours and walk around a little to keep the blood clots at bay, and enjoy yr new silhouette basically

- worst thing about recovery honestly? im a stomach/side sleeper, and i cant manage anything other than laying flat on my back with my arms at my sides right now, and thats just like.... idk i really cant sleep like that. its not comfy. ive had to set up kind of a pillow fort around me to keep me from rolling over in my sleep bc im afraid i might hurt myself accidentally like that, but idk how well-founded that fear is.

- i will say as someone who did have back problems before this, the difference is IMMEDIATE. i literally had better posture like Day 1. im still a little hunched over because the stitches create a bit of tension in your chest, but like literally it was instantaneous. god. once i got healed to a point that i could like, kinda relax and not be so fucking tense all the time? back pain has basically just been GONE. 

- other fun things to notice: i had some pretty significant stretch marks before, and now they are running in a completely different direction. i crossed my arms over my chest the other day and they actually touched my torso for the first time in like, well over a decade. if i close my eyes and try to grab my tiddy from muscle memory, i stop like a full 3 inches from where my tit actually starts now. the size i am now, just like, freeballing it? this is how i looked when i wore a binder before. if i wore a binder now i imagine id be completely flat, and honestly if i layer up at this point you cant really tell that i have anything more than the average chubby dude’s moobs, which as a kinda chubby person is totally fine. 

its a trip relearning what i look like and what im supposed to feel like but its just. such a fucking improvement over where i was. absolutely no regrets, regardless of how hard recovery has felt at times. anyway i hope this information is at least interesting and maybe helpful to anybody considering anything similar!!

[jackbabewang]

Chapter 1 — Intro: All about him

Word count ‧ 7,194

Chapter summary ‧ Just how did you got yourself into this with Jung Yoonoh?

Masterlist

At the age of twenty-four years, already a married woman, while your husband, who was your bitterest enemy since young—Jung Yoonoh. 

“Weren’t you two had always been going at each other like cats and dogs? Why are you married to him?”

Regarding this query, whoever knew you, or him, the question had been asked numerous times and for which your answer was always the same: “Harsh words or deeds can demonstrate one’s love. Couples who fight the most, love each other most. What you saw was our distinctive way of bonding.” 

However, coming face to face with your confidante and most intimate friend, Jennie, you could not help but burst open and spewed up all the pent-up misery you had kept inside. She was in a state of shock still with the news of your marriage, especially with the man, that she was yet to have a proper rest after being newly returned from New Zealand. 

“It’s a long story.” 

“Keep it short then.”

“It was a dark and dismal night, a whip of lightning streaked across the sky and then came the rain…”

Jennie’s face numb and all, “Forget about the scene and cut straight to the point!”

“Here’s where the point begins, be patient, you…”

“Stop. My bad. Keep going!”

That night, your parents had not returned home. Because you were starving so you simply cooked yourself a bowl of ramen. Right when you were about to dig in, the front door was suddenly flung open. It was unlocked. And quickly afterward, witnessed a completely drenched figure barged into your house uninvited. Dripping water on the living room floor and dirty footprints as he stalked towards you with his face darkened similar to that of the Grim Reaper. 

You stared at him, stunned and had not realized that the noodles slipped from your chopsticks and created a messy pile on the table. 

“____, let’s get married.” Yoonoh uttered no unnecessary words and directly confronted you on the subject of marriage. 

You staggered for a moment or two before going to the bathroom and fetched a large soft white bath towel and tossed it over his head. 

“The rain must have seeped into your brain. Talk to me again after you regain your consciousness.”

He did not reach for it, nor ward it off, letting the towel collided with his face and fell to the floor after. “My mom had a sudden heart attack, the doctor said she couldn’t sustain any longer.”

Although speaking of a matter so horrifying and yet no matter how terrifying, there was no expression or emotion on his face at all. But you could see the underlying dejection and fear in his eyes. 

People always say, those who understand you the most, in fact is not your loved ones but your enemy. You and Yoonoh were indeed destined to be natural enemies, therefore you could pronounce that you grasped him mentally. 

So…

You agreed to him, because you knew, the last thing his mother wished for was to see him getting married, and hoping for her only son to be blessed with consummate happiness.

On the day of your wedding, his mother was seated in a wheelchair. She was both pale and thin, but on her white sick face there was no pain or torment instead of a blissful smile. 

The next morning, his mother was then left the earth. Unlike a newly wedded couple, your first night was not spent in the bridal chamber. Rather guarded through the night by her sick-bed, yet still unable to reclaim her lost life. 

Upon the day of his mother’s burial, relatives and friends had long dissipated though Yoonoh stood before her tomb, unmoving for a long time. In the faint drizzle, his lone figure appeared intensely glum and dispirited. 

As you moved to hold the umbrella above him, astoundingly, stream on stream of tears rolled down his face. It was ever since you were little to witness the cold, arrogant and wicked man crumbling in distress for the first time. In this lifetime, perhaps even only once, you did not have the courage to look, not wanting to look, nor bear to see. 

From now on, he no longer had a family in this world. What kind of sorrow could it be?

Albeit unintentionally, the reminiscences had been going on for an indefinitely long period of time. If it was not for Jennie who snapped you out of your trance, you were afraid that the events for the past three months would be recalled vividly to your recollection.

Jennie’s return from New Zealand was unbeknownst to her parents, in case they would show up early in the morning at the airport waiting for her. By the time she gone back home, the Kim’s were genuinely surprised, overly excited, and ended up preparing a feast. You were, undoubtedly, coaxed to stay over and had a sumptuous dinner with them.

With your belly filled, you left the Kim’s and returned home as well. Inside this large house spread over two levels, it was quiet as always and almost deserted. Besides you, there was no other. 

Yoonoh was always busy with work that it was close to inhumane, he returned home late at night when you were asleep, and when you woke up in the morning, he was ready to leave for work. You could only catch a glimpse of him and neither of you exchanged a word. 

After taking a warm bath and tossing and turning restlessly in your bed, you went down to the kitchen and made yourself some supper, deciding to treat Yoonoh as well. 

When you finished eating, you retired to the living room and sat back to watch TV while resignedly cushioning your small body into the soft pillows of the couch. Not realizing the time, you fell asleep just like that. 

Awakened the next morning however, every joint in your body hurt and your nape felt stiff as if bruised or sprained, your legs were numb and you did not dare to move a muscle. Your body felt as though it was not yours anymore.

*Click* 

It was at that very moment, there was the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. You bore the ache and twisted your neck to the direction of the entrance. Yoonoh was finally back.

Seeing as he approached, you immediately looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and sent out SOS. He did not spare you a glance instead his eyes swept over the table of a plateful and an empty dishes, coldy he said, “Why didn’t you clean it up?”

“……” Whatever.

“My legs are numb, lend me a hand and carry me to my bed.”

Hazel eyes slanted ever so slightly beneath ebony dark brows, narrowed and judging. “Can you be more decent? Do you not have a bed to sleep?”

Last of all, he was not willing to provide help anyway. He went to get a document in the study and headed out once again. 

You had to endure the discomfort and led yourself hobbling back to your room. Then you felt your head spinning and began sweating profusely although the weather gave you no reason to. 

The next thing you knew was you woke up in a hospital bed, sitting beside you was Yoonoh flipping through document or magazine of some sort. 

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and immediately felt the trickle of something wet from your nose. You jolted, thinking that it was blood and when you tilted your head down to expect redness on the white sheets, it only left a damp spot. You felt the dripping once more so you lifted your head in panic. A hand that was not yours, happened to be one step ahead and tossed a box of tissues to your side.

Pulling out sheets of them you wiped off the snot and then turning to him pitifully, pitiably. “How did I even catch a cold?”

His brows scrunched together and warned, “If you ever sleep on the couch again then don’t sleep on the bed anymore. I’ll move the couch into your room.”

“……”

The dramas, the novels; when a woman made supper for her man and fell asleep on the couch while waiting, even catching a cold because of it, in that case would not the man feel touched and guilty, and even showed pity and care for her?

But why was it when it came to you and Yoonoh, resulted in a plot twist? Sigh. It was the reality after all.

“I’m hungry.” You gave up any attempt to explain further and changed the topic instead.

He tossed his phone over, “Order it yourself.”

Then, utterly indifferent, you took his phone, brushing off any fat hopes you had for him. At least you were kind enough to order his portion as well.

Of course, he paid for the food. 

Catching of common cold was not such a big deal other than infusing drips of IV into your vein, but it did consume quite some time therefore when you were discharged from the hospital and returned home with Yoonoh, it was about 10pm at night.

Two plates that was once left on the table were already gone. Yoonoh chucked the package of prescription cold medicine over the couch and went upstairs to run a bath, while you were sitting on the couch watching TV. You were kicked back to your room the moment he came out after he had had a shower. 

Yes, you and him slept in separate rooms. The two of you had never been under the same blanket ever since your wedding day because your marriage meant nothing more than a show. 

You both had clearly understood that this marriage existed in name only. Even though his mother had passed away, you still had to keep up the pretense before others and could not get a divorce just yet. 

That was because your family and relatives did not know about the truth. When Yoonoh said he wanted to marry you, your parents agreed unhesitantly. 

As for the reason that you readily accepted him, besides being voluntary, it was also for the reason that…

Yoonoh had always been the pride of the neighbourhood, came through with flying colours in his studies and had received numerous awards. Looking all handsome and picturesque, he was an exceptionally well-behaved child in every way.

After graduating from university, he started a business and became the CEO of his own company. Whoever’s parents from a decent family background would not want to marry off their daughter to an outstanding son-in-law as him?

After taking two tablets of your medication and putting away your mug in the kitchen, it started raining heavily outside. Immediately you made your way upstairs to shut the windows. But, as you walked down the stairs, you remembered that Yoonoh had no umbrella when he left in the morning so you ran upstairs again, changed your clothes and picked up an umbrella as you headed out.

Once you reached his building, you called but he had not picked up so you waited outside instead. As autumn weather set in it commenced the approach of cool weather, even though it was just drizzle, it was cold. That was probably because you had not fully recovered, you sneezed only at the touch of a little breeze.

At a few minutes past five o’clock, most of the employees had left for the day however there was yet a sign of him.

You called his cell phone. Again, nothing.

Around five-thirty, you were contemplating whether or not you should go inside when he finally showed up. However tagged along next to him was a woman dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. 

Certainly you knew the woman, and needless to say, she was Yoonoh’s sweetheart—Park Sooyoung.

When did she come back from overseas? Judging her stance, she must have darted to his company as soon as she got off the plane. 

No, perchance, Yoonoh could have picked her up from the airport and brought her to his company straightaway. 

He saw you, and his brows scrunched slightly in what you could not comprehend the perplexed expression in his eyes. You considered for a moment the gaze that would give you an inkling. 

You walked towards him, arm outstretched, “Mr. Jung, here’s the umbrella you’ve ordered, thank you for supporting Gmarket. It’s our pleasure serving you and we certainly look forward to doing that in the future.”

The furrow cleaving his brows deepen, the gloominess in his eyes suggested the forecast of his outburst. 

You kept the customary smile fixed on your face, indisputably shoving the umbrella into his hand. “Please give us a five stars rating if you’re satisfied with our service. Your support is our motivation. I’ve orders to be delivered so I’ll leave you two alone then.”

With that being said, you scampered off. Yet merely a few steps away, your nose tickled and worked up a loud sneeze. 

You were of a weak physique which had to do with your menstrual periods. It was winter when you first had it. You did not know any better and forewent appropriate preventive and protective measures which resulted in having a cold womb, consequently a poor body condition. You were more tended to commitment than anyone else in the aspect of taking medicines or injections. 

You changed your clothes on the return and laid in bed for a few minutes then, Yoonoh was back as well.

You listened for any stray noises downstairs and wondered why did he even come home so early? Shouldn’t he be catching up with his old flame? Suddenly the door pushed open and Yoonoh stepped inside with a glass of water which he sat on the nightstand next to your bed. 

“Take your medicine,” he said in a commanding tone. 

“I did.”

“Really?”

You fumbled with the aluminium strip and explained as you pointed the hollows, “It’s taken three times a day, two pills at the same time. I took once last night before I went to bed, once this morning, and once this afternoon. It’s evening now so I took another. Look, there are eight little holes, just about the four times I took them.” 

He went silent for some time, “Drink the water then.” 

“I’m not taking any pills, why should I?”

His face went a shade darker than it already was, registering annoyance and impatience, “Drink more warm water to recover quickly.”

He couldn’t possibly cared about me, could he? But his face said otherwise. 

You lifted the glass and blew across it before taking a sip. As a token of appreciation.

For a few minutes, there was silence. No one spoke a word. 

The warmth of the glass radiated through your hands as you clutched it. You hesitated to say anything. But then, you asked a question that you should not have asked. “She probably didn’t know about our marriage, did she?”

Whether he may be feigning ignorance or not, he questioned back, “Who?”

“Sooyoung!” As soon as it left your mouth you regretted them. 

Beyond doubt, his facial expression changed to that you could not tell if he was shocked or grew alarmed. 

“You know her?”

You mentally rolled your eyes, how could you not? You and him were both from the same high school and it was not all that rare you saw him sending her back home, ate together in the canteen and also tutored her in the library.

“Oh, she was our high school’s beauty queen, how could I not know her?” You were faking it.

It was as if he had a flash of remembrance of the fact that you were, indeed, from the same high school as him. He nodded and hummed. 

Tch, tch! Sooyoung was not even our high school’s beauty queen, it was Jieun!

It had been a year since Jennie left Korea, afterall she was born and raised as a legit Korean, eventually her lifestyle still bore traces of her origin. At those times she was in New Zealand, she was skinnier than she once was and spent less money on clothes than she once did. Which pretty much gave her the reason to go all crazy shopping and challenging the possibilities in an unlimited credit card. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just take it as a wedding gift.” And she did not miss the chance to pamper you as well. It was not like you could object her intention anyway, but it would be better if she stuffed your pockets with cash than buying you that overpriced piece of denim skirt. Just saying.

At some point in time, you underestimated her energy after all the walking and shopping, she was livelier than you were, who was already flopping on her king-sized bed like a dead fish. She pulled at your arm, practically dragging you up to a standing position and forced you into slipping on the newly bought skirt. Then she began dolling yourselves up for her #mirrorselfie and uploading it to KakaoStory with the caption: Couple look with Wifey! It’s been awhile! ♡

You could not help but giggled lightly. It was like you were back to college years once again, where in the dormitory reenacting roles in historical dramas and addressing each other by Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness and My Lady. So you left a comment: Thanks Hubby for the gift!

No longer after the post was reacted by your old classmates and friends. You scrolled through the chains of comments until you reached the bottom, where you surprisingly saw a comment from the one and only Jung Yoonoh. 

What? That lad even comments on social media now? Is he out of his mind?

That replied though, he was definitely out of his mind. It was only a single word, and the word that women hated the most: Ugly.

You contemplated for a moment, had you wanted to fire back at him. However just when it was about to send through, a surge of brilliance stopped you and reminded that all your basic needs were benefited from the saint, you had to mind your words and not to offend the lad. 

Another day of scrounging dinner at the Kim’s, it was only eight when you returned home. The first thing that greeted you was the sight of Jung Yoonoh sitting on the couch with a towel wrapped around his waist and a laptop perched on his lap. 

“Oh? You’re early today!” You said to him while switching into your pair of fluffy room shoes.

His long, lean fingers walked and leaped across the keyboard and he did not lift his head to look at you. “This is my house, do I have to report it to you when I come back anytime?”

You rolled your eyes but wisely held your tongue. You were about to make your way upstairs to freshen up when he called after you, in which you turn to him as you tried to keep the annoyance off your face, “What?”

“Make dinner.”

“No, I already ate.”

“I haven’t.”

“Go make it yourself then!”

Finally, he lifted his head and the look of impatience painted over his face. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“What does that have to do with me?”

He barked, “That’s what women supposed to do!”

You roared back, “Ask Sooyoung to make it for you then!”

After you spoke the hasty words, you regretted them. 

You both instantly went silent. A fraction of a minute later, Yoonoh closed his laptop with a loud *smack* and turned to go upstairs. 

You stayed rooted to the spot, feeling a strange, distressing internal conflict. In saying so, didn’t you just indirectly tell him that you knew there was something going on between him and Sooyoung?

You took a shower and sat in your room, towel drying your hair while listening for any sound of movement from downstairs. Assumably he would make dinner for himself since you refused to, however, there was no sound at all.

Your hair was half-dried, and in the end you were not able to continue being hard-hearted so you pretended to go downstairs to fetch a glass of water and, in coincidence, walked past the kitchen. But there was no silhouette of Yoonoh.

Your mind immediately relived the time where his mother held onto your hands so dearly and exhorted you to take good care of Yoonoh, words about handing over her only son to you and some sort as he could not take care of himself well. For the sake of his mother, you made him a hearty meal. 

It was nothing fancy, just basic home cooking of the most you could do. Then you went upstairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer. You knocked again. No answer. With your patience wearing thin, you scolded behind wooden door, but even so there was no response. 

Is he seriously being ridiculous right now? How old is he? Five?

You took the spare key to his room, opened the door and switched on the lights, but there was no one inside. So you went to his bathroom. Saw none. Rounded his study, still nobody in sight. 

This jerk, he couldn’t possibly went out when I was in the shower?

A sudden unanticipated disappointment filled you, then it slowly grew into grievance. Without a second thought you dashed downstairs and dumped platefuls of hot food into the bin. 

While washing the dishes, a slippery plate slid from your hands from harsh scrubbing and dropped to the floor where it shattered into pieces. 

You felt worse than before and your intelligence plummeted as your mood did that you picked up the wreckage of the plate with your bare hands and in the process you accidentally cut yourself.

You had no idea if it was because of the excruciating pain or the oppression you had gone through, tears streamed down your face at such an intensity that you thought you were walking in the storm. 

Next day when you woke up, inside the kitchen sink there still remained unwashed dishes, glass shards still littered the floor, there were still blood stains, and Yoonoh still had not come home. 

He probably had a feast last night, right? A man like him that wouldn’t have to trouble himself, how would he be left to starve, right? Moreover, he would’ve spent on Sooyoung as well, a fancy candlelight dinner even! Pft. 

Whether Yoonoh was throwing a tantrum, or had he already became fed up with wherever you were, ever since that night of bickering, he had not been back for three days. And there was not even a call from him. Though he got on your nerves all the time and you disliked every bit of him, you worried about him. It was inevitable.

In the end, you could not hide your concern and went to his company in search of him. Found out that he had went on a business trip and would be back by a week. 

Right when you reached home, you were informed that your parents flew over from Ulsan. When you went to pick them up at the airport, the two oldies kept glancing over behind your back, you knew what they were up to but much to their regret you had to tell them, “Stop looking. Your dearest son-in-law went on a business trip. He couldn’t make it.”

It was only then they held back their bulging eyes which almost popped out of their sockets. 

Wheeling their suitcases and walking a few steps behind your parents, you breathed a silent sigh…

You and Yoonoh had grown up in the same neighbourhood where your doors faced each other, and eventually developed a strong bond between both households. You were always at each other’s houses when little, Yoonoh was an only child and his mother had always wanted a daughter, but his father had passed on at an early age and his mother refused to remarry as well. And because you had always scrounge for free meals at the Jung’s, his mother then claimed you as her own child. 

Even if Yoonoh was discontented with your regular visits, he could not utter a single word of complaint before his mother. However behind that, he called you shameless for doing so. 

But you, avoided all costs of verbal dispute and resumed chomping down the cookie that his mother gave you where he had none, was enough to drown him in suffocating anger. 

It was as if he was putting on a revenge on you that he showed up at your house as well for good food. Though he had a better understanding than you in pleasing the adults. He would wash his dishes and put it back in the cabinet, while the kids in your family would just throw everything aside and skipped away for cartoons. Which explained why your mother adored him more than her own seedlings. 

He needed not to munch on cookies, merely the way your mother compared you all to him was enough to trigger your bunch of siblings. 

Yoonoh had already been a bad-tempered boy when he was born. Besides his mother, practically no one was in his line of sight. He frequently bruised the kids in your neighbourhood and even though those adults told their children to stay away from him yet you were not afraid of him at all. 

Though he did not like you any better, he would never hit you. Because you were not dumb like others to always get to his bottom line. Contrastingly, in a corner, you would throw pebbles to whoever he was fighting with. However every single time those wicked losers would come over his house with their parents seeking for justice, and it was unavoidable for Yoonoh to be punished by his mother. It be kneeling in repent and some spankings.

You had always wanted to tell his mother that it was never his fault, instead it was the others who had thrown awful insults at him. But often when you were about to speak up, his death glare immediately shut you up, as if he would pounce on you once a word left your mouth. 

Over time when one another grown a little, the kids in your regional neighbourhood were humorously defeated not only in terms of stature, but his personality, modesty, gentility, excellence in education, as well as his outstanding looks. Whereby the kids no longer had the guts to provoke him to anger, and would not want to pick a fight on him. He did not bother about those disgustingly dirty kids who played marbles on the ground either way. 

It was truly despondent that you were still unpleasant in his eyes. No matter what, as long as you were involved in even the tiny littlest thing that, unfortunately, he caught on to, he would mock and ridicule you about it. 

And of course, unlike the others in your neighbourhood, you would not change your perception towards him just because of his transformation, regardless his exceptional qualities, he was still the Jung Yoonoh who seeks revenge for the smallest grievance, the Jung Yoonoh who was short-tempered. 

The past was of such flash-like episodes, yet in your childhood was all about Yoonoh’s, his forbearance, his incisive wit, his irreconciliation, his courageousness, his senselessness, and many many more, even of the simplest recollection of the past, it was limitless. 

Apparently your parents were not here with the prime intent to see you, it was your nephew who recently got admitted to the hospital so they were here to pay a visit. And it was only then they remembered that you and Yoonoh were in Seoul as well so they decided to drop by along the way.

Even if they dropped round your house for awhile, it made you wary of the current situation where you and Yoonoh were seemingly in a cold war. Yet your parents chose the wrong timing. 

You tiptoed into the bathroom and made a call to Yoonoh while your parents were not looking, but you were left wondering what was the point of him getting a phone if he never answered. 

Just in case, you sent him a text, and to be honest you had no expectation of a reply. But as soon as it was transmitted, the lad called you back. The tone of his voice did not sound so good as he began. 

“What do you mean pretend?”

“Well… I…”

“I was on a business trip in the first place, don’t make it sound like I’m you.” He was making an oblique reference to your parasitic lifestyle. 

The contents of your message were:

So here, the current situation was that you had a request to make to him, so you passively accepted his humiliation and refrained from biting back. While he was still on the line, hurriedly you stepped out into the living room. 

“Hello? Jung… Yoonoh, you must be tired, aren’t you? Did you eat well and get enough sleep?” In order to have your parents believed that you both were truly and madly in love, you spoke in a voice so soft, so gentle. 

However the jerk he was saw it as a chance to poke fun of you, “You think that I’ll have the appetite with your voice sounding like that?” 

You had really wanted to scold him for it but your mother came to you and reached for the phone. As you handed it over, you did not miss the chance and indicatively cleared your throat and said, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

Then, you heard your mother murmured abstractly. Unsure of what Yoonoh said to her, just that she was glowing brighter than a rainbow trout if you had not noticed.

You dug in the refrigerator and pulled out ingredients for dinner when your mother barged in and snatched away the kitchen knife and shoved the phone back into your hands. “There’s nothing for you to do in here. Get out and have a nice talk with your husband.”

With the phone clutched in your hand as you stomped into the living room, your father was seated comfortably on the couch reading newspaper, while for that someone over the line, you were lost for words. 

To be frank, there was nothing you could talk about with him!

You did not say a word, he did not sound like he was going to, you both were quiet for a little more and lastly you were the one to break the silence. 

“Oh? You’re having a meeting? Alright, I’ll hang up now. Yes, yes. I’ll take care of mom and dad, don’t worry.” Without hesitation you ended the call. 

Ever since you got married to Yoonoh, it had been awhile since you had eaten your mother’s cooking, it was what you missed the most. As soon as you hung up the phone, you skipped into the kitchen to snatch a mouthful or two but once again your mother kicked you out.

There was some time before dinner was ready so you went upstairs to take a shower. However it was never to your expectation that, during the interval of having a complete shower, another being showed up downstairs in the living room. 

With surprise at what you saw, you stood atop the steps for a moment. Rubbing your eyes as to confirm the reality of his presence, you stumbled over and questioned him in disbelief, “How did— back— here?”

In normal times he would definitely be lifting his chin in an arrogant sneer, “This is my house, why do you even care?”

But thankfully he was humane as he spoke before your parents, “Mom and dad came to visit us once in a while, how could I not be back?”

Your father was undeniably moved and said, “Work is important, we’re here for a short while only. Don’t let it interfere with your job.”

A gentle, harmless smile was still on his face as he spoke, that for a second you almost forgotten his true nature. “Don’t worry, dad. I’ve arranged everything before I came back.” 

“That’s good.”

He sure was a great actor. 

Your mother used to be the head chef of a restaurant and therefore it had become a practice to prepare a table of food of a vast variety. 

Yoonoh courteously pulled out a chair for your mother and seated her at the table, then it was as if he was out of his mind, he went round to pull out a chair for you as well, acting like a complete gentleman. 

During dinner, your mother occasionally picked up a morsel of food and filled his bowl but never once for you. Right when you were stuffing rice in your mouth in nothing but insane jealousy and doubting if Yoonoh was her biological son instead, the man with the surname Jung picked up a piece of meat and put it in your bowl, then added, 

“Honey, eat a lot. You’re getting thinner!”

*Intense choking*

You were not expecting that and surely were taken aback by the intimate form of address. The grains were on their way down your throat as you started choking and coughing and sputtered on like a useless engine. With your tear-filled eyes, you went to fetch a glass of water. After a few sips and a bit more coughing you calmed down again. 

All the while you glared at him but he pretended as if nothing ever happened and continued his ministrations of apple-polishing your mother. 

It was kind of late when dinner was over. Your parents had been visiting at your aunt’s for the day before hopping to another stop at your house. You understood that it was beyond tiring for the elders of nearing fifty years of age so you made them stay for the night. 

You did not forget to evaluate any changes of expression on Yoonoh’s face, after all he was the homeowner. It was to your consideration that if he did show a slither of unwillingness, you would take it as an excuse that the guest room was yet to be organized and cleaned up and tagged along your parents to stay at the hotel. 

Though you never thought that he was sensible, there was no sign of disapproval, yet with greater fervour than you when he insisted your parents to stay for the night. Which he even said how the house was desolate and quiet with just the two of you and it was then finally the household was liven up. 

Your parents were easily persuaded in that case, there was a moment’s hesitation before agreeing. However you suddenly regret with the idea of their stay, because your mother broke into a wide grin as she eyed your belly, “You two should work hard while you’re still young. Very soon you’ll have a jolly time.”

Simultaneously you and Yoonoh were drowned into awkwardness and your eyes drifted towards one another for a second. 

That night, it was like your parents were truly heading for the goal of giving life to this dullsville, they strongly disagreed to your ‘aabb’ rooming system and insisted upon ‘abab’. There was no room for discussion even though they were supposedly the guests and then you and Yoonoh were forced into the same room. 

You looked back to the door that was slammed shut behind you in total despair, something within you was stirring. The heck, why does this feel so awkward?

To conceal your agitation, you ignored his presence and glanced around his room, scanning everywhere. Honestly, though you were three months married, on the fingers of one hand you could count the number of times you had entered his room. And those times were no longer than a minute. 

You did not expect his room to be this simple and… bare. Not in a way that the finishings were improperly done, his room was basically decoration-free. 

A desk was set directly before a large floor-to-ceiling windows, a nightstand by the bed, a book sitting on top of it, two wardrobes occupied the other end of the room. Other than that, there was not even a small-sized pot of air purification plant. 

It was monochromatic and painfully neat like a hotel suite. Was it to him that just a place to sleep?

On the east was the ensuite bathroom. Yoonoh was already disrobing himself as soon as he got in. You knew that he wanted to take a shower, which he clearly was not implying anything else, however…

“Can you— Can you go inside to change…” You could feel your face burning crimson. Even though you were cool with anything and brazen all along, it did not mean that you would not be shaken up when a man openly put up a strip show before your very eyes. 

Yoonoh cast a careless glance in your direction, his hands that were unbuttoning his dress shirt paused with the job half done, his face demonstrating the slightest bit of hesitation as if he too, realized that it was inappropriate to take off his clothes in front of a woman. 

Nonetheless, Jung Yoonoh who was haughty and high-minded in the extreme as ever would never yield to you either way. His moving hands that stopped for no more than ten seconds began undoing the buttons once again. 

“This is my room. I can take off my shirt wherever I want.” As soon as he finished pronouncing the last word, the garment slid off completely and showcased his milky skin, physical strength evident in the muscles of his forearms, lines that ran in to his waist and then down over the cut of his hips, thick ridges sculpted his abdomen. 

It was unbelievable he had such great physique. He must have gone to the gym often. 

Your body, your face burned still more when you heard the unmistakable metallic clinking of a belt being unbuckled. Immediately you whipped your head away from him. 

After all the scuffling of Yoonoh removing every article of clothing in existence, he stepped into the bathroom. Only when the door swung shut with a loud swoosh and clicked closed you dared to turn around. Subconsciously taking a peek over the pile of clothes on the floor, it was purely accidental you saw a pair of navy Calvins.

This pervert, how dare he stripped naked and not even be cautious that you might turn around without warning?

When Yoonoh was finished he emerged with a towel wrapped around his hips. Not even once he spared a glance in your direction as he headed to the nightstand while drying his hair with a smaller towel. He picked up the only book and took a seat on the chair by the large windows and began reading in leisure. 

You were still stood in the same spot, still contemplating whereto your feet should set upon. Truthfully you were already feeling drowsy. Yet, in spite of that, you had not had the nerve to climb onto his bed. There was only one bed in his room, other than that you could sleep on, you had no choice in the matter. 

He kept no extra blankets in his room and could not even make up a bed on the floor. You felt unsettled and perturbed inside, you riddled with anxiety over him fixing you up for the night. Well, you were definitely overthinking it. Thought the kind of person Yoonoh was would be aware of your existence? Dream on. Until his hair was dried, he climbed into the bed, giving absolutely no thought at all to where you were going to sleep. 

The weather had been very cold for several days, had on your thin clothes, your skin broke out in goosebumps for being exposed to the chill air. There was no way you were going to stand there forever waiting for a miracle. On what basis you were to bear the freeze while he was sleeping so comfortably on the warm bed? Being therefore thick-skinned from the thought of injustice, you proceeded to climb into the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket over your shoulders until you were cocooned in its warmth. 

You were pretty sure that Yoonoh would pick on you and you had a ready comeback for that. With every second that passed, however, his eyes were fixed on the book as he flipped through the pages before he switched off the bedside lamp, slid under the covers and went to sleep with his back turned to you. 

You were faced with the floor-to-ceiling windows, the curtains were opened and the bright city lights of Seoul looked like fairy lights in a distance. You attempted to distract yourself with the view and trying to actively suppress the feelings of nervousness. The more you suppress, the more they erupted with volcanic force and your heartbeat increased threefold. 

For it was the first time in your entire life, to share a bed with a man. The man was Jung Yoonoh and most importantly… he was completely naked. 

Your face flared for the umpteenth time that night. You squeezed your eyes shut with all effort to keep your mind from wandering far and wide, across topics best ignored. The world fell to a blank, dead silence but it was strange, unusual. As if there was a significant heat radiating from his body had seeped through that you felt yourself heating up even more in response. You wiggled your way upward, getting ready to lift the thick covers—

“Move again, you’re getting off.” Yoonoh growled suddenly and you were too scared to stir around by then.

After a brief internal struggle, sleep finally claimed you without knowing yourself when or how, but it was not the peaceful sleep. You began tossing, turning and shuffling the covers trying to get in a comfortable position. Abruptly, you felt something warm and soft which gave you an illusion of your fluffy white throw pillow. You reached over and hugged it tight, nuzzling into the puff of cloud and blissful contentment permeated every cell of your body. 

However, it seemed like it was getting warmer and warmer, like an electric blanket on a cold December night. Your skin burned and stung. You wanted to lift off the covers, but strangely, you found yourself unable to move. 

At that moment, you were sure you were sleep paralyzed, which you had experienced a couple of times during your life so it was not new, but even so it felt unusual. You had only felt numbness throughout your entire body, you could not open your eyes. Or speak. The weight crushed on you this time radiated the heat of boiling mercury, and there was something unknown that tunneled beneath your shirt. 

[geewithluv]

ESOTERIC [one]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞ Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS, Bang PD, members of Seventeen & BlackPink) Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, slight angst Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, mentions of terminal illness, death, drug addiction, and injuries as a result of violence. Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ：3.6k ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

Why is the parking garage so far away? This was a question Kit Briar and most staff at the hospital had asked after every shift. She pulled her jacket tighter around her as the wind started picking up. If the shuttle between the hospital and garage were more consistent she would like to think she would take it. That wasn’t a given though, some of her co-workers were a little too friendly and out-going. She rolled her eyes as she sees an unfamiliar car on the first level where only the staff is allowed to park. It was usually someone with a less than urgent concern insisting that they were justified in their parking while they argued with a tow truck driver on why they ignored the clearly labeled signs.

 The surprise came when she saw a couple of men smoking cigarettes, leaning up against the dark SUV. She reaches into her pocket, grabbing her keys between her knuckles, surprised she had walked all this way without doing so. A deep breath to calm her nerves as she nears her car. She hears some mumbling from the men before they start walking. She picked up her speed wishing she had parked closer, wishing she had waited for the shuttle, wishing she hadn’t taken this shift, wishing-- “Kit Briar!” Her heart dropped to her stomach as she turned around, she’s not actually sure why she did. Maybe she knew there was no way escaping two men who clearly knew her, maybe she hoped it was someone from high-school or college that she hadn’t seen in a while, maybe an old friend of her brother’s or of her parents’. 

It wasn’t. Of course, it wasn’t. She looked into the first man’s eyes and she was sure her trembling body was shaking the whole parking garage at this point.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want but I don’t have anything.” She takes a small step back, gripping her keys tighter in her palm, sure she was only hurting herself at this point.

 “Well, it’s been a while hasn’t it? Since your dad stopped bringing you around.” The guy laughed as he raised the brim of his baseball cap. Kit wasn’t sure if the feeling in her stomach was more worry or surprise.

 “Hoseok.” She said softly and she wanted to collapse onto the ground, her legs threatened to give out. “Wh--what are you doing?” She didn’t know if she wanted the answer.

 “Looking for you.” He said simply, his hair was a lighter shade of brown than she remembered.

 “Well, I realize that…” She sighed, removing her hand from the grip on her keys and tightening her ponytail. “But why are you looking for me?” Both guys look around them before motioning her to continue down the garage. They walk on either side of her and she realizes the other guy is Taehyung, who she also hadn’t seen in a long time.

 “Hitman wants to see you.” Taehyung explained, taking a long drag of his cigarette, she refrained from scolding him on this habit. She’s sure he already knows, and she’s sure he doesn’t care.

 “Why?” She leaned against the hood of her car.

 “Various things.” Taehyung seemed to be comfortable taking the lead on the conversation, something that would’ve been atypical a decade ago.

 “Please don’t be so...avoident.” Kit begged.

 “He wants to--needs to--talk to you.” Taehyung spoke as Hoseok drops his own burning death-stick to the ground, putting the small flame out with his shoe.

 “He can want to, or need to, talk to me all he wants. But I’m not meeting with him. I have nothing to say to that man. My ties to him died with my father.” She stands up, pulled the cotton fabric of her shirt back down, and moved to unlock her car before her arm is yanked back by Hoseok. “Please don’t do this.” She whispered, unsure if it was to either man, herself, or whatever high power may be listening.

 “We’re not prepared to take no for an answer.” Hoseok kept the firm grip on her arm.

 “Well, you need to become prepared. I’m not a child anymore, we aren’t children anymore. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions. And I will not be meeting with Sihyuk Bang.”

 “Either you willingly follow us, or we put you in the back of our car and take you.” Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. Even as a teen, Taehyung had been able to intimidate her, and many others, just by the look in his eyes which is why he was such a valued asset to Bangtan. As an adult, the effects were even stronger.

 “Fine.” She yanked her arm back from Hoseok’s grasp and unlocked her car. Letting out a huff when she notices Taehyung’s eyes brighten again and his signature smile, still the same as when they were school-aged.

 “Don’t do something stupid.” Is all that Hoseok said, almost begging, before he and Taehyung start walking to their own car.

  It’s hardly 8 o’clock yet it’s practically pitch black outside. The darkness is even more pronounced by the bright lights at the large estate that houses Bangtan at least a mile from the main road and a solid 5 miles from the nearest street light.

“You took that big oak tree down?” Kit motioned toward the now empty piece of land she had once found so much joy in.

 “Didn’t have much of a choice.” Hoseok shrugged, she didn’t ask why. She didn’t want to know. Taehyung opened the door and the smell of the home is still somehow so familiar to her, all these years later. Her feet start moving her toward the living room but both men stop her, knowing she’s moving on autopilot.

 “We’re going to his room.” Taehyung kept his voice low and ignored the confused look on her face. She had never been in the leader’s room, she’s not sure anyone who wasn’t about to have sex with him had, and even then some of the higher paid women had only gotten to the living room. She shuddered at the thought.

 “Fucking finally.” She heard a sigh and meets the eyes of the eldest, Seokjin. He gave her a small smile, trying to comfort her, before opening the large wooden french doors leading in the main bedroom. Kit isn’t quite sure what she expected from the room. But she wasn’t expecting to see the man she had feared all her life sat up in a king-size bed with more tubes going in and out of his body than she had seen on patients at the ICU. He has multiple IV’s in his arms, oxygen filling his nostrils through clear tubes, a pharmacy worth of prescription bottles sat on his nightstand. He’s paler than she remembers, paler than she thinks she’s ever seen a living person. A soft beeping of a heart monitor fills the room. 4 other men, 4 former friends, stand in various places in the room.

 “Kit, you came.” His voice is rough and shaky. She felt bad. She felt so bad that one of the most feared men in the city was tied to his bed. She felt bad that for once in her life she wasn’t scared of him.

 “They didn’t give me much of a choice.” She tried to be stern. She failed to be stern. Even if she wasn’t fearful of him as much as she was when she was 10, she’s still scared of talking back to anyone and she’s positive every guy in the room has at least one weapon on them.

 “They follow directions well.” He laughed, or tried to, before coughing harshly. “What do you want to know first, what I’m dying from, or why you’re here?”

 “I could look at three of those bottles and figure out what you think is wrong. I doubt you actually sought out a professional because I can tell from here that none of those bottles have your name on it.” She sighed before continuing. “Why am I here? What could possibly be so urgent? I’m a nurse, not a doctor. I cannot save you.”

 “I don’t need your medical expertise. I need your interpersonal expertise.” Kit is silent for a while, trying to figure out what he’s referring to. He’d always been a little vague, assuming you’d figure out what he meant but boasting in having to explain it to you. She remembered the trait well.

 “You can’t possibly think that your parents just joined this lifestyle and prospered by chance. They were naturals. And you are too.”

 “You think I’m a natural-born criminal?” Kit scoffed.

 “In more words or less. Jimin--” he coughed “--hand me that book.” He pointed toward a bookshelf that had no need to be so large considering the lack of literature decorating it. Jimin obeyed, handing him a leatherbound journal. He was taller than she had remembered, in fact she was hardly sure it was really him. Before she can fully relish in the view of this man she hadn’t seen since he was a boy, Hitman continued. “It’s your father’s. You’re not easy to reach, you know?”

 “I like to keep it that way.” She said, her voice softening as she grasps the journal, feeling the soft leather in her hands as she recalls how often her father had written in it. The pages were seemingly endless. She opens it to the page bookmarked by the thin red ribbon attached to the binding.

 My lovely Kit is way too smart for her own good. Marianne is worried about me bringing her around Sihyuk. Kit notices way too much, she’s like her mother in that way. She’s too aware of the world before she’s even hit her teenage years. She got into a pocket knife collection this morning and quickly learned a few tricks, much to her mother and I’s surprise and concern. She’s very skilled, but I don’t think Marianne would take well to me saying that. I’ll stop bringing her around once school starts back up. She’s close to some boys that hang around. They’re a couple years older and take care of her well, but they’re getting into this life now. She’s just a baby. Only 12 years old. I can’t believe she’s 12 already, but that’s a conversation for another day. She needs good friends and she needs a life outside of the Bangtan estate. She’s destined for great things, whatever they may be. Maybe it’s running the country, maybe it’s saving the rainforests, maybe it’s running a group of dangerous criminals. Whatever it is, it’s going to be great. Just like she is.

-Gus

 Kit hardly noticed her eyes flooding but quickly blinked the tears away as she closed the book, meeting the unwavering eyes of Hitman. She moves to hand the journal back to the elder who simply shook his head. “It’s rightfully yours.” He said.

 “What do you want from me.” Her voice cracked.

 “I think by now you know I’m dying. I don’t have a lot of time left. And not nearly enough time to properly train any of these guys.” Kit looked around the room, quickly meeting the eyes of each of the 7 men.

 “What does that have to do with me?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

 “Jimin will be taking over.” This was a shock. Kit was sure she remembered their birth order and Jimin wasn’t nearly the eldest. A lot must’ve happened since she last saw Bangtan. “But, as much trust as I put in him, he’s not ready for this alone. You’re a stable, clear-minded, person. I want you to assist leading Bangtan.”

 “Oh no, you have to be crazy.” Kit let out a loud laugh, shaking her head. “You’re fucking joking.” Her voice softened as his expression doesn’t change, still as stern as ever. She hopes he’s had a sudden bout of facial paralysis. 

 “I’m not one to joke.”

 “Absolutely not. Thanks for the offer, I guess,” she scoffed, “but you must be brain dead if you think I’m going to do anything to help any of you.”

 “I had a feeling you’d say something along those lines.” Hitman sighed, clearing his throat and with a little help from Jimin and Yoongi, he adjusts in the bed. “Your mother is still,” the man hums in thought, “worse for wear.”

 “She’s dying. Don’t sugarcoat it. I’ve had more than enough time to become okay with the fact that my mom is dying.”

 “I’m afraid I’m not at the same place.” He grumbles. “My point, though, is that there are many treatments available. Many highly skilled doctors all around the nation who are more than equipped to provide better care to Marianne.”

 “She’s getting good care.” Kit finds herself tenser than she had been just a few minutes ago. “Are you not aware that my mother is a patient at the hospital I work at?”

 “But it could be better. We both want her to get the best care possible.”

 “You’re really trying to offer the possibility of my mother’s survival in exchange for me joining this...whatever this is?”

 “And Oliver.”

 “My brother is perfectly--”

 “Don’t lie to me, Kit. My guys are well aware of your brother’s current lifestyle. He’s a consistent and high paying customer, as much as that hurts to say.”

 “I don’t think it hurts you at all.” Hitman sighed in response to the quip, Kit wasn’t sure if it was from his physical pain or if he actually felt something thinking about her brother’s addiction.

 “A bed at a highly reputable rehab can be easily arranged. Your mother, your brother, and yourself will all be made very comfortable in exchange for your help and cooperation.” A silence fills the room. Kit closes her eyes as she finally nods, not wanting to look at the man as she agreed, or at any of the 7 other men in the room watching her every move.

 “Okay.” She whispered, knowing he wanted a verbal agreement, she was sure he probably had recordings going at all times. A nod means nothing. She knows this well.

 “You’ve always been so very intelligent.” Kit opens her eyes to see a seemingly genuine smile on the bed-ridden man’s face.

  It takes a mere 3 days before Kit really had to confront her new life. 3 days before it’s no longer just some information being thrown at her by Jimin and some of the other boys. 3 days and she answered her door to see Jimin standing on the welcome mat outside her apartment.

 “What are you doing here?” Kit’s face was expressionless as she blinked, having just started to doze off in the middle of a show she was only moderately interested in.

 “Bleeding and bruising, are you going to let me in or not?” Jimin huffed.

 “Why are you bleeding and bruising?” Kit is now more awake than she thinks she had been all day as she moves aside, closing the door behind Jimin and locking it.

 “Why didn’t you say your apartment was annoyingly close to Seventeen’s territory?” Jimin slumps down on the sofa, making Kit cringe at the thought of any blood staining the light grey fabric.

 “Because I have no idea who that is, and if I did it probably wouldn’t have come up in conversation.” Kit crossed her arms before walking into her bathroom. 

 “I am one hundred percent sure I have mentioned those fucks to you at least a dozen times. They are our rival group. Do you even listen to me when I’m goin--”

 “What injuries do you have.” She yelled out, cutting him off, as she grabbed a first aid kit and a couple of other supplies from around the bathroom.

 “I don’t know! The painful kind that come from getting jumped.” Kit swore she could hear him rolling his eyes and staining her couch, but when she comes back into view he’s standing in the middle of her living room with his shirt off.

 “Nevermind?” She hummed, looking at the ink on his torso.

 “Wha-- oh. I forget I have that thing.”

 “I would too.” She sets the box down on her coffee table. “Who gets ‘nevermind’ tattooed on them? And in that font?”

 “I’m not here to discuss my tattoo choices.” Jimin scoffed.

 “Why are you here? Why were you coming to my apartment that’s ‘annoyingly close to Seventeen’s territory’ anyway?”

 “That’s not the point anymore so could yo-- fuck!” He nearly screamed. Kit was all too familiar with that scream.

 “Don’t be a baby, I’m just cleaning the cuts.” She tutted.

 “Well a little warning would be nice. Don’t you warn your patients?” Jimin grunted.

 “You’re not a patient, you are an unwanted guest, a pest if you well. I don’t warn spiders before I kill them.”

 “I have a hard time believing you kill spiders. You either coo at them or scream until they run away from you. If anyone is a baby here it’s-- you bitch!”

 “You’re not a baby, you’re a pussy. I haven’t actually done anything, you’re lucky you don’t need stitches. I’m lucky you don’t need stitches.”

 “Are you done yet?” He narrows his eyes at her.

 “No other wounds?”

 “No.” He rolled his eyes, reminding Kit of all the times her mother scolded her and insisted her eyes would get stuck if she kept doing it.

 “Really? Cause I’m looking at a couple on your face right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

 “Does it make me look badass?” A corner of his mouth quirked up. 

 “It makes it look like you got jumped trying to stalk my apartment.” She folded her arms over her chest and now it was her turn for an eye roll.

 “You talk a lot of shit for a girl who almost had a panic attack looking at a gun.” Kit’s jaw tensed remembering how Jimin laughed at her just 36 hours ago when he brandished his weapon.

 “You talk a lot of shit for a guy who nearly cried during Neosporin application. Let me get that one on your cheek.”

 “Fine, but it’s not a big deal.” He ran his fingers through his thick dark locks, flinching for just a moment at the sudden jolt of pain from his shoulder.

 “It could get infected or something.” She moved his face while holding his chin and looked over the cut. “Since when are you this tall?” She murmured as she shuffled closer.

 “Shoes add an inch or so.” He shrugged, flinching slightly at the pressure on his cheek.

 “No wonder you lost, you were wearing heels.” She joked.

 “Who said I lost?” His eyes widen before a look of confusion paints his structured face.

 “Are the others okay? Should som--”

 “Don’t worry about them.” Jimin quieted her as she lowered her hand from his face, deciding that it’s thoroughly cleaned and coated with an antibiotic.

 “My job consists of me worrying about other people's well being and trying to fix it.”

 “They’re not good people. They deserve everything they got and more.” His face scrunched up at the thought of anyone, especially one of his own, trying to help a member of Seventeen.

 Kit’s eyes widened with the realization of his words sinking in. “Do they know you came here? Do they know where I live? Are they going to--”

 “Don’t stress yourself out. I’m not dumb, and I’m not going to let any harm come to you.” Jimin took her hands into his. Floods of memories of her when they were children come back, including the massive crush he had on the girl, now a fully formed and beautiful woman.

 “Promise?” Kit’s voice is soft and almost pleading.

 “Goddamn, you really are so innocent.” A breathy chuckle escaped full pink lips as he shakes his head at the girl, gazing into her bright eyes. The seriousness is evident on Kit’s face. “I promise.” He whispered, knowing she wouldn’t take anything else for an answer. “I promised you over a decade ago that I’d protect you. I keep my promises.”

 “I should put this stuff back.” Kit sighed looking down at her coffee table, but she didn’t move. Jimin placed a hand to her cheek before moving to tangle his fingers in the thick curly strands of hair falling out of her ponytail.

 “Jimin…” She muttered, meeting his unwavering gaze, his eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher before he closed his eyes. Her’s doing the same as his lips press gently against hers. His lips closed around her bottom lip when she doesn’t push him off. Kit savored the slight metallic taste that dances on his tongue with the bittersweet taste of some drink he must’ve had before he came over. Jimin let his other hand slip under her shirt to rest on her lower back, pulling her closer. He surprised himself, keeping the slow pace of the kiss, letting the moment last and lovingly linger. When they pull apart, Kit spoke again. “I don’t know if that was a good idea.” Kit didn’t look at him, instead, taking more interest in the pendants of his necklaces hanging between toned pectorals. 

 “There are hardly ever good ideas. Some are just better than others.” He placed his hands on her cheeks and made her look at him.

 “Didn’t know you were such a philosopher.” She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

 “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, kitten.” He said using his childhood nickname for her though it seemed more intimate now at 23 than it did when she was 7. This was real. She was really back with Bangtan and everything it entailed.

▂▂▂

End of Part One. I hope you liked this. I’m planning on 6 parts as of right now. I have 3.5 done so I’m not 100% sure. Thanks for reading!

[everythingxoblog]

everything.

I was working one day, and a boy came in for an interview, already wearing his white polo which i thought was silly. He didn't have the job yet but he came in wearing his uniform. He was so handsome. His hair cut perfectly, his beard groomed so well, he smelled incredible, all the time. (Blue Nautica, i still wear it to this day.), His smile was everything. His eyes were the type you could just stare into and get lost. And the little wrinkles underneath his eyes would pop out when he smiled real big.The moment i saw him, i hoped he would be hired for our store. He was. I was excited. Although i was married, he was nice to look at, he was funny, and he seemed so perfect with his flirtacious ways. I looked forward to my shifts with him. We all got to know him and bits and pieces of his story. He was living at pathway, the sober home for boys. He told us about his drinking problem, and how proud of himself he was for being sober now. That is admirable in my  eyes. The efforts to better your life and overcome an addiction is a great thing. Even more of a turn on, for some reason. There came a point where the flirting got more serious. We made a group chat called "squad" with me, him, and another employee/my best friend. It was an innocent thing at first, just pick up lines, flirting, sending pictures in our underwear, never too revealing. He would compliment me and her, and it made us feel good. I wasn't complimented by my husband, i wasnt given attention anymore. I craved it, and this boy gave me exactly what i was looking for. Eventually we started seeing him out of work. He came to a birthday party for my best friends child. He was so good with all of the kids. Mine as well. He was so good with her. I took videos of him playing with her, teaching her how to blow a flute and bubbles. The joy i captured in these videos was amazing, and i still have those videos to this day. That is one thing i can't bring myself to ever get rid of. I remember standing with him outside my car after the party, and our innocent flirting made me so happy and feel so good. This man was perfect. Over the summer we did so much together. From going to Litz almost daily, to hanging out in my friend's apartment, we would stay out all night sometimes. The flirting got really overwhelming between us three at one point. I didn't want to cheat on my husband, even though i knew i wasn't happy in my marriage and didn't want to be with him. I told this boy flat out he would be better off getting with my friend. So he did, that same night. I remember knowing that he was going over there, and i was a mixture of jealous and upset for sure. But what right did i have? I was married..and i told him to go for it with her. They did. The next day i picked her up to go to the mall, and at first she told me nothing happened. It wasn't until we got to the mall that she spilled all the details to me. She and him did hook up. But, he made her promise not to tell me, because he didn't want me to know. She was a good friend to be truthful with me. As for him, i was salty towards him. "Friends dont lie" was our saying for a while. We went to Litz that day and i couldn't help but be rude as hell to him until he admitted it to me. He did, and i let it go because again, i told him to do it. We went for ice cream together that night, and he bought my daughter her first ice cream cone and boy, was it messy. They shared a shake, i took pictures of that too. I loved watching him with my Daughter. It gave me hope that maybe i could still be happy, without her father. He and I hungout alone next. We brought my daughter to gilman. We had so much fun, and trust me, i took pictures then too. So did he. See, thats one thing i really loved about him. He would always capture beautiful moments between me and my daughter. Something nobody else has ever done, and still doesn't to be honest.  When i dropped him off to his sober house, he kissed me. It was amazing. It felt RIGHT. and when we finished kissing, the guy that runs the house was right at my passenger window, watching and waiting for us to be done. How embarassing, right? Yet i drove away with such a big smile. Since then, our relationship kept growing. I loved it. He would always send me cute songs, and i would send him songs back. That was an all the time thing for us. Anytime we thought of eachother, wed make sure the other knew. Out of all the songs, we really stuck to "The way" by Mac Miller and Ariana grande. I loved it, especially because those are my two favorite artists. He had a ton of love for Mac Miller and Ariana Grande. Did i mention he bought me a ticket to see Ariana Grande for my birthday? It was an incredible experience. We started spending every day and night together. I would hangout hangout with him, then id drop my daughter off to her father and go back out for the night. We would always have a good time. I remember we were in my friends parking lot for HOURS, listening to music, playing Uno, shooting these cool things in the sky that would glow. I wanted to show off and do some gymnastics..so i stupidly, took off my shoes for some reason, and did a round off barefoot in the parking lot. I broke my foot that night, but that  didn't stop us from going to price chopper while im hopping sround on one leg because it was probably midnight when i broke my foot and didn't want to go to the hospital. Price chopper was our spot. We even had our own spot we would park. It was 24 hrs, so we would just go play hide and seek in there. We would sit in the parking lot for hours, and just talk and kiss. It felt so right. He was perfect. He was everything i ever wanted. Eventually, he moved onto a new apartment for sober boys. He had his own room and more freedom then. So, i helped him move in. I organized all his things, all his clothes, i got him comfortable there. It was now our spot. We would go there, lay in bed and tell each other stories about ourselves. He told me about his alcoholism, and how he was arrested once because he gave his mother a ride and she had heroin in the vehicle. He told me how she was an addict, and how much he hated heroin and thought it was disgusting. I agreed. Heroin is a drug i can never understand. Why would anyone ever want to shove a needle in themselves and risk dying every single time? It makes no sense. And he agreed with me. He told me that his sister basically took care of him. He loved her. He would always tell me about her. To this day, i would have loved to meet her. We tried once, but i will get to that part. I left my husband september 2nd. I knew what i had with this boy was real, and i was so happy. Happiest ive been in so long. It was a hard, and lifechanging decision i made. I now had to move out of the house we bought, i had to leave all my stuff behind, including my dogs. That killed me. But i knew it was the right decision. I was unhappy for so long, and this boy showed me that there is more to life, and that i didn't have to settle. It was hard for a while, i was scared for a long time. I'll admit, i did go back and forth between my husband and him for a little while. But i knew what i WANTED, and it was him. It was always him, from the second he came into my life. There was so much about this boy that i loved. He was the best, and i truly mean that. He was always there for me. He worked three jobs, and still made time for me. He seemed to have his life together, and i could see myself building a future with him. Things started to change, but they weren't even really big changes. So i thought nothing of it. He stopped working his third job first. But who cared? He still had two jobs. He was still great. He used to spend a lot of money on scratch tickets, that was a big addiction of his. But he would ALWAYS WIN! I swear he had the best luck, he would win $500 so often it was crazy! Another addction he had, was shoes. Ive never seen a man have so many fricken shoes. He was a pretty boy, and ALWAYS looked and smelled so good. I loved that. Sometimes i feel like we were together forever, but looking back, it was such a short time before things started going wrong. He had these pains in his stomach, so i sat with him at the hospital while he was monitored. They gave him morphine to ease his pain. And he ended up getting a few prescriptions. Nothing crazy, they didn't give him any opiods or anything. But the night after, he called me. He sounded fucked up. He wouldn't like, speak to me. The things he was saying made no sense at all, and he sounded very out of it. I asked if he smoked weed, he said no. I asked if he drank, he said no. He said "the lady on the bike gave him some pills" and i was crying, begging him to tell me what he took. Eventually after screaming and crying his name, he snapped back into reality. He swears he never did any drugs that night, but i know how he was acting. I didn't think much into it, probably because i didn't want to believe he would do something like that. I held a grudge for a couple days, and id always randomly ask about that night, hoping one day he would tell me the truth. He never did admit anything about that night. But i know. He didn't really have any more of those episodes. But he started telling little lies. To me, i feel that everyone lies about something at some point. There are so many things i should have noticed, but i didn't. I'm always going to be mad at myself over it. There were signs. So many signs. And i didn't notice them, until it was too late. He started letting his hair grow out more than normal. He stopped shaving as much. He stopped buying scratch tickets. He lost his second job, and was down to one. It started at the end of september. September 28th, 2019. I went to hyper glow with my friends, and he hungout with a mutual friend, who was a heroin addict. At this point, i still was under the impression this boy was just an alcoholic, so i didn't think much into him hanging out with a junkie. I was wrong. I shouldn't have encouraged him to hangout with the guy. I did. I did that. And i'll HATE myself forever for that. I didn't know yet, but what i'm about to explain next, is the beginning of the truth being exposed. I was at work. So was he. And another coworker on shift with us pulled me aside and asked me what was on his neck, and mentioned that lately he has been acting as if he's on drugs. I didn't even notice his neck. I grabbed him and looked, and i asked what it was. He went from "Its an ingrown hair" to "It must be a zit"..He was very defensive about it. Now, i was worried. How was everyone else noticing these things, but i wasn't? I finally made the decision to reach out to his sister. What she had to say, was something i never expected, and i can still feel the pain, shock, and heartbreak i felt that afternoon. She explained he has been a heroin/crack addict since he was a teenager. He has struggled with addiction his whole life. He was never an alcoholic. How did i not know? How could he lie to me SO much, so in depth? I was shocked. I don't think ive ever cried so hard. My perfect boy was not perfect at all. It was all a lie. EVERYTHING. I confronted him. He tried denying, but he knew i knew the truth now. To be honest, i dont think he's ever told me the truth first time around. I have to keep asking the same question over and over again until he finally tells the truth. Some things even now i don't know if it was true or not. I made the decision to help him. I tried to keep him sober. I did everything. I was with him all the time, really. I kept a close eye on him. So i thought. I seemed to not realize the weight he lost. He had nice love handles when we first started hanging out, he had meat on his bones.  He stopped eating actual food. He was only snacking. I didn't notice. I didn't notice he lost weight, because i was with him 24/7. Thinking back, boy was he so skinny. There were times that he wouldn't answer his phone, and i would panic. Was he okay? Did he relapse? Is he dead in his room right now? I have no way to get up there to save him. I was always terrified. I went to the heroin addicts house and got him to come check on my boy with me. He brought narcan. So, he KNEW that he was using. He knew what we might be walking into. He ended up being "Fine"..He just "knodded off"..which also happens when you do drugs. I was in denial. I wouldn't let mysel believe what was right in front of my eyes. Not yet, anyways. We continued our relationship. We would stay out all night, in the price chopper parking lot. Hell, we made it to planet fitness one night. That was the first night we had sex. We would go swimming at queen lake late at night, we would just drive while he sang to me. Boy i loved the way hed look at me and sing certain verses to me. He made me feel special. I think that overpowered all the bad, and that's why i chose to not believe what was happening. I understood why he didn't tell anyone he was a recovering heroin addict. None of us would have given him a chance. We wouldn't have looked at him the same. I don't blame him for lying about that. But, i blame him from keeping it from me once we became as close as we did. We had a different bond, a different relationship, and i thought we would be 100% honest with each other. October 25th, 2019. I got a message from his roommate. He told me he found him in his room, overdosed, and luckily his roommate found him in time to narcan him. He then stole this mans property and took off and sold it. Thats when i knew exactly what i was dealing with. He relapsed. He overdosed. He stole to get money, to do it again. How does one literally DIE from this drug, and still want to do it again and again? That part i'm never going to understand.  Why was ruining his life with these drugs a better option than me? We could have had a life together. We could have had everything. But heroin was more important. I kept trying. I tried for so long. There are so many things that he did to me that i can't even name them all. Like the iphone i gave him? He "lost" it. No. He sold it. I bought him another iphone for his birthday. Guess what he did with that one? Sold it. He got fuvked up and left his car in leominster at a gas station for days, that it got towed. $600 to get it back. Who paid for that? Me. I put it on my credit card. He said he would pay me back. Why was i stupid enough to believe that? I did everything i could for him. I really did. It was never enough. I sent him to detox 4 times..before he actually stayed in the program. I never knew what addiction was like. I never dealt with it. Ive never seen it as up close and personal as i did with him. It changed me. That's the whole reason im writing this. I am not the person i used to be. I am damaged. heartbroken. devastated. hurt. hopeless. mad. sad. frusterated. The list goes on. I feel like a failure. I wanted to save this boy. It was my goal. I tried so hard, i did so much, and he is still sick. It kills me. It haunts me every day. Should i have tried harder? Should i have stayed by his side? It's my fault he relapsed. I know it. He wouldn't let me think that way, but we both knew. If i never went back and forth between him and my husband, things might be different. I know that i'm not at fault for his relapse, but i know i had something to do with it. I will never shake that feeling. There are so many memories i have with him that are now triggers for me. It's like, everywhere i go, i think of last summer when it was us. Going to Litz is hard, because we would always have so much fun playing in the water or relaxing on the beach. We would go to the 140 car wash eally late at night, just to clean my car, to go get his car directly after and clean that one. My favorite video i ever took of him was there. It was such a simple video that wouldn't mean anything to anyone else. But the way he looked at me, and shut the car door, was just a feeling i'll never be able to shake off. He always looked at me like i was special. Like i was the most beautiful and important person, ever. That boy had me wrapped around his finger. He knew it. But to be fair, i think he was wrapped around mine too. He would do anything for me. I trusted him. I trusted him more than anything. That is where i fucked up. Times started to get tough, but i stuck by his side. I wanted to be the one to save him i guess. I needed to. It became my biggest priority. I knew where he was 24/7, because he was always with me. I knew what i was dealing with, to a point. He started needing to borrow money, and of course, i let him. Anything he needed, i made sure he got it, and he took advantage of that.  He ended up jobless. I remember the last day we worked at Dunkins, i was MAD. Mad that i knew what he was doing behind my back. I remember calling him a liar and fighting with him in the parking lot, we made a scene and people were watching. We were screaming at each other, and i punched him right in the face. He then went inside, and i drove off. You'd think that would have been the end of us, but it wasn't even close. We ended up talking again and things got "fine" again, i guess. I started to distance myself a little, but not much. Sometimes i think something was wired wrong in my brain. All these red flags, and i ignored them all. I continued to fall deeper and deeper in love, while being taken advantage of. But i felt NEEDED. I felt as if i was his ONLY chance at redeeming himself and getting sober again. I sent him to his first detox in the end of October, 2019. Detox is a 7 day program. I was at work on the 5th day, and i got a call from him. He needed me to come get him, he got "kicked out for fighting with someone"..i believed that. I picked him up. After that i realized he wasn't kicked out, he WANTED out. And he did exactly that. You can only assume he went right back to using, right? Exactly. Behind my back once again. But i knew. I ALWAYS knew after a while. I noticed the patterns. Yet i still stayed and did everything i could. We found him a place in Leominster to move into. It was a beautiful home. He had his own room, and bathroom, he was the only one living on the first floor. It was great, and it was a place i could bring my daughter as well because there was room to play. Stupid me, i know i shouldn't have brought my daughter around him. But he was NEVER fucked up around us. Yet, anyways. I would sleepover his new place every time i didn't have my baby. I would have to leave at 4am, so i could get to work on time because i opened, but i never minded waking up that early, because sleeping with him all night was worth it. Laying on his chest was my favorite. I couldn't tell you why, but i felt so safe. So loved. So cherished. I felt special, always. I can't leave out the part where i have to admit, our sex was incredible. It really was. There was one time, we had the most intense sex ever. Like five stars, INSANE, sweaty, every position you could think of. He was CRAZY that one night. Come to find out, he died and was narcaned that same morning. So i'm assuming it was mostly the adrenaline from cheating death, again. In me & his entire relationship, i know for sure of him being narcaned 5 times total. There could have been more times, definitely, and probably. But i only know of 5, and they were all fairly close together. Why? Why can someone die from this drug, AND DO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN? Why was i never enough for him? Why couldn't be stay sober? He could have REALLY died, and what about me? He never thought of how it would effect me. Heroin is probably the most SELFISH addiction. It makes me sick. After everything i've done for him, he still chose that over me. I started working at a bar. He would always come and sit there with me. I loved his company, truly.  He would sit there and drink soda like a good boy, and i knew he was safe because he was with me. It was when i wasn't with him, that i worried all the time. There was one night at the bar, i made really good money. I made over $100, so i cashed in my small bills for a $100 bill, then the rest $20s. I remember putting my money in my wallet. I had $40 in my car door to give to him for gas, cigarettes, etc. Money his uncle gave me for him, but i was in charge of his money, because his uncle knew what he would do if he had it in his possession. I gave himm the $40 from my car door, i am positive. We were sitting in my car and i let my guard down. What's crazy is he reached into my backseat, and sneakily took money from my wallet. He didn't know i had the $100 bill. He only meant to take small bills so i wouldn't notice as easily. I dropped him off, and he called me telling me i accidently gave him $100 and he was "doing the right thing" by calling me to return it. Then he claimed i never gave him the $40 from my car door, and it mustve fallen out of my car. He went with me all the way back to the bar to look for it in the parking lot. I knew i didn't lose or drop it. I knew he took it and he was trying to cover it up. I hoped when we got there that he would take the money from his pocket, drop it in he parking lot and "find it" and give it back. It was never found though. But, it was never REALLY lost. I let him play innocent and i just played along. I wasn't going to argue and keep calling him out when he refused to tell the truth. There were plenty of times he took money from me. You know, i had $200 worth of change in my car at work. Unlocked. Stupid, i know. I've worked there 5 years though, i knew my car wouldn't get broken into..until it did. He denies it to this day, but i truly believe he stole that money as well. When he needed his fix, he did anything to get it. I guess it's time to bring up the big one now. When he stole my card out of my wallet. I left my purse in my bathroom. I had him over, we were hanging out, trying to find a new program to go to since the one he was at didn't work out. This boy went to detox 4 times before he actually stuck it out, and completed what he needed to do. As i'm trying to help him get better, he's going behind my back, still. Screwing me over. It's November now when this happened. He took my debit card right from my own wallet. I never used that card. It was linked to my husbands account. He knew that, and that's why he took it. He didn't think i would notice. Until my ex went to go take money out to realize his account had been drained. I looked into it, and it was MY card that was being used in the ATMs withdrawing money. I knew it was him. I couldn't believe it. With christmas and my daughters birthday just around the corner, how could he  take so much from me? From him? From HER? An innocent child who he claimed he loved so much. I do believe he loved her. And me. I just think that he had to do whatever he had to do to get his drugs, and didn't care who it hurt or effected. I tried calling him and finding him, but i couldn't. He knew he was caught. I had no choice but to call the bank and shut the card down, and go to the police to file a report against him. End game for us you think? No. Our story didn't end there, I had him for multiple charges, and it i actually did a proper follow up, i could have had him locked up, and i could have gotten all my money back. Which in total, he took about $2000 from me. A smart person would have done that, right? Not me. I decided to give him ANOTHER chance to redeem himself. Go get help. Go into a program and STAY in the program. That's when he went to Washburn house. He did good for a while. I didn't get to talk to him much, he could only call at night, but i would always wait for his call. He finished his detox there and was in the second step of the program. I was proud of him. I was happy that he was finally doing the right thing. After a while, he decided that he didn't need the program anymore, wanted to leave and start his life over, again. He swore he would stay sober, because he wanted to be in our lives so badly. I trusted him. It was a day or two before my birthday that he got released. Yay! I finally got to see him again. I was so happy and so hopeful this time would be different. I have to admit, i have a big mouth. And everyone knew what he had done to me, along with everything he's been doing. The lying, the using, the stealing, everything. So at this point, none of my friends supported my relationship with him. He was bad. I knew that. He did bad things, yes. But, i knew him differenty than everybody else. So to me, their opinions didn't matter. He was everything to me. He still made me feel loved, needed, and happy. I hid my relationship with him. Only a couple friends knew what i was up to. For them, i am forever grateful. The support, the shoulder to cry on when things got bad, the advice yet no judgement. I needed it. To this day, i have a couple friends that still understand me and how hard this last year has been for me. There was a point i didn't think i would recover from this. I couldn't even hold myself together at work, because while i was there, especially saturdays, i would be miserable and cry. Why? Because saturdays used to be my favorte day to work. Because of him. The flirting, the sneaking in the walk in/freezer/back door to kiss. It was sweet, and sneaky, and i LOVED it. Without him there, it was all i could think about. Why couldn't things have stayed that way? Why did it all have to change and get SO complicated? Why did i have to end up so HURT and LOST in the end? Back to my birthday, anyways. He spent the day with me. It was good. I was happy. I had plans with my friends that night. We were partying, i had a whole party at the bar. He couldn't come because again, we were a secret at this point. Everyone hated him and he understood. At this point in my life, i will admit i may have had a drinking problem. Through everything he did to me and put me through, i needed to numb the pain. I spent a lot of time at the bars. I was getting drunk almost every night. It was a routine. He saw what he did to me. He realized that the girl who never drank, seemed to always need a drink now. I got trashed on my birthday of course. It was a great night and i loved every second of it. I kept texting him through the night, and i called him drunk when i got home. Not the first, nor the last drunk call i've made to him. I would always drunk call him a billion times until he would wake up and talk to me because at the end of the night, i only wanted to hear his voice. He would always talk to me about eerything and kept talking to me until i was ready to go to sleep. The day after my birthday was the day shit really hit the fan. I was hungover, obviously. I didn't feel good at all, and i was supposed to hangout with him. I bailed, and he was so mad at me. He was staying at a homeless shelter in fitchburg at that point and found a way to gardner so i didn't have to drive all the way out there. He sat at mcdonalds all day waiting for me, but i was not only hungover. I was coming to realize that i didn't want to be in a relationship i had to hide from everybody else i loved. If i was to be in a relationship, i wanted it to be with someone who could come around my friends and family. That was the day i decided to become distant. He freaked out, like really freaked out. I wish i still had the messages and voicemails. I felt bad, but i knew it was time to do the right thing for myself. That night, he checked back into washburn. He said he drank two nips to get them to let him back in, but i know he had money and could have gotten his heroin. I believe he did, even though he never admitted it. He's back at washburn now, getting help again. This time, he really stuck it out. He completed his programs. I Stayed in contact with him, because i wanted to know how he was doing and how his recovery was going. I would message him almost every day, some nights i would get phone calls. He was always there for me. Through all the bullshit my exhusband would put me through, he was always the one i would call and vent to. He always had the best advice and always made me feel better about whatever situation i was in. Now that we weren't together, i did meet someone else. At the bar, actually. He came in, and i was desperate to get over this boy. He was my rebound. But it didn't go as well as id hoped. He was a coke head/alcoholic. Why did i attract these men that need help? But don't want the help. I ended it with him, because if i was going to fix anyone, it would and will always be the boy that meant everything to me from the day he walked into my life. I never really stopped talking to him. He would sometimes try to ghost me because i would be "better off" which is not a lie. I would be. But i had an attachment to him that nobody could ever break. We stayed in contact. Always checking in on each other. Sometimes we would speak about being together again, though we both knew it would never be possible after all the things he's done. He got a job through washburn. He was doing GREAT. He was  starting to look at cars and apartments back in Gardner. He wanted to come back. I wanted him to come back, i won't deny that. I knew it would be hard for both of us, but i forever want to know what he's doing and i want to watch him become everything he has ever dreamt of. He had real goals this time. And he had every opportunity to get it all done. It kind of made me angry that he was finally going to get an apartment and do better in life, because i needed him to do that for me months ago. We could have been together, we could have had a good life. But at least he's doing the right thing now, right? So i thought. He was sending me all the apartments he was going to look at, and they were all really nice, and in Gardner. Which is what i wanted. I wanted him close. I wanted to know what he was up to and how good he was doing. I was excited for him. He got a car! I'm not sure how, because his red VW was repoed only like, 6 months ago? I know that because i remember the night it happened. We were at the Turtle, and driving home, he got pulled over and didn't have insurance. They towed the car, and i snuck him into my bedroom and he spent the night with me. I think that may have been the last night we spent together. He ended up giving up on the car because he had no money to get it out of the towing garage, no money to insure it, or pay for it. At that point, he hadn't paid on it in a long time. When he went into Washburn, i cleaned out his car. I took what i wanted and what i thought would be important to him. I saw all the narcan in his glove box. Along with SO MUCH CHOCOLATE. He told me once that heroin addicts live off sweets. Boy, they sure did. When i cleaned out his car, i kept his cologne. It was the scent that he always wore. I loved  it. I still wear it now. And i always think of him. The clean, well taken care of, good smelling, perfect boy i loved with my whole heart. At this point, i didn't know where that boy went. Now, i was just frusterated. Frusterated that i fell so har for him, changed my entire life for him, and this is how it ended up. Though, i will admit i am and will forever be grateful. This year, i have learned so many things. I have seen and gone through things that i never thought i would. I overcame things that i thought would tear me down and i would never be the same. Although it's true, i will NEVER be the same, i will always have a spot in my heart for him, but he's made it clear what's more important to him. I met up with him when he first got his new car. He was in the area, and asked me to show him where the waterfall was, where we used to go last summer. I met him, and had him follow me there. He and I talked for like 20 minutes, but it felt..different. But at the same time, i felt comfortable. Like nothing ever happened. He was clean now. At this time, 5 months sober. With a new car. A new job. Apartment searching. He was FINALLY doing it. I couldn't have been happier. But, he never got out of his car. I never got to even hug him, and to be honest, i don't remember the last time i was in his arms. I've tried to kind of blur out everything so i could try and forget. To heal. But realistically, there is no true healing from this. I'll never recover from any of this. But, i am smarter. I have learned. I have grown. And i wouldn't be where i am or who i am today if it wasn't for him. A week or two after i met up with him, i saw his car again. Where i saw it though, i PRAYED it wasn't him. I called him. No answer. I'm crying and panicking now. It was at the crack house that he used to spend all his time at when he was using.  He called back, after i drove by the car a few times. I knew it was his car. It had to be. When he called back, he claimed it was not him and he was on his way home from his sisters. I thought that was strange, considering it was a week day and his sister works a lot. When i drove by again, the car was gone. I reached out to his sister to confirm his story..He lied. No surprise. He's always lied. He was ALMOST 6 months sober. And there he was, back to his shit. Why would he put in all that effort and be SO CLOSE to having everything he's wanted? He threw it all away. I will never understand. He knew i was onto him, he knew his family was onto him, because i always reach out and tell his sister if i suspect anything or see anything. He ended up selling his cellphone, and going "missing"..I was a mess. Really. Knowing he is missing, and using again, he could be dead anywhere and nobody would know. The entire week he was missing, i looked for him for hours every day. I drove around Gardner so much, just hoping i'd find him or at least find someone who has seen him and knew he was okay. He finally posted on facebook that he was fine and checking himself in somewhere to get help again. I had a feeling that wasn't true. I hoped it was, but i think after everything, i know better. That is when i got emails saying someone was hacking into my accounts. Paypal, Venmo, my actual Email, etc. He started stealing money from me again. I tracked it back to him, because he was using his friends phone number, who is a known addict because i caught him lying to me saying he was with him a couple times, saying he was safe, when really he was just getting high with this guy right before i brought him to detox. I tracked the number to his friend, then tracked the number to the address. You'll never guess what the address was? The crack house he loved being at so much. Then i started noticing his car. He would park in different places, but close enough to walk back and forth to the crack house. He knew what he was doing to me again. I'll never understand why he would take from me..when all i've ever done is try to help him. Check up on him. I really thought we had a special relationship, a bond, i thought that him and i would always look out for eachother. But he was still out to fuck me over. I drive by his car every single day now. It's on the main road i take to go everywhere. It's literally 5 minutes from my house, if that. And what KILLS me every day, is that i know he's in there. I know what he's doing. I can't do anything to stop him. At this point, it's a waiting game. I believe you can only cheat death so many times. He has done it a lot, and i worry every day that i'm going to get that call or message that he's gone. I don't think he's coming back this time. I think this is it. I believe that when i get the honor to meet his wonderful sister who has been there for me through all of this, it will be at his funeral. I know i can't save him. I know he has ghosted his family, because he is ashamed of himself and doesn't want them up his ass. This is the life he has chosen. And it is such a shame, because he really has the most beautiful soul, he's a wonderful person, when he is sober. I will never be okay with any of this. I am not coming to terms with anything. I hurt, every single day. The whole point of writing this was to get it all out of my head, so try and heal a little bit. As this comes to an end, i have to admit that i don't feel any less heartbroken. I'll forever think of him every time i drive by that building. Everytime i hear certain songs (there are a LOT of songs that remind me of him, some seem as if i wrote them myself.) Everytime i go anywhere we made a memory, he will forever be in the back of my mind. This will stick with me for my whole life. I know that. So, to the boy that stole my heart the second he walked into dunkins... I hope you always know how much i have cared and loved you from day one. I hope all my efforts to help you, fix you, support you, meant something. I hope my drunk phone calls made you giggle and feel special because it was you i wanted to talk to all the time. I hope you meant everything you said on your list of things you loved about me, because i meant EVERYTHING on mine. I hope you regret chosing heroin over me. I hope you regret stealing from me time and time again. I hope you are ashamed of yourself and how you let the demons take over you. I hope you turn your life back around again, but i won't hold my breath this time. I am preparing for your death, but when it comes, please know i will not be okay. At all. But, you chose this. Nobody wanted to see you end up this way. Your family, your friends, me, we all were routing for you and so proud of you. I wish you were stronger. I wish you fought harder. I wish you didn't give in to the temptations. You could have had a beautiful, happy life. You would have made an amazing husband/father one day. I will never understand you or your choices. I will never regret you. I may never forgive you, but i pray for you. I pray you read this one day, and feel what i feel. And i hope that maybe it's enough to save yourself before it's too late. Nobody can save you but yourself. xo * (so cool) *

[spartanguard]

sick of love (3/3)

Summary: If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more?

CS Soulmates AU | Rated M | 10.6k | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | AO3

A/N: LAST CHAPTER AH. I meant to have this done sooner, but I didn’t get much writing done at camp—so here we are on Friday! It ended up much longer than anticipated, but this is where it earns the M rating. I hope this was worth the wait, and thank you for sticking with it!

As stated before, this story was inspired by this tumblr post. Thank you again to the organizers of @cssns for putting on this awesome event and to @sherlockianwhovian for making that AMAZING art up there!

Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

More wrong than any other time in her life. 

That first night after the collision on the train, she got drunk on Sam Adams and blamed that on why the barrage of text messages from Killian mysteriously disappeared from her phone.

By Thursday, Henry had asked why they hadn’t yet had dinner with Killian that week. “Because you have school now, mister,” worked as an excuse.

And thankfully, she managed to hide her sigh of relief when Killian wasn’t at dinner at the Nolans, supposedly because he was called into work.

Halfway through the next week, Henry asked if they had a fight or something. “Yeah, or something,” was her lame, mumbled response. “It’s an adult thing.”

That was enough to get him to stop asking questions, though he had plenty of comments after the following Friday’s dinner—she decided that would be the best time to track her latest skip and dropped Henry off to stay with Snow and Dave for the night, and her resolve hardened when she saw the Chevelle in the driveway.

“You know, Killian seemed kind of mopey,” Henry told her when she picked him up the next morning. “Kind of like he did when we first met him.”

“He just gets like that sometimes; maybe it was something at work.”

“Maybe; I dunno. It seemed different. He says hi, though.”

He’d said more than that in the texts she kept deleting. Though those were usually something along the lines of Please, Swan—just talk to me.

What she wouldn’t admit was how much those broke her heart.

She wanted to; she really did. She missed him, dammit. But that would mean acknowledging whatever had passed between them as something real, that the whole idea actually had merit, and she wasn’t ready for that level of anything yet. She wasn’t even ready to kiss him, for fuck’s sake; even the title “boyfriend” held more weight than she was ready to carry.

And part of her still was in denial, sure that she’d imagined it because of that little romantic part of her that wanted something more.

She’d learned long ago to ignore that small voice, and she could shut it up again.

She didn’t do soulmates.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

A couple more weeks went by and fall arrived—her favorite. She wrapped up in a scarf on that first day, inhaling the chill in the air and making sure to stop for a pumpkin spice latte. Part of her wondered what kind of scarf Killian was wearing, if he even had one on—and then the rest of her put that idea to rest. 

His texts became more sporadic; she never saw him on the train. He hadn’t been at Snow and David’s the last couple weeks and apparently had been stuck on the night shift for the last month. She was getting better at not thinking about him, but her mind generally wandered in his direction without her realizing it had.

There was a near run-in a week ago at the Chinese place; she saw his name on the receipt of the bag next to hers, and never paid so quick in her life. But otherwise, she’d been Killian-free for a month and was feeling just fine.

See? Nothing to worry about, she assured herself. Maybe in a couple more weeks, she could seek him out again, apologize, and they could carry on like that scare never happened.

But that thought got delayed when she came down with a cold a few days later.

She had a headache that wouldn’t go away and was tired a lot more than usual. The kitchen lights seemed especially harsh and there was a lingering bit of nausea that never quite sent her running for the toilet, but was definitely annoying.

“Are you feeling okay, Henry?” she’d ask every day, checking for a fever and his skin for any clamminess. She just needed to touch him, to make sure he was okay; or maybe she was being clingy because he had just started middle school.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he’d say, shrugging her off. “Are you?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Part of her wondered, when the nausea continued for a week without abating, if she was somehow pregnant again. It felt a lot like the early stages. But immaculate conception had only happened once, to her knowledge, so she had probably just picked up the flu somewhere.

She tried to power through it—even going on desk duty at her bail bonds firm (which she rarely, if ever did), but then her hands started cramping up from all the typing and kind of stayed that way. And good lord, that was terrible coffee in there, but she was so parched that she’d take it. She complained about it to Snow, who gave her a sidelong glance that fell somewhere between pitying and knowing, but amazingly gave no lecture. She just gave her a box of rose-flavored tea and a hug. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d been sick in Henry’s lifetime—no one had that good an immune system—but she felt terrible that it was putting her so out of commission (in addition to, you know, feeling terrible).

“What kind of flu did you give me, kid?” she asked, voice hoarse, when Henry brought her tea in bed on her birthday. 

“Maybe it’s something worse, Mom,” he said, and she could see how scared he was. “Maybe you should go to the ER?”

Cold dread washed over her at the mention of the place (or maybe it was just a chill resulting from the recently developed fever; it was hard to tell). “No; I’m not that bad,” she promised, despite how awful she sounded. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll go to urgent care.”

There was one on their block, but she didn’t even have the energy to walk that far. Just getting to her car was draining. Her hand struggled to cooperate with the pen while filling out forms, which included firmly checking the “no” box next to the question asking if she had lovesickness. She had the flu—that was it. 

(Not that lovesickness had any true treatment; even at hospitals, all they could do was put a person on an IV of fluids and pain killers until it was done. So there was really no point in an urgent care even asking. Jerks.)

The doctor asked the usual questions—symptoms, how long she’d had them, and a whole bunch of other stuff that was already on the forms—before actually reading what was on the clipboard, squinting, then looking up at her skeptically. “Are you sure you don’t have lovesickness?”

“Positive,” she snapped back. 

He gave her another incredulous look, shook his head, and wrote her a prescription for a generic antibiotic—which was all she needed, she was sure, and not the judgment of some two-bit doctor with bleached hair. 

She felt better the next morning, after medicine and rest; good enough to go to work, so she started to get ready. See—she’d been right! It was just a bug. Nothing crazy or earth-shattering, just a run-of-the-mill thing. 

Or, at least, that was her last thought before the world turned on it’s axis and she passed out on her bed. 

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

“Emma, are you sure I can’t take you to the hospital? You passed out, for crying out loud!” She could always count on David’s brotherly instincts to border on paternal. 

“I’ll be fine; I promise. I just need to ride it out some more.”

David huffed, clearly not pleased with the situation. She wasn’t thrilled with it, either, but she wasn’t fit to be Henry’s mom until this thing had ran its course, or the antibiotics stopped making her dizzy—whichever came first. Henry was the one who found her unconscious, though she roused quickly; but it shook him enough that she didn’t want him around while she was still this sick. She’d never forgive herself if she got him sick, too. 

“And you’re sure it’s just a bug?”

“Yes! Oh my god,” she rasped out, though it didn’t sound as convincing with her weakened voice. “Go! Have fun! Make sure he gets to school on time, does his homework, et cetera.”

David sighed again, but she could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he’d relented. “Alright; but make yourself some tea and get some rest. We’ll check in on you—no complaints. And if you don’t answer your phone, we’re coming to get you.”

“Fine,” she huffed; that was fair. Henry shuffled out from his room then, with an overstuffed duffel. For a moment, it reminded her of being a kid and her entire life fitting in one of those as she was moved from home to home; her eyes watered at the memory, but she—and Henry—knew he had a home to come back to; this was temporary. “Be good for your aunt and uncle,” she told him, and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead (which seemed a lot closer to chin than it had the day before).

“I will. Please get better soon, Mom,” he said, worry in his voice and his big brown eyes.

“I will. I promise.” 

She couldn’t get worse, right?

Why did she keep saying that? Famous last words, no doubt. 

Because she’d hardly settled on the couch after they left before another wave of vertigo struck and she nearly spilled her tea (of course, Snow had sent another box over). Though it might not have been that bad if she had, because she was also feeling awfully chilled, despite having two fleece blankets draped over her. (If she just gave it an hour, she’d be dealing with a manic hot flash instead.)

But this was better, she knew—Henry would be looked after and she’d be able to heal without anyone bothering her. And it was kind of nice having the apartment to herself for a couple days; that didn’t happen often.

It got dull fast, though. And quiet, oddly enough, even though she was able to watch whatever she wanted on Netflix (Henry hated Outlander; she didn’t).

It was...lonely. Again. Possibly more than ever in her life. It was one thing to not have anyone, like she had when she was a kid. But now that she had people—David, Snow, Henry...Killian, she had to admit—the solitude felt bigger without them there.

And, really, she had no one to blame but herself there. Old habits die hard and all that. As much as she tried to tell herself it was better if they weren’t around her germs, she could also really go for a hug right about now; wrapping her arms around herself didn’t quite cut it.

But this was her bed (well, nest of blankets on the couch) and she had to lay in it until this all passed. At least she had Jamie and Claire to distract her.

So she pulled the blankets a little tighter around her and settled in.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

The next few days passed in a haze of tea, takeout, and the Scottish highlands, though she had to rewatch multiple episodes due to her worsening state and the fact that she kept passing out in the middle (always right before the good stuff, annoyingly). She managed to reply to all of David’s messages fast enough to not cause worry on his end, but that was almost all she had energy for. Bless whoever came up with Door Dash.

And she wasn’t just tired in general—she was tired of being sick. How much longer could one body take to fight off...whatever this was? It had been nearly 6 weeks, all told. The antibiotic script ran out without taking the illness with it. The tea helped a bit, but getting as far as the kitchen to make it was a challenge with the nausea, vertigo, and tunnel vision she was fighting against.

Thank goodness she had an escape on the TV. 

(There were a few strange instances, though, where her foggy mind twisted Jamie’s Scottish brogue into Killian’s accent; and damn did their blue eyes look similar, even if the rest of them didn’t. She may have had a couple of vivid dreams along that line, though.)

But then Jamie and Claire both got lovesickness in season 3. And art started imitating life a bit too much for her liking.

Annoyed, she turned off the TV and pulled herself up from couch so she could shuffle into the kitchen and get more tea.

Fucking Outlander. Fucking sassenach. Fucking soulmates. Fucking lovesickness. Fucking Killian.

Not that kind of fucking, though.

Wait, why did her train of thought go there?

Trains...soulmates...lovesick...Killian.

Dammit.

She shook her head as she plopped down on the floor of her kitchen, still wrapped in blankets while waiting on the tea kettle. That was probably a burned bridge, if she was being honest. She hadn’t heard from him in at least two days, so she had to assume he’d given up; it wouldn’t be the first time someone did that to her, but it was probably the most deserved. Try as she might, she still hadn’t forgotten what happened on the train, and she still had no logical explanation for it...save for one.

The kettle was starting to hiss but she ignored it. Had she overreacted? In an effort to avoid what she’d feared for so long, had her own stubbornness and walls just pushed her right into it? Was she really in the same position she’d just seen on her screen...was she lovesick?

A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts, though; it was probably the pizza delivery. She wasn’t even really sure why she’d picked that to order, though it probably had something to do with Killian being on her mind. It took some struggle to pull herself up off the floor, her stiff muscles protesting each movement, but she managed to get upright with only a minor amount of vertigo; maybe she was getting better, after all?

There was another knock. “I’m coming,” she tried to shout, but her voice could only go so loud. As fast as she could manage—which wasn’t very—she limped to the door, brushed her hair behind her ears in a weak attempt at looking presentable, unlatched the lock, and opened it.

But she wasn’t greeted by the smell of dough and melted cheese, or by an annoying teenage delivery boy—no, that was taking its sweet time, as usual. Her heart actually stopped for a brief moment, because on the other side of the door was Killian.

And he looked as awful as she felt. 

“Emma,” he breathed, a faint smile pulling at his weary features, but it faded fast as a cough took over and nearly rattled him off the door frame he was leaning on.

“Killian.” She nearly choked on his name. “How...how did you find my address?” They’d somehow never been to each other’s places.

“David,” he answered. Normally, he would have shrugged, but it probably hurt too much right now. Like her, he had dark circles under his eyes and sheen of sweat on his forehead that his hair was clinging to. He had on a pair of scrub pants and a black sweater under his usual leather jacket, under which his chest was heaving after no doubt climbing the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Oddly, he didn’t have his prosthesis on. “Can we please talk, finally?” 

Even the blue of his eyes was faded, and that was probably what broke her the most. She nodded and stepped aside, leaving a wide path for him to come in.

He stumbled in and she pointed him towards the couch. “Tea?” she offered, trying to be a good hostess.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he fell against the cushions.

As she poured the tea, she didn’t let herself think of the implications of him being as sick as her. Her walls started to go up and she began to rationalize—he probably picked it up at work; god only knows what kind of stuff he was exposed to there. Maybe she’d gotten it from him when they had their collision?

Very carefully, she moved into the living room and set his mug down on the coffee table, before gently sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “So, you pick up a nasty virus in the ER?” she started, then took a sip.

He cast her an almost annoyed look before reaching for his cup. “I think we both know that’s not the case, love.”

“You don’t know that,” she murmured. “It could be anything.”

He took a sip, then stared at the tea in disbelief as he swallowed. “Where did you get this?”

Now she was the one confused. “Snow; why?”

He snorted derisively. “And it makes you feel better, right?”

“A bit, I guess.”

“Emma, don’t you know what rose tea is for?”

What the heck—did he come over just to fight? She’d understand if he was angry about her ghosting him, but to be so combative? Her hackles were rising. “No, I don’t, Doctor Jones; enlighten me.”

He cautiously set down the mug and then scooted a bit closer to her; she reflexively tried to melt into the arm of the couch. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but said to ease lovesickness.”

She shut her eyes and turned her head. That couldn’t be it—it just couldn’t. Whatever personal revelation she’d been having before his arrival had ran away, buried under her blankets and armor where it belonged. 

She didn’t do soulmates...right?

“You can deny the truth, love, but that won’t make it any less real. And like you just said, I’m a doctor—I know what’s going on. Has anything else helped?”

Not opening her eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t know if she could handle whatever emotion was likely simmering in Killian’s gaze.

“Just what do you think happened on the train that day?” he asked softly, though it didn’t sound like he had another volume.

“I don’t know—maybe we said it under our breath,” she tossed out half-heartedly.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Well, what if I don’t want it? What if I don’t want the universe telling me who’s right for me—what if I want to be chosen instead?”

Despite their dulled color, a spark of fire ignited in Killian’s eyes. “What are you calling the past few months, then?” he spat. “I don’t know about you, but those were some of the happiest of my life, and it was all because of you and Henry. I want to be chosen, too—you know that. But you can’t tell me you’re so dense that you didn’t notice us doing exactly that. And you can’t deny you’ve been happy, too; you’re too much of an open book.” 

He had her there—it was impossible for her to refute it. Even now, despite the distance she was trying to keep between them, she could feel the pull towards him—she’d missed him so much. But was it just because something was pulling strings somewhere out in the cosmos? Could she trust her own feelings? 

“Tell me, love: were soulmates not even a thing, would you hesitate like this?”

That took her by surprise—but then again, everything about Killian had, since the day they met. She couldn’t deny the thoughts and fantasies she’d had about him; those were decidedly romantic in nature. But in her decision to rebel against the entire system, she’d never considered a scenario in which it didn’t exist. There were plenty of people out there who fell in love without it and were happy, but given what she thought she’d had with Neal, she figured it’d be all or nothing for her.

The longer she thought about it, though, her answer became clear: “No, I wouldn’t.”

Cautiously, he smiled, and it looked like he was blinking back tears—but that could have been due to her own fuzzy vision, and she wasn’t sure if it had to do with her emotions or current physical state. “Then why fight it?”

“Because,” she said in a small voice. “What if it’s wrong?”

“Darling, I think we’re well past that.”

She was scraping for excuses now, she knew, and could feel her walls crumbling under his sweet gaze. They weren’t gone yet, though. “What about Milah?”

His brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“I thought you didn’t want anyone else.”

He slumped a bit, but she couldn't tell if that was due to physical or emotional duress; probably both. “Aye, I had thought for a long time that I didn’t want anyone else, that I’d never be capable of letting go of my first love, of finding someone else.” He chewed on his bottom lip and then looked up at her. “That is, until I met you.”

Her breath hitched. There was no going back from a confession like that.

Silence settled over them for a long minute, during which the revelation washed over her. He wanted her—and had for a while, before they made skin contact and ended up here. And the more she reflected on it, she wanted him, too.

She wanted...all of it. Soulmates, happily ever after, the whole shebang.

Oh, who was she kidding? She fucking loved him.

But she was terrible with words—sincere ones, at least. How did she tell him that?

Gingerly, she shifted closer to him; he flinched a little, likely out of the same reflexes she’d honed over the years, but didn’t back away. His right arm was closest to her, and though he was still wearing his jacket, his hand was uncovered. It was a handsome hand, she had to admit—long, graceful fingers, with well-trimmed nails and fine dusting of dark hair on the back. She wondered if the rest of his was just as good-looking. And now, she was determined to find out.

She reached out and tentatively touched the back of his hand; there was an immediate spark at the contact, though, and she pulled back quickly in shock.

Killian’s eyes grew wide and he stared at his hand for what felt like forever; time seemed to freeze around them. But then, slowly, he turned up his palm and looked at her with an encouraging nod and a soft smile.

Emma sat up straighter, as if that would somehow firm her resolve, and took a deep breath. She could do this, totally. (She hoped.)

With a bit more confidence, she again reached for him, and this time, wrapped her delicate fingers around his broad hand. There was still a jolt, but she was ready for it and held tighter instead of retreating. It was immediately followed that same surge of emotion she’d felt on the train: concern, a bit of fear, but most of all—love.

Though she had no idea how this thing worked, she gave it a try. «I love you,» she thought, intensely holding Killian’s stare.

His eyes somehow got even bigger and his mouth parted in surprise, but it only lasted a moment before he was grinning. «I love you, too, Emma.»

Okay, now she really was crying. She never thought she was that kind of sappy girl and usually made sure her tears were reserved for moments that deserved them (Henry’s birth, Snow and Dave’s wedding, and maybe a handful of TV episodes since then). But now? When she was staring at her apparent true love, once she stopped fighting it? All the waterworks.

«Come here,» she heard over their connection, and he pulled her tight to him—though she may have also launched herself at him at the same time, resulting in an audible oof from both of them as they collided against the cushions.

She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and breathed him in. He smelled faintly of rose tea, a lot like sweat, and then, just...Killian. She couldn’t describe it—it was just...him. And it felt like home.

«You smell good, too.»

She winced. «Oh, shit. You weren’t supposed to hear that.»

«You were thinking it rather loudly, love.»

«This is definitely going to take some getting used to.»

«Aye, but I’m up for the challenge if you are.»

«Definitely.»

She sat up, breaking the connection—and found herself immediately missing it. She hadn’t expected that. As soon as skin contact had been broken, her aches and pains began to come back; she hadn’t even noticed they were gone. But that was how it worked, right? The more intense the lovesickness, the longer it took to go away, even when you reconnected.

She was probably going to have to get him naked, wasn’t she?

While the idea of that, and seeing what hid under all those form-fitting layers, was more than appealing, it also made her panic. It’d been so long since she did anything like this; god, did she even remember how to kiss?

Killian had been watching her intently and must have noticed the panic creeping across her face. Cautiously—as if he was approaching a wild animal—he reached up and caressed her cheek. «It’s okay, Emma. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.»

She huffed. «I don’t even know what I want. It’s been so long; I’m rusty with this stuff.»

«Well, that’s convenient.» He gave her a gentle smile. «So am I.»

She took a deep breath and relaxed a bit, but there was still an urge to do—something. It itched under her skin, the desire to be close to him, especially after he let his hand fall away. 

So, slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. 

There was no hesitation on his end; his lips were firm and insistent against hers, and warm—so warm. Any lingering chill from lovesickness melted away at the brush of his soft lips and the feel of his solid form next to her. Which, if she was being honest, was too far away. Using more energy than she had in weeks, she shirked her blankets and moved to straddle his lap. He groaned at the movement, but made no effort to pull away or stop what they were doing. And really, it gave her a bit of a self-satisfied thrill that she could draw that reaction from someone; guess she did still have a bit of game.

«You have plenty of “game,” love—I assure you,» he told her as his tongue flicked against their pressed-together lips.

«Okay, that was a little weird,» she thought; talking and kissing at the same time would definitely take some getting used to.

«Good weird, I hope.»

«Duh.»

They continued to snog like teenagers on the couch, just like she’d once imagined, until the pizza delivery actually did show up. She pulled away to catch her breath, but left her forehead connected to his. «Hope you feel like Pizzeria Regina.»

«With you, darling—anything. Actually, I’m famished.»

«Who knew making out worked up such an appetite?»

He chuckled out loud and it seemed to reverberate through her entire body; that was something that bore revisiting. But she was starving, too, so she hopped up to get the door before the kid inevitably left.

In the few minutes it took her to pay and get plates from the kitchen, she could feel the lovesickness settle back in at an almost alarming rate. She thought it was just the lingering fatigue, but she must have turned to fast after getting dishes from her cupboard because the next thing she knew, the world was spinning and she was on the floor. The nausea was back full-force and food was the last thing she wanted to think about; all she wanted was—“Killian,” she called out, but it was more of a weak moan than a yell. 

From her prone position where the living room carpet met the kitchen tile, she could see him hop up from the couch, alarm tensing his entire body. “Emma!” he shouted, voice similarly weak, and took long strides to get to her—but she could see the moment it hit him, too, when he had to grab for the back of the couch to stay upright.

He took a deep breath but then fell to the floor, seemingly intentionally but she couldn’t quite tell—her vision was swimming again, and she closed her eyes against the blur. She could hear him, though, and a moment later felt his rough palm cupping her cheek. 

He was speaking out loud, but she could feel his panic through their connection. “Emma, love, are you alright? What happened?”

She blinked a few times before staring up at him; he was hovering on all fours, his eyes darting as he looked her over for injury. The longer he touched her, the better she felt; she wasn’t surprised, but damn, they needed to kick this bullshit.

«Agreed,» came his the echo of his voice in her head, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. «Don’t scare me like that again.»

«I’ll try,» she said, «and I’m sorry.»

«You couldn’t help it, love; no need to apologize.»

«No, not just for that—for everything.» The truth of it was that it was that moment that sealed the deal for her. Other than her family, no one had ever worried about her like that, and the surge of love she felt—both from him and her own feelings—when he gave her that gentle kiss was greater than she’d ever felt. «For ignoring you, for fighting this, for letting us get like this. I’m sorry.» A tear started to fall down her cheek; god, she was officially a sap now.

«Oh, Swan—don’t.» He relaxed down to the floor to lay next to her. «I get it—I nearly did the same a few times, too.»

«You did?» She was surprised how much that shocked her; she was used to it from most people, but not him.

«You should have seen the tests I had my friends in the lab running. Everything from cancer to mono.»

 «I nearly bought a pregnancy test at one point,» she giggled. «Don’t we make a pair?»

He smiled back. «We do, love,» came the soft voice, and he ran a hand through her hair. «We do.»

She couldn’t help it anymore: the combination of his emotions and thoughts were mixing with hers and threatening to drown her; she hadn’t felt anything this intense since...well, since Neal, but now she realized how wrong she’d been then. Killian was coming to a similar conclusion, she could tell, but she didn’t want to think about anyone else right now—just him.

So she hitched a leg over his hips, closed the space between them, and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. And maybe grind up on him a bit. (Was that still a thing people did? God, she was so rusty.)

«I don’t know, and I don’t bloody care as long as it’s something we do.» Even his voice in her head was wrecked, to match the way he was panting. He tangled his legs with hers to bring himself closer, mirroring her gesture; she forgot how good dry humping felt.

Hell, all of this—it was like her body was coming back to life after a decade of disuse. Killian’s touch, minimal as it was through the layers of clothes they still had on, was sending those same sparks from earlier through her whole being, inside and out. She wanted to feel everything he could make her feel—she needed him, desperately. And if the growing bulge his scrubs failed to hide was anything, he did too.

«Only if you want to,» he assured her, taking a break from their game of tonsil hockey to catch their breaths, but he still pressed his forehead to hers. «I know you wanted your pizza,» he teased.

«To hell with the pizza.»

She held him tight with her leg one more time, feeling the press of his growing erection against her core—where a fair amount of those sparks had settled—before pecking his lips, sitting up, grabbing his hand and forearm, and somehow managing to untangle their legs without hitting any sensitive areas. He followed her to standing, and she quickly tugged him down the hallway to her bedroom; if she giggled a bit at the idea of having a boy in her room after so long, well, that would stay between them.

They’d no sooner crossed the threshold than she was back on him, pressing him against her dresser on the adjacent wall and probably knocking some books or something off, but that was the last thing on her mind; she was too caught up in finding the perfect way to grip his hips and the way his fingers were toying with the hem of her baggy T-shirt, grazing the skin underneath. She was starting to understand how a sparkler felt, with the way his every touch drew a spark.

As they continued to kiss, her hands began to wander, too, and found the edge of his sweater (she had no idea when he’d ditched the jacket, but that was also low on the list of concerns at the moment). His palm was resting warm and heavy on her waist, so she followed suit, letting her touch slip under fabric to his skin, and started to slide upwards.

To her shock, though, he flinched away, putting distance between them—though not enough that she couldn’t still see the way his chest was heaving under his (extremely well-fitting, she saw now) sweater. His eyes were cast on the floor and he was clenching his jaw nervously. 

«Hey, what’s wrong?» she asked gently, but didn’t want to make a move if it might jar him more.

«It’s nothing; it’s just that...no one has seen me like this since...since the accident.»

Oh, god—she hadn’t even thought about that. Here she was worrying about her own skills when there were much bigger issues to be dealt with—on both ends, probably. «We don’t have to.»

«No, I want to,» he assured her, finally meeting her gaze again. «I just remembered all of a sudden, and...I’m afraid it’s not all that pretty.»

Well, she knew a thing or two about having scars. But she hadn’t given them much thought until now; they didn’t really bother her all that much. Which, she supposed, meant only one thing. 

«Then let me go first.»

He tried to protest, but she ignored it as she guided his hand up her side, encouraging him to go higher. They both stilled when he reached her bare breast—she’d forgotten she hadn’t bothered with a bra in several days, and he wasn’t expecting the lack of obstruction when his thumb grazed her nipple. She sensed an odd combination of panic and thrill coming from him, and a polite apology started to form, which was when Emma found the lone downside to having an almost telepathic connection with her soulmate: she couldn’t shut him up with a kiss.

«But you can keep trying,» he suggested, winking terribly. His deep chuckle echoed in her mind and goosebumps rose on her skin.

He left his hand on her breast while she shimmied out of her top, moving only far enough away to slip it off and toss it aside. The cooler air plus her growing arousal were evidenced by her peaked nipples, and she didn’t miss the way his gaze drifted south.

And in one swift motion, she slid off her oversized pajama pants, letting them fall to the floor and leaving her completely naked.

His hungry gaze darted around, scanning her body, and for a moment, the same self-consciousness he was feeling slipped in—no one had seen her naked in ages, either, not since before Henry was born; she was by no means out of shape, but pregnancy had left its marks, in addition to all the other ones she’d acquired over the years. For the first time in a long time, she felt somewhat exposed—but the feeling evaporated under his reverent stare.

«You are bloody stunning, love; every part of you.» He pulled her closer and placed yet another soft kiss against her temple; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of those, or the accompanying wave of love that threatened to drown her with each one. He took a deep breath, then, «I suppose it’s my turn, then?»

«Only if you want.»

He swallowed. «Lend me a hand?»

She giggled. «Of course, but you have to promise to never make a hand joke again.»

«We’ll see.»

She could kiss the smirk off his face, at least, and proceeded to do so as her hands made their way back to his waist and slipped beneath his sweater. Slowly, she dragged upwards, his sweater bunching at her wrists as she uncovered his stomach. She was curious to look, but didn’t want to pull away until she needed to.

Her fingers were the first to discover the hair on his chest as they slid through it; it was thick and soft to the touch—a contrast to the firm muscles beneath. Despite all her dreaming, that was a detail that never quite worked its way into her fantasies—she’d never much cared for it before—but now, it seemed to perfectly fit him. And she was anxious to see it.

She’d gone as far as she could on her own, her hands coming to rest on his collarbones, her thumbs settling into the dips there. Killian took over then, lifting his arms to tug off his left sleeve above her head and not breaking the kiss until he was pulling the shirt off altogether—and then her breath was nearly stolen.

Killian may have said she was stunning, but he was fucking gorgeous. He wasn’t one of those ripped gym rats, like she had once thought he’d be, but he was clearly strong—a solid core and lean muscles, with biceps that looked like they could both hold her hips tight in the throes of passion and then cuddle her close after. Dark hair perfectly covered his pecs and drew a trail down the center of his stomach, disappearing into the scrubs that he absolutely needed to take off. And there were scars, yes—scattered around his upper body, but most obviously at the end of his left arm—but if anything, they just made him more...real.

«Did you doubt I was?» he ribbed. (Which, speaking of ribs, she could just see the outline of his, and knew hers were on similar display—a reminder of how bad things had gotten for both of them; never again, though.)

«I dunno; this all kind of seems like a strange dream come to life.»

He stepped closer and placed his hand and wrist on her waist. «A good dream, I trust?»

«An incredible one, but one that I never really dared to hope for.»

He placed his forehead on hers—another gesture she was coming to adore. «I know the feeling.»

For a long moment, they just breathed each other in and floated in the swirl of their shared emotions going back and forth; she was starting to lose track if the love she felt cresting in her heart was her own for him or his for her. It seemed endless, though, so as long as it never ran out, it probably didn’t matter what belonged to who.

«I can assure you, it won’t run dry.»

«Good.»

She reached for his shoulders again and pressed against him, finding his lips for what felt like the hundredth time—and she hadn’t had enough, not at all, nor would she likely ever. But, as she arched her pelvis up against too many layers of cotton, she knew she’d had enough of these damn scrub pants.

His laughter rang in her head as she ignored any rules of propriety and ran her hands down his back until she hit the elastic band of his pants and dipped under them, right to his bare (well, slightly fuzzy) cheeks and gripped. That brought him even closer to her, his chest hair brushing against her nipples and his erection pressing into her core. 

«These really need to come off.»

«There’s nothing stopping you.»

«Thank God.»

She wasted no time in slipping them off his narrow hips, barely waiting for them to hit the floor before she was changing their direction, only pausing long enough for him to step out of the legs lest he trip, before she was pushing him in the direction of her bed. The back of his legs hit the edge of the mattress and he tried to sit, but she stayed on top of him until he fell back against the bed with her straddled over his hips. She could feel his cock pressing against her waiting entrance, but not at all in the way she wanted—no, needed him.

«Can’t I properly lavish you, my love?» he enquired coquettishly as he massaged her breast with his hand and brought her closer to his level with the other arm. «I want to make you feel good.»

God, that sounded amazing, and she wanted to reciprocate. But him pulling her flat to his chest had just made it more painfully obvious that he wasn’t inside her, and that was all she wanted. She was more than ready—he had to be aware of that—and logically, she knew that was the fastest way to dispel whatever was left of their lovesickness. (That, and she’d gotten a good look at his shaft when she’d pulled his pants off and—damn.)

«Next time—I promise.» She was panting with want. «But right now, I need to feel you.»

He nodded; he was just as breathless. «Okay; where do you want me?»

«On top.»

«As you wish.»

Smoothly, he flipped them over so that she was flat on her back and he was hovering above her, propped on his left forearm. He placed one last, long kiss against her lips, then sat back on his haunches to ready himself.

A bit of nervousness snuck in here—she really hadn’t done this since...well, probably not since Henry was conceived. She knew she needed to lift her hips up a bit and would need to help him out, but did she remembered how to set the rhythm? How to meet him thrust for thrust?

«We’ll figure it out together, love,» he said with a soft smile and gentle caress of his blunted wrist on her thigh. He was a bit nervous, too, but knowing they were in the same boat made it all the easier.

And then she watched as he stroked himself and anything other than desire faded away. Her own fingers unconsciously drifted to her clit and began stroking, needing some sort of relief.

When he was ready, he shifted forward into the open embrace of her legs. «You ready?»

«So.»

«Can you…?»

“Yeah,” she breathed out loud; it still took some conscious effort to communicate nonverbally and her brain power was becoming increasingly limited. But she sat up enough to take her own hold of his velvety cock—one she could not wait to take in hand and mouth at a later date—and guided it to her entrance, circling it gently.

They were both a bit anxious about what came next—would it feel like the first time all over again?—but she nodded at Killian to go ahead, and he slid inside in one smooth motion.

Oh, God—she’d forgotten what this felt like. Yeah, she had her toys, but nothing could replicate the feel of the real thing: the heat, the smell, the emotion. This was exactly what she needed—exactly who she needed.

«You feel bloody amazing, darling.» They hadn’t even started moving and already, he sounded wrecked.

«So do you, oh my god.»

She pulled him down by the neck to kiss him again, taking a long moment to get used to the feel of him, even though in some ways, he felt familiar—like he was a perfect fit.

«I mean, we are soulmates,» he reminded her.

«Yeah, but I didn’t think that applied to body parts, too.»

«I fail to see any negatives here.»

«Oh, definitely not.»

He turned the attention of his lips to her neck, tickling her with his stubble, which made her squirm—and then gasp, because it drew just the slightest bit of friction where they were joined together. And it felt incredible.

«That good, eh? We barely did anything.»

She wrapped a leg around him and pressed her foot against his ass, moving him again. «No more teasing; just move.»

It took longer than she’d care to admit for them to figure out the right pace—being soulmates didn’t mean they were automatically in sync (which was probably descriptive of their entire relationship)—but they eventually got there, to a point where she could meet him at every push and he found the perfect angle to hit every sensitive point inside. He groaned when she clenched, and she moaned whenever he pressed hard enough to brush her clit. And in no time at all—but also possibly forever? Time was weird—she was near the edge of release, so close to falling off. 

«Let go, Emma; I want to see you come.»

«I want you to go with me.»

He let out a deep exhale. «I’ll try.» 

He picked up the pace and her already racing heart struggled to keep up with it, but in the end, she couldn’t; she reached her peak and crested it with a shout, fireworks going off behind her eyes as he continued to thrust into her.

It didn’t take much longer for him to follow her, though, and even though she was caught up in her own rapture, she could feel him stutter as he climaxed and spilled into her. (Good thing she still took the pill, if only for the cycle regularity.) He was dangerously close to collapsing on top of her but still, she held him tight with her legs, as if he might disappear if she didn’t.

But he was done depressingly soon, and her legs were no match for the dead weight that was leaning against them as he fell to her side on the mattress. Every part of her was tingling, as if each cell in her body was renewed after that. She cracked an eye open, and despite the dim light coming through her bedroom curtain, Killian was nearly effulgent as they lay there in the afterglow. She knew they needed to clean up, and probably text David so that he knew they weren’t dead, but that could be dealt with later; right now, she just wanted to soak this in.

Killian reached across the short distance between them and pulled her tight to his chest; she was right—those biceps were perfect for being held. «How was it?» he asked shyly.

«Only the greatest orgasm of my life; how about you?»

He smirked. «Roughly the same, I think.»

She placed a gentle peck on the scar on his cheek. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.» He sighed and snuggled into her neck. «Now what?»

«We’ll deal with that later,» she sighed. «Right now, this is perfect.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

«You were wearing this when we met,» he thought as he wrapped himself around her from behind, adorably resting his chin on her bare shoulder.

She was getting dressed—after round 2, where they did get to lavish each other, then round 3 in the shower—into a very familiar blouse and rather unseasonable pair of shorts; he’d only gotten as far as his pants. 

«Mhmm. This is what I was going to wear, until I found out some random guy was gonna be there. Couldn’t run around exposing myself like that, now could I?»

«I don’t know; might have saved us a lot of time.»

She turned in his arms and hugged him tight, loving the feel of his warm skin under her palms. «No, probably not. I was nowhere near ready then.»

«And now?» he asked; even if they weren’t communicating verbally, his facial expressions—including the signature quirk of his eyebrow—remained the same.

«Ready for anything.» She emphasized it by rising on her toes to give him a quick kiss. «But if you don’t get a shirt on soon, David is gonna send a search party.»

«Let him,» Killian smirked, and made a move to plant a kiss on her neck that she narrowly dodged, only by jumping away; of course he’d noticed she was ticklish there.

“I’m serious, Killian!” Now that she was getting used to their telepathic connection, it felt like was the first time she’d used her voice in ages; at least she was laughing as she chastised him. “I walked in on him and Snow enough and as much as I might like the idea of revenge, I do NOT want to subject Henry to that.”

He brushed a tendril of hair off her shoulder, but left his hand there and gave her a beyond cheeky smirk. «It’s bound to happen at some point.»

She just rolled her eyes. «Put your damn shirt on.»

Somewhere in there, they had let David know they were alive and would be heading over shortly. They made no mention of the other, though; Killian would join them later, after he went home to change, and honestly—they just wanted to see the reaction, especially from Snow. She did worry a bit about Henry, but knowing how good they were together kept her concern to a minimum. 

After Killian pouted some more but eventually complied with her request for clothing (one of the few times she’d ever have to ask, she hoped), she drove him over to his building—which really was close, but he’d taken a Swyft to her place. They shared a quick kiss goodbye and then she was alone. 

It was surprising how quickly that empty feeling came over her again now that she was by herself—how quickly she’d gotten used to his presence, particularly over the last few life-changing hours, but the past months as well. Hopefully, the cops weren’t around, because she pressed the gas pedal a little bit harder—she couldn’t wait to see everyone again. Now that she knew for a fact there was someone else on her side—that she didn’t have to isolate herself anymore—she didn’t want to at all. 

At least it was a short drive, and Henry was waiting for her on the front porch when she pulled up to the house. “Mom! I missed you!” he shouted as he ran for her, then grabbed her in a bruising hug. God, it seemed like he’d grown half a foot in the last few days. 

“I missed you too, kid.” But it took the same amount of effort as usual to kiss the top of his head, so at least she hadn’t missed anything. 

She did feel a bit guilty that she’d still managed to succumb to the one thing she’d worked so hard to avoid, but at least she knew it would never happen again. 

“You’re all better now?” he asked in a hopeful voice. 

“Yup; all better. And I promise to not let myself get that sick again.”

“Good. I was ready to sick Killian on you.”

She snorted; that was not something she was going to try to verify nor dispute. And he didn’t notice, thank God; it was bad enough he knew what cockblocking was. He just dragged her to the backyard, where Snow and Dave were waiting. 

Their immediate grins turned over to a bit of shock, probably at her outfit; she was definitely dressed for summer, and while it was unusually warm for the last week of October, it was barely 70 degrees. But she hadn’t felt the breeze on her skin in so long, and hey—she had a point to make. 

“Well, don’t you look...summery,” Snow assessed as she gave her a hug; David was, per usual, at the grill. “Oh, but I forgot to tell you: Killian’s coming too.”

Snow was a terrible liar: she hadn’t forgotten at all. If the not-so-hidden gleam in her eye was any hint, this was yet another matchmaking scheme. But Emma could play along this once. 

“Oh, okay,” she shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’ll keep my space.”

Henry was catching her up on what he’d learned at school that week and the latest drama with his friends when Killian arrived. She was trying her damnedest to keep up with what Henry was telling her about his science class, but Killian’s presence was exceedingly distracting—especially with the way he sauntered in wearing a form-fitting t-shirt that both hugged his biceps and revealed a peek at his chest hair, and khaki shorts that showed off his calves. Even though she knew what lay underneath all that, she could still feel the pull of arousal.

She turned her focus back to Henry as Killian greeted Dave and then Snow, trying her best to play it cool. If that was a thing she could still do (probably not). But it was like every part of her was in tune with him now, and couldn’t help but react when he made his way over to the table they were sitting at.

“Is this seat taken?” he enquired, nodding at the chair next to Emma.

“Go ahead,” she said, unable to keep a hint of a smile off her face.

But he didn’t get a chance to sit before Henry had hopped up and wrapped him in a hug, too. Any lingering worries about Henry’s potential reaction immediately disappeared as she watched the tender interaction between them, on both their ends—they’d both clearly felt the absence of the other, so now she was feeling a bit guilty instead.

Like she’d told herself earlier, though: it wouldn't happen again.

They took their seats on either side of her—Killian on her left, Henry on her right—and Henry relaunched his stories. Aside from some light footsie, they hadn’t made contact yet, though his arm resting on the surface of the table was only inches from hers. Eventually, Henry realized that all the parts of Killian’s prosthesis were exposed, so that gave her an opportunity to make a move, when Killian was leaning over the table to show it to Henry.

Surreptitiously, she let her forearm touch his, where he was bracing himself on the table with it. The only indication he gave that he noticed was the brief straightening of his spine, but she immediately sensed his emotions again—happiness, a bit of hunger, but mostly love.

«I missed you,» he told her while Henry was inspecting the mechanics of the prosthesis.

«It wasn’t even an hour,» she teased.

«Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel the same? Because I can tell that’s not true.»

«No, I definitely missed you, too.»

The connection was broken when he sat back down—when Snow brought the food over. She proceeded to mother hen them as she distributed the food, making sure they were both feeling better—and asking some pointed questions about the rose tea.

“Yeah, it did help a lot,” Emma gushed.

“Aye; thank you, milady,” Killian added, ever the gentleman.

Snow seemed pleased, but there was still a level of concern in her manner that anyone could see; she didn’t think her plan was working, to which Emma hid her smirk in a bite of hot dog. (She could see wheels turning in Henry’s head, though.)

She and Killian continued to act cool to each other through the meal, save the occasional brush of the leg under the table (which was mostly to laugh at Snow’s matchmaking attempt).

Finally, Snow left with Henry to take the dishes inside and David cleaned up the grill, leaving them alone. She put her shin against his leg again while pretending to look at her phone.

«Do it when she comes back?» she proposed.

«Yeah, but wait for her to set the pie down; I’d hate for her to drop it.»

«Good point.»

And so, casually, once Snow had brought the pie to the table and made the first cut, Emma wrapped her hand around Killian’s and waited for everyone to notice. 

“Emma, do you want ice...OH MY GOD.”

There it was: the reaction they expected from Snow. She’d dropped the serving knife, which landed with a clatter on the table, and was staring at their joined hands with wide eyes and jaw hanging open. Eventually she blinked and slammed her mouth shut, but continued to stare at them. 

“But—you were—” she stammered, a pointed finger drifting between the two of them. “I thought—I didn’t—”

Emma was trying really hard not to laugh and could feel how amused Killian was, too. David just looked confused, and Henry was a bit slack-jawed, though she could tell it was in a good way.

Then it was like a lightbulb went on in Snow’s head, and she turned to David. “I called it! I totally called it!”

She then fell into girlish squeals while David, instead, levied a wary eye on Killian. “Is this why you wanted their address?”

“Um, yeah.” 

David squinted. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Killian answered.

Henry piped up. “Do I wanna know?”

“Absolutely not!” Emma cut in.

All eyes were on Henry, though, as he stood and walked around Emma’s chair to Killian.

“Do you love my mom?” he asked, with all the severity a 10-year-old boy could muster.

“I do,” Killian said, and it almost sounded like a vow.

“And you promise not to hurt her, or to run away on us?” She didn’t miss the way he said “us”; she was a little surprised they hadn’t discussed it, but Killian knew he was getting a package deal—he had from the beginning.

“I’d rather be sent to the depths of Hades.”

«Drama queen,» she told him, but Killian’s eyes only flickered over to hers for a moment as he continued to hold Henry’s stare.

“Okay then,” Henry nodded, then seemed to think for a moment before launching himself at Killian again. “Welcome to the family.”

She didn’t need their connection to know how that made Killian feel: his eyes grew wide for a moment, but then they closed and he returned the hug full-force. She’d had the same reaction when she was adopted all those years ago; and though this was a totally different situation, it was still the same emotion.

Snow wanted all the details, obviously, and David and Henry wanted none, so they complied until the sun set and it was time to go home, both of them feeling the chill in their weather-inappropriate wardrobes. 

They stood by their cars, locked in an embrace—both because of a desire to stay close and desire to get warm. 

«Well, that went reasonably well,» he decided.

«Yeah, pretty good. I expected a bit more screaming though.»

«Same,» he chuckled.

«When can I see you next?» This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to; they weren’t in any danger of lovesickness again—not if she had anything to say about it—but there was still the reality that they had different jobs and different homes. (For the time being, at least.)

He shrugged. «We never got to enjoy that pizza. Maybe we try again tomorrow night?»

«Sounds perfect.» She underlined it by rising to her toes to place a lingering kiss on him.

“Are you guys gonna be like this all the time now?” Henry called out from the other side of the Bug, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“Yup,” she yelled back. “Get used to it.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, but it was half-hearted; she could hear the happiness in his voice.

«Well, we shouldn’t try to scar him too much.»

«That’s a change in tone from earlier.»

«I didn’t have his approval yet. Didn’t you hear? I’m part of the family now.» She could really fell his joy at that now.

«You already were; you know that, right?»

«It’s nice to have confirmation.»

«Yeah, I know.» She kissed him again. «And I hope you never doubt it again.»

He was the one to pull her close this time, stealing her breath with a kiss that she hoped would get her through the next day. «Not as long as I have you. I love you.»

«I love you, too,» she sighed. «Onto the next adventure?»

«After you, love.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

It wasn’t like a switch was flipped and they were just happy-true love all the time. There were still bumps in the road, they had their share of fights, and their past fears and walls still haunted them on occasion.

Several months passed before they moved in together—months that didn’t look all that different from the previous ones, save for the regular sleepover. They couldn’t decide whose apartment to move to, but Henry was the one to quash that dispute when he found a house for sale a couple streets over from Snow and Dave.

They were almost always touching when they were together, and even more so once they lived together—and their connection only grew. She didn’t realize that it could, but the longer they were together, the more impossibly in tune they became.

And she finally got to experience shared dreams—for real this time. And it was mostly amazing, but people with baggage like theirs didn’t only have sweet dreams; they had nightmares, too. More than once, she saw the crash that took Milah, and Killian saw Neal’s death several times. The worst ones were when the two became melded together and they dreamed about losing each other; those were the nights they came together to make sure the dreams weren’t real—to feel the other there.

Granted, that wasn’t the only time they got it on—they did that fairly regularly and with vigor, which was probably why their daughter, Hope, came along sooner rather than later. 

(But not before Snow got to plan their wedding, at least. They’d been right: she started the binder the day they met.)

All told, it was...perfect. It was both everything she expected and nothing like it, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it had taken her so long to warm up to the idea.

«You just hadn’t met me yet,» Killian teased, standing behind her on their patio and looking out over their backyard. Snow and David were there, with their son Leo toddling after Hope and Henry chasing them both around. Maybe it was a cliche, but she was pretty sure this was what happily ever after looked like.

«Nope, I hadn’t,» she confirmed, and pulled his arms a bit tighter around her. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks@mryddinwilt@cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @fergus80@pirateherokillian@bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @killianmesmalls@effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @distant-rose @athenascarlet @kmomof4@ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose@snowbellewells@idristardis @scientificapricot @let-it-raines @shireness-says@courtorderedcake @its-okay-killian @captainsjedi @a-faekindagirl

[benhardyisdaddy]

Howl - Part 4

MASTERLIST 

(hope this doesnt seem boring to u guys, but its about to get good so like im excited??? also this pic reminds me of a moody cute boyfriend vibe so i used it lol anyways ily all and i hope u like it BYEEE)

Word Count: 2,053

Bright lights. Loud voices. A man yelling. You slowly blink a few times and adjust your eyes to your surroundings. You look around and focus your eyes on the tiny white room around you. You’re hooked up to an IV as you lie on a hospital bed. Well that was a clear sign of where you are at the moment. You attempt to sit up and a slight pain from your leg shoots up. You hiss and lean back instantly. A nurse rushes into your room and hurries to you. She smiles and messes with something on your IV.

“Miss y/l/n, do you know where you are?” she asks slowly. You instantly nod to her.

“I’m in the hospital.” you whisper, having to clear your throat. The nurse smiles and nods.

“Perfect! And do you know what happened to you?” she asks again, grabbing a clipboard near the end of your bed on a tiny table. The memories of what had happened floods your mind. Something had slammed into the back of your car. You were in shock as you got out. You remember looking down at your leg and seeing a huge piece of glass sticking out. Then you remember seeing black.

“Yes, the accident. The glass in my leg.” you say, moving your leg just a bit. You feel pain again, but not as bad.The nurse writes something down as she walks closer to you.

“Yes, you were in an accident. And as for the glass, it missed your major artery by just an inch. You’re very lucky to be alive. You just needed a few stitches and it’s all wrapped up now. The hospital will provide you with the crutches.” she says. You look up and frown.

“I’ll need crutches?” you ask, bummed. She sweetly smiles and nods.

“Unless if you want to be in pain every time you take a step.” Your frown drops and you smile back as you shake your head no. She smiles and nods. “The doctor will be in here very shortly to talk to you. All your tests came back fine, so you shouldn’t be here any much longer.” she says. As she goes to reach for the handle, there’s a loud knock at the door. She turns to open it up half expecting the doctor, but it’s not. It’s Ben. He looks up and his eyes are instantly on you. He looks nervous and his face is flushed. You sit up straight and are utterly confused.

“Ben?” you ask as he quickly walks in. The nurse watches him for a second, then shuts the door behind her. He walks up and half smiles, looking you up and down.

“Are you alright?” he asks fast. You raise a brow and lift the covers off of your legs, revealing the large gauze wrapped around your thigh. A tiny bit of blood is stained over where you assume your stitches are. He tenses his jaw and looks up to you.

“Why are you even here?” you ask, still not understanding. “I’d expect Joe or Gwil to be here, not… You. And what happened to your arm?” you ask. He had his arm hung in a sling. He looks down quickly and shrugs.

“Touch football. Rami got a little too handsy. Messed up my shoulder.” he says, staring down at his arm still. He looks back up and shakes his head. “But that doesn’t matter. Are you okay? What did the nurse say?”

“She said my tests came back fine. I had a piece of glass in my leg that apparently barely missed an artery. I’m lucky to be alive.” you say, smiling to yourself. Ben tenses his jaw and looks back down to your leg.

“That stupid fucking truck driver.” he whispers to himself. You look up and cock your head at him.

“What? How did you know it was a truck driver? And how did you know I was even here?” you ask. He looks up fast and his eyes slightly open wide. He clears his throat and shrugs once more.

“Oh, um, the nurse had told me what happened. The truck driver slammed into the back of your car. Right? Did they not tell you?” he asks. You shake your head no and attempt to sit up more.

“No. They hadn’t told me any of that yet and you still haven’t answered my question.” you say, squinting your eyes. He looks to you and sniffles.

“Joe got a call from here, but he couldn’t be here fast enough, so he, uh, you know, called me.” he says, shifting his feet.

“Is Joe going to be here?” you ask. Ben nods and pulls up a chair to place it next to your bed.

“He’s on his way.” he says as he sits down and stares at you. You look away and play with the hem on your hospital gown. Your head starts to suddenly swarm and a feeling of loopiness comes over you. You close your eyes and lean your head back. You felt almost high.

“I feel… Weird.” you say, half giggling to yourself. Ben watches and looks up to your IV bag. He laughs.

“Probably because they’re giving you a high fun dose of morphine. Probably for your leg pain.” You lean your head up and look at him.

“I’m on morphine?” you ask, now frowning. “I’ve never been on morphine in my life.” Ben watches you and smiles.

“First time for everything, right?” he asks, winking. You catch yourself giggling again and lay your head back once more. You allow the lightheadedness to over take you as you just listen to the sounds all around you. And one of those sounds being a man in another room yelling about something you couldn't quite make out. You tried listening, but failed. You felt Ben’s eyes staring at you, but you didn’t dare look up. It felt like forever when your eyes were closed. Finally there was another knock at your door and it was suddenly opening up, giving you no time to object. In walks Joe as he looks around nervously. He spots you and rushes over. He pats Ben on the shoulder as he gently leans down to hug you.

“Oh my god.” he whispers. “I got a call that you were in an accident and I just started panicking. I’m so happy you’re okay.” he says, cupping your face. He kisses you on the forehead and steps back just as your door slowly opens up once more.

“Knock knock.” says a man as as he walks in. He has on a white coat and you instantly know he must be your doctor. You smile and feel your head swarm.

“So, how are we feeling?” he asks. Ben looks to you and laughs.

“High.” he says, watching as you have trouble holding your head up. The doctor laughs as he walks over to your IV machine. He adjusts the buttons and walks away.

“There,” he says. “I think that’ll do. The pain still bothering you?” he asks slowly. You shake your head no. “Alright, good. So, I went over your tests again and everything is still clear. All we’re worried about at this point is the wound on your leg. You know, infection and such. It’s cleaned out and stitched, so just watch it in case if it starts turning an angry red or pussing. If you notice any of that, you need to come back here ASAP, okay?” he asks.

“Okay.” says Joe, answering for you. You look up to him and lazily smile. The doctor walks over to a tiny closet in the room and types in a code on the door. It opens up and he grabs out a pair of crutches. He leans them against your bed and grabs another clipboard beside you.

“I just need you to sign right here and you’re officially all set to leave.” You grab the pen and quickly scribble your name, ignoring the horrible attempt. The doctor hands you a pain prescription for your leg. “Check in with your primary doctor in about a week and a half, okay? They’ll be able to release you from the crutches. Just remember, if it starts looking bad, don’t hesitate to come it. Got it?” he asks, smiling. You smile back and nod your head. The doctor slips out of the room as Joe helps you stand up. Ben walks around and gathers your clothes. You sit on the edge of the bed as he hands them to you.

“I need to get dressed.” you slur. Joe quickly looks to Ben as he slightly nods his head, now knowing what to do.

“Here,” says Ben, holding up the bed sheet. “I’ll block while you hand her what she needs.” Joe nods as he quickly helps you untie your gown and walks away. You’re covered up as you slip it off and hurriedly put on your shirt. The hospital had provided you with baggy, hospital pants so they don’t rub on your wound. You lean down and slide the pants over your legs and hike them up. You look up and Ben’s eyes are glued to yours. Something about the way he stares at you gives you this deep dark feeling in your stomach. You swallow hard and quickly look to Joe. He looks from Ben to you and smiles.

“Okay, I’m done.” you say. Ben tosses the blanket to the side as Joe slips on your shoes. He reaches over and grabs your crutches for you. You hold onto them as you stand up, a dull pain in your leg. You wince a bit as you place them under your arms. You lean forward and take a step. Your legs go wobbly as you fall down, but not before Ben swoops in and catches you. His arm is sternly behind your back as you hold onto his neck. You look up to him as you gasp.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can’t speak so all you do is nod yes. He helps you back to your feet as Joe hands you back your crutches.

“How about we get you a wheelchair?” he asks, watching you all worried. He was definitely like your older protective brother. You shake your head no quickly and place them back under your arms.

“No, no I got this. I’m fine.” You attempt to walk once more and it comes more naturally this time. You walk towards and out the door. You slowly pass by a room as Ben stands close to you, fearing that you might fall again. You’re looking forward as an older man begins to shout at you.

“You!” he yells, standing up from his bed, pointing. He’s short and has a trucker hat on, his eyes are wide. You look over as Ben stands in front of you protectively. He stands up tall and gives the man a threatening eye.

“They think I hit you! I didn’t! Didn’t you see it? The giant thing that slammed into you!? It wasn’t me! I was on the other side! It pushed you out of my way! That creature! Didn’t you see it!?” he yells at you with pleading eyes. You stare at him wide eyed and don’t know what he’s talking about. You shake your head, not knowing what to say.

“You need to step away from her.” says Ben as he places his hand on the man’s chest, not allowing him to come any closer. The guy doesn’t seem to care, he’s too focused on you.

“It was a monster that hit you! They think I’m crazy! Look at my semi! There’s no mark! I didn’t hit you! It did! I saw it!” he continues shouting as a few police officers rush in. They order him to sit down, but he just needs to tell you what happened. He continues yelling as Joe places his hand on your lower back, motioning you to continue walking. You couldn’t look away from this man as he called out for you. There was something in his eyes that made you confused. He keeps yelling that he didn’t hit you and something deep inside of you tells you that he’s telling the truth. And you almost believe him.

Tag List: @loudxxstar @iambuckyrogers @peter-parkersbb @seven-seas-of-hi @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage@mautand @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia@discodeakyjazzyjoe @bethany-cc @onexlittlespark @ohmystaxk @secretsweetscollectionblog @that-fandom-sucks-tho @thewinchesterchronicles@iambuckyrogers @idontbelievethiss 

[jennsmischievousmind]

EXSOMNIS

CHAPTER 1 - OATH OF HIPPOCRATES

Exsomnis: Wakeful, Vigilant

Summary: Fresh Doctor out of residency you didn't expect Conyers to be this uneventful until everything happened at the same time. From the outset, an odd meeting with what seems like a steadfast Detective but it was only the beginning.

Notes: English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Based on the movie Prisoners by Denis Villeneuve (so I don't own any of the OG characters) if you haven't seen it, I recommend you do (maybe before reading) :) The story takes place before and through the event in the movie.

“Incoming, male 22, shot in the thorax, GCS 2”

“Trauma 4 Dr. Izzy you’re on it.”

“Incoming, same site, female, 35, shot in the leg, no artery touched, police officer GCS4.”

“Trauma 2 is free”

Night shift in the E.D was on for eight hours straight.

“Evening Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Evening Erin, updates?”

“Well, we’ve got 2 gunshot victims whom just got in, they’re being take care of. The young Alisa with the addiction is, unfortunately, ready to get discharged and Mrs. Huston is …“

“True to herself I presume” ... we both sighed, she nodded

“I’ll check on her, you patted her shoulder, thanks.” You took a tablet checking Mrs. Huston, our backslider, last results.

“This man has to be handcuff right now!!” You turned around at the loud voice echoing in the E.R waiting room. The head nurse bumped into you.

“That’s the officer who brought the two shotguns, victims.” Your attention returned to the tablet.

“Well he must shut it, it’s a hospital, not a sports bar.” She looked at you embarrassed, you saw another nurse looking at him but trying to make herself busy.

Putting the tablet in your pocket you head to the waiting room.

“Sir, I need you to stay quiet please.” you saw the hospital security guy coming your way, but gently dismissed him.

The officer looked at you visibly annoyed, he blinked a few times in a matter of seconds. Your attention got caught when he stumbled on his side.

“Sir? Are you all right?” You caught him by his side and he hissed. Retrieving your hand, finding red stains on it, you lift his jacket.

“I need a treatment room!” You yelled, and ask a nurse for help, rushing the officer in the E.R.

“Treatment 1, Y/N” the head nurse pointed at your left.

He looked down at his stomach, a gash of blood was staining his light blue shirt.

“Shit!” He growled as the nurse helped you lay him down.

“I don’t have time for this.” He hissed trying to stand up.

“And I don’t have time to argue with you!” You pushed him back on the bed. Putting your gloves on.

“I won’t let you bleed out on my shift.” He sighed as the nurse cut down his shirt and tank top.

“Knife wounds.” He sighed as you inspect his chest and abdomen. He had two on the abdomen.

The adrenaline must have been enough for him to not feel them until now.

“You’ll need stitches.” The nurse prepares the stitches kit and she sanitizes the wounds.

“Won’t be the first.” He groaned you checked his vitals while the nurse prepared him.

“Dr. I need your nurse, is it okay with you?” The head nurse came in a rush.

“Yeah yeah, thanks Gail.” She let you the kit. One of his wounds was pretty low on his abdomen, genuinely you grabbed his belt to undo it.

“What the …!” he caught your wrist.

“Sorry, should have asked, I must lower your pants to reach the wound.” He didn’t answer anything, looking at you pondering if he really had to, he yields undoing his belt on his own. You lowered the pants as much as you needed, his dignity remaining intact.

“You’re lucky he didn’t stab you lower, you would have bled to death.”

“So much for reassuring your patient Doctor” he inhaled, a smile creeping on his lips.

“Yeah, well, sorry about that.” He smirked and hissed as the thread pulled the nerves.

You finished stitching him up in silence as he wasn’t much of a talker, but it didn’t bother you as you were not the best at small talks either.

“There you go. Try not to move too much, you need some rest officer.” You threw your gloves in the bin.

“Thanks, doc.” You finally took a good look at him. Sleek black hair, thick eyebrows, dark circles under two bright blue eyes, thin lips and a sharp jaw. He reached out his hand, that you shook, blinking multiples times again.

“My job. Do you want a hospital gown?” You asked him gesturing at his bare torso.

“No, thanks, I have a shirt in my trunk.” He hoped down the bed.

“Careful with those stitches, please. You’ll have to come back in a few weeks to get them removed. If you need anything for the pain…”

“I’ll be fine.” He grabbed his jacket and put it on with your help, his other hand on his stitches, he leaned forward and walk out the treatment room.

You shook your head and went to the main desk. Typing in your last entry, still filing up his charts you saw him pulled out his phone.

“No phone in the E.R.” you pointed at the sign on the doors. He looked at you then to the sign then back at you and finally head to the waiting room. A nurse approached you, multiple IV bags in her arms.

“Thank god I didn’t get to take care of him.” You turned your head to her wondering. She might have felt she said something wrong, as she stuttered an explanation.

“Well, he ... he is pretty stubborn, not the first time he shows up wounded and don’t want any help.” She grimaced, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“He is indeed.” You past by her, heading to the waiting room.

Patting on his shoulder as he was still on the phone you handed him a note and a painkiller prescription. The note reminding him how many times he had to change the gauze etc. You lock your gaze with his, in a way to make sure he’d got it. He was still listening to whoever was on the phone, and nod at you, somehow you stared at him longer than necessary. You mouth a goodbye raising your hand turning back to the E.R. immediately wondering what exactly got into you.

“Yeah, can you repeat that please I didn’t ... get it.” He talked to the phone, looking back at the note you gave him.

A few hours later you were finally on break. Erin had just got hers, she slumped into the seat next to you, she hummed at the smell of the fresh cup of coffee. Night shifts are not always the easiest, keeping up a healthy lifestyle when you’re pretty much a bat is not the best deal. Erin sighed loudly.

“Like you said.” You sipped on your ginger tea.

“I’ve heard you’ve met the infamous Detective Loki?” She asked putting down her mug. You opened your resting eyes, arching a brow at her, she had straightened up suddenly refreshed.

“Oh yeah, the stubborn guy! He's a detective?” you frowned.

“So?” She wriggled her eyebrows at you, finally getting what she meant you sighed.

The thing with Erin is that she knew you well, you’ve been to med school with her back in Cleveland and since you’ve arrived in this little town, she had tried to hook you up with every man in uniform she thinks you’d like. Firefighters, policeman, surgeons, etc…

“Come on, I’ve seen the man 30 minutes top.”

“That’s quite enough to tell if at least physically, he’s interesting you.”

“Are you listening to yourself? He must have someone you know.” You scoffed

“Whatever. Tell me honestly, how you found him?” She leaned on the table.

You sighed leaning back, stretching your legs. Reminiscing the encounter.

"He is … good looking, I don’t …, you know the nurses fear him, right?

“Hm hm? So what?” She urged you to continue.

“I don’t know why they do though. His eyes look sad but ... sweet in a way, you scoffed at your own sentence, give me an anesthetic I'm talking nonsense."

Erin giggled as you went on.

“We stared at each other for a few seconds back in the waiting room.” You took a gulp of hot tea.

“I bet it was awkward”, her shoulders rising.

“Don’t tell me, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was ridiculous.”

She smiled brightly, you knew what she had in mind.

“Don’t you dare.”

“What, I didn’t say a thing!“

“I can hear your mind plotting, stop that.” You menaced her with your index. She sing-song a not so sincere okay.

Chapter 2 - Red Light

[gutbrainaxis]

lemon balm

My first experience with ulcerative colitis pain was in June of 2018. I felt a searing pain under my lowest rib on my right side, stretching down to my pelvis. Later that night, I got my period. Aha, I figured. My period. Of course. That night my flow was so heavy that I had to supplement my tampons with dunkin donuts napkins, wrapped expertly around the crotch of my panties in an effort to not further stain my boyfriend’s bedsheets.

Towards the end of my period, I found that I was extremely constipated. My entire abdomen felt like a water balloon full of cement. I let my mom drive me to the emergency room, not her own, but rather the one she used to work at some 2o-odd years ago. It was frustrating to stop every few feet to meet my mom’s coworkers from 20 years ago.  I was hunched over and walking very slowly, in something like a bipedal fetal position. I don’t care how long ago you worked with my mom Sandra, my stomach feels like it’s about to explode. Intake was frustrating. A young, pretty nurse with an Apple Watch asks about my symptoms. I tell her my stomach feels like cement. Nothing else abnormal. Just the cement.

I finally get a bed in the ER. It’s a calm afternoon and my mom chats with the young nurse who gives me an IV. He completed part of his training at her hospital. They don’t remember each other. I get fluids and an ibuprofen and I’m discharged before I know what’s going on. I’m confused because I’m still in excruciating pain and I still don’t understand what’s going on. My mom says that I’m to follow up with my gynecologist.

Two days later, I’m at the OBGYN. My usual doctor, an advanced practice nurse, isn’t available, says the nurse. I catch her up on my medical history. I had had an abortion six months prior and yes I had followed up with the doctor and yes it had gone smoothly and no there was no pain. A white-haired gentleman speaks with me about my symptoms while pressing gently on my abdomen. He gives me a prescription for a vaginal ultrasound and leads me into his office, where we talk about the birth control I’ve neglected to take for the last 18 months. His office is decorated with pictures of his family and grandchildren and their crayon artwork. He strikes me as the type of man who is so knowledgeable about women’s reproductive health that he has embarrassed his daughters on several occasions. I learn that there is no medical reason for women to release their blood monthly. Did you know that the reason why the last week of a 30-day pack of birth control consists of sugar pills? It’s not because the woman needs to release her blood, as I had assumed. It’s a built-in pregnancy test. You could, theoretically, skip the sugar pill week. I leave the office with samples of NuvaRing in hand and sense of liberation from the Lutero-industrial complex.

We go to my mom’s facility, where a talkative Russian lady conducts my ultrasound and advises me in gentle terms to gain some weight soon. My ultrasound appears normal, although there is some evidence that I had a cyst on my left side that had already exploded or whatever. They don’t seem concerned.

Later that day, I go back to the ER. This time I give in to my mom’s advice and let her take me to her own ER. I’m reluctant to go there because I know she’ll be recognized and I’ll have to make pleasantries with all of her coworkers. It’s amazing how tone deaf they can be. It’s like, “Oh my how much you’ve grown! I saw you when you were 5 years old! Oh, you’re in horrible pain right now? Oh dear, you should definitely go to the hospital!” Still, I go.

This time they prepare me for a CT scan with contrast. I’m waiting for about an hour before I’m given a foul tasting drink that I have to down in order for the CT scan to appear with contrast. It looks like water but it tastes like freezer burn, if that makes sense. I take generous swigs and chase it with the thought that the taste is not as horrible as my pain.

They wheel my bed into a room with the giant eggshell colored contraption. I don’t remember much at that point except for putting my bra back on afterwards. I sit in the ER waiting for my results. It turns out that there is some thickening of my bladder wall, but nothing that causes any alarm or explains my symptoms.

Sometime around July 10, the pain morphs into something else. I remember waking up and immediately regretting being awake. I remember laying in bed paralyzed with pain. There was no comfortable position for any part of my body. I could not re-position my body without evoking the pain. I could not be awake. I took Naproxen that day, as per mom’s suggestion. No use. I took a good deal of melatonin in an effort to go back to sleep. Sleep was the only respite. There was a point when my body would not let me go back to sleep. It had been satiated. I was awake, regardless of whether or not I wanted to be. I stared at the flowers my mom had placed on my bedstand. Lemon balm sprigs, clipped from my aunt’s garden the prior afternoon on the way home from the ultrasound.

Lemon balm leaves are small, maybe just an inch in length. Its outer ridges are rounded. They have soft, tiny hairs that give it a velvety feel like a peach. They smell like sugar-dusted lemon, like a lemon bar pastry with graham cracker crust. I thought about the leaves. I thought about a single leaf. I thought about a single leaf so big that it could block out the intrusive daylight that continuously assaulted my eyelids. I imagined being a lady bug and sleeping under a hut made of a single lemon balm leaf. I thought about the cool earth underneath me, and the bliss of knowing nothing of the forest around me, only the packed earth below me and the leaf above me. I blocked out all other awareness. I let myself be encapsulated by its cool sweetness. I felt okay.

Later that night, my mom comes home from work. It’s close to midnight, or maybe just past midnight. She comes into my room and it’s dark. She says, “GutBrain?”I do not respond. The sound of her calling my name wrenches me from my lemon baum dream. I refuse to see her shadowy silhouette standing in my doorway. I can feel that it is there and with that growing awareness, I can feel the pain resurfacing with my consciousness. It grows logarithmically. She calls my name again. I can hear the concern in her voice. She asks me if I need to go to the emergency room. I grip the fringes of my daydream and lying as motionless as possible, I say, “Don’t… talk… to… me… it.. hurts”. A flurry of questions. I ignore them all. I grapple for the edges of the forest, the lemon balm leaf, my sanctuary. But it’s slipping away. Quick.

I whisper, “Sorry”. I know that I seem rude to her and I feel bad for that, but I also know that my guilt for being rude is a human emotion and at that moment, I couldn’t disentangle any aspect of my humanity from the pain in my abdomen. When I began meditating, I imagined walking through a series of doors and closing them behind me. I abandoned my belly pain in the same place that I abandoned all awareness of my human body and my human family and my human worries. When she called my name, it all came flooding back. I can’t unhear the sounds of her shuffling in the kitchen. The muffled voice of my grandma. I resign myself to being awake now. I use my elbows to leverage my lower half over the edge of my bed. My feet make contact with the carpet. A slow trek to the bathroom, lumbering under the weight of the magma in my body. Wince as I remove my pants. Sit on the toilet and stare at the cabinet in front of me as the pain galvanizes. Nothing comes out. I realize that if these doctors don’t figure out what’s wrong with me soon, I would have to kill myself.

  It was the first time that I had confronted that idea without crying. I had experienced depressive episodes and suicidal ideation before, but it was always like scratching a mosquito bite. It felt good to think about dying. I had imagined exotic scenarios that implicated those who had wronged me- donating a kidney to someone and then dying afterwards. I used to dream about my funeral attended by all my friends but not my boyfriend. I used to imagine my dad’s horrible girlfriend discovering my body in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. I used to associate suicide with relief, justice, redemption.

It was only then, sitting on the commode, experiencing this otherworldly pain, that I felt that sadness of it all. It was only then that I realized that I didn’t deserve to die. I never did deserve to die. It was only then that I saw my own death as a tragedy. It was only then that I saw the injustice of my own death. It was then that I knew I couldn’t surrender.

[aurically]

Well, pre-Love Day was a bust. Fuck. Remember how NYE I said I wasn’t feeling well? Well, I had thought maybe, possibly, potentially I was pregnant. My period was a few weeks late, but I’ve been too nervous to take a test. We want to be parents, someday, but with everything going on, it just wouldn’t the right time. Well, today–er, yesterday, I got ready for dinner with Dane. I was so excited. I had some nausea and stomach pain, that I chalked up to butterflies… but, with my period being so late and having some weird symptoms like nausea, fatigue, bloating, some weight gain, I was going to tell Dane my suspicions over dinner and see if maybe he wanted to go get a test with me and let’s be together when I take it… well, NONE of that happened. Instead… the whole evening went to shit, REAL quick.

Dane picked me up, we took some cute selfies and the like and headed to the restaurant. We didn’t even get the chance to put the car in park in the lot when all of the sudden I got this incredibly sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I mean, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It quickly dissipated, but Dane and I made the decision to nix going to dinner and just go back to the house and watch a movie. 

We got to the house without incident. Changed into some comfy lounging clothes and piled onto the couch. Not even an hour later, another sharp pain. I couldn’t move.

“Baby, this isn’t okay. We’re going to the hospital.” Dane insisted. I didn’t fight it, mostly because I couldn’t. I was hysterically in pain. So, he swiftly grabs his coat and carries me out to the car. He speeds to the city hospital and carries me inside.

The nice front desk nurse looked so concerned. “How… may I help you? Oh, my goodness, is she okay?”

“No! She’s been having terribly sharp pains in her stomach and I don’t know? It might be her appendix?! Help us.”

“Do not worry, sir. Let’s get her straight to a room.”

So, the nurse grabbed a wheelchair and Dane put me in it and they wheeled me off straight to the nearest bed. 

Dane and I waited an hour and a half for a doctor to come in.

I was in so much pain. But, he was there trying to help me push through it. A nurse finally came in and gave me an IV of a metric fuckload of morphine. Seriously, cannot tell you how instantaneously I felt better… and how up in the sky I felt, too… o.O Finally Nurse Hammond and Dr. Kuja came in. (I am not shitting you, they put me on some powerful stuff. I kept calling Dr. Kuja, “Dr. Kujo”…. I’m so embarrassed.)

“Hello, I’m Dr. Kuja and this is Nurse Hammond. What seems to be the problem, Ms. Hays?” Dr. Kuja said looking down at my chart.

I giggled some.“Hi, Dr. Kujo!… uh, I MEAN KUJA! Kuja… with an ‘A’!” 

“Dr. Kuja, the admitting attending, Dr. O’Neil, ordered me to give Ms. Hays a morphine drip; 5mg every 2 hours. Her admitting heart rate and blood pressure were through the roof suggesting high levels of pain reactions. She was also running a mild fever,” Nurse Hammond interjected after my faux pas.

Dr. Kuja gave a hearty laugh. “Thank you, Nurse.” He turns to me, “Ms. Hays, it’s quite all right. You’re not the first patient on morphine to call me Kujo. In fact, most of the nurses around here call me Kujo as a joke. I find it quite humorous.” Nurse Hammond snickered.

I went into the details of what I had been experiencing the past few weeks. And my suspicions of being pregnant. Dane gave me a very perplexed look, but didn’t say anything. 

“Ah, I see. Yes. Okay, well, let’s get some blood drawn and Nurse Hammond here will take a urine sample and do an ultrasound immediately. After I go over your results, I’ll be back to discuss them with you.” Nurse Hammond nodded and went to the corner of the room to get the ultrasound machine set up by the bed.

“Ms. Hays, this is going to be quite cold. But, it’ll warm up quickly.” Nurse Hammond said to me as she squirted a bunch of gel on my stomach. Dane sat on the very edge of his seat, holding my hand the whole time. I saw worry in his eyes, but also a glimmer of, excitement? I think he was starting to think I was pregnant, too.

“Oh…” Nurse Hammond said slightly under her breath.

“What’s wrong, Nurse?”

“Andrea, please. And honey, I’m just a nurse. I can’t diagnose to you what I’m seeing…” “Diagnose?!”, Dane cut her off. “Medical speak, Mr. Winters. Let me get these results sent to Dr. Kujo,” she winked, “and he’ll be in with you shortly. Do feel free to call on one of us if you need anything.” She quickly pushed the ultrasound machine back to the corner and darted out of the room.

Dane and I sat there for another 3 hours waiting for results and for the doctor to come back in. During that time, we discussed a few things. “Why didn’t you tell me you thought you were pregnant?” “Honey, with everything going on… it just… I couldn’t bring myself to pile on to the mountain of shit that is going on in our lives.” “Ray, listen to me… a baby would **not ** be ‘piling on’ to any ‘mountain of shit’, got it. And if you are pregnant, we’re going to figure it out. I promise.” He kissed me on the forehead and sat at the end of the bed until I dozed off.

“Baby, baby.. Wake up. The doctor is back.”

I wake up and at the end of my bed stood Dr. Kuja and Nurse Hammond.

“Well, Ms. Hays. We have your results back. I’m afraid to say, you are not pregnant.”

“Then what’s wrong with her, Dr. Kuja?” Dane asked disappointedly.

“It appears she has quite a few ovarian cysts, focusing on her right ovary. What’s causing her pain is this:” he pulls out an ultrasound that looked like an image of some far off planet. “See these black spots?” We both nod. “Those are the cysts. See this much larger black spot?” Again, we nodded. “That’s the sucker that’s causing your pain. It’s a hemorrhagic cyst.”

“What in the world is a hemorrhagic cyst?!” I asked in sheer panic.

“It sounds worse than it is, Ms. Hays. A hemorrhagic ovarian cyst is a cyst sac that fills with blood instead of the usual fluids most benign cysts fill with. This one has burst, which is what has caused your extreme pain. And it is a very painful affair, I’m afraid. And due to the fact that you have several cysts, and you now have a history of a hemorrhagic cyst, your chances of forming more in the future are high. I am going to prescribe you some antibiotics to deter any possible infections from forming due to the burst, and some pain killers for the next week. You will likely have some irregular vaginal bleeding until the cyst fully drains itself, and you will continue to be in pain. I’m also referring you to immediately see your gynecologist as soon as possible because I am suspecting these other cysts are PCOS.”

“What’s PCOS?”

“Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. In short, a woman’s hormones go all wonky and cause the ovaries to form multiple cysts. Usually, it’s completely harmless, just takes some medicine to regulate hormones and such. But, it can be incredibly painful if left untreated. Now, I’m not for certain you have PCOS because I didn’t run all the tests, those are for a personal doctor to run as they take days to have the results return, but I wouldn’t be shocked. Do go ahead and make an appointment with your OBGYN soon, Ms. Hays. I hope you start to feeling better. Nurse Hammond will be back shortly with your discharge papers, prescriptions and two doses of the painkillers to tide you over until the pharmacies open in the morning.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Kuja.”

And that’s that. At least it’s nothing life threatening. It’s now 4am. I’m exhausted and I need to get some rest. Dane has decided to stay the night with me so I don’t have to walk up and down the stairs by myself. I’m going to try like hell to still do Eli’s little Love Day surprise for Addison later on today… ugh… later on today. I need to go to sleep.

Kisses, Ray