#so me and my therapist are trying to slowly introduce joy and rest into my life like an infant eating solids

[gxlden-angels]

"The Lord loves a cheerful giver :)" I'll cheerfully give him these hands

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 2: Coffee Shop / Tattoo Parlor / Flower Shop / Other Retail AU

Coffee and other ways to heal the soul.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Valhalla arc (mentioned), coffee, NCIS cameo

AN: Day 2 of @tropetember. I was really struggling with the coffee shop AU but once I got going, really got way too into it and could probably pad this out into a short series. Is that something people would be interested in?

Also, not really sure if I managed to capture Spencer but remember this is an AU and that's my excuse!

Enjoy!

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 2.4k

One of the biggest advantages of owning one of the few coffee shops in Quantico that wasn't part of a massive chain, was the constant stream of senior FBI and Navy personnel desperate for high quality, well made coffee. It had become such a lucrative venture in fact that you could afford to hire enough staff to rarely even have to be behind the counter at all.

The surge in popularity has even allowed you to convert one of the spare upstairs rooms into a meeting room. In hindsight, you should have converted more because once your regulars found out about it, there had been outright war between the Navy and FBI to try and get meetings booked in. A couple of your regulars had even managed to get both institutions to hardwire connections so they could host even more briefings and meetings in the friendly, comfortable space.

Today's winners were a Unit from the FBI, who had booked it out for a whole day. Aaron Hotchner, the BAU chief, came in most mornings and was a real sweetheart. You'd been trying to get him to drink something other than his normal americano since his return from Afghanistan a few months ago, but had not been successful so far. You were excited to meet the rest of the legendary team. He always spoke fondly of them when he bought extra coffees to boost morale.

With that in mind, you quickly throw together the pastries and beverages he'd preordered for the start of their session and head in to do a quick check that everything was ready.

Like any meeting room, there was a large table in the center but you'd made sure to surround it with comfy and artfully mismatched chairs. The floor was a deep walnut colour and matched the numerous floating shelves which were covered in plants and books. The place was homey and extended the cosy chic look you had been trying to achieve throughout the shop.

After a little bit of organising, including making sure the FBI cables were accessible and tidying any of the Navy’s equipment, you head downstairs to the main space.

Charlotte and Jessica were behind the tills this morning, making quick work of the line and exuding friendly helpfulness out of every pore. They were both grad students and you were already dreading them graduating. Their natural effervescence would be impossible to replace.

To pass the time until your booking arrives, you catch up with NCIS Agent McGee who is on the coffee run, trying not to hold him up too long in case he ends up getting in more trouble with his big bad boss. Apparently Agent DiNozzo had knocked over Gibbs coffee but McGee had then slipped in it and done some minor damage to some of the equipment. He told you he much preferred coffee run to door knocking duty round a 6 block radius like DiNozzo.

As you wrap it up, a group of people enter the shop, led by a woman in colourful clothes and a sunshine demeanour. It's not until you see Agent Hotchner's suited and booted presence bringing up the rear that you realise this is the infamous BAU.

Donning your friendliest persona, you politely excuse yourself from McGee and head to greet them, calling Aaron's name across the way.

The profilers seem surprised by your use of their bosses name but quickly shake it off as introductions are made. You receive hand shakes off most of them with the exception of Penelope, who gives you a hug because of course she does, and Dr Spencer Reid who gives you a shy wave and looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

It didn't take a profiler to see the physical distance between the genius and the rest of the group. He was always a step away from the nearest person and automatically avoided any physical contact from them.

How strange.

Brushing it off you lead them upstairs and get them settled, letting them know that they're welcome to come and go in the shop as need and that all their drinks would be added to the discounted tab and left them too it, all the while trying not to puzzle over the handsome loner and his cute sweater vest.

-----

If there was one thing Spencer Reid hated more than anything, it was team building.

Normally, back before everything happened, he would just grit his teeth and bear it. That's been a lot harder after finding out that Emily was alive.

Processing the joy at her being alive and the rage at being led to believe she was dead in the first place, particularly by the people he trusted the most, was not easy. He was trying to forgive them. He was trying to let it go, to accept the damage but move forward.

It was still a work in progress.

That's why, when Hotch announced a team building/meeting day, he had momentarily considered resigning. Though there was no longer outright hostility between himself and Jennifer, things weren’t exactly comfortable between himself and half of the team. The only bright side to this whole endeavour was the location. No coffee shop lasted long in Quantico unless the coffee was actually good. It was a small mercy.

He followed the rest of the team into the coffee shop, eyeing the surroundings and taking note of the other visitors. As the rest of the team joked about, he stayed back, simply waving at the nice owner of the shop when Hotch introduced them.

They appeared to be about his age which was very impressive considering the success of the café. And there were a couple of sci-fi references hidden in the décor that he would have loved to ask about, but he doubted they’d appreciate him going off about Star Trek this early in the morning. Instead he just gave a tight-lipped smile and followed the team upstairs.

Spencer tried his best to concentrate throughout the morning but to say he was relieved when they were left to their own devices for lunch would be an understatement.

-----

After a productive morning in the office, you wander back out to the main part of the shop to check on things. The lunch rush can be unforgiving but the girls seem to have it in hand. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday lunchtime.

What you didn’t expect to see was Spencer Reid hidden away at one of the back tables with a ginormous book in front of him, a small scowl on his face and the rest of his team nowhere in sight.

You agonise silently with yourself for a few moments before you decide to head over. You figure if he doesn’t want company he’ll let you know but you feel drawn to him. It was strange. Maybe it was just your instinctive need to collect strays.

You smile gently at him when you reach his table, indicating the seat opposite him in question. He gives a quick nod but doesn’t fully look at you.

“Everything ok?” you ask.

He takes a moment and seems to be considering his options. He looks at you with a little tilt of his head, likely questioning your motives.

Finally, he seems to decide you have no sinister intention and quietly replies “I just wish things could go back to how they were”.

You had heard about the events involving the BAU in the last year or so. It had been a hot topic of gossip in the shop numerous times. Aaron also occasionally talked about his guilt at what he put his team through when he stopped by, needing a friend to talk to. It’s the first time, however, that you think in depth about how faking a close friend's death likely affected the team members who were unaware.

This isn’t to say you didn’t care or didn’t think that it must have been terrible for them. You did, but had agreed with the justification that it was for Agent Prentiss’ safety, that finding out she was alive would make up for it. It’s apparent in the sadness of Dr Reid’s expression that that isn’t the case.

“Can I touch you?”

His eyes shoot up in surprise and he hesitantly nods. You gently grasp his hands, wrapping your fingers around his.

“I can’t even imagine,” you begin slowly, “how difficult this must be. But if you ever need to talk to someone, you’re always welcome here”

He gives a short, sharp nod and squeezes your fingers which you take to mean thank you.

“Also, this is totally not my place but, a therapist, one outside the Bureau? Might not be such a bad idea?” You give a sardonic grin and admit ” It worked for me”

After you give his hands another quick squeeze, you leave him to ponder your statement and head back to your office. Paperwork doesn’t do it self after all.

You hope Spencer manages to find some support though and decide that if he wants it, you’d be more than willing to help him.

---------------

It was a few weeks before Spencer Reid showed up in the coffee shop again.

It was early evening and you only had a few people in. You’d opted to close up tonight to ensure Jessica, who had been on the afternoon shift, had time to work on her assignment for class. She’d been complaining about it for the last few days.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your thoughts and you glance up to see who has entered. When you realise who it is you can’t help but smile.

“Fancy seeing you here Dr Reid” you say in greeting. He gives you a small smile in return.

“Well, it’s good coffee and, erm, the company’s good?”

You understand the question implicit in that comment and glance around at the few remaining patrons. They all have a beverage and it’s a quiet night so you can afford to take a step out behind the counter between orders.

“Sure, let me make us both a drink and then I’m all yours.”

You take his order (how much sugar?!?!) and get you both sorted out and settled into a small booth. You look at him, taking in the nervous expression on his face and let him settle in and start the conversation.

“I, erm, I took your advice”.

“That’s good. Are you finding it’s helping? Having someone outside of work to talk things through with?”

He nods his head.

“One of the things she pointed out was that so much of my life is wrapped up in work, that when things go wrong I don't have an external support system. Not that I didn't know that already but, someone else pointing it out made me realise how much if an impact it has.”

You bob your head thoughtfully, acknowledging his comment but not forcing him to say more.

“She suggested I try to find people outside of work to talk to. I was... I was wondering if you could be one?”

His nerves seem to have failed him slightly as he can’t look you in the eye, but you give him a big grin. Of course you want to spend time with this lovely man.

“I’d love to” you say, which gets him to look up and give you a smile in response.

You spend nearly an hour, with occasional breaks to serve customers, chatting to him before it becomes necessary to close up. He starts gathering his things but you’ve been enjoying his company so much you can’t bear to let him go. Instead, you check if he’s in a rush and, after confirming he has nothing else planned, invite him to hang around and grab something to eat from the diner down the street.

By the end of the night, you’re glad the diner is 24hr. You completely lose track of time, fascinated by the sheer amount of information he can provide and the passion with which he infodumps. It’s extremely endearing.

“I had a lovely time tonight” you tell him as you walk towards your apartment. You don’t live too far from the coffee shop and he had very gallantly offered to walk you home. “I’d love to do it again some time?”

He smiles and nods in agreement before asking for your phone number.

“I don't really like technology that much so I don’t have a smartphone and I don’t really check it that much and prefer speaking to texting…”

“Spence” you say, a little laugh in your voice as you interrupt. “Whatever works best for you. I’m not going to suddenly vanish on you, promise.”

You seem to have hit his worries a little too closely as he sways a little awkwardly, gaze wandering down to his feet.

“Can I hug you?” you check. His answer is to wrap his arms around you and you gently sway the both of you side to side.

He lets go and turns to head back out into the night as you call out “If you’re ever missing me, I know a place you can get great coffee. I can get you a good discount.” A laugh stutters from his lips and he wishes you a good night.

Leaning against your door you sigh happily to yourself. It’s always a good feeling making a new friend.

--------------

It had been over a year since the last time the BAU had booked (and managed to attend the booking). In that time, you’d converted another room upstairs into a meeting room, as well as setting up a shared work/study space in a room out the back.

You grin as you see them all enter, fascinated by the way this family of agents interact with each other. There’s even a tall, handsome genius who stands within the group, laughing and joking along with the rest.

Spencer greets you with a gentle kiss to your lips and it causes uproar from his colleagues. You don’t react much, you just turn to them and shrug.

“Do you know how many germs are passed in a handshake? It’s much safer to kiss.”

Your genius just laughs and wraps an arm around you, guiding the whole group upstairs, his friends playfully demanding details the whole way.

[the-bau-quinjet]

I want to drive away with you

Chapter 12 of In Breakable Heaven! 

Summary: The show from reader’s perspective.

Warnings: angst

Word count: ~2100

As you finish preparing for your mini-show in the dressing room, you can’t help but think about the voicemail you left for Spencer on your way to the venue.

 “Hey Spence. I miss you, but you already know that. I’m doing a sort of mini show at 7 tonight. It would mean the world to me if you came… Look, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore, but I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely. Not when I need you now more than ever… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to guilt you into coming, I just really want you to be there. For the moral support. The rest of the team is coming, so you won’t be alone. That’s it I guess. Bye.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you remember what he said to you the night he left. Shaking your head to clear the memories, you focus on the positive. That’s what your therapist has been telling you to do anyway. So, you switch focus and think of your friends. You are so grateful for the rest of the BAU team coming to support you after everything that happened. You are not alone, no matter how much it feels like it sometimes.

 With that reminder ringing in your ears, you get up to walk on stage as you hear the announcer introducing you. Taking a seat on the stool behind the lone mic center stage, you look into the audience. You know you shouldn’t look for him, but you can’t help it. Your eyes meet those of Derek, JJ, Emily, Penelope, and to your surprise, Hotch and Rossi. They had never come before. You give the group a small wave, choosing to ignore the lack of Boy Genius.

 You finally bring the mic to your mouth and greet the crowd “How are y’all doing tonight?” The crowd cheers you on as you continue introducing the show you have planned. “Now, you might be expecting the usual, but I’m afraid I only have three songs for you tonight. Just trying to get back into the swing of things, ya know?” Your abduction had been all over the news, which is probably why the crowd feels bigger than normal. “I hope you enjoyed the earlier acts though!”

 “The first song encompasses how I was feeling about a month ago. Before everything happened.” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to erase the bad and remember the good. “It was the happiest I have ever been. I had a great group of friends, a job I loved, a hobby that helped me bring some of that joy to you guys, and… the most incredible boyfriend.” You purposefully ignore the shocked gasps from some your friends in the front row. If you met their eyes right now, they would be sure to figure everything out.

 “Most of that is still true and for that I am incredibly grateful. Without further ado, here we go!” This song reminds you of everything you’ve lost rather than everything you still have, but it was the only one you could think to sing to truly encompass how happy you were a month ago.

 The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met.

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now, I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.

 You wave your hand in the air in a “that’s only sort of true” way. There was no way in hell you could ever read ALL the books beside Spencer’s bed. To your relief, the crowd laughs at your slight joke while you continue with the song.

 I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh huh, that’s right.

Darling, you’re the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Uh huh, that’s right.

Darling, you’re the one I want in paper rings. In picture frames. In dirty dreams.

Oh, you’re the one I want.

 You sing through the second verse without a hitch, coming up to the bridge.

 I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me Pr-aby boy.

 You almost messed up there, could’ve given everything away with one stupid word. It doesn’t look like the team noticed though, since they are all dancing around with the biggest smiles you’ve seen in a while. They are just glad to see you happy again, even if it is just because you are remembering better times.

 You’re the one I want, one I want.

 You see the applause more than really hear it as the song comes to an end. Your heart is beating way too loud in your ears for you to notice anyway.

 “Thank you! Thank you! This next song is kind of a complete about face. 180 degrees if you will. Actually” you pause to think, “it’s more like 540 degrees.” You take in the confused glances from the audience, still searching for that one mop of slightly curly brown hair. “I feel like I went through every emotion possible, returned to where I started, and then was forcefully turned in the opposite direction.”  You knew Spencer would know exactly what you were talking about if he was there. You said something eerily similar the last time you saw him.

 You can feel the tears again, but you force them back down. You can’t sing and cry at the same time after all. “Clearly, you can tell why I was so happy a month ago. Paper Rings is kind of obvious in that sense. But, 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours,” you glance at your watch before continuing, “and 27 minutes ago every possible ounce of that happiness disappeared.”

 “For those of you who don’t know, I recently went through a fairly traumatic event. My good friends at the FBI saved my life. But after I left the hospital with a new found relief, I went home and my boyfriend, well I guess ex-boyfriend, came over.”

 Here come the tears again. “He didn’t tell me why, but he broke up with me that night. He said he didn’t want to do it while I was in the hospital, so he waited. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I might know now why things changed. But even if I’m wrong, he left. And now, he won’t talk to me.”

 You take a few calming breathes before continuing, “Now I know what you’re thinking. This guy sounds like a complete asshat. And maybe you’re kind of right. But he’s been through more than I could even explain, and I know that it is slowly killing him to know that I went through barely a tenth of what has happened to him. Especially because I know he blames himself. So, I have this next song. To try and explain how him leaving is worse than anything that happened in that building.”

 The intro to the next song begins and you close your eyes. You can’t bear to look at anything right now. You need to solely focus on making it through this song.

 You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time, but I never thought I'd live to see it break.

It's getting dark, and it’s all too quiet, and I can't trust anything now. And it’s coming over you like it’s all a big mistake.

Whoa, holding my breath, won't lose you again. Something's made your eyes go cold.

 You can feel you’re voice straining, but you need to push through to truly convey your emotions. Singing is the only way you know how and you won’t lose that. You can’t.

 Come on, come on don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Something's gone terribly wrong, you're all I wanted.

 Come on, come on don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

 You’re voice breaks at the end, but you’ve got a bit of instrumental to recover. You hold back from really looking at anyone during this song. The only face you want to see is Spencer’s and you didn’t see him anywhere while you searched during the first song. 

 Stood there and watched you walk away, from everything we had. But I still mean every word I said to you.

 He will try to take away my pain, and he just might make me smile. But the whole time, I'm wishing it was you instead.

 Pushing through the next chorus, you know the tears are welling as you practically scream sing your way through the song. Surprisingly, you are very on pitch. At least you still have that.

 I know. I know. I just know, you’re not gone. You can’t be gone, no

 The bridge is so simple, but it’s probably the saddest part for you to sing. One more round of the chorus brings you to the outro.

 You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time.

Never ever thought I'd see it break. Never thought I'd see it.

 A single tear rolls down your cheek as you open your eyes and blink a few times at the lights. You can see the tears streaming down Penelope’s face and sad expressions in every single one of your friends eyes. Even Hotch seems choked up.

 You pull yourself together to finish the show. “I know what you’re thinking” you joke with the crowd. “What the hell happened to you?” You take another calming breathe. “Well, a lot. But every song I am singing tonight, they are all to the same person. The one person in the world who understands me more than anyone else. You should all know, however, the ‘he’ I was referring to when I sung ‘he will try to take away my pain’ is none other than my therapist. Thanks for the all the help Doc, I’m trying to do what you said.” You can feel the smile returning to your face, even if it is a little forced.

 “The last song I have for you is what I wish I had the chance to say that night 3 weeks, 4 days 6 hours,” again you check your watch, “and now 33 minutes ago.” You laugh at the ridiculous nature of remembering it down to the minute. Something you are so sure Spencer knows without having to think about.

 “It’s something I need you to know.” You don’t look at anyone in particular while you sing, but you know exactly who you are singing to as the song starts.

 One look. Dark room. Meant just, for you. Time moved, too fast. You played, it back.

Buttons, on a coat. Light hearted joke. No proof. Not much. But you saw, enough.

Small talk, he drives. Coffee, at midnight. The light, reflects. The chain, on your neck.

He says, look up. And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch.

You felt enough.

This song is so beautiful in its simplicity. You’re grateful for the easy melody since your emotions are weighing on you so heavily right now. 

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you.

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you.

You can see it with the lights out, lights out.

You are in love, true love.

You are in love.

 It hurts more than expected to say those words about Spencer without actually looking into his eyes.

Morning, his place. Burnt toast, Sunday. You keep, his shirt. He keeps, his word.

And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much, but it said enough.

You kissed, on sidewalks. You fight, and you talk. One night, he wakes. Strange look, on his face.

Pauses, then says, you're my best friend. And you knew what it was,

he is in love.

 Since the first time you heard that song, it has been one of your favorites. It was almost bittersweet to sing that song to Spencer right now when you weren’t even sure he was in the audience. 

 As the final chords of the song end you take a few deep breaths, just enough to say goodbye to the crowd. 

“Thank you all so much for coming! We can only hope for and work towards a better future than the present we find ourselves in. Goodnight.” You took a steadying breath as you rose from your stool and went back to your dressing room. The tears started streaming down your face the minute you turned away from the crowd, and at the moment you had no idea if they would ever stop. You immediately put on your go to emotional TS playlist “for when you are feeling everything all at once” and sunk to the floor.

 tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @akuri-shinsou @prongsyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @sherlockmarvelharrypotter

[jujywrites]

Always Falling Down, part I

This was part of a rarepair gift exchange. mricj and I got matched because sometimes u CAN manifest what u want for urself~~~

This is Rosawatts for sure, but also very poly, very id-ficcy and very long (just under 7k....). with a small part 2 pending because WE BUILT THIS SHIP WE SAIL IT HOWEVER WE WANT oh and a playlist (click plz~)

PS: the plotbunny emerged from "i thought you (loved me)" by livj707. One of my top 10 TTM fics and the rest of them are in there too!

AO3

FF.net

or keep reading

(Part II here)

~~~~~

~We hold on to the good times and the right now and the long nights~

Can you hear when I say "I have never felt this way"? (I can't see you and me and her without each other)

Roxie

You were 8 or 9 when you realized that you responded to people’s emotions in an unusual way. Your mom’s anger made you feel like there was a small fire in your belly, no matter the amount or what the anger was directed at. Her joy when hummingbirds visited the garden you both made to attract them made you feel invincible. When she felt sad, everything looked gray.

So what, you thought. She was your mother; of course you’d be attuned to her mood. The same with the rest of your family. But there was a slight wrinkle in that logic— you sensed the emotions of your friends at school, and that affected you similarly, if with less intensity.

Soon after realizing that, though, came the realization that even friends of friends, even complete strangers, had emotional signals that you picked up without trying. You brought this up with one of your dad’s sisters (one of your favorite family members, were you ever pressed to admit it), because you couldn’t quite stomach having your mom worry about you. You were pretty sure what happened to you wasn’t normal.

Your aunt introduced you to the term empath, said her wife had the same ability that you did. She taught you ways to handle the side effects (as she put it), how to channel and control it, to some extent. Even with this, though, things got more complicated as you grew older. People’s emotions got louder.

The maelstrom this caused in you was nigh unbearable and (luckily?) manifested itself as stereotypical moody teenage behavior, when you weren’t wrestling with the attendant physical ailments. That led you to what’s turned out to be a lifelong interest in astronomy and stargazing. Or more accurately, it increased your at-the-time budding interest exponentially. Others’ emotions couldn’t sink their hooks into you, not when your mind was buried in a book or when you were alone outside on a clear warm night. Stargazing served as meditation, too, and slowly you gained a better grasp on this whole empath thing.

That was how you met Neil. He lived in another school district; somehow both of you claimed a little park in town as a prime stargazing spot. He said his gramps took him gazing every summer, and Neil found he wanted to do it more often than that. You didn’t know much about him besides that and some shows and video games he was into, but that was hardly a deterrent to your talking a blue streak in the rare times when both of you were done watching the sky. You talked about your hobbies, how school went, how your little brother was doing, what music you were obsessing over. You told him everything except your biggest secret, and even though he didn’t always acknowledge it all, you could feel he took it all in. He was the first person who had ever done that.

Then he moved away with hardly a goodbye, and that was that. You remember feeling hurt and sad for longer than a day, maybe a week or two, but time has worn away the memories of how you felt. College, of course, was the next big chapter in your life, when your present-day reputation for being bubbly and carefree developed. That had always been with you; college life simply made you turn it up to eleven, a coping mechanism of sorts in navigating the world as an empath.

Strange how the peace you found back then has led you right back to that feelings maelstrom, into the difficulty of parsing what belongs to you and what doesn’t.

You didn’t see Neil until you got to SigCorp, at which point all the moments he was in your periphery during training slapped you across the face, along with hazy childhood memories.

“You’re Roxie, right?”

And all the years without him collapsed together. Maybe you didn’t see much of each other, but your friendship still easily restarted, helped along by your shared sphere of work.

You’d say he’s your best friend, if you were asked.

Meeting Eva was a different kind of slap.

You could count the number of crushes you had on one hand, your relationships on six fingers. You hadn’t felt love yet.

You fell fast and hard for Eva. Then you got back up, and cut that off quicker than breathing, because no way would someone as cool, collected and straight-laced as her would ever be interested in you. (Plus, you had no idea if she was queer and that’s not something to ask someone you just met.)

And then there was Neil.

The two of them had capital-h History, obvious from the moment you saw them together. If anyone knew how much time you spend thinking about your friends’ relationship, the effort you put into trying to push them together, how much time recently you’ve invested in worry (especially over Eva, but Neil too) you’d get therapist recommendations at the very least—

It’s not just wishful thinking. Your empathy gives you a sixth sense as to which people are meant for each other, and/or are dealing with feelings towards each other (which also gave you a leg up in office gossip). And Neil and Eva fit so well; that’s why they were paired together, why you convinced Rob they should be a team, despite how much you liked working with her. Not that he needed convincing. That’s how obvious their compatibility was. And yes, this was despite their bickering (and Neil’s pranks on his partner).

What drew you to Rob, as a colleague and as a person, and helped you decide to permanently partner with him, is how quiet his emotions are. He’s hardly unfeeling, despite what others (like Neil) might say. No, it’s just that his emotions are blissfully subtle. Sometimes when you feel them flare up it’s like a gift.

His emotions toward you aren’t subtle, not these days. And sometimes you feel terrible for relying on him as much as you do. But that’s another thing.

Eva

The cases that go wrong from the beginning are always easier on you than the ones that go wrong when you’re so close to closing them out. Talking to loved ones afterwards is the common denominator, the same intensity of pain no matter what went wrong when. But you’ve grown used to that pain, used to letting it glance off your skin because this is your job, and perfection is impossible.

You thought you had, anyway. The case you failed barely twenty minutes ago, the one from which you’re walking to the car with Neil now, found a chink in your armor. A stupid rookie-level mistake that both of you believed you’d fixed came back to bite you; you almost didn’t log out of the machine before your client flatlined. You owned up to it, the client’s brother took a swing at Neil and tried at you, and the only reason you’re both out of there alive is the brother’s wife calming him down.

There’s still paperwork to finish. You did the bare minimum before getting the hell away from that place. And Neil has one whopper of a black eye that he’s too bullheaded to do anything about, because he had a spare pair of glasses and that makes everything just fine.

In the car, the practically-visible wall between you and Neil is even more unbearable given the post-case mood, and it makes you feel sick. This is far from the first case you’ve failed, with or without him. Hell, it’s not even the first case involving bodily harm directed at either of you. It still feels like the last straw. But you’re not going to quit, you tell yourself. Someone has to keep fighting.

Neil may have stopped trying, but there’s nothing stopping you from fighting enough for you both.

Robert

For the most part, you’re an analytical person. You’re able to compartmentalize your thoughts from your emotions, and often able to see past others' emotions to what might be eliciting them. And that’s why your work at Sigmund fits you so well, why you chose memory traversal over being a tech, as much as machines in general and Sigmund’s in specific interest you.

Your personality and Roxie’s make you an excellent team. Even though her default mode is happy-go-lucky, you’ve been partners long enough to know that she’s the kind of person who can feel everything, all at once, and weather it. That talent must have always been there, under the surface; it’s probably what drew you to her in the first place.

Being able to compartmentalize, however, only gets you so far. You’re hardly immune to base emotions, yours or others’. You get frustrated when you know something is wrong, someone’s having a problem, and that your clear-headed distance from the situation isn’t helping fix it.

Watts and Rosalene, one of your best teams, one of the best you’ve ever seen since you joined Sigmund, have been backsliding for some time. Their ratio of completed cases to failed ones is still good (and they’ve had some brilliant successes), but their previous case was a failure and the mood leading up to their next one is not promising, to say the least. They’ve had innumerable rough patches, no question, but even you can tell there’s a good bit of the personal getting muddled with the professional in this patch. You’re in the unenviable position of having to monitor them, getting closer to explaining to the higher-ups why they are still viable.

Viable. What a cold word. Makes you clammy to think of it in reference to your colleagues. Your almost-friends. It’s... bothersome, to see them fracturing, or whatever less-ominous thing might be happening.

On top of that, there’s something off about Roxie. A dimming of her natural light. The only other time that’s happened is when her brother got sick; he’d been in dire straits before he recovered, and the recovery had been hard.

You know this because Roxie told you. You seem to be good at listening. If only you weren’t abysmal at asking. Not that Watts— Neil— would divulge anything, and Rosalene— Eva— seems even less likely to.

You’d ask Roxie but with her, you’re terrified of not knowing what to say.

Neil

You could’ve decked that guy. Definitely could have. For once it isn’t braggadocio— the things he said about you and Eva made you see red. He telegraphed really badly too, so you could sidestep him (he was like two feet taller than you and you aren’t a total idiot), but taking a swing at Eva?! Good thing the guy’s wife stepped in or things would’ve gotten even more fucked. Because of you and for you.

Of course, with the adrenaline gone, your mutual antisocial...ness, toward each other (what? You can’t word when you’re tired) rushes in to fill the vacuum. It’s frigid out too, which is great. And your face kind of—

“Ah, fuck me,” you mutter as your piece-of-crap company car decides to break down in the middle of an empty road.

Eva sighs epically. Her breath clouds. “Shit.”

Ha, she legit swore.

Your momentary amusement is bulldozed by the inconvenient need to talk. The second you’re alone alone with her, in lulls before or after cases, in downtime at the office, the words bubble up in your throat, more insistent every time. And every time you try to open your mouth, they disappear. It’s been like this for weeks, ever since The Incident.

She found the not-from-Sigmund company letter. She found the (other) pills. Unlocked door or not, you haven’t forgiven her for the breach of privacy. She hasn’t forgiven you for keeping (those kinds of) secrets from her. And here you are now.

You don’t know how much more you can take.

Eva speaks before you can get your voice working. “I’m calling Roxie.”

“How?” Flipping open your phone, you glare at it. “No reception out here.”

“We passed a payphone on the way here. Shouldn’t be more than a 5 minute walk.”

You just gape at her while she bundles up in her scarf and hood. “It’s minus fifty!”

Her eyes meet yours for half a second. “Don’t exaggerate, Neil. Not tonight.”

And, predictably useless, you watch her get out of the car and start walking, snowflakes shining around her in the dimming headlights.

Roxie

One of the things about being an empath is, it’s easier to tell when someone’s romantically interested in you. (Too bad there’s no one-night-stand-interest sensor.) That feeling has a certain color to it, distinguishing it from friendship or dislike. And it’s the reason why you haven’t dated much. Every time you’ve felt it, it’s been like a flipped switch, a lightning bolt, leaving you unprepared and uncomfortable every time. Sometimes it’s been because you don’t return their feelings, sometimes because you need a few days to adjust to the idea. Even with one of the ones you liked back (a post-college roommate, because you may be an empath but that doesn’t exempt you from so-called clichés), it petered out eventually when you didn’t fit together anymore.

With Rob, it’s different. So subtle you don’t realize right away. And so soft it’s easy to lean into and pretend you don’t quite know how he feels, keep your already intimate friendship separate from that other kind of intimacy.

You like him. Want to like him as more than a friend, the way he likes you. If you could only let go of your ridiculous double crush.

There’s only so much room a heart should have, anyway.

Eva

The incongruity of using payphones hits whenever you have to use one, which thankfully is extremely rare. You’ve learned the hard way to keep a small stash of quarters within easy reach on cases, whether they’re located in the boonies or not. Even with gloves on, your hands are so cold that there’s a lot of fumbling involved in getting them into the machine, more fumbling while you pull up Roxie’s contact info on your phone. Not that you need to; you’ve got it memorized. She’s picked you up more than once.

It hits you square between the eyes this time, so you can’t ignore it: Roxie’s been like emotional glue, from back when you were a greenhorn changing partners every couple of weeks to now. She was the constant for you back then, and then became your tech specialist for a hefty amount of cases until you got paired with Neil. She’s patched things up several times when you wanted to strangle him, by talking you down, or being a mediator, or just listening to you rant. And since tonight is turning into one giant negative thought spiral, you get stuck on how much emotional support you’ve taken from her without giving anything back, alike or different. After this, well, you have to come up with something. A restaurant gift card? Ice cream from that new place down the road from yours? Why is food the only thing you can think of? True, food has meaning, but you sh—

“Hello?”

“Roxie. It’s me. Eva.”

“Hey! What’s up?”

“Hope I didn’t wake you,” you say on automatic. Nope, she’s probably—

“Nah, binging a few Shadow Junction episodes before hitting the hay,” she replies with a giggle.

Over this line, the brief silence is crackly. “I need a favor. Our car died on us…”

“Oh my god wait, you just finished a case!” There’s some scuffling and a small thump; when she speaks again her voice is closer. She must have taken you off speaker. “Where are you? I’ll pick you up ASAP.”

You give her a handful of landmarks, the compass direction. With the dark, the gathering snow, your barely-held-back exhaustion, you're starting to think you might be back in the simulation.

Your hands hurt. At least they still have feeling.

“There’s a storm coming, isn't there? Are you okay?”

“Tired. Cold. But, yeah, okay.”

“Hey, Eva?” Hearing your name wakes you up a little; the weight in Roxie’s tone wakes you up more. “I’ll call a tow for you on the way, but do me a favor and don’t hang up.”

“Sure,” you whisper.

She chatters about the latest plot developments on Shadow Junction for a few minutes; you feel like you're absorbing some of the energy in her voice. Then she says, “I’m getting on the highway now,” and then she says, slightly more subdued, “Do you want to tell me about your case?”

Nope. “It went badly, that’s all.”

More crackly silence. Then: “I know I’m repeating myself, Eva, but… are you okay?”

I’m fine.

I’ll be fine when I’m back home.

I’m used to this. It’s fine.

You say, “I think I’m losing Neil.”

The metal of the phone booth bites into your hand even through the glove. “I… found some things I shouldn’t have.” Roxie can keep secrets, contrary to her reputation. This one shouldn’t be her burden, and so you don’t share what you found. “He’s been conflicted about what we do for a while. I think he might be trying to leave Sigmund. And that’s his prerogative, but I just—”

You trained together, joined Sigmund together, starting planning to join Sigmund together. It’s been an enormous part of both your lives, and now you’ve been a team almost as long as your dream to be a part of this company existed. If Neil walks away, what will you have left?

Roxie. Robert. The McMillans. Eddie, Lisa, Logan. You won’t be alone, and you still have your purpose to guide you. But...

You were so certain you’d see that purpose through with Neil at your side, you don’t see how it would possibly be the same. How you could be the same. Sure puts a dent in your faith that you’re your own person.

You can’t simply ask him to stay. Some small irrational part of your brain thinks bringing up the subject at all will make it come to pass. And those pills. If he does leave, if Sigmund is part of his will too, what if—

You wipe at your wet cheeks and nose. “He’s my partner. I need to fix this, and I don’t— I don’t fucking know how.”

Your voice doesn’t sound nearly as broken as you feel.

Robert

It’s another night of Roxie on your couch, eating takeout from your favorite place and watching a movie together. Neither of you have defined your relationship. You’re fine with that, and you think she is too. And yet...

“Roxanne, I—” You love her, have for a long time now. But you’ve seen how she looks at Eva, and at Neil, and you know she doesn’t have room for you right now, don’t know if she ever will.

You had a chance. You realized your feelings for her well before she fell in love with them (or at least before she began to show signs). The obstacles were too many: she’s half your age, you work together but are sort-of kind-of boss and subordinate. All true. All excuses, too, because you weren’t brave (stupid) enough to take that chance.

But she’s come to you for comfort, and you aren’t an asshole; you won’t deny her that because she has a different measure of your relationship. You love her. You would care for her even without that.

Then she kisses you, and she says, “I’m sorry,” and curls up against you.

Roxie

You’re making a mistake, and you don’t care.

You needed that kiss. It soothed these pangs, this hollowness that’s grown over the past few weeks from whatever is going on between Eva and Neil. And the way Rob’s emotions have started to swirl feels dangerous. Addictive. You want more of that, the power to make his emotions dance with one touch.

It’s getting harder to ignore the voice calling you an awful person.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest. “I know, in every rule book ever made, that I’m leading you on. But I’m not trying to! I’m so sorry. I…” You swallow, sudden clarity hurting your throat. “I think I want to be with you. But, Neil and Eva…”

Saying their names brings fog back over you, reddened by wine. “I can’t explain it,” you whisper, arms around his shoulders. “I can’t... decide.”

You can’t give Rob what he deserves, what you finally know you want to give him, if you can’t make your mind up.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Despite the uncertainty you can practically taste, it feels like a promise. He holds you tighter, and you let yourself sink into him.

Neil

You’re tired, exhausted, and that makes your brain go all overdramatic, but even with that you’re pretty sure this is the shittiest night of your life. You can’t talk to Eva, and she won’t talk to you, and now you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere trying not to freeze to death, watching her freeze to death while she waits for Roxie to rescue both of you from freezing to death. The least you could do is stand by Eva and suffer with her. Then again, maybe she’d rather turn into an Evasicle in peace right now.

You resent how much this case haunts you. You resent even more your inability to walk away from Sigmund and from Eva. They wouldn’t care, but she (probably) would. Does. You wish that didn’t matter so much to you. It shouldn’t anymore, after what she did. The one time you don’t lock your office door. Like a goddamn house of cards. If she’d told you right after instead of sitting on it for a few days, making you wonder what the hell was wrong with her…

You’re such a hypocrite, with all the secrets you’ve kept and keep.

Everything feels gray. Heavy. Tunnel vision, maybe, from the cold and your lack of sleep. Stepping out into the wind chill would probably help you stay awake at this point, except you’re not so far gone as to actually follow through on that.

Eva’s left the phone booth and is standing in the snow, hood blown off from the wind, and she’s too bullheaded to pull it back up. You stare at her hair streaming out, your eyes grow blurry from snowflakes, and your thoughts drift back to distant nights spent with a talkative girl who shared your love of stars.

Roxie

You’re up late at home, watching the Shadow Junction episodes in your queue, when Eva calls you, voice tinny over a payphone. You can’t sense emotions tangibly without being in person, but her and Neil’s voices have a similar effect on you regardless, by now.

You talk with her until you’re on the road.

Something’s wrong besides their dead car, and Eva reveals the tip of the iceberg. You’re relieved. Your instinct hasn’t yet devolved into paranoia.

“He’s my partner. I need to fix this, and I don’t— I don’t fucking know how.”

The turnoff to where they are is coming up. “I can’t imagine how that must feel,” you say into your head mic. A white (gray?) lie. Her pain is making it hard for you to breathe. “But I’m getting you back to the office, and we’ll go from there. One step at a time. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You call the tow place as soon as you end her call. After that, things blur together until your car meets theirs.

The snow hasn’t stuck; it’s the light, fluffy kind that would be nice in another time and place. You can see Eva and Neil hunkered down in their seats.

You can’t get out of your car fast enough.

Eva’s first to get out once you reach them. She hugs you, and, yeah, you could probably die happy now. You’re such a mess.

“Thank god for you, Rox. Seriously.”

You’re such a mess. Neil’s relief nearly makes your knees crumple with its warmth, but there are... layers to it. Those layers and the ever-present knot of worry in your stomach keep you alert. Besides, it’s not (won’t ever be) the time or place to let them know everything you’re feeling. So you smile past your shivers and wave off his comment. “No problem. Of course I’ll bail you guys out of this weather!” Then you force your offer of a ride back out of lungs tightened with the fear that they’ll know what lies behind it. “Brought you some cider. Blankets too. To thaw you out for the paperwork, y’know.”

They accept. Of course they do; they don’t have a choice. If either of them suspect anything they aren’t showing it and dear god you are so overthinking this. “Tow truck should be here any minute, if you don’t mind waiting a bit longer.”

“You have heat in your car. That’s all I care about,” says Neil, and Eva says, “A few minutes more doesn’t matter.”

Then she puts her hand on his elbow as they walk the short way to your car, and all your stupid mushy probably-touch-starved brain can think is, there’s hope.

They settle in the back instead of splitting up over the passenger seat, and dumb hope unfurls further in your chest. You waste no time in unfolding blankets and handing them each a thermos. Eva acknowledges with a grateful smile, and you pretend not to notice how Neil flinches when you drape the blanket over him. You ignore the flashing burn when your hands meet their bodies, ignore how fast your heart is beating.

You have a plan, even though it’s a selfish one.

Eva

Roxie still believes her bright shiny mask is impenetrable, but you know her better than she thinks you do; something is worrying her. A lot. And here she is, practically saving both of your lives, and trying to hide it so you don’t feel any worse—

You’re faced with the sudden urge to kiss her.

She’s been a shoulder to lean on, a friend, a good friend. Why did this feeling burst through now? Did the weight of what you and Neil failed to do, the weight of what you know and what he’s not telling you, crack and cause this shift?

(What would she think if you tried?)

You push the urge away, but feel it beaming through when you take your first sip of cider.

Maybe in another life.

Robert

Roxie’s on the verge of breaking, and you can’t do one thing to help.

She stands by you, thermos in hand, while she waits for Eva and Neil to tie up some legalities and gather what they need. At this hour, the offices are silent to the point of suffocation. Having these three around is reminiscent of oxygen. Even so:

"I was really scared, you know?" she says, smiling, eyes painfully bright. "All I knew was I had to get them. So I did. They’ve been dealing with something tough and I couldn't ask them even though I wanted to and they were nearly hypothermic, Rob!" The noise that comes out of her is a shrill mockery of laughter. "So after they're done here, we're going back to my place. All of us. I don't want them to sleep alone. I'll hogtie Neil if I have to, I swear to god.”

There’s nothing you can say, so you just nod. And then you realize: there is something you can do.

You want Roxie to yourself, of course; most one-sided relationships are likely that selfish. You want her to be happy even more than that. So you excuse yourself to the bathroom, and then double back to the offices and poke through Eva’s ajar door, knocking on the jamb.

They’re both in there, which makes it easier for you. Neil’s already got a file folder stuffed with papers in his arms (which he nearly drops upon seeing you). You also notice the overnight bag next to him, and that Eva’s looking over hers.

(Of course. The weekend’s coming up. You should get your bag too.) That’ll make it easier for Roxie.

You’re also worried about them, so this isn’t only for Roxie’s sake. Eva looks like a shell of herself, and Neil’s posture seems to indicate he’s in pain.

“What’s up, Bob?” Neil plops the file folder into his bag. “We taking too long or something?”

You shake your head. “Take the time you need. I heard from Roxie tonight’s case didn't end well, so I thought I should check in.”

“We’re as all right as we can be,” Eva says, zipping up her bag. “And anyway, we’re done here.”

She stops when you don’t move from the doorway.

“She’s really worried about you two. I don’t know any details, but… go easy on her. She means well even when she’s overbearing.”

You turn and head back to the lobby, feeling overheated.

Neil

Roxie seems like a supernova in the frozen night (and if you weren’t half-frozen you'd be slapping yourself for your dumb metaphorical thoughts), and that light is enough, combined with Eva’s presence, to propel you into Roxie’s car.

You flinch because, somehow, her brief touch feels like it unlocks all your secrets. Ridiculous, because Eva got there first and you really hardly know Roxie.

The paperwork is second nature. You and Eva go to your respective offices; you squint as if that’ll make your handwriting look any less blurry (okay, guess your glasses need cleaning); at the last second you grab your overnight bag, and instead of heading back to the lobby you gravitate to Eva’s office and stand there like a dumbass while she finishes up.

You thump your bag on the floor. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says without turning around.

You busy yourself with organizing your papers. But every so often you glance at her, and when you see she’s going through her overnight bag the urge to ask if she wants to stay at your place, or if you can stay at hers, is overpowering. Don’t ask, don’t— “Do you—”

There’s a knock, and of all people Rob’s standing there, as if tonight isn’t freaky enough. Still. Saved by the Bobert bell.

What he says, along with the sheer incongruity of his presence, knocks you out of your numbness for a few minutes. “Jeez,” you say once he leaves as fast as he came by, “he’s really got it bad for her, doesn’t he?”

A barely-heard whisper in your mind hisses, You should know.

She’s wearing an indecipherable expression. “I suppose so.”

It all makes slightly more sense when you get back to the lobby. Before you or Eva can open your mouths, Roxie’s talking.

“It’s been a really bad night for you two. I’ve been there, you don’t have to tell me anything, and... I won’t ask. But I’ve got a spare room and a couch at my place and you should take advantage of that for the night. I’ve already convinced Rob, and I won’t bother any of you, a-a-and I really think it’s for the best so, so please…”

As exposed as you’re feeling, you can see the appeal of staying at her place. It’s closer than yours, and yeah, okay, your brain cannot handle the logistics of dropping off and heading home. Besides, it’s pretty uncomfortable how upset she seems (even if it’s just about her sinking ship, har), and if this makes her feel better, well. You don’t know what’s going on, feel like you haven’t for hours, but you’re with people you know and who know you, even though they don’t know everything. There’s something to be said for having friends in the same line of work.

This rift between you and Eva hurts far more than you can admit to yourself, never mind anyone else. And even though Roxanne and Rob have no idea what’s happened, happening, between you two, them being with you feels like a bulwark holding back any further damage.

Maybe they might even help fix what’s broken.

Roxie could, maybesomehowsomeway. She seems like that kind of person, the kind who wants to fix people’s issues and is good at it, though who the hell knows where you got that impression. She’s standing closer, an arm’s length— a fact you only realize when she reaches up and takes off your glasses.

Roxie

You didn’t notice how close you’d gotten to Neil and Eva while you were talking, or that you’d been moving at all, until a shadow near Neil’s eyebrow catches your attention. At that instant, your accidental proximity doesn’t matter. Your heart stops for a split second. “Neil, your eye!”

“What about my—”

You remove his glasses. Eva gasps, like it’s A Bad Thing you just did (and okay, you can’t remember ever seeing his eyes before), and you can even sense Rob standing protectively close behind you. “Holy schnikes, Neil!” His right eye is nearly swollen shut, the bruise radiating nearly to his temple on that side and nearly across his nose on the other. “What happened?”

A tidal wave of guilt from Eva makes the room wobble, but Rob catches you.

“Sorry, more tired than I thought,” you say to their combined are you okays. Your nervous smile lands on Rob, who doesn’t look convinced. Still, he helps you upright silently.

Neil squints at you with his good eye. “What do you mean ‘what happened?’”

How can he not know? “It’s totally black??” You look from Neil to Eva and back, panic surfacing slowly. “It’s barely open??? Doesn’t it hurt?????”

Eva sighs, pulls a hand mirror from her bag, and holds it in front of him.

A pause.

“Huh,” he finally says. “Guess that explains why it’s a little harder to see.”

“Our client’s brother punched him.” Eva rubs at the bridge of her nose.

“He did not—”

“He said he was fine, but I thought he was just shrugging it off. I didn’t know he didn’t know! Don’t you remember your glasses broke?”

“He was huge! I dodged him easy! I…” Neil digs through his pockets indignantly for a few moments, then stops. “I don’t have my spare pair. Which… means that those…”

“Are your spare pair,” you finish gently, handing them back to him. “Neil, I think you might have a concussion.”

“Well, shit,” he says, at the same time Eva says, “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“That settles it.” You step back a couple paces, reluctantly. “You’re definitely coming back with me. I have ice and I have some bruise cream that’s pure magic, I swear.”

Neil huffs. “I already said I would.”

“You only thought it because I didn’t hear you.” You eke out a grin. “I’m not a mind-reader, you know!”

“Okay, well, this is my official yes let’s crash at your pad agreement.”

“Heard and acknowledged!”

Putting her bag over her shoulder, Eva says, “Then let’s go,” and leads the way to the elevators.

She and Neil take the backseat again, leaving Rob to sit in the passenger seat. Now that you’ve executed your plan, you seem to have lost whatever energy you had left.

The silence that falls, though, feels comforting instead of stifling.

~~~

The first step through your front door pulls a deep sigh out of you. Rob, Eva, and Neil’s various flavors of tension decrease slightly.

“I’m just gonna… stop for a minute.” So saying, Neil plops onto the floor in front of your stupid-huge couch.

“Sit wherever you like,” you say as you go to the kitchen for an ice pack.

You’re glad you turned the room into something slightly more presentable, even when you weren’t expecting three people to come by— cleaned up junky desserts from the coffee table, put pillows back, et cetera. You wrap a hand towel around the ice pack and bring it back to Neil, telling him to use light pressure. “I’ll go get the supplies.”

As soon as you flick on your bathroom light and see yourself in the mirror, your throat tightens with the need to cry. A few gasping sobs come out of you but, “Okay okay okay,” you whimper, clutching the sink rim, they’re here, you got them, you’ve made them safe now. “Get it together. Snap the hell out of it. You’ve got a job to do.”

You gather everything you think you need and then go back over it: disposable gloves, the arnica bruise cream, antiseptic wipes, washcloth, cup of warm water, 8-hour painkiller/swelling reducer. Then you splash off and dry your face, finagle all of it into your arms, and get back out there.

Neil’s made it onto your couch, probably because Eva’s sitting there now. She’s on his left. There’s space for you between them.

You’re friends. Colleagues. You’ve all been through highs and lows working at Sigmund, in parallel with each other. They can’t read your mind.

You unload your supplies onto the coffee table and take the seat.

Eva lets out a breath.

“Sorry for grabbing your glasses,” you say to Neil as you put on the gloves.

“Eh. Extenuating circumstances.” He shrugs. Takes them off. “‘Kay, do your worst.”

“I’ll be as careful as I can. First, these.” You hold up the wipe pack. “Your skin’s not broken so it shouldn’t sting, but I’ll make sure any excess is gone anyway. Oh—” You grab the pain pills. “Take these first, actually. I can get you water.”

“I have my own… water,” he mumbles, digging through his bag and retrieving a bottle. “Thanks.”

Once he’s taken the pills, you run the wipe all around the bruise, holding your breath while you dab at his closed eye. “Don’t move.” You wet the washcloth then and apply that, making sure no residue stays to get into his eye. That would suck.

“Okay, move if you need to. Magic cream’s the last thing!” You hold it up with a flourish. “Never had to use it on something this, uh,” you fumble for the word, “extensive, but I promise it’ll help.”

“Who died and made you Florence Nightingale?” he said with a chuckle.

You pause in the middle of daubing cream on your finger. “Who?”

“It’s an old reference. Really old. Like, my gramps knew the history, that’s how old.”

“Early 20th century nurse, I believe,” Rob says in a musing tone. “Founded the profession.”

“You’re almost as old as him, so you don’t count.”

“She opened the first nursing school, too,” says Eva.

“And you’re a nerd so you also don’t count.”

“She sounds pretty cool,” you say quietly; you’re close to Neil’s face again, applying the cream from the outside of the bruise in. “Glad someone’s remembering her, still.”

You don’t even notice the silence fall, you’re concentrating so hard.

Neil holds his breath this time when you put the tiniest amount of cream on and around his eyelids, using the barest pressure to rub it in and still wincing in his place.

You’re very close to him. Your hand tingles. Whatever’s charging the atmosphere is impossible to analyze.

“Um. All done.” You pull your hand away, look away, throw the glove into the little trash can under the table.

“Rox?”

You look back at him and try to breathe evenly.

“Just… thanks. For all this. And…” He leans forward to catch Eva’s gaze. “...sorry I got my head bashed in and forgot about it.”

“We should get that checked out tomorrow.” Her voice is worn, but her eyes are soft.

Your worry changes form in that instant, from low-key constancy in your veins to the choking kind of worry that comes from realizing you love them, are in love with them, your best friends who are in love with each other and either don’t know or can’t admit it. They certainly don’t have the room to accept your feelings.

You’ve known this for long enough; it’s hardly a revelation. But something about tonight has crystallized your feelings, made them impossible to bury. Now you know the origin of the physical ache that’s been dogging you for weeks, to the point of becoming a second skin, and you desperately wish you could do anything to ease Neil and Eva’s pain as much for yourself as for them. You just squeeze Neil’s hand, pretend Eva taking yours doesn’t stop your heart, and stare at Robert who graciously doesn’t stare back.

You nod, because you don’t trust your voice. But then you speak anyway. “We’re a team. Mismatched as we may be. We gotta stick together, you know?”

Looking at them both, you see Eva smile, and even Neil has a tiny flash of one when he says, “The four musketeers, or something?”

“Close enough.” Robert, soft, as he eases onto the couch next to Eva.

“No, exactly. One for all, and…” You swallow, looking at Neil, wishing so hard for Eva’s sake. “And all for one.”

Your hands left Eva’s and Neil’s to settle on the couch minutes ago, but now, almost synchronized, their hands cover yours again.

Every ounce of tension rushes out of you, in spite of the fact that your brain is in red alert mode, your heart’s beating fast enough it hurts, and heat’s flashing through you from head to toe.

Maybe one day you’ll tell Neil and Eva everything you feel. Maybe one day you’ll share your biggest secret with all three of them. But for now, all that matters is that you’re all together, safe for tonight, warm and dry. All that matters is the others’ emotions are blending into a shared, soft calm, that you’re almost, just about, being held by them. All that matters is that you all have each other.

For once in a long while, your mind is quiet.

[jancmalandra]

The Monster

On becoming adoptive parents

Taking charge of The Moominvalley Community Center had reawakened The Snork's passion for inventing. He spent the year after it opened perfecting an advanced windmill to supply the Center and his home with electrical power. He spent the year after that persuading the villagers of Moominvalley to adopt his windmills to supply their homes with electricity. Moominpapa took the daring step of being the first to take The Snork up on his offer. Wiring Moominhouse for electricity was a total success and the Moomin family were thoroughly delighted with the results. The rest of the Moominvalley community soon followed suit.

Sniff had done his best to support The Snork through all this, but he didn't begin to understand a thing Snork was saying when he would get enthused about his windmills. What was worse, The Snork fell back into his bad habit of neglecting those he cared about when he became obsessed with his inventions. Fortunately, Sniff turned to Snork Maiden for support as his marriage to her brother came under all this strain. Snork Maiden knew her brother's flaws better than anyone and she proved to be the perfect therapist for the pair of them.

She helped him and Sniff have the very frank discussions that they needed to save their relationship. The Snork promised Sniff that he wouldn't undertake such a large project again and over the following seven years he proved to be true to his word. The Snork and Sniff rediscovered the simple pleasures that had brought them together and caused their love to grow in the first place and they now lived a much more balanced lifestyle. The Snork worked on one small invention per year. They only held events at The Moominvalley Community Center on Fridays and Saturdays and spent every weekday afternoon taking romantic walks in Moominvalley's woods.

One one such walk in late March, the pair heard the sound of loud sobbing coming from a nearby large tree. They carefully approached the tree and saw an opening in its base. The sobbing was coming from inside it. Sniff's mind was instantly taken back to when he had been separated from his parents as a very small child during a big flood and had washed up in Moominvalley. He had had no idea what to do or where he was and had simply curled up in a ball and began crying. Fortunately for him, Moominmama and Moomintroll had been separated from Moominpapa and Moominhouse in the same flood and they found Sniff and together they all found Moominhouse. Sniff had never forgotten how afraid and sad and hopeless he had felt, and his heart instantly went out to whoever was crying inside the hole in the tree.

"H-hello in there? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Won't you let me get you out of there so we can help you?", asked Sniff.

Sniff slowly extended his open paws into the hole and the sobbing stopped and a small, tearful, frightened, yet strangely gruff voice greeted him.

"P-p-please don't eat me! I don't taste good at all, I swear!", the mysterious beast said.

"I wouldn't think of eating you.", said Sniff very gently and kindly, "Let me get you out of there, and you'll see for yourself that there's nothing to be afraid of."

Sniff felt two small, rough, scaly paws wrap around his and he pulled the little beast out of the hole and into the light. They were half the size of Sniff and covered in gray scales. They had a round head with two black horns, large green eyes with vertical pupils and a mouth full of sharp, pointy teeth. Their paws and feet ended in sharp, black claws and they had a long, whip-like tail. There was no avoiding the conclusion that this was a monster's offspring. Sniff would ordinarily have screamed, dropped the creature, and fled for his life. But, the little monster looked at him with deep fear and sadness and began to cry again.

"You lied to me, didn't you?!", said the monster accusingly, "Just eat me quickly, please!"

Sniff immediately wanted nothing more than to protect and love this obviously helpless child, and those instincts overcame his fears. He looked into the monster's eyes with kindness and slowly wrapped them in his arms and gave them a gentle hug. The monster burst into tears of relief and gratitude and returned Sniff's hug powerfully.

Snork was overcome with compassion as well and reached out his paw and patted the beast gently on the head. "Where did you come from? Where are your parents? Are you lost? What's your name?", he asked them.

"My Papa just left me here and went away forever.", said the monster, tearfully, "He said I wasn't tough enough to be his son and that it would be better for me to be eaten by the beasts in Moominvalley! You see, I'm afraid all the time, of everything. I just can't help it! I'm always getting upset and crying over everything. He never even bothered to give me a name. I don't have anywhere to go back to."

"Well, you do now!", said The Snork firmly, "We'll take you to our home. You're going to live with us, and we'll be your parents from now on, I promise!"

"Do you mean it?!", asked both Sniff and the monster at the same time, both with the same hopeful expression on their faces.

"Yes, I do! Come on let's head back there now and get you settled in. Try to think of a name for yourself that you would like in the meantime. Take your time thinking about it. Don't feel like you have to rush.", said The Snork.

The Snork took the monster's paw in his and lead the way through the woods to their house. Sniff followed just behind the monster. They reached The Snork and Sniff's home and the pair showed the monster around all the rooms. Finally, they all sat down at the kitchen table together and The Snork asked the monster what he liked to eat with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Fruits and vegetables.", said the monster a little reluctantly, "I can't stand the thought of eating other beasts, especially the way my Papa does (he shuddered with fear and disgust at the thought). I'm not any good at being a proper monster, am I?" He immediately began crying again.

"You're very good at being yourself, and that's what counts.", said Sniff reassuringly, hugging the monster tenderly.

"Exactly!", agreed The Snork as he set out a plate with two apples, two pears, and and an entire head of raw broccoli in front of the monster, who promptly gobbled it all up. He became relaxed and almost cheerful after that. Snork and Sniff then took the monster up to the guest bedroom.

"This'll be your room from now on.", said Sniff, "It's a little sparsely furnished right now, but we can work on it."

The monster hopped up on the bed and crawled under the blankets. "It's nice and warm and comfy!", he said, "Promise that you'll come and wake me in the morning so that we can have breakfast together?" Before Snork or Sniff could answer, the monster had fallen fast asleep.

Snork and Sniff quietly snuck back down to the parlor and collapsed down on the sofa. They were both overcome with all the emotions that all new parents experience; worry, fear, joy, hope, love, and dedication.

"Did we just do what I think we just did, Snork?", asked Sniff, "I don't know the first thing about being a father! I mean, I love The Muddler, but we were separated for so long, and I had come to think of Moomintroll's parents as mine, sort of. When he and The Fuzzy found me, I was already part of a family. What I'm trying to say is that The Muddler couldn't teach me anything about being a parent. I don't know where to start. How about you, Snork?"

"I was raised by nannies and tutors until I got into University when I was only twelve. My parents treated me like I was a rare potted plant that they could leave in someone else's care and show off to important guests when it suited them. I know even less than you do about parenting!", said The Snork.

"That's oddly comforting, somehow.", said Sniff, chuckling, "At last we found something that neither of us knows anything about!" He burst into a fit of hysterical laughter and Snork joined him. They laughed like this for about two minutes, and when they were finally able to stop, they felt that their inner worries over their new child were much more manageable.

"We're going to have to think of a good way to introduce him to everyone in Moominvalley.", said The Snork, "It would be impossible for us to keep him hidden for very long."

"Let's take things one step at a time.", said Sniff, "We'll get him used to living in our house, and us used to caring for him first. We'll hold a party for him on April fifteenth at the Community Center and invite all the children in Moominvalley! They'll help us introduce him to the all the adults! I know we can count on Moomin and Tayberry to lead the way!"

"Y-you're absolutely right, Sniff!", said Snork, "One step at a time....Yes, that's the best way to do this! By The Booble, I'm nervous! Setting a deadline, having a party to plan and look forward to....Yes, that's also good! I'm going to want to overdo things, so I need you to stop me when I get carried away! I promise to listen to you!"

"I'll get scared and overprotective and want to chicken out! You have to help me be brave!", confessed Sniff, "We have to tell our....son....everything that we're planning on doing so that we can help him be brave, too!"

They stared at each other, each realizing that they had finally found something, or rather someone, that they could both be passionate about and work on together without one of them leaving the other out. They went upstairs holding paws and checked on the monster in his bed. They both came to the same decision as they looked at their child. They carefully climbed into bed and under the covers with him, one on each side. The monster curled up between them and smiled in his sleep. Sniff reached slowly up to the nearby light switch and turned off the lights. They fell asleep together as a family for the first time.

To Be Continued

[whumpbby]

What if for Omega Gotham University AU Dick’s never met Jason face-to-face and is rejecting solely based on the fact that he’s flattered by the idea but he’s happily in a relationship. Is this a capes universe? Anyway maybe down the line he and Kori break up and when Jason’s over for dinner with Dami he finally meets the omega for the first time in person! Dami’s like you had your chance Richard! So begins the secret war for Jason’s hand. Jason just wants to graduate top of his class.

Now I'm thinking about what if in the University AU Jay starts to hang around the manor more and more since Damian is very adamant they start building up their bond NOW to make it stronger in the future and then, someday, Dixk and Koro break it off shortly before the wedding and Dick is heartbroken and starts spending more time at the manor again as well to take comfort from his pack and in the beginninf, he really isn't interested in Jay. (1/?)

His girlfriend just dumoed him and he is hesrtbroken. But as time passes (months? Years?), he starts seeing the world and other possibilities with open eyes again and suddenly he can see all the appeal Damian made sure to tell him off when he first introduced Jay. Damian, fully into puberty by now, is everything but thrilled, and Dick has the greates conflict bc on one hand that's his baby brother and hw's in love, not to mention all the social norms he would break by persuing Jay now (2/?)

that Dami's picked him, but Jay's just to cute and Dami was right,he would be a perfect mate. Dami more than agrees with that and gets a little territorial with Jay to 'strengthen his claim'. All the while Jay is just over there like.... what? (3/3)

_________XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX________

I don’t know if you’re the same Anon, anon, but I put these two together, because  this speaks to me. 

BUT

What IF – listen to me, what if the situation gets kind of ridiculous, because we’ll start with Jason at 17 and  Damian at 12, and Dick is 19-20, and he DOES marry Kori, and they’re happy, but… well, Kori isn’t an omega, she’s an alien and she loves Dick, but she knows there’s something he’s missing – that his pack is missing, so she starts to nudge him towards maybe listening to his baby brother and that omega he’s talking about – that would unify the family if they had an omega, yes? She’s not opposed to expanding her little family unit either;]

So Dick starts to pay attention and, damn, by the time Jay is 19 he grew and filled out, and he has this incredible nerdish charm, but he’s also training boxing in the meanwhile (therapist advised him to pick up sport and he picked up defensive one;]) so he’s also a bit stacked and growing taller with every month and Dick – who has a wife almost 6 inches taller than him – is already interested>>

Pity that Damian is so defensive all of a sudden, claiming the omega for himself only and Dick is like, Damin, he hasn’t agreed to anything yet, this is not middle ages you can’t claim someone who isn’t willing. But Damian is like, no, he will be mine, I just have to keep him available until I’m of age and able to properly court him! And he was doing well at it in the last couple years – at the Academy it’s known that if an alpha makes a move towards Todd, he will have a Wayne heir on their back so everyone stays away – and Jason, who never had a good track record with alphas or people in general, is kinda grateful for the overprotective (or so he thinks) baby alpha hanging around, because people leave him alone…

And in time Jason gets used to the kid and the fact that sometimes his butler/chauffeur will drive them somewhere to have ice cream, and while they’re at it help Jay with his English homework a bit (Alfred, as it happens, tends to agree with Damian, the pack would surely gain with such an omega and the boy deserves a better life than he’s got so far, so he’s willing to play into Damian’s little scheme) and every once in a while he’ll be invited to the Manor for Holidays

“It’s in poor taste to leave a friend of Master Damian to spend the Christmas alone, young sir. I will hear no excuses, there’s a place at the table set for you.”

Jason assume sit’s because Damian has so few friends that the family tries to keep the ones he does have happy – and he’s not entirely wrong;] – so he comes over and Alfred takes care of him. Bruce is also there, inviting and very smooth, and Jason is impressed and so, so does not believe that this is his life now. Then he meets the ever elusive Dick Grayson and is like, wow:O

So, while Dami and Dick hash it out between them for the right to have an omega, disaster strikes and the Drakes are killed and Bruce decides to take their son into his pack – the rich of Gotham will tear the kid apart – and it’s all noble and shit, but… Tim is an omega. And that changes things. Damian is like, oh no, how am I supposed to deal with two omegas in my pack?? Because he’s convinced that he’ll be the head after Bruce and will gear nothing else;]

And Timmy causes the pack dynamic to change around him – and Jason, who started to slowly cotton on to the fact that the Waynes may be trying to court him (only took him 3 years=_=) is struck with the thought that oh, now they won’t need him anymore. Thing about omegas entering new packs is that they undergo a settling period where they hash out the prime position in subtle ways – and Jason was on the way to settling into that position slowly, but Tim has now more claim as a legit adoptee, so they both feel unsure and wrong-footed, and the alphas around them are not helping (alphas don’t understand that process) and Jason decides – as the older one – to step away and lick his wounds alone, like he usually does, because Jason Todd can’t have nice things.

Except Tim won’t have that, because Tim is a baby (17) and doesn’t know what to do as an omega with a pack that acknowledges him Waynes are intimidating and scary and he wants to be good, but he was raised traditionally, where the omega has to be seen, but not heard, and he just… he doesn’t know… he just lost his patents, he can’t be an omega of a pack, he needs help, he always looked at Jason and admired him and he never wanted to unseat himTAT

Alfred sets out to fix this, but, surprisingly, it’s Bruce that goes to Jason and takes him out to a nice dinner and hashes out the situation – the truth of Damian’s odd behavior, he way their pack would very much like Jason to join them, because they’re all a little bit broken and Jason is an omega that just fits, and that, if Damian and Dick are a bit too much, then Bruce is perfectly willing to Mark Jay and make him a part of the pack. Not because they expect him to birth them pups until Tim comes of age, but because they like him.

And Jason is like, oh. He never, he never even considered having pups, he never though he’d have the security to have his own kids, never trusted into alphas giving him a choice in the matter, so he stayed away from them, but now it’s… well, it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? An idea of pups that will be cared for by a pack even when he decides to go back to school or work, that will be provided for and loved… that never even occurred to him. Even if he was the second of the pack, because Tim has better breeding, that would be more than he’d ever have otherwise…it’s tempting. He doesn’t know if he’d have kids, but the option being available is a novelty… And no one in the Wayne pack is hard on the eyes, to be honest…

…and in his deepest fantasies, in his heart of hearts, he used to dream of this, of being rescued from his crappy life by a handsome, wealthy alpha, of becoming someone’s mate – and life cured him from believing these fantasies, he set out to save himself and managed to do it, but… it’s still there, in the back of his head the little voice is weeping with joy, because this is one stupid wish he had as a kid coming true if he lets it.

And Bruce wasn’t raised in a barn, he’s aware this is a monumental decision, so he leaves Jason to think it through and makes it clear that when Jay makes his decision they will start the courting process – a proper one this time, to give him time to get used to the idea and change his mind if necessary. They won’t jump into it, he will have to accept everyone in the pack – and there’s more kids Bruce has that Jason met so far – and he doesn’t want to tear Jay away from studies, either, since it’s so important to him. Bruce is being perfectly transparent about it, like, I am perfectly ready to get the professors to home school you for the rest of the degree so we can focus on courting, but I know it’s important for you to make it through and show them that an omega can handle university just as well, and I respect that, courting will have to take a backseat. Even though every instinct in his head argues that if they don’t secure that sterling omega now they may lose him:O

He starts to understand Damian a bit>>

headcanon,

[justafewsimplewords]

Hello friends and folks!

I logged in today for the first time in three years as I forgot I had this account and wasn’t in a very good place mentally. My life looks very different now from when I first started it and I wanted to write a small life update.

I created this account while I was still in high school/near the beginning of university. I didn’t really know how to work tumblr per say. I used it to mostly like and reblog stuff. I was suffering badly with loneliness and depression. I felt stuck. I was facing a number of things personally and I wanted a place where I could look at fandom content and pretty pictures. 

Then I started taking English courses in university (English ended up becoming my minor) and I decided I wanted an outlet and a place to learn how to improve my writing. 

I followed a bunch of writing blogs and wanted to learn more about creative writing. I love reading stories and telling them. Writing is a facet of that and I wanted to learn how to improve my writing, even if I was going to be the only person reading the pieces I wrote.  

I reblogged tips and tricks, writing prompts, advise from other writers. I decided that I would work hard to work on a piece each week in my spare time and potentially share it here. I enjoyed being on tumblr. 

While this was all going on, I had a lot of stress in my personal life. In my fifth year of university (I ended up taking six years to complete my Bachelor’s degree with a double major) I was balancing 4 classes, working 4 part time jobs, and commuting to and from school 5 days a week on the city bus which was an hour and twenty minutes each way. I was not taking care of myself or my mental health and - as is typical when you’re stressed - I stopping doing the things that brought my joy. I stopped giving myself self care time and activities. I stopped this blog and writing among many other things. 

Then in March of 2018 I had a mental break down over an assignment. I had a panic attack that lasted 3 hours. I cried and was frozen in place the entire time. My mom (as I still live with my parents and did so through out school) came home on her lunch to find me curled into a ball sobbing on my bedroom floor. My family and friends didn’t realize the extent of my stress and how bad my mental health had gotten. I didn’t let anyone know. 

My mom ended up getting my off the floor and calmed my down. We ending up talking a lot and she pushed me to get help at school through the counselling we got for free as students (it was included in our tuition). My mom helped me drop the class that was causing me the bulk of my stress that term. It was 2 weeks before the end of my term. It was marked as a WD (for withdrew) and I ‘earned’ 30% in the course, which I later petitioned to have the 30% removed from my transcript and only marked as WD (and I won!)

I ended up needing to take a summer term to try and get all my courses completed in time and to graduate the next year. I knew that I needed to just finish the degree. If I had stopped school, I honestly don’t know if I would have finished it. And I only had 6-8 courses left. It was easier to take things slower and finish without stopping for a term. 

I started counselling through the university with a different therapist than the one I had been previously seeing and it was so helpful. Nothing against the previous one, but the new therapist and I got clicked better and I found it to be more helpful. They helped me find/create the tools I needed to pick myself back up and finish my degree. I also got closer with my friends and let my mom and sister in on what was going on, and I kept them updated. 

I graduated June 2019 with a Bachelor of Arts in History & Sexuality, Marriage, and Family Studies, and English Language and Literature minor with distinction. It took me 6 years, and it was worth it. I enjoyed (for the most part) every moment of being in university. I learned a lot about the subjects I studied and I learned even more about myself. I gained some amazing people as friends and have memories with them that I will always cherish. 

I’m 25 now. On top of graduating, and even more importantly, I learned to be a little kinder to myself and to recognize the signs of my mental health suffering.  2 years later and I still feel the after effects of the burn out and break down, but I am taking it day by day and rebuilding my strength. I make sure I do things weekly to take care of myself and am in the midst of introducing other measures to take care of my physical and spiritual health as well. 

I now have a permanent, full time job, with a company that has moved me to work from home during the COVID-19 pandemic and plans to keep us all at home until it is safe to return. I started there in September 2019 on a 8 month contact and was offered a full time permanent position in the department I was helping in Feb 2020 before the end of my contact in the other department. They have been wonderful with safety measures and I have been working from home since March 16 2020 with no current plans to return until it is safe to do so. I have benefits and RRSPs with them!

I have improved my credit score vastly in the last year, and put into works the process of buying my grandmothers house. I had the conversation with her, my aunts and uncles, and my mom and sister. Hopefully in the next year or two I will be able to do so. 

My life looks vastly different than it did it three years ago when I stopped posting. I’m glad for all of it, even if it was hard to handle. And I am glad to be back to myself in come capacity and still discovering the rest. 

I have slowly started reading and writing again too (school took away most of the enjoyment of reading and writing for me). I’ve outlined a number of stories, done some world building, and character development. I honestly don’t know if I would post any of the creative writing I have done on this blog - I can’t predict the future - but it feels good to be back at it. Writing again in some capacity even if no one is going to read it. 

I redid my blog’s theme and plan to login every once and a while, read about how to improve my writing, reblog a few things, and so on. 

Anyway, it’s good to be back. 

[sheeptiefstolemyheart]

Katabasis

A Mechanisms fanfiction based on the Ulysses Dies At Dawn album and the extra information on their website. A small crack idea about how the Persephone myth would turn out in that universe, and an excuse for writing morally grey characters. 

Warnings for: bad people doing fucked up things including mass murder, arson, and small mentions of incest and forced prostitution to fund a drug addiction. It’s the Mechanisms.

-

Persephone lives a life that many would call “confined to a golden cage”. That’s the ‘benefit’ of being an Olympian. An endless youth leads to an endless line of parties and dresses and friends and boring, boring days. It’s awful. The city far below churns and grinds and she lives and lives and her mother indulges her and her family continues to be awful. They fight and steal and kill and cling to civility by the skin of their teeth and it’s so tedious and awful. Until one day something - someone? a group of someones - arrives in the city. The first murmurings are of a few someones causing a mass bar brawl that turns into a massacre. The next is when Dionysis introduces his new therapist, a strange man who calls himself a Baron and wears clothes of a type Persephone swears are several hundred centuries old. The final is when someone takes control of the Acheron, calling themselves Hades. The “actual fucking Acheron who the fuck would do that who the fuck has that much power how the fuck did this happen” Zeus rants and raves in a family meeting, throwing his pad against the wall. Persephone ducks her head and looks at her fingers and thinks about her plants at home until Zeus is saying her name and everything else is quiet.

Her head shoots up. Everyone is looking at her. Her mother looks terrified and worried and Persephone can’t help stuttering in the face of her uncle’s cold gaze. “Y-Yes Uncle? I’m sorry…” She doesn’t want to say ‘I wasn’t listening to you’ but it gets through and across the table Hera snorts. There’s a brief flash of anger across Zeus’ face but he tempers it, surprisingly. “What would you say about getting married?” Persephone blinks dumbly and thinks about what they were just talking about. Slowly she connects the dots. “To Hades?” Zeus nods, like nodding to a child, and Persephone just shrugs. She doesn’t know where it comes from. Marriage was not what she expected this morning but it sounds exciting. Marriage to a new God sounds exciting. More exciting than her golden cage and the same day in and out. She nods properly and there is a look of honest surprise on Zeus’ face. He claps his hands together and grins at her wide as a shark. “So, that’s settled. My sweet niece will be sent to Hades as a wife and hopefully we will be in their good books and we can continue on without too much trouble.” The rest of the Olympians are chattering and whispering and giving her approving glances or surprised ones and Hera nods demurely to her. Persephone feels like an adult all of a sudden.

Zeus turns to leave and Demeter springs up to follow him, giving Persephone an incredulous look. “You can’t do this to her! She’s a child! You can’t just marry-” Zeus’ hand collides with her mother’s cheek and the room goes silent. Demeter doesn’t say a word, only cradles her cheek as Zeus moves past her and takes Persephone’s hands in his. His power is absolute. “I’m very proud of you Persephone my dear. You’re becoming a proper Olympian.” She nods shakily and tries not to hyperventilate. This is the closest he’s been to her in years. He’s terrifying. He moves away and Hera cups her face and smiles and then follows her husband. Other Olympians nod to her in passing, touch her shoulders or arms, murmur praise and reassurances, and then she’s alone with her mother who is looking at her with cold fury. Demeter leaves without a word and Persephone feels strangely proud. She’s been 19 for centuries. She has to grow up sometime.

As much as it’s her wedding, it doesn’t much concern her. Persephone stays in her room and looks at wedding gowns and talks about flowers and thinks about where she’s going to live, deep underground, and packs her plants up and tries to imagine what her new spouse will be like. Her mother and her uncle and her family arrange everything else. It turns out that there won’t be a wedding. Instead, she will simply go to live with Hades and then everything will be fine. Persephone suspects that none of them have actually confirmed the details with Hades themselves. So when the day comes and everything Persephone owns is packed up and put into a little shuttle it’s fair to say she’s more than a little nervous. Her mother hugs her tight and cries into her hair until she squirms away to save the nice makeup and hair job Hera had done for her, a nice treat considering hera hates her and her mother for the obvious reason. Zeus gives her a tight hug and as she is enveloped he whispers in her ear. “Don’t fuck this up. Don’t be stupid like your mother.” She looks him in the eye as she pulls away. Her mother thinks her a silly child. She is far more. “I’ll make you proud uncle.” She thinks she sees approval as he guides her to the shuttle but then he closes the door and the shuttle starts to move and she clutches her little purse with white knuckles. She can’t fuck this up.

The shuttle takes her down through the upper city first, then the decent roads of the lower city, then the ground opens up and she’s in the undercity. Further and further down she goes, staring out at areas she’s never seen. She’d never truly understood the true scale of the city. Soon they’re truly underground, nothing but LEDs to light their way, and she feels herself wilting. What has she done? After hours of travel they pull up in front of a club, red and black and sleek. She is helped out by the driver and greeted by a curious bouncer who scans her wrist code and frowns. They make a call then signal for her to wait and disappear into the doors, music trickling out from the open door. A high, mournful voice singing about the city. Persephone clutches her bag and waits, chills creeping up her spine. What time is it here? Even with the fluorescents it’s so dark and so cold. Eventually the bouncer returns and guides her in without another word, something like a smile on their face. They weave her through the bar through crowds of people, past a band, up a set of winding stairs at the back, and behind a red door. They go down a long red corridor and knock on a final red door at the end. The cheers and raucous shouting from behind it stop and a smoky, smooth voice calls out “Enter.” Persephone can barely catch her breath before the bouncer opens the door and propels her in. She stumbles as she gets her bearings as the door shuts silently behind her.

It’s a cards room. A huge table in the middle, a strange assortment of people clustered around it. There’s a woman with what look like wings, talking to a woman with a book whilst a nymph with a moustache listens curiously. Two men with goggles are trying to outdrink a man with a wild look in his lightning scarred eyes. Persephone thinks she sees the Baron there, talking to a lady in a military coat and a ponytail who looks bored shitless by him. At the head of the table sits Hades. She’s seen that face on video calls with her uncle. They stare at her with a curious look, raising one eyebrow as they shuffle a pack of cards. “Yes? What do you want?” For a second, Persephone can’t speak. She remembers the wrath of Zeus. She straightens up and looks Hades dead in the eyes. “I’m Persephone?” She’s not sure if it’s a question but Hades still looks confused. The Baron makes a happy noise and gets up to greet her, effusing a near insincere joy at seeing her. “Persephone! Little darling, how are you? What brings you down here, so far from your mother’s cage?” He takes her hands and kisses it and she curtseys the way she’s been taught, and behind them she hears a few fed up groans.

The Baron moves back to his seat, smug. He avoids the slap around the head that the woman with the ponytail moves to give him, and winks at Persephone. She knows that she blushes. From the head of the table Hades sighs, deep and long and tired. “Yes? You’re an Olympian, right? Zeus’…” “Niece.” The Baron fills in. Hades barely acknowledges him. “Why has Zeus sent his lovely niece all the way down here to see me?” After Persephone gets over the descriptor of “lovely”, she frowns. Oh dear. It hadn’t been confirmed. “I’m… Your wife?”

Her words hang in the air like bricks. She seems to have almost stunned them all. The man with the scarred eyes starts to laugh like a maniac and Hade’s arms shoots out. They smash the man’s face into the table and he lifts a finger in a swear, still cackling. The rest of the table are watching as well, a few of the women with their heads in their hands, the Baron staring at her curiously. Hades slowly opens their mouth and speaks. “My wife? What the…” Realisation seems to hit them. “You cannot be serious. I thought that was a- Fuck.” Perspehone nods shyly, trying to ignore how intently some of them are staring at her now. Hades sighs, finally removing their hand from the scarred man’s neck.

Persephone suddenly feels very, very small as the various people around the table assess her. Hades lifts their hands up in a placating manner. “I didn’t think he was serious.” The women with the book chips in, sarcasm colouring her voice. “So you just accidentally married a girl Ashes?” Hades glares at her and Persephone feels a chill up her spine. Ashes. Hades real name is Ashes. Hades scowls and looks at Persephone, at her pink dress and green hairpieces in this red underworld, and they point at the door. “Go home. I did not want this. Give my regards to your uncle and go.” They sit back down and focus on the cards, the others going back to their drinks and talks. Persephone cannot. She will not go home a failure. She will not suffer her uncle’s wrath. She walks over to the table and sits down in a chair. Slowly, the amused gazes of those around the table turn to her. “No.” Hades raises their head. Sighs. Places the cards deliberately down. “I’m sorry?” “No. I’m not leaving. I’m not going back to Zeus a failure.”

The Baron nods in understanding. “She’s right Ashes. That man will kill her for failing. He kills his own children like they are little bugs. Almost admirable but still very messy.” Around the table eyebrows are raised but Hades continues to stare at Persephone. Out of the corner of her eye, the mustachioed nymph offers her a drink. It gets a scolding from Hades but she still takes it. She sculls it down, makes a face at the burn, and slams the glass back on the table to approval from the group. The scarred man nods. “You could do worse.” Hades slaps him round the head. “You won’t go? I will make you leave.” “I’m not going. You know what my uncle will do to me, to my mother. I am not going to leave. You’re married now, hi. Congratulations.” Hades sucks a breath in. “This is not… This is not how marriage works. You know that right?”

“I’m not a child.” The laughter from around the table is sarcastic, and Persephone bristles. “I’m not!” “You’re how old? 19?” The winged woman asks, hiding a snort in her drink. “I’m 233, actually.” That tempers them a little but one of the men with the goggles still laughs, counting drunkenly on his fingers. “Not too bad. Been up in your golden cage though, all your life. What makes you think you could cut it down here?” The woman with the ponytail asks, something like recognition in her eyes. Persephone knows she has an answer to that. “Because I’m an Olympian. My family is a family of near-immortal fucked up shits who murder people indiscriminately. This entire city is just a playground for murderers and monsters and I’ve lived amongst them for 233 years ” She has everyone’s attention, especially Hades. Slowly they put down their cards and look at her, and she knows they’re seeing her in a new light. She was right. She knows exactly who these people are. They’re the chaos makers. Looking for trouble, looking to destroy. She wants that.

She looks Hades right in their eyes. “I don’t want to live up there anymore. I’ll do whatever you want but I want to live here. Not up there.” There’s a few giggles from the group but Hades keeps their eyes on her. They lay down their cards in a pattern she’s never seen before, and the scarred man drunkenly points at one. Hades doesn’t look away as they turn it over. Queen of Hearts. Hades frowns. “Okay. You,” they point to Persephone. “Leave the room. I need to talk with my crew.” The scarred man lifts his head, and as Persephone leaves the room she hears him say “Your crew? My crew you mean I’m the cap-” “Shut the fuck up Jonny.”

Persephone finds herself with her ear pressed against the door, trying to catch anything being said inside. The conversation swells in a raucous manner towards the end she catches snippets.

“She’s a child!” “233…” “Compared to any of us, that’s a child!” “She’s a posh little idiot.” “Like you when we met you Nastya?” “I will kill you Tim.” “She’s useful. Clever. Got that look about her. Not one of us, but she’s more than them.” “Something fun to play with Ashes? We don’t usually get to play with the mortals like this.” “She’s here now. Might as well see how useful she can be.”

Persephone has enough sense to dart backwards at the finality in Hades voice. The door swings open and the nymph is standing there, smiling very wide. “Please come in!” She follows it in, ready to fight to the death if Hades somehow decides to send her back by force. They are sitting at the head, shuffling cards as the other people - crew members - start to pack up. One by one they file out past Persephone, some ignoring her, some smiling, some giving her scrutinising looks. The scarred man, Jonny, slaps Ashes on the back and as he goes his eyes trace all over Persephone. It’s not perverted, more assessing, but she meets his eyes. In his eyes is the same maddened bloodlust as Zeus and it takes everything for Persephone not to flinch and look away. A smile quirks his lips and he closes the door with a slam as he leaves, leaving Persephone alone with her new partner.

A chair slides out next to Hades and Persephone takes the hint. Closer and closer she comes until she can see the now interested light in Hades eyes. She sits primly and tries not to feel terrified. This is the person who took control of the Acheron. Their friends have killed thousands of people, caused so much damage, hurt so many people. Something in her heart beats a little faster. She thinks it’s excitement. Hades sighs, and runs their hands through their hair, and looks at her expectantly. “I’m not happy about this, you know? But your uncle is right, this will help me work with him. I am not your… dream husband. I am not someone you want to be married to. I will not be your husband in anything more than name.” Something like relief loosens in Persephone’s chest. She’d never seen the point of uncle Dionysis’ drunken orgies, all that sex and those bodies. It was never for her. She shrugs, and they nod.

“You know I’m not a good person, right? Those people are my crew, my family. We kill people. We cause chaos. It’s what we were made for and I won’t be here long, just passing through, having fun. Understand the cards you’re being dealt?” Persephone looks them in the eye. “The city I live in runs on the tortured half-living brains of the dead. My uncle has killed every single one of his bastard commoner children so far save one, and that one he arranged the death of his entire family to keep him in debt. I had 17 different nannies because my father kept sleeping with them and his wife kept killing them. Oh yeah, my father is my uncle and everyone knows it but we don’t talk about it. I’m 233 years old because my family sucks the life force from children and uses it to live longer and longer. The person that discovered it, they set him up to kill his own father and marry his own mother. They had children together. Then they set it up for everyone to find out. I haven’t once gone against anything they have done. I’m not a good person either.” It’s the longest bad thing about her family she’s ever said. Hades raises an eyebrow and for the first time since they met, Persephone sees a smirk on their face. “Well. Let’s take you home then.”

Their mouth twists at the word home, but they do offer their arm to Persephone as they lead her out of the room and to the upper levels of the club. The apartment is nice. There’s two layers to it: the bottom layer which is Hades business area and leads into Hades Acheron offices, and the upper part of it where they live. It’s a sleek fancy apartment, with huge bedrooms and offices and when the club is in full swing Persephone can hear the music through the floors and the vents. Hades likes the club, and Persephone likes it as well. It’s a fun place to hang out. Her bedroom is nice as well, pull of plants that she keeps in perfect condition. The business area is more… Business. It’s where people come to ask Hades for favours, for forgiveness, for aid. She likes to sit on the sidelines sometimes, watch her spouse work, watch how they weave their plans and schemes, how they make people indebted to them. Gods, the city is a desperate heaving mess. One day she sits in on a meeting Hades is having with a person: tall, dark, broken. Like so many of them. She doesn’t pay much attention to their begging, but Hades takes an interest in them. As they leave they give her a look that pierces to her soul. That night she finds Hades and she lies down beside them in their bed, just to be close to someone.

Time carries steadily on. Her mother calls her. Zeus checks in occasionally. Persephone feels no need to return to the surface, to mingle with her family. She has far more interesting friends now. Hades friends, who call them Ashes, are a wild bunch. They all call themselves The Mechanisms, and Persephone suspects that’s not the name of their group. That’s what they are.  Murders and thieves, vagabonds and outlaws. Machines and humans. Not even human anymore. Something new. Something awful. Something hideous. They are incredible to know. She slowly finds her way into the outskirts of their little group, as Ashes wife. They mostly allow it because it gives them a chance to mock Ashes mercilessly. Jonny d’Ville, first mate (captain) and psychopath who thinks nothing of killing 36 men in a bar brawl. He takes her on one, and when they stumble out to the street soaked in other people’s blood Persephone thinks she understands why the city is the way it is. Killing is so exhilarating. Drumbot Brian is a fun night out. Give him a plan and a justification for it and he takes her through three city districts in a hijacked shuttle. She sticks her head from the roof window and screams sheer bloody delight. Gunpowder Tim shows her the beauty of weapons, from the simple pistol all the way up to his favourites. She takes out one of her uncle’s smaller clubs with five barrels of explosives and a lighter Ashes lent her, and they watch as it burns with ash on their faces. The smell of gunpowder in Persephone’s clothes for days after.

Raphaella is aloof but highly interested in Persephone’s mother’s business: poisons natural and unnatural. Persephone tells her everything she’s learnt at her mother’s side and lets Raphaella inject her with one of the scientists own concoctions. In the minutes before Ashes rescues her she writhes on the floor in blissful agony and she swears she sees and feels the entire universe through every nerve of her body that is on fire. Marius tends to her afterwards. He tells her everything going up in her family home, and she tells him everything about her life. He doesn’t even blink when she tells him about Zeus. He writes it all down and promises it’s for a good cause. She catches his talking to Ashes with the notebook out and she only grins. Nastya introduces her to the Aurora, their ship, her lover. She shows her around and Persephone looks at the way Nastya looks at the Aurora and feels overwhelmed. What a big thing. Nastya also teaches her how to sabotage any machinery she comes into contact with and how to hotwire shuttles. They go for drives around the city together. Ivy is always happy to learn. She picks Persephone’s brain when she hasn’t plugged herself straight into the Acheron like an addict with a needle. She hooks Persephone up once but it’s too much. Persephone wonders how empty Ivy’s mind has to be to keep all that information and not go crazy. The Toy Soldier, still a nymph, still mustachioed, shows her how to shoot like a soldier. It corrects her posture with an accent she’s never heard before, and offers her tea after every shot she gets right.

One game night Jonny makes a joke about her and Ashes and Persephone doesn’t hesitate when she pulls the nice new sidearm ashes helped her buy. She shoots Jonny through the throat and stands over him with the barrel at his head when he regenerates and looks up at her with wild delighted eyes. The Mechanisms applaud and cheer and toast her, and Persephone has never felt so proud of herself. When he pulls himself up Jonny grins wide and pours her an extra shot. She feels like she belongs. Then she catches Ashes looking at her with a frown on their face and she remembers that no, she doesn’t. She’s a fun past time, an entertainment. They’ll move on soon. Whenever they’ve caused the havoc they want they’ll up and go and Persephone won’t go with them. It’s not her ship to travel on. She’s not a Mechanism. She’s only married to one. Ashes still takes care of her. They teach her everything they know about business and gambling and people and tell her that they know she will make the right decisions in the future. Tells her that something big is coming but she can be ready.

A few months later it’s her cousin Heracles begging her partner for aid. Cousin, brother, whatever. He doesn’t notice her, thankfully. He would probably try and kill her, just to get revenge on their father. Again, he wants his freedom. Again, her spouse offers a different plan. Someone out there has a job, and Ashes is slowly funnelling people their way. She sips her drink and wonders. Finally it is Orpheus who comes to Ashes. Persphone loves Orpheus, loves his music and his voice and she’d been so happy to see him happy with his fiancee and not trapped in Dionysus club sleeping with rich women for lotus petals. It’s so sad to see him like this: chewed up and spat out by the city. She knows what he asks for is not a good idea. To take someone out of the Acheron means they don’t come back right but the poor thing is so desperate she pleads with Ashes from across the bar. They send him away, to that Job they won’t talk about, and she smiles sweetly at him.

A few weeks later Persephone wakes in the morning and the whole crew are in her kitchen talking. When she comes out they look at her with a wild hunger mirrored in every eye and Persephone knows something has happened. Something is going to happen. Something big. “You’re leaving.” She says to Ashes and Ashes nods. “What are you leaving behind?” Ashes tells her. Persephone doesn’t faint, although she does have to find a seat. She looks into the drink the Toy Soldier slides to her and knows that this is how it was always going to end. A city like this will only ever cannibalise itself. It just needs a little help. She finishes her drink in one and goes to pack up. She only takes what she can carry, what she can fit into the little shuttle that Nastya has adapted specially for her. Ashes hands her a chip and when she scans it she realises that it has every credit that has ever passed through the club. She gives them a smile and flips it just the way they taught her.

The Mechanisms leave one by one. Soon she’s alone with ashes and she can’t stop the way she feels scared. Like a child again. Ashes puts their hands on her shoulders and from their waistcoat they pull out a lighter. “Burn the motherfuckers.” She nods and puts it in her pocket and then they leave and she’s alone in the apartment. They didn’t need to be so nice to her. Maybe they’ll come back some time, see how she’s climbed over the bodies they’ve left behind. She sits and waits and waits and waits and then the power goes out. It’s happened. Somewhere deep below, the Mechanisms have set fire to the Acheron. The city is burning from the inside. She grins. The screaming starts not soon afterwards, and she makes her way to the shuttle. She flies her way up through the city, retraces the steps she took so long ago. She bursts into the surface where she can already see riots forming. She finds her way up to her uncle’s penthouse and when she lands on the private shuttlepad she sees her family clustered around her uncle, terror on all of their faces, begging for information and reassurances. Everything is falling apart. How good that she’s learnt how to keep stable footing.

All of them turn to watch her shuttle land, the only shuttle still flying. She opens the door and steps out, walks with all the confidence of someone who learnt how to fly from immortals. They watch her with open mouths as she pushes open the doors and walks through the parting crowd. Zeus hasn’t seen her yet and is ignoring Hera’s tugging on his suit, shouting at Dionysus about something or other, panic on his face. Persephone feels a thrill in her stomach. Her uncle had always prided himself on being hard to kill, but hard isn’t impossible. He forgot that sometimes those closest to you are the most dangerous. Persephone pulls out her gun and walks towards destiny.

[jessefandomunited]

i spy (Nathan x reader) part 9

Heart racing I sped through the hallways calling for Nathan, it didn’t take me long to find him, because he seemed to be listening at the end of the hall. He grabbed my arm as I sped by and looked at me confused, “ What was that?” I was in such a happy mood I didn’t notice the hurt in his eyes at first . “ Nathan… what..whats wrong,” I said , my joy starting to drain out of me. “ That whole phone call, about you and us, what’s going on,” He asked . A smile began to creep across my face , “ do you really want to know?” “ Yes , that is why I asked,” He huffed, pouting a bit. I chuckled and began dragging him back to his hideout. He went along reluctantly and I even noticed a slight smirk appear on his lips. We settled ourselves back down in the places we were sitting only moments ago, however this time, I felt free, unfiltered. “ Everything I am about to tell you is highly classified, if you speak  word of this to anyone outside of our group you could be killed, you get me,” I said urgently. Nathan chuckled, “ okay sure.”  “ This isn’t a joke,” I insisted and his face dropped a bit, “ I wont, I give you my word love.” I nodded curtly and sighed, “ gosh….where do I begin. Well…I guess I’ll start at the beginning, but I’ll try to make it quick because I really need some sleep before I get my to work.” I was speaking faster and my hands were starting to shake , like I was about to do something terrible. I forced the feeling back and pressed on, “ I don’t remember my parents much, I was so young when I was taken to the orphanage. I can’t remember anything about them. I don’t remember much about my time in the orphanage either, my therapist said that it’s probably due to trauma, which is definitely possible, but I haven't pushed the possibility that they did something to my head. Anyways, when I was about ten, the orphanage worker excitedly tells me I’m being adopted by this lovely family. I didn’t buy that for a second. The couple looked like a cookie cutter image of how a mom and dad should look, something was up, but I just let it happen, I was ten and wanted to get out of there. After that moment, my training began, I was to be a secret agent.” I paused for a moment and looked up briefly at Nathan, I was wondering if he actually believed me. He just looked stunned, not smirking like I thought he’d be. Afraid that he would burst out laughing , I continued, “ Basically I was a bit of an experiment to them. They injected me with some serums making me stronger, quicker, and smarter. They kept it up for the first couple years, I got these injections once a month, till they saw no more improvement, also Hal insisted they stop. After the injections I began to get sick and I couldn’t focus properly, it wasn’t doing any more good. I was so lucky Hal was there because if he wasn’t I think they would have kept going till I died. Anyways , aside from that they taught me a bunch of stuff id need to know working in the field, mathematics, physics, chemistry, and so on.  They also made me do physical training every day, they worked me until I literally could not move. Hal was the only friend I had, then, they introduced me to Jack.” My throat instantly closed up as I said his name. I don’t think I had said his name out loud since my last therapy session , over two weeks ago. I took a few deep breaths, pressing the palms of my hands over my eyes, a trick I used to keep the tears from falling. “ Crystal…you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to. I’m an obnoxious twat, “ He chuckled weakly , “ I don’t need to know.” I shook my head slowly , placing my hands in my lap, “ you are an obnoxious twat , but you were also the main person that actively reached out to me. You consistently wanted to know about me and honestly, I’d love nothing more than to tell you everything, were a lot alike believe it or not. I want to tell you everything I can. “ I looked down and tried to compose myself. As I did Nathan gently grabbed my hand and whispered, “ when you’re ready love.” I smiled , I couldn’t believe this was the same guy that was trying to get into my pants every minuet. I gave his hand a light squeeze and said a gentle thank you before continuing, “ I was thirteen when they introduced me to jack.” They were trying the same serum thing on him and decided to pair us up for missions and see how it do.  Oh we hated each other at first, were were both sarcastic ass holes and we tried to push each others buttons every chance we got. However, after a few life threatening situations, we began to get closer. This was our whole world, we knew nothing different. We were outcasted in the agency. The other agents saw us as freaks and the higher ups just treated us like lab rats, aside from Hal of course.We were okay with it, we were all the company we needed. Then a month ago, everything changed.” I stumbled over the retelling of the fire, me wishing I could follow my partner in to death, Hal rescuing me, my recovery, then I just stopped. I don’t even remember what I was saying but something just snapped inside of me and I just stopped talking. I blinked a few times, breaking myself out of the daze I had fallen into . I looked up at Nathan , slightly scared at what his expression might be. As my eyes met his I saw surprise and sadness , he opened his mouth and stuttered, “ I don’t know what to say.” I chuckled weakly, “ you don’t need to, you listened to me, that’s more than I could have ever asked for.” I noticed a bit of pain in his eyes, I could tell that he was struggling with the idea that there was nothing more he could do. I slowly dropped his hand and stood up so I could stretch, I felt exhausted , all that emotional baggage had drained the life out of me. Nathan got up as well and looked at me for a minuet, then shook his head and pulled me into a tight hug. I just stood there in shock, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had given me a hug, it was warmer than I expected. Timidly , I brought my arms around him, resting my head on his chest listening to his rapid heart beat. “ I swear, “ Nathan rasped, a slight hitch in his voice as if he was trying not to cry, “ I am going to do everything in my power to help you.” I was so touched by his words, so shocked, that I didn’t know what to do. I just pulled back gently so I could look into his eyes, there was so much pain. I smiled softly and placed a hand on his cheek, “ I appreciate it love but unfortunately , there isn’t much you can do, I have to do this on my own. Now I need to get a bit of sleep we can talk more tomorrow alright?” He nodded and said, “ here.” He pulled back the covers to his bed . I shrugged and kicked off my shoes before climbing in, I was too exhausted to protest. After I got in, Nathan followed. “ Woh buddy ,” I mumbled as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “ Im…..im not going to do anything, i…I just want to feel like I’m protecting you in some way even if I cant,” he stammered. My heart twisted I just couldn’t say no, “ alright love…goodnight.” “ Good night,” He whispered. I closed my eyes feeling comforted by the sound of Nathans gently breathing and the beating of his heart, soon enough I fell into a deep sleep.

[uclavapae]

Sage LaCroix | Teaching Artist of March 2019

Hometown: Berkeley, California

Major: Dance B.A. Psychology B.A. (Minors in VAPAE and Applied Developmental Psychology)

Q: How did you discover your interest in the arts and how did you know that it was something that you wanted to pursue professionally, as an artist or as a teaching artist?

A:  I began creative movement classes at age 3 and figured out relatively quickly that dance was something I wanted to keep in my life forever. Throughout elementary, middle, and high school, I trained in many styles of dance, constantly inspired by the teachers and mentors I had along the way. As I entered college, I knew that I wanted to continue my studies in dance but that I also wanted to be that mentor for other young students. As a kid, I was fortunate enough to attend schools with great arts programs but as I was introduced to LAUSD, I realized how dire the need is for arts in public schools. It was then that I realized how much I wanted to bring the arts to students who wouldn’t otherwise get the opportunity.

Q: Describe what the student artists in your VAPAE afterschool arts or arts enrichment program are working on and the process they’re using.

A: I just finished teaching at the Classroom in Residence at the Hammer Museum. There, I taught two different groups of fifth graders and we focused on themes that were similar to those represented in the museum galleries.  These themes included self-portraits, everyday objects being repurposed, and community. With both groups I used different ways of generating choreographing that were student centered. Then I facilitated putting it all together so they had a full dance by the end of the week. We also touched on dance concepts such as musicality and rhythm, shape and tableau, and appropriate audience and stage conduct.

Q: Why is an enrichment opportunity like this important for those participating? What do they gain?

A: An opportunity like this one was visibly impactful for the students. They came into the experience both eager and slightly anxious about trying something that was new for them. However by engaging with their community and with their classmates in new ways, they were able to flex the creativity parts of their brain and open up to each other and to the staff in a more vulnerable way. Throughout the week, I saw students become more comfortable with their body and taking up space in the class. They became more eager to share when I asked questions and contribute movements to the group choreography. Each student was also able to be accountable and show up for their classmates in a community sense.

Q: Did you have an opportunity like this when you were a younger artist? If yes, how did it help shape your love of art? If no, in what ways could a program like this have helped you?

A: I had lots of opportunities for the arts when I was younger that allowed me to see the connection between human emotion and art. This helped me fall in love with the arts because I saw how it was a way I could express everything I felt in a safe way. At the same time, I never experienced a program like CRH that connected visual and performing arts. I think a program like this would have given someone like me who’s more of a performer, a better sense of how I can use my creativity in the visual arts world as well.

Q: What do you personally gain as a teaching artist, arts facilitator?

A:  As a teaching artist, I’m constantly inspired by the students’ willingness to go out of their comfort zones in order to express ideas and contribute to the group artmaking process. This leap of faith makes me want to take those same leaps in my own work and in life in general. I also get the opportunity to see the students collaborate in a way that is so supportive and and kind, and they remind me to bring those ideals to every group situation I’m in. By being a teaching  artist, I also get the constant joy of seeing my students discover parts of themselves that they had all along but maybe didn’t know how to express.

Q: What are the benefits to you as a student/graduate in the UCLA VAPAE program? Was this program a good choice for you? If so, why?

A: The VAPAE program was one of the reasons I chose to come to UCLA. It’s unlike anything I could find at any other school and participating in it has been one of the best decisions I’ve made at UCLA. Through VAPAE I’ve had hands on teaching experience in over 5 different locations and been able to take classes from countless renowned teaching artists. This experience gives me great benefit not only because it has strengthened my leaderships skills, and knowledge of my own arts practice, but because I would feel completely prepared to go into a teaching job after graduating from UCLA. I have confidence in myself but also in the support system that VAPAE has built and knowing that they would be there to help and support me as I transition out of undergraduate study and into a career.

Q: Are there any anecdotes from your time as a VAPAE Teaching Artist at an Arts Enrichment or Afterschool Arts Programs that stand out to you? Perhaps you had a breakthrough with a student or saw some particularly noticeable growth in that student through this program, collaboration etc. Maybe something surprised you or made you think about art or teaching in a new way.

A: At the Classroom in Residence at the Hammer, I had one student who was resistant to participating throughout the entire week, despite encouragement from myself and the other staff members. He decided to be an audience member for the final performance, instead of dancing on stage with the rest of the class. I was worried that this student wasn’t getting anything out of the class and wasn’t growing in the same way as the other students. However after the performance, I asked the students to reflect on the week and he shared that he was proud of his fellow students for having the courage to perform on stage and that it looked like a lot of fun. When him and I had a one-on-one conversation later, I asked if next time he might want to participate, he said yes. Though it was small, I felt him slowly open up to the possibility of being vulnerable and stepping out of his comfort zone in the future.

Q: What are your short-term and long‐term career goals?

A: At some point in my life I would love to perform in a modern dance company because performing and traveling are two things that make me the happiest. I would also love to become a Dance/Movement Therapist or somehow incorporate social emotional aspects into being a teaching artist. I’m also very interested in student affairs and working with undergraduate arts students to help them achieve their long-term goals. A long- term goal for myself would be to increase the use of dance and movement as a form of therapy and healing among a multitude of groups.

[les-eaux-d-eunoe-blog]

From Atheist to Pantheist to Catholic - My Conversion Story

These are only life events, and cover the Faith part of the Faith + Reason equation. I’ll need to dedicate another post to the philosophical and theological path that occurred in tandem with these events.

I hope you enjoy. :) It’s been a wild ride.

---

-  I am very young and at swimming lessons for the first time. I must be 3 or 4. I fall off the platforms designed to keep our heads above water. No one notices at first. But I am not afraid, just drifting towards a light before I am suddenly yanked out of the water and coughing profusely.

- I attend Sunday school at the insistence of my Grandma. My dad is annoyed. I come home and ask my papa about God. My dad tells me that God is made up. Later in life he tells me he rejected religion when I was born, because he couldn’t understand how a pure and beautiful child could be stained by sin. He devoted his life to science after that. 

This made perfect sense to me, and I carried this attitude with me throughout my life. I became a very critical observer, especially in regards to organized religion.

- My Catholic grandparents bring us to Christmas mass (and continue to do so every year.) My mom is preoccupied with keeping my sister and I quiet. My young brother causes scandal by slipping out of the pew and taking communion unbaptized. He can’t be more than 6, and just wants to participate. (He is now a Christian, for what it’s worth) 

- I backpack in the Wyoming wilderness with my family around age 10. I feel a sense of peace on the mountain rimmed shore of Tomahawk lake. I feel a pattern in the grandeur, a true and humbling sense of awe. I feel something Godlike.  I tell my pop, and he just smiles at me and ruffles my hair.

- I experience manipulation and physical trauma at the hands of peers I place trust in as a child and teen, which scar me deeply.

- I have several night terrors / hypnagogia as a teen where I experience ghosts, and once, a demon. I’m deeply disturbed by these experiences and don’t know how to integrate them into my beliefs as an atheist. 

- My mom tries to help my bad teen acne and irregular cycles by putting me on birth control.

- I’m an average student, and a decent athlete. School is just okay. I don’t excel at much and prefer listening to music and painting in my room. I become interested in boys.

- I graduate high school, start college, and then promptly drop out. My parents kick me out of the house. I spend two years living with a boyfriend and experimenting with weed and hallucinogens.

- My dad asks me to visit my devoutly Catholic great-grandmother Olive once a month in a nursing home at the height of my rebellion. She sees nothing but good in me, despite me feeling utterly fallen. She loves me immensely, and keeps poems I wrote as a young girl in with her collection of favorite prayers.

- My boyfriend becomes abusive and the economy collapses. I lose my job, and eventually break up with him. I ask my parents for forgiveness and move back home. I return to college.

- I discover pantheism, and feel like I’ve finally found a name for the Godlike awe I’ve been chasing since I was a girl on the lakeshore.

- Eventually, my great-grandma Olive succumbs to dementia. I receive a small inheritance from her, which I put towards the cost of completing a French study abroad at a university in Normandy.

- In Normandy, I feel close to the spirit of my great-grandma Olive. Our program includes visits to churches, monasteries, and reliquaries with weekly if not daily frequency. Everything is ancient. I feel sad and disconnected from my American peers, estranged from Norman locals by the language barrier, but form a tight bond with my host family. I spend a lot of time wandering the narrow streets and drinking wine and cidre in cafés trying to make sense of the world. I buy ranunculus and place them on my night stand.  I find solace in the Gothic architecture, and in the tiny orchard towns of the Old Country.

- The last week of my time in France, we visit Paris. My program director arranges for us to attend mass at Notre-Dame de Paris. There are incense and Gregorian chants. Part of the mass is in Latin, the rest is in French. I sketch the vaulted ceilings. I shake hands with a kind-eyed stranger behind me and wish him peace in English, knowing he may not understand my words but feels my intention. After mass, I walk between the arches, and I cry.

- After returning home, I spend a quick summer in my hometown, and pack to leave for Chicago to pursue a bacheor’s degree. I love Chicago and make friends. My first Easter there, I try to find a Catholic church and talk a new boyfriend into coming with me. I dress up and wear a new silk hat. He hates the service and asks if we can leave. I say no and am disappointed in him, despite neither of us being Catholic. I feel, for some reason, I should be there. Maybe because it makes me feel connected to my great-grandmother. We leave and eat strawberries in Millennium park.

- I move out of the dorms and into other neighborhoods. Subsequent years I begin to practice Lent, because I like the principle of it. It seems like a really positive challenge to me. I don’t make the mistake of dragging others with me to Easter mass anymore.

- I graduate college and struggle to find meaningful employment. My body is in tremendous amounts of pain. The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with me though. I quit hormonal birth control to see if it helps. My body reels and tries to stabilize without the consistent dose of hormones I’ve been taking daily for the last decade. I fall into an inconsolable and deep depression for the next two years 

- An acquaintance asks me to join a band. As music has been the silver thread pulling me through the darkness, I agree wholeheartedly.

I learn to play bass, and duet vocals with him as he plays lush, reverby guitar and sings in a low timbre. Over the course of the year, we fall in love. He’s tall, serious, dark, with electric blue-green eyes. He’s fiercely intelligent. His smile makes my heart leap from my chest. His name is M.

- One weekend M. and I are spending the morning together, and he casually asks if I’d like to go to Easter mass with him the next day. I’m overcome with surprised joy and happily agree. I dress up once again, and I smile at him with this unexplained feeling of pride as he leaves my side to go take the Eucharist.

- I continue to struggle with my mental health. M. really loves me and encourages me to find a therapist. I do. We find out I have PMDD, and I begin, slowly, working on improving my health.

- My grandpapa is suddenly diagnosed with stomach cancer and is placed in hospice. I fly out immediately to be with him and my family. Within the week, he’s gone. My family grieves in the small hospice chapel. I find myself praying for the peace of his soul.

During this trip, my grandmother is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, which breaks my heart. I feel like, in a way, I’ve lost both of my grandparents twenty years too early. I return home.

- My relationship progresses with M. He is a cradle Catholic, but isn’t especially devout. It’s a somber year. The next Easter rolls around, and I once again practice lent. I give up alcohol. Despite still not feeling especially Catholic myself, I begin reading the Bible, starting with the gospels “as a cultural experience.” I think it’s some kind of effort to connect with my roots. I read them on the train as I ride to the record store that I work at.

- One morning on the train, I read the parable of the 10 Virgins. I’ve never heard it before, and I don’t quite understand it. I re-read it over and over again. When I get to work, one of my co-workers is playing Johnny Cash.

- The song playing is "When the Man Comes Around." I am shocked to hear the parable of the 10 virgins in the song.  And I start to wonder if what I’m reading maybe is actually trying to speak to me. So I don’t stop.

- Intrigued by my experience, I decide to fast deeply during lent. Out of curiosity, one evening in my room I try to talk to Jesus for the first time and introduce myself. Nothing spectacular happens, but the room seems to smell like sawdust and sweet wood, and I feel peaceful.

- That Easter, M.’s parents are visiting and invite us to the candlelit vigil service. It’s in a church that’s hundreds of years old called St. Michael’s. The choir is perfect and well practiced, and they sing a Capella. I watch the baptisms of the excited canidates and catechumens, dressed in their special outfits, with happy spouses looking on. I feel this sudden yearning to be one of them. I’m delirious from fasting and feel as if I’m floating. I silently cry again, and think about my grandma, great grandma, and grandpapa. We go out to dinner together and the food tastes incredible after the fast.

- In the weeks following, I keep reading the bible. It becomes my secret.

- M. and I decide to move to Arizona together, to find a better life. We are living paycheck to paycheck, and feel like we might find more gainful employment there.  When we arrive, I spend most mornings standing on the edge of desert landscape, trying to achieve deep meditation to help with my mental health. I memorize the “Our Father” prayer, and say it at the beginning of each session.

- M. and I talk about maybe having children someday. He says that he thinks he might want his kids to go to Catholic school, like he did.

- At this point, I’m already deeply fascinated with Catholicism. I read about saints as I commute around town. I read about the formation of the bible and the desert fathers, I decide that I might want to maybe be Catholic. Then I find out what’s involved. The lengthy process of RCIA keeps me away, and I worry about what my fallen-away father would think. So I keep reading in secret instead.

- I want to donate to a food drive, so M. helps me find a local church to take food to for thanksgiving. They have a prayer shawl ministry. I really want to learn how to knit, so I join, despite not being Catholic or belonging to the parish.

- Months later, I become fascinated with the rosary. I decide to pray a “virtual rosary.” During that experience, I see the Virgin Mary in my mind’s eye. I see her as the female form, then as my own body. I recognize that I’m holding a lot of insecurity and tension in my body as sexual shame. Suddenly, I see my female form as completely beautiful and natural. I feel freedom and peace from that shame I’ve been carrying since I was a child. I don’t know much about the Virgin Mary, but I know that I need to learn more.

- That very night, my boyfriend and I go to see The Smashing Pumpkins. The whole set is filled with imagery referring to the Virgin Mary. I find myself saying the Hail Mary prayer in my head, over and over again. It glitters in my mind like it’s made of gold.

- I read more and more about Our Lady. And I find a small coin necklace with her image. It glitters just like the prayer. I make a pact with myself that if I decide to buy the necklace, that I’ll join RCIA.

- A few days later, I decide to buy the necklace.

- That Sunday, I feel compelled to go to mass alone, even though I’ve never done that before. I walk there. At the end of the service, the church announces its new RCIA director, who I meet after the mass. And I begin the inquiry process within weeks.

[originalhybridloverfics]

Why Can't We Be Like That - Chapter Ten - Olicity Fic

Felicity clasped her hands in her lap before rubbing nervously at her palm, glancing about the room at the neat office, the walls that framed degrees and awards and then back toward where Dr. Danvers sat across from her patiently. She looked away quickly out the window that over looked the city skyline, the sky a bright blue barely any clouds in the sky in the sunny afternoon sky. “Felicity.” Dr. Danvers said slowly, drawing her gaze back to her. “This is our second session and you’ve yet to say one word to me other than to introduce yourself or a polite greeting. I can’t help if you won’t even say anything.” Felicity was silent as she contemplated her words. She knew the whole point of coming here was to talk but it was a lot more harder than she thought. Just sitting across from the therapist made her feel like she was on display and she hadn’t even said anything yet. If she felt this uncomfortable, like an itch beneath her skin when they haven’t even touched on why she was here. How would she feel when she actually started talking about everything? Was this going to be something she could handle? She wasn’t sure as it were she could feel her heart pound against her ribs, her breaths quickening. “Felicity?” She could hear Dr. Danvers but it was like it was coming through a long tunnel, it wasn’t until she felt a hand on her arm that she looked up to see the doctor had crouched in front of her and was looking at her in concern. “Breathe with me Felicity. In and out.” Felicity acknowledge that Dr. Danvers was trying to help her and tried to match her breathing with the other woman’s, breathing deeply in and out. It took a few minutes of following Dr. Danvers breathing motions but her breaths started to even out, her heartbeat slowing back down to a more normal rate as she slowly calmed down, regaining her loss of composure. “Better?” Dr. Danvers questioned in a calm soothing tone. “Yes. Thank you.” Felicity nodded as Dr. Danvers rose, moving back to her chair across from Felicity. “I’m sorry.” Dr. Danvers shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize.” She settled her book on her lap but made no move to open it. “Can I ask how long you’ve been having panic attacks?” “A few years but I haven’t had one in a really long time though.” Felicity admitted. “And can you tell me what you think might have triggered this one?” “I’m having a hard time opening up. It makes me feel too vulnerable.” “That’s okay. We can take this as slow as you need to Felicity. There’s no pressure here.” Dr. Danvers assured. “Why don’t we start with something simple. What brought you to me?” Felicity took a deep breath exhaling slowly. She could do this. “A lot of reasons. I went through a loss, two losses years ago, and I never really talked about it and I guess I’ve been bottling all I’ve been feeling inside.” “And what are you feeling?” “I can only pick one emotion?” She asked wryly before continuing. “Angry, bitter, hurt, betrayed, I could keep on going but it may take up the rest of your time.” “And what emotion do you feel the strongest?” Felicity didn’t even have to think about it. “Anger.” “And what are you angry about?” “Life and..my ex..everyone trying tell me how I should feel, what I should do..at myself.” She was angry at everything, really, beginning with the unfairness that her son and her father were gone, yet she had survived and had to continue living her life without them. You could call it survivors guilt or whatever the hell you wanted to call it but she felt like the fact that she had survived the accident when her son and her father didn’t was wrong. Almost like it was a betrayal to them when she should have died with them. “And why are you angry at yourself?” “I was in an accident a few years back..I was 7 months pregnant at the time, my father was driving the car.” She paused, her mind starting to go back to that god awful day. “I survived but I lost my child and my father.” “And you’re angry that you survived when they didn’t?” “I don’t understand why I was the only one to survive.” Felicity looked down, her eyes burning, throat tightening with emotion. “If I survived why couldn’t they?” It was something she asked herself every time she woke up from a nightmare of that day. “Sometimes terrible things happen to people who don’t deserve it and there’s nothing we can do about it. You have to know that the accident wasn’t your fault.” “I know that.” Felicity mumbled except maybe there could have been something, maybe if she went about her day different that day, her father would still be alive and she would be raising her son, watching him grow like she dreamed about. “But knowing that and believing that are two completely different things.” Said Dr. Danvers knowingly and Felicity found herself nodding along because while she knew deep down it wasn’t really her fault but what she felt, knew and believed were very different things. There were a lot of days where she couldn’t help but blame herself particularly on the anniversary of their death, or her dad’s birthday or the day she was supposed to have given birth to her son. “I get the sense that you feel you shouldn’t be here because their not.” Dr. Danvers eyed her closely. “Felicity, have you ever consider killing yourself?” “No.” Felicity answered immediately, firmly. “I would never kill myself.” She could never do something like that. She felt that would be an even bigger betrayal to her father and son. She had been given the chance to continue living when they couldn’t. “Have you ever thought of hurting yourself?” “No.” Dr. Danvers nodded. “I hope you understand I had to ask. It seems you have what I would call survivor’s guilt.” “Clearly.” Felicity said dryly, just now noticing that Dr. Danvers was taking notes. Dr. Danvers glanced at the time. “Our time is up but I would like to see you in here twice a week if possible.” “You think I’m that much of a head case?” Felicity couldn’t help how pessimistic she sounded. “I don’t like to refer to my patients as head cases but no I don’t think that. I think you’re in a lot of pain and that you blame yourself for something completely out of your control and your angry for the loved ones that were ripped from you but I don’t think your a head case.” Dr. Danvers gave a polite smile as she rose from her seat. “I think the fact that you’re here on your own speaks volumes for itself. The fact that you know you need to talk with someone and want to try and get help really says more than you know.” Felicity rose from her seat nodding. Honestly she thought Dr. Danvers was just being kind but she also knew it wasn’t her job to sugarcoat things. “I think I can make two visits a week work with my schedule.” “Good. Do you think you can do Tuesdays and Thursday around one o’clock.” “Yes.” Felicity was sure Robert wouldn’t mind if she asked for a little personal time. Plus he never pried if she didn’t want to discuss it. It was one of the things she had come to really appreciate about Mr. Queen. “Okay, good. I’ll see you, Thursday. We’ll talk more than. More about your friends and family, and you mentioned an ex. I assume he was your son’s father. And we’ll get into the anger you feel for them and why.” “Oh joy, that sounds lovely.” Felicity grumbled before hoisting her bag on her shoulder. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Danvers.” “Your welcome.” She held her hand out. “I really do believe you seeking out help is a good sign on where your at. It was good meeting you, Felicity.” “You too, Dr. Danvers.” Felicity returned, shaking the woman’s hand briefly. “I’ll see you, Thursday.” ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ Felicity wasn’t sure what she expected from therapy. She knew talking would be hard but in a way it was a relief to admit to her anger but it was also really emotionally draining even more so than she expected. And if this first session was this emotionally draining she honestly wasn’t looking forward to more sessions. But she wouldn’t back out of it now. She would follow through. It had to be better talking to Dr. Danvers than anyone else, someone who didn’t know her and was completely bias and a professional. After leaving the doctor’s office Felicity returned to work, she had a few meetings and she needed to work out a few kinks in her code for the new Security Cyber Wall she wanted to implement. When she finally got a free moment she headed up to the top floor. She saw Robert’s assistant seated at her desk. “Hello, Amanda, how are you?” She asked, stopping by the other woman’s desk. “I’m good, Felicity.” She smiled politely. “And you?” “I won’t complain. “ She forced a cool smile when she saw Oliver though the glass walls of his father’s office. “Is Mr. Queen busy. I was hoping to speak with him a moment.” “He’s with his son.” She answered. “They were going over some proposals. Or Mr. Queen was and he was explaining it to his son.” Felicity nodded. She did not feel like seeing Oliver. “I’ll just catch him another time.” She turned to leave. “Felicity, wait.” Amanda protested. “I’m sure he can spare a moment to speak with you. He always does.” And before Felicity could tell her it was fine she already had her phone to her ear and was on the line with Robert. “Mr. Queen, Ms. Smoak was hoping you had a moment.” Felicity turned back around and waited patiently. She didn’t want to see Oliver but nothing could be done about it right now. “Yes, she’s right here.” Amanda paused. “Right away, Mr. Queen.” Amanda set the phone back down and looked up at Felicity with a smile. “You can head on in.” “Okay, thank you, Amanda.” She stood a little taller as she headed to Mr. Queen’s office ignoring Oliver’s gaze when he turned and looked at her, pushing her way into Robert’s office. “Felicity, what can I do for you?” Robert asked, closing a folder he had opened. “I wanted speak with you.” She glanced furtively at Oliver before focusing back on him. “On a private matter. It’ll only take a few minutes” Robert nodded. “Oliver could you give us a moment.” “If it’s about the company I shouldn’t have to leave. I should hear it too. I am shadowing you.” Oliver couldn’t think of what they could possibly have to talk about that he couldn’t hear. Felicity frowned. “Did you not hear me when I said it was private. It has nothing to do with the company or you for that matter.” “Then I don’t see why you need to speak with my father and not me.” Oliver insisted. “What is it you need to talk about?” “Do you even hear yourself?” Felicity asked in disbelief. “You’re acting like a child who needs to know everything around him. I need to talk about me and that has nothing to do with you.” Oliver was inclined to disagree he opened his mouth to argue further when he found himself being cut off by his father. “Oliver, I said give us a minute.” Robert repeated, settling his son with a look that left no room for argument. “If Felicity said it doesn’t concern you. Then it doesn’t concern you. Now if you would.” He waved a hand toward the door. Oliver stared at the both of them astounded. “Unbelievable.” He scoffed, turning around and striding out of his father’s office. Robert waited till his office door closed behind Oliver before focusing back on Felicity. “I apologize for Oliver’s behavior.” “Don’t.” Said Felicity. “He’s a grown man, he can apologize for his own behavior.” Though she seriously doubted he would. “But I didn’t come here to talk about Oliver.” Robert nodded. He didn’t argue his son’s behalf. There was some things were becoming painstakingly clear to him that Oliver still needed to do. Act more mature, grow up and learning from his choices and mistakes were several of the things he needed to do. Especially in regards to his relationship with Felicity or past relationship as it were. “What did you need then?” “I’m going to be needing some free time during Tuesdays and Thursdays, at least an hour around one to two in the afternoon for the foreseeable weeks.” “Can I ask why?” “Scheduled appointments with a doctor.” Felicity admitted rather reluctantly. Concerned filtered across Robert’s face and he rose from his chair. He wasn’t one to pry in Felicity’s personal business but if it was serious he would want to know. “Is everything alright? Are you sick?” “It’s nothing like that.” Felicity didn’t want him thinking there was something wrong with her. She didn’t want to tell anyone she was seeking professional help but she didn’t want Robert worrying unnecessarily about her. “I started seeing a therapist but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it so I would really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone else.” “Of course.” Said Robert in understanding. “That’s is your business to tell not mine. And of course you can take all the free time you need.” “Thank you.” Felicity nodded, turning to leave. “I’m gonna get back to work now.” “Felicity.” She had turned to leave but turned back expectantly. “Hmm.” “I’m sorry if Oliver’s presence has brought up your struggles but I’m glad you’re talking to someone.” Robert’s brow crinkled. “If you ever need anything I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me. Even if its time away. I know none of this is easy for you. Even if it’s just time. I know you and Oliver or no longer together and its completely understandable and I want what’s best for you. So for once just put your own feelings first.” Felicity nodded and offered a smile. Feeling like Robert unlike so many of her friends, her family wasn’t telling her she needed to consider Oliver’s side of things. He was encouraging her to do what was best for her even if it wasn’t what everybody else wanted. “Thank you, Robert. I’ll keep that in mind.” She pushed back out of the office, Oliver who was leaning against the glass wall straightened up. “Felicity, what was that about?” “Nothing that concerns you.” She brushed past him to the elevators but he followed her. “Are you being like this because of our fight?” Oliver questioned. Felicity ignored him, pressing the button for the elevator. “You’re really just going to ignore me?” Oliver wondered, watching her closely, the way her back was rigid, the stiff way she held herself, like she was guarding herself and the impassive expression she wore. Felicity was doing her best to ignore him. He was the last person she wanted to deal with. When the elevator doors opened she stepped into the elevator car, turning around and pressing the button. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this but I don’t have to tell you anything, especially when it’s about me. Not you. Not everything is about you, Oliver.” Oliver struggled to respond unsure how to but it didn’t matter as the elevator doors closed. He stared at the closed doors before making a frustrated sound and stalked back to his father’s office. He pushed his way into his father’s office. “What were you two talking about?” “That is not your concern.” Hearing his father tell him the same thing Felicity had said had his ire flaring. “But it’s yours.” Robert sighed. “Oliver I will not betray Felicity’s trust simply because you feel the need to know everything going on with her. It was a personal matter and that is all I will say on it.” “If it was a personal matter than why did she come to you?” Oliver challenged. “Because she needed some extra time from work and I’m her boss.” “Why won’t you tell me what you talked about. I have a right to know.” Robert leveled his son with a look. “No you don’t. You gave up the right to know what is going on with Felicity a long time ago. You need to accept that.” He opened his folder, and waved his son over. “Now where were we? Right, we were looking over the Menkenzie proposal compared to the Davis proposal.” “What’s the difference both their Proposals are similar to one another?” Oliver frowned in confusion, letting the matter drop since it was clear his father wasn’t going to tell him anything. “The devil is always in the details Oliver. No matter how small or varying you just need to know what to look for.” “Right.” Said Oliver though to be honest he could care less. If he was honest his reasons for coming back to the company were purely selfish. He had just wanted every opportunity to encounter Felicity, hoping that their close proximity would open the doors to rekindling their past relationship but it was becoming increasing apparent that their painful history was not in the past as one would think. Being around one another seemed to be opening old wounds and pouring salt in them, making the pain worse and it seemed nothing he did help the wounds heal. But he desperately wanted to and maybe then he and Felicity would take a chance to try again. Or at least open the door to the possibility for something more between them. Something better.

[beatingbrca]

A year later

It’s been a year since radiation ended and my last blog... and it’s been a long year. I’d heard that immediate post-cancer life can be even harder than treatment, but I didn't understand what that meant until I lived it. Physically I am doing well. After two surgeries at MGH and two visits to tattoo studio, I now have breasts made of my own tissue. These new breasts are nothing like my old; they’re smaller, have many scars and are far from perfect, but I am grateful to feel like a woman again after having gone ten months without any. It took a long time for the fatigue to improve but slowly it did. My fuzzy brain is still there so I’ve found ways to compensate (task lists, Siri reminders, coffee). Hormone therapy has brought me hot flashes (which I can deal with), weight gain (which I’m working on), and mood swings (which I can’t). 

This winter I cried a lot. I couldn't keep perspective, any stress or worry sending me over the edge. I had trouble getting out of bed, didn’t exercise much... basically not using positive coping strategies to deal with how I felt. At my lowest point, I finally recognized that I needed help figuring out who I am now and have taken steps to regain control of my life. I tried to do this on my own but just couldn't pull it together. Help has come in many forms-- hugs from my family, support from my friends, validation from my therapist allowing me to forgive myself, UU services reminding me of what’s most important, visits to my acupuncturist focusing on just myself, the ocean (now only ten minutes away from home) giving me the space to be mindful. 

I realize now that during treatment it was easy for me to focus solely on getting well. I wasn't working, I attended wellness classes and had acupuncture twice a week, I was getting daily texts from supportive family and friends, meals were delivered, I had help with housework, I was reading and writing a lot. Once you’re no longer sick, many of these go away as they should. But that left me trying to keep up my focus and momentum and goals while at the same time working a full-time job, selling a house, moving to a new home, supporting a troubled teenager and a husband temporarily out of work, managing a busy household. Life marched on and took my newly-discovered self with it. Add tamoxifen and some stressful life events, and it’s not surprising I ended up where I did. 

I’m not there yet but am getting closer. I am resolved to introduce more things into my daily life which bring me joy, happiness, and contentment. If I focus on me, my hope is that the rest will fall in place.