#so now i have to set up a new doc & transfer my records & hope the new one will fill my scrips bc she cant see me irl till february

[direful]

i'm so fucking tired

[panharmonium]

you can be my ride or die: a staggeringly long essay about a deceptively short appearance

(aka, pan’s personal depository of notes about prince william of ealdor.)

now that my fic is long since done and posted, i can finally transfer this monster piece of meta out of my google docs and onto my blog, where it can serve as an unasked-for, absurdly detailed, beginning-to-end analysis of my obscure fave.

(whose line ‘yeah, and i’m prince william, of ealdor’ is still the funniest damn shit i’ve ever heard and also the most shocking burn arthur has ever received; i hope he thinks of it sometimes and remembers that humility is a virtue)

(the BRISTLING DISRESPECT!  the ZERO FUCKS GIVEN!  i love him!  please can someone else talk to arthur like this!  he needs it!)

disclaimer before we begin: i wrote this over a year ago, as a character check for myself during the very early stages of working on my fic.  i kept messily adding bits to it over the course of a couple weeks as i explored what i knew about this character and who i understood him to be, but at the time, i didn’t intend on posting it; it was just prep work for my own story-making.  it’s still essentially just a record of my train of thought as i pieced this character together - i’ve cleaned it up a bit now and added some recent links to make it more coherent, but it was never meant to be a posted essay, just a collection of notes for myself.  

be forewarned, it is more comprehensive than the things i’ve written about this character since, and it goes on for years.  if you are not interested in many, many pages of super heavy in-depth musings about a character who appeared in one episode, now is the time to scroll on by.  i promise i won’t mind in the slightest; i wrote this for my own purposes and don’t really expect people to read it - i’m posting it just to have it archived with the rest of my merlin stuff.

if you are interested in that sort of thing, however - hit the jump, and off we go!

i really love the episode where we meet will, though i’ve started to love it for new reasons since the first time i watched it.

the first time i watched season 1, 'the moment of truth’ was my favorite S1 episode overall, because it was the first time the Fab Four went off on an adventure together, and that was very exciting; and i also loved it because all the character stuff in that episode was so good; and i also loved it because look, all of us are suckers for that classic seven samurai plot, you know - i loved it in TCW, i loved it in the mandalorian, i loved it in merlin.  not gonna get bored of ‘simple farmers defend their homes with pitchforks’ anytime soon.  it is overall just a solid, self-contained plot with clear emotional arcs, and it sticks its landing well.  it’s a simple, strong story.

nowadays, though, i also love it because of will.

i. will whomst?

prince william of ealdor, that’s who!

will straddles a kind of weird place in canon, because he feels like a minor character to the audience but is very much not a minor character for merlin, who has known will much longer than the brief hour we get to spend with him and who has spent his entire life with will as his sole friend.

but, because will only appears once - let’s start with a round-up.  what do we actually know about him?

he’s a peasant farmer from ealdor, like merlin

his father was killed fighting for king cenred (as a foot soldier - these people are not wealthy enough or high-status enough to afford or be accepted into the knighthood)

his mother is either dead or absent

he’s painfully class conscious and doesn’t trust the nobility

he’s a “troublemaker” (the interpretation of which is...well, it’s left to the viewer’s discretion.  fandom seems to jump to ‘fun mischief and pranks,’ though i personally don’t get that vibe from this episode.  “troublemaker” in will’s case seems to mean more “doesn’t know how to keep his head down/can’t go along to get along to save his life.”  it means when he sees something that he thinks is Wrong, he absolutely will not shut up about it even when all his neighbors are sick of him and want him to just let it go.  it means he can’t stop rocking the boat even when rocking the boat makes everybody want to strangle him.)

he supplements his agricultural pursuits with carpentry.  you can see in his house big piles of hewn timber along one wall, as well as a grindstone and a shaving horse, and when he comes out of his house on two separate occasions he’s holding woodworking tools (mallet, chisel, etc)

he knows about merlin’s magic - for how long this has been the case, we’re not told.  it doesn’t feel like a new thing to me, but ultimately that’s guesswork.

he appears to have just one friend

that one friend is merlin

will loves merlin enough to die lying for him

merlin left will behind.

ii. it wasn’t what i wanted

so let’s talk about that.

merlin is asked “why did you leave?” twice in this episode, first by arthur and then by will.  he gives completely contradictory answers to the two of them, and it’s worth remembering, before examining both responses, that one answer is inherently more honest than the other, because merlin is only able to tell the whole truth to one of these people.

so when merlin talks to arthur, it goes like this:

“why did you leave?”

“things just...changed.”

“how?”

*silence*

“come on, stop pretending to be interesting and tell me.”

“i just didn’t fit in anymore.  i wanted to find somewhere I did.”

arthur has to drag this answer out of merlin, and it’s not because merlin doesn’t feel like sharing (i mean, come on, we know merlin; merlin wants to be in everybody’s business and he feeds off human connection like a starving man; he’d be thrilled that arthur was interested in his life) - the problem isn’t that he’s shy; it’s that he’s not exactly telling the truth and he’s trying to figure out how to do it in the least deceptive way possible.

i just didn’t fit in anymore.  i wanted to find somewhere i did.

that’s nice.  

it’s also a lie.  

it’s not a total lie, of course - there’s an element of it that becomes true, after merlin gets to camelot and realizes that working for arthur is “not totally horrible all the time” - that he sort of likes the excitement, and the newness, and being somewhere where nobody knows him and nobody will judge him - but that’s the reason he stays in camelot, not the reason he leaves ealdor.

by contrast, when will asks the question, merlin gives a completely different answer:

“why did you leave?”

“it wasn’t what I wanted.  mother was worried.  when she found out you knew - she was so angry.”

it wasn’t what I wanted.  

can we digest that for a moment?

merlin didn’t want to leave home.  

not that he isn’t enjoying himself in camelot now, of course - which he conveniently doesn’t mention in this conversation, because will is upset with him and merlin feels guilty that he’s been off enjoying his new life while will has been struggling at home alone - but at the point of departure, merlin didn’t want to go.  

his answer to arthur about finding a place where he belonged is certain-point-of-view bunk.  he didn’t just up and decide that he wanted to run off and find a place where he fit in better.  he didn’t leave because he wanted to escape a place he didn’t belong.  he didn’t set off in search of adventure and a new life.  it’s true that he didn’t feel like he fit in in ealdor, but that’s not what sent him packing.  he left because his mother found out that will knew about his magic, and she panicked and sent him away.  

iii. why did you leave

most fannish things i’ve encountered tend to interpret merlin’s departure in a much more generous light than i do, with merlin explaining to will that he’s leaving and will being unhappy about it but eventually understanding and kind of like...giving his blessing before merlin goes.  this is fine, of course, but it did surprise me, when i started dipping my toes into fandom, because i never interpreted events in this episode like that, and i don’t think it’s even a plausible read, not from the conversations we’re actually given.  the antipathy that accompanies merlin’s return doesn’t make sense under those circumstances, and moreover, from the way things actually unfold in this episode, we’re told, in order, the following three things:

1) the fact that will asks “why did you leave” tells us that he and merlin did not discuss it prior to the point of departure.  there’s no other reason for will to ask this question.  everything about will’s tone and body language in this scene indicates that he’s been stewing over this for a long time, that he doesn’t understand, that this is something profoundly difficult for him to address.  and while it might be nicer to think that merlin sat down and discussed things with will before leaving for camelot, that’s not the inference we’re being asked to make here.  

2) there is absolutely no way they wouldn’t have discussed it, if will had known that merlin was going to leave.  like - if your only friend in the world told you they were moving to another country tomorrow, there’s no way “why?” wouldn’t be the first question you asked.  there’s no way you wouldn’t have that discussion, at the most basic level, before separating.  it just wouldn’t happen.

3) so, given that information, the unfortunate, inescapable conclusion is this: will didn’t know merlin was going to leave.  merlin left without telling him.

everyone is free to continue to headcanon this in their own ways, of course.  but this is what we’re actually being told.

iv. we don’t want your kind round here

the fact that merlin vanishes without so much as a word to his best friend goes a long way towards explaining why merlin is so uncomfortable when he first sees will in the street.  

when they first encounter each other, merlin looks so apprehensive and wary, and the writers are playing it like ‘uh-oh, someone saw him use magic and now he’s nervous about it!!!’  but two seconds later, you realize that this can’t possibly be what’s causing merlin’s concern, because it’s made immediately clear that will already knows about merlin’s magic and isn’t going to say anything about it.  

merlin isn’t afraid of being outed, in this scene.  but he might, however, be afraid of the reception he’s going to get, given what we just discussed.

merlin just up and disappeared from home, and not so much as a letter since - we know will’s had a secondhand update, probably from hunith (“how’ve you been?!  i hear you’re skivvying for some prince”) but he very clearly hasn’t had any direct contact with merlin since before merlin left.  

merlin knows this was a big fuck-up.  he feels guilty.

(and to be clear - i think there is a lot to be said about just how merlin’s departure unfolded, and what stopped him from getting in touch.  it’s a complicated enough topic for its own piece, and it’s not quite within the scope of this essay, but suffice it to say for now that i don’t believe it stemmed from deliberate thoughtlessness or callousness on merlin’s part; it’s...deeper and more complicated than that.  honestly, i think merlin looks back on this as like...the first major mistake he ever made in his life, his...original sin, sort of.  and i don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself for it, either, but again, that’s a story for another day.)  the point here is that merlin didn’t necessarily want to cause harm, but he knew that’s what he was doing regardless - he knew that leaving without a word was the wrong thing to do.  and in this moment he feels rightfully guilty about all of it, and he’s afraid that his friend won’t welcome him home.

merlin’s moment of uncertainty is real, when will pretends to greet him with hostility.  merlin is afraid that will is angry with him for leaving him behind.

(and let’s not kid ourselves, will definitely is)

it’s a festering thing that keeps boiling to the surface as we progress through the episode.  it shows in the way will finally asks why did you leave, avoiding merlin’s eyes, the question laden with vulnerability.  it’s in the exchange “are you going to abandon them?”/“what, like you did?”  there’s real pain there, and confusion, lots of hurt feelings.

but.

despite all of that, will doesn’t freeze merlin out, when merlin comes riding back into town.  merlin is rightfully afraid that will might not want to see him, afraid that “we don’t want your kind round here” might be less of a joke than it ought to be.  and while all of the troubles that merlin is worried about are absolutely real and poised to cause friction later, the truth is that at that exact moment, when merlin comes walking up the road - none of it matters.  will has been nursing a collection of hurt feelings for months now, yeah, but in the immediate moment, when it comes down to it - he puts them aside.

they both do.  nerves, guilty thoughts, bruised feelings - they temporarily abandon all of that in favor of a momentary joy.  you can see how excited they are when they reunite.  how they start smiling at the same time.  how they laugh their way into that hug.  they’re so happy to see each other.

people get pretty worked up about ***That Time Arthur Finally Hugged Merlin!!!***, but i don’t know.  i think it matters to remember that merlin had people who knew how to hold him long before arthur was even a flicker of a shadow in merlin’s mind.

v. why are you being like this

so they reunite!

and then they fight. D:

but what really matters is how they fight, because even when they’re having an argument, they never let things escalate quite to the level of interpersonal nastiness, certainly never to the level of cruelty for cruelty’s sake - just a few hard truths and a pile of hurt feelings:

“i trust arthur with my life.”

“is that so?  so he knows your secret, then?”

...

“face it, merlin, you’re living a lie, just like you were here.  you’re arthur’s servant, nothing more.  otherwise you’d tell him the truth.”

the delivery in this scene is essential for understanding how these two interact with each other.  it’s so telling.  merlin and will are having an argument, and will is angry about everything we’ve already discussed, and on top of that, some prince is trying to round up a bunch of will’s neighbors for a fight that’s going to get a lot of people killed, and will sounds so sharp when he’s talking, up to and including the challenging “is that so?”  

but then when he sees that he’s touched a nerve there and merlin knows he’s right, his voice drops those edges and goes gentler, regretful, like - he and merlin aren’t all hunky-dory right now, but he’s not out to rub merlin’s face in it, either.  he’s not trying to “get back” at merlin for leaving him.  he’s not like...happy that merlin’s situation is shitty.  

vi.  if i broke it (would you quit?)

we mostly only see these two in a tense season.  they’re arguing with each other for almost the entire episode, and yet even in this at-odds state, there are little things that remind us of what they’re usually like - that they don’t want to be arguing, that this isn’t a natural at-rest state for them, that this isn’t what they’re used to.  they butt heads, but they keep swinging around back to each other, and trying again, and trying again, and trying again.  they never write each other off.  they keep trying to make it work.  

examples: merlin asking “why are you being like this?,” the implication being that will isn’t usually like this, that this isn’t how they usually act around each other.  the two of them together in the background of arthur’s pitiful training session, coming right off the tail-end of another argument and busying themselves with their own work, but still reflexively hanging in each other’s orbit.  merlin, even in the middle of a strained conversation, helping clean up the mess that the bandits made of will’s house, without asking or being asked, like it’s just the automatic, reflexive, natural thing to do.  merlin using will’s proper name when discussing him with other people, but always the diminutive when they’re talking to each other.  merlin following will every time will walks away; will doing the same when merlin’s the one who’s leaving.  that moment up in the hedgerow, with will’s embittered “you know why,” which sets them to arguing again, except instead of it pushing them apart, it pulls them closer together - will climbs right up into the hedge where merlin is standing so they can sit next to each other and talk.

like.  he’s angry!  but the instinct isn’t to storm away, it’s to get closer.

i love that so much.  i love how they’re starting to have another argument and merlin stands there and says “why are you being like this,” to which will, already upset, responds “you know why,” BUT -

but

will stalks up into that hedge and plops himself down right next to merlin, and merlin, without a moment’s hesitation, sits down beside him.

i love that.  they’re angry with each other, but their first instinct is still to close the distance.

i wonder, sometimes, how much of that is a function of them only having each other.  when you’re on the outs with someone, usually you can lean on your other friends, but what can they do?  it’s different when the person you usually seek out for comfort is the same person who’s pissing you off.  you don’t have anyone else to run to, so you can’t ever really storm off.  you have to learn how to hash things out.  you have to learn how to make it work.  you have to learn not to give up on each other.  

vii. she was so angry

the implied backstory for how merlin actually ended up in camelot is so painfully fascinating and, quite frankly, wrenching to think about, given how this episode eventually ends.

when will asks merlin why he left, merlin tells him, “it wasn’t what i wanted.  my mother was worried.  when she found out you knew - she was so angry.”  this is telling us that merlin’s departure for camelot was directly preceded by his mother discovering that will knew about merlin’s magic.  that is what ultimately prompted her to send merlin off to camelot.  of course there would have been other contributing factors - it’s evident that merlin’s situation in ealdor has always been precarious - but her immediate reason for sending him away was the fact that she found out that will knew about merlin’s magic, and she was angry and afraid to learn that merlin had been lying to her about something that put him at risk.

“i wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“i know you wouldn’t.”

but merlin’s mother didn’t believe that, or she wouldn’t listen to him when he tried to tell her, and she shipped him off to camelot anyway, despite the fact that camelot is arguably more dangerous for merlin than ealdor ever was.

the web of how this played out is such a tangled mess.  is it my fault, thinks will, before the episode even starts, desperately trying to figure out why merlin would abandon him like that.  it’s my fault, thinks merlin, at the end, knowing that if he had used his magic sooner, or come back alone, events would have unfolded differently.  it’s my fault, thinks hunith, realizing that the particular fear upon which she based merlin’s entire departure was utterly unfounded.

merlin doesn’t blame her for it, even though he has reason enough to be angry about it, by the end of this episode.  he understands that she was just trying to protect him.  but the truth of the matter is that she did make a mistake.  she was afraid for him, and she saw danger everywhere, and so she made a misjudgment.  

it’s the miniest of mini-arcs, but it’s there.  at the end of this episode, right after will drops the Big Damn Lie, merlin looks desperately around for the only other person in the room who understands, and the camera rests on hunith’s face for one lingering moment, as she realizes what’s happening.  when she’s exiting the house, there’s a shot where she pauses for a minute on her way out the door, staring back at her son's dying friend, who just offered himself up as a willing sacrifice to keep merlin’s secret safe.  

she and merlin are the only people in the room who understand the real import of that moment, the real meaning of that gesture.  they’re the only ones who know what’s happening, what it really means for will to say “i did it.”

hunith knows she misjudged that kid big-time.

viii. you can be my ride or die

so.  will.

why am i even interested in him?  what is it about this character that makes me want to write about him?

number one: i love him because he’s the only person we ever meet who cares exclusively about merlin.  

everyone else merlin has met up until this point is either a) as beholden to camelot and arthur as merlin is himself, or b) aware of merlin’s “destiny,” which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but does change the way people talk to him and treat him.  

it’s not that merlin doesn’t have people who care about him, but those relationships are not the same as the one he has with will.  merlin is obviously #1 in his mom’s life, of course - but, importantly, even hunith’s immediate reaction to merlin’s uncertainty at the end of 1.10 is to tell him that he has to go back to camelot, that arthur needs him, that he’s “the other side of a coin.”  this despite the fact that hunith has known arthur for all of five minutes and that merlin, in the moment where she talks to him, is in a lot of pain, and maybe it isn’t the most appropriate moment say, ‘hey, you absolutely must devote yourself to that guy i literally just watched lecture you about the evils of magic while attending your (supposedly magical) dead best friend’s funeral.’  

and when it comes to merlin’s camelot network, well - he’s #1 in gaius’s life, too, but gaius also is deeply concerned with the greater good, with the future emergence of albion, with what merlin is meant to become and do.  morgana and arthur - well, they don’t know merlin, first of all (really know him, all of him, the important bits) - they definitely like him well enough, and care about him in their way, but ultimately they’re royalty or pseudo-royalty and they have priorities that go beyond merlin, who, at the end of the day, is still a servant.  gwen comes the closest to being on merlin’s level, but she doesn’t know him-know him either, and as time goes on she gets more involved with the Crown, with arthur, and with the responsibilities all of that brings.  even merlin’s later friends all go on to have other missions - they absolutely all love him, but they all become knights, and they are as concerned about the well-being of the realm and the king as merlin is.  even merlin HIMSELF puts arthur’s life ahead of his own - he defines his worth by how well he can protect his prince.  

but will is the only person we ever meet who just cares about merlin - merlin the regular person, not the servant he pretends to be, or the legend he’s supposed to become.  not the fake, non-magical merlin facade (which is what almost everyone else needs merlin to be before they can condescend to be his friend) and not some destiny-laden figure out of prophecy, either.  will doesn’t know anything about destiny or prophecies.  he’s never needed to know about any of that stuff to care.  he’s always liked merlin.  just merlin.  just as he is.  

that matters.  all merlin ever does in this show is deny himself or be denied of the things every regular human being needs to thrive - love, acceptance, truth, safety.  he constantly puts or is forced to put other priorities ahead of his own interests, to a point where now, by season five, he’s spent years defending a regime that oppresses him, protecting kings who would execute him.  

will, in a display of true-to-character contrariness, upsets that entire narrative, because he does not care one whit about any of the things for which merlin is supposed to sacrifice his life.  will gives less than zero (count them: negative zero) fucks about arthur pendragon, and he doesn’t care about camelot, and he wouldn’t know what “albion” meant if he heard the word.  and it is refreshing - a blessed, beautiful, heartbreaking relief - to see one person in the world who only cares about merlin, for whom arthur pendragon, in comparison with merlin, isn’t the slightest bit important.  arthur isn’t even on the map.  he’s a non-entity.  he doesn’t exist.  

it’s a complete inversion of the way things are supposed to go, in this story.  you know how it goes - arthur is the once and future king, and merlin’s job is to usher in his reign.  "maybe that is its purpose,” gaius says, about merlin’s magic being meant to protect arthur, about merlin being born this way for that particular reason.  it’s merlin’s job to save arthur’s life.  it’s merlin’s job to teach arthur to be a better person, at his own expense.  it’s all for arthur.  i give my life for arthur’s.  his life is worth a hundred of mine.  what is the life of a servant compared with that of a prince?

will delivers the biggest fuck-you to that entire framework, because he doesn’t assess merlin’s worth based on what merlin can do for some random prince on the other side of the border.  merlin’s magic wasn’t purposed for anything, as far as will is concerned.  it doesn’t need to justify itself.  it just is.  it’s just who merlin is.  

and who merlin is has always been just fine.

ix. am i the only one wondering who the hell this is

for will, it’s people like arthur who need to justify themselves.  arthur with all of his power, arthur riding into little villages with his sword drawn, arthur and his bossing around and his “now, merlin!” conversation-interrupting.  will makes no allowances for wealth and couldn’t be less interested in royalty - his frame of reference isn’t you’re the once and future king and merlin exists to prop you up; it’s who the hell are you?  what gives you the right to be here?  what did you do to earn what you have?  

will, like gwaine after him, is acutely aware of the injustice of the reigning social system, and he’s not afraid to throw it in arthur’s face.  he knows that people like himself and merlin and all of their neighbors are unjustly disadvantaged from birth until death, and he knows they’re disadvantaged solely because the people at the top of the social chain are greedy lords who sow no seed but reap all the grain, who do no work but enjoy the greatest rewards, who steal from the people with impunity and call it divine entitlement.  will knows that he and merlin and all of their neighbors are considered no better than plow-beasts or war-fodder, and he knows that there is absolutely nothing they can do to stop the nobility from either taxing them into starvation or sending them off to die in a ditch - which makes him impossibly angry, and, unlike everybody else in his village, he’s not shy about saying so.

will is, at this point, literally the first non-villain to look at arthur and not immediately see some messianic pinnacle of human greatness - which is refreshing, to be honest, and fair enough besides!  he’s evaluating arthur from merlin’s side of things, after all, which nobody - including merlin - ever does, and while i love arthur as much as anybody - for the people’s hero that he could be, and for what he is, sometimes, if not frequently enough - the truth is that he’s not good for all of his people, not yet, and he’s not good for merlin, not the way things stand right now.  

will knows that.  he looks at arthur and sees a guy with a lot of power, who also happens to rule over the the least magic-friendly place in the five kingdoms, to whom merlin needs to lie in order to avoid the executioner’s block, and he sees merlin deluding himself into thinking that this supremely unequal, extremely unsafe situation counts as friendship.  

now, is will’s assessment of the situation a snap judgment based on personal encounters with an unjust social system and very limited knowledge of arthur as a person?  yes, definitely.  are there nuances to merlin and arthur’s relationship that he’s missing?  absolutely.

is he wrong?

not really.  and merlin knows it.

x. friends don’t lord it over one another!

i think about that line every damn episode.

over and over again, it comes back to me.  i hear it every time arthur gets On His Shit and invokes power he pretends not to have, every time i see more evidence of how this supposed “friendship” between him and merlin is inherently imbalanced.  it’s my favorite thing will says in all of 1.10, because it is so true and yet, most of the time, so unacknowledged as a dynamic.

we’re meant to love arthur and merlin together, and we do - i do; i do; when i see those moments that approach true mutual respect and care between them i am as swept up by the potential beauty of this friendship as anyone - but i still think about this line all the time.  it’s not right, the power dynamic between the two of them.  it’s not just about servants vs. royalty, though of course that’s a structural part of how it plays out.  it’s about the fact that, in a real friendship, one person can’t just whip out “you ever say anything like that again, and i swear you’ll join her in exile forever” to shut down a conversation and cow you into silence.  one person can’t just throw you in jail to spend a night “cooling off,” and they definitely can’t arrest you whenever someone levels a random accusation at you.  in a real friendship, it’s not one person who has all the power.  

but when it comes to arthur and merlin, that’s exactly what happens.  arthur gets to decide when he and merlin are and aren’t friends.  arthur gets to call merlin in or send him away.  arthur gets to make all the decisions about when to listen, when to ignore, when to trust, when to believe.  merlin can nudge, encourage, suggest, even defy, but ultimately, when you get right down to it, arthur is the king, and merlin is his servant, a dynamic which is compounded by the deadly particulars of merlin’s situation.  the relationship isn’t unequal solely because of a difference in social class, it’s unequal because arthur literally has the power of life and death over merlin.  arthur could (and would, as far as merlin knows) have merlin executed any day of the week, if he found out who merlin really was.  

that’s why when merlin tries to tell will that arthur is his friend, will snaps, “friends don’t lord it over one another!”  it’s not that you can’t care about someone who has more power than you, and it’s not that you can’t have some kind of relationship with them, but it is not real friendship if you think your “friend” will kill you when they find out who you really are.  it is not a real friendship if you have to pretend to be someone you’re not in order to preserve the relationship.  real friends don’t leverage impossible amounts of power to shut you up when you say something they don’t want to hear.  real friends don’t say things like “you’ll be a friend for life if you do [x thing]” to convince you to lie to their dad while they go out with a girl and thus get you clapped in the stocks three times in a row, and then turn around and show their appreciation by letting people raid and ransack your house multiple times, throwing you in jail at least twice, accusing (and once nearly executing!) your loyal long-serving mentor more than once - among innumerable other issues.  real friends aren’t “you’re my friend when i need you to be, but not when it’s inconvenient.”  they don’t have the kind of power to turn things on and off whenever they want.

i love that will is the only person who ever acknowledges this, across five seasons of this show.  i love that he spits it out immediately, without hesitation, the minute merlin tries to makes things sound better than they are.  i love that he says it unapologetically, to merlin’s face, because he says it for merlin’s sake, after all - the point of saying ‘friends don’t lord it over one another’ is to say ‘that guy doesn’t appreciate you the way you appreciate him/this isn’t reciprocal and he’s taking advantage of you/this isn’t the friendship you want it to be and i don’t like seeing you settle for this.’  will is that friend who watches you interact with someone and then later gets in your business like ‘EXCUSE ME!  I DO NOT LIKE HOW HE TALKS TO YOU!  I DON’T LIKE HOW HE TREATS YOU!'

will knows that merlin deserves better than arthur pendragon, even when merlin himself won’t concede that point.  merlin won’t advocate for himself, so will tries to do it for him.  merlin can try to convince himself that arthur is a real friend all he wants, but will knows what’s up.  he knows.  he knows where this is going, if merlin’s relationship with arthur is allowed to continue on exactly as-is.  will knows, from the very beginning, that this is a recipe for disaster.  

[addendum 2020: speaking from a post season-5 perspective...will understood where merlin and arthur were headed long before even we the audience did.]

xi. friends don’t lord it over one another [reprise]

you know what real friends do do for each other, though?

a) listen - even when they don’t like what the other person is saying

b) care - even when they’re angry

that’s it.  that’s what matters.  

we don’t need more than an hour of watching will and merlin onscreen together to see that this is how they interact with each other.  they’re arguing for most of this episode, and they’re both right, in different ways, but by the time they’ve had it out with one another, they both understand where their own arguments were wrong, too.  they listen to each other despite the fact that they’re angry, and despite the fact that they both have very strong feelings about their respective positions.  they care enough about each other to look past their personal injuries and accept where the other person is coming from.

merlin starts off this episode absolutely dead-set against using his magic to help ealdor, if there’s any chance arthur could find out about it.  but later, before he and will have even officially reconciled onscreen, we can already see that he’s been listening to what will’s been saying, that he’s come around to will’s way of thinking, because he tells his mother “if it comes down to a choice between revealing who i truly am and saving lives - that’s no choice at all,” hearkening back to will’s “are you telling me you’d rather keep your magic a secret for arthur’s sake than use it to protect your friends and family?”  and: “if arthur doesn’t accept me for who i am...well...then he’s not the friend i hoped he was” (you’re arthur’s servant, nothing more.  otherwise you’d tell him the truth.)  

merlin has been listening the whole time, even if he didn’t like what will was saying.

and the same goes for will, too.  he’s (understandably!) bitter about merlin’s situation, about the way merlin left, about the new life merlin built for himself while will was suffering in a confused limbo of abandonment at home - and will also obviously thinks the Farmers’ Resistance is a total disaster, a noble-spun farce that’s going to get good people killed - but even though he doesn’t trust the camelot contingent and couldn’t give fewer shits about prince arthur pendragon specifically, he trusts merlin.  he listens to merlin, even though they’ve been fighting.  he comes back because merlin keeps telling him it’s the right thing to do.

they both listen, even when it seems like they’re just arguing with each other.  and they both acknowledge where the other person was right, even when it means making themselves vulnerable.  will comes back to help his neighbors fight a battle against hopeless odds.  merlin exposes his magic to save people’s lives.  

they teach each other how to do the right thing.  they make each other brave.

xii. you just saved my life

let’s talk about being brave, then.

this kid jumps in front of a crossbow for a guy he doesn’t even like.

can we be clear about that?  will doesn’t even LIKE arthur.  he doesn’t particularly care about him.  he doesn’t accept him as the noble savior of all mankind.  he isn’t interested in defending the nobility, and he certainly hasn’t jumped on the camelot bandwagon.  just because he’s seen that arthur wasn’t planning on sending them all to their deaths without risking his own neck doesn’t mean will is suddenly going to start flying the pendragon crest from atop his house.

but he isn’t going to step back and let a coward shoot another man in the back, either.

arthur’s still a prince, yeah.  arthur’s still sitting at the tip-top of an unjust social system, benefitting from all kinds of privileges he didn’t earn.  arthur’s still a crappy friend to merlin.  heck, two seconds before that crossbow gets fired, arthur’s gone full-on inquisition-mode, interrogating merlin about sorcery, which, given that arthur can just go ahead and have merlin executed with a snap of his fingers, isn’t a great way to earn will’s respect or trust.  

but you know what?  when it comes down to it, will’s automatic, reflexive reaction upon seeing someone in immediate danger is to Get In The Way.  

it doesn’t matter that will doesn’t like arthur.  it doesn’t even matter that he actively dislikes arthur.  will doesn’t even think about it, he just moves.  instinctively.  automatically.  he isn’t going to let anyone standing right in front of him get murdered with their back turned, no matter how much he can’t stand them.  

let’s all take a second to remember and acknowledge something in arthur’s stead, since i’m not sure arthur will do it himself - arthur pendragon would have been dead right there if it weren’t for a dirt-poor peasant farmer from cenred’s kingdom who never had anything nice to say to a prince but still stepped between a pendragon and a crossbow in the name of doing the right thing.  without will, the story would have ended in season 1, episode 10.  albion itself owes its future existence to a young man with no surname who will never be acknowledged or recognized for anything he did, not for teaching the future king a lesson in humility, not for saving the prince’s life, and certainly not for the greatest and most noble move he ever made, because that gesture’s success is predicated upon its remaining a secret.  

this kid saves the entire World That Will Be.  the show would have ended before it ever really began, if not for our man prince william of ealdor.  

merlin knows that, and merlin never forgets it.  but i’m not so sure about everyone else.

xiii. yeah, don’t know what i was thinking

let’s talk about defiance.

this kid is dying, and he’s still full of piss and vinegar.  when arthur says, wide-eyed, “you’re a sorcerer,” will responds, “yeah.  what are you going to do, kill me?”  

what a power move.  what a thing to say.  

that’s not a question.  that is a no-fucks-given, shame-and-blame challenge.  

what are you going to do, kill me?  

merlin uses those exact same words during his confrontation with morgana in 3.02.  when he’s trapped - when he’s cornered and betrayed and angry - he reaches for the kind of defiance he once saw exercised on his own behalf, for a shameless bravery that burned itself into his brain.  for the kind of strength he wants to channel himself.

when it comes to holding your ground in front of the pendragon dynasty, merlin learned from the best.

xiv. and i’m prince william, of ealdor

let’s talk about names.

william: from wil (will or determination) and helm (protection, a helm)

hence the common translation of resolute protector.

which, given the events of 1.10, seems very fitting.

xv. i did it

let’s talk about lies.

because resolute protector rings even more powerfully true when it comes to merlin than it does for arthur.

at the time of this writing, i have four more episodes to watch before i’m done with season 5.  at this point, at the end of the show, merlin’s magic is still a secret.  merlin’s gotten involved in a lot of dangerous situations, risking his life in other ways, but the one danger he’s never had to really confront is the executioner’s block, because none of the pendragons know his secret.

and the reason none of the pendragons know his secret is thanks to our boy prince william of ealdor, who turns his own untimely death into a last-second rescue operation by telling the Biggest Damn Lie of his life and then doubling down on it when merlin tries to tell him no.

will is the one who secures merlin’s next five years of relative safety.  not from all of life’s dangers, of course; no one can do that - but when it comes to merlin’s greatest fear, the worst outcome, the prospect of being dragged out of his home in chains and murdered in front of an ogling crowd for just existing - will buys merlin’s escape from that fate with his life.  merlin remains hidden and unexposed to this very day because will died protecting his secret, because will lied to the prince of magic-hunting and invited upon himself all of the risk and scorn and danger and condemnation that a false confession like that entailed.

i honestly don’t know how to express clearly enough the enormity of that moment.  the momentousness of that gesture.  i called it a bold and tremendous lie in some other post somewhere, and i don’t know how else to capture what it was.  the thought of what it would mean, to be merlin, and to see someone throw themselves on the block for your sake, for your safety and your future and your freedom, when the rest of the world and every message you’ve ever absorbed says you don’t deserve to be safe, you don’t deserve to be free, you don’t deserve to exist.  

it is impossible to overstate how much that matters.  merlin carries that with him for the rest of his life.

xvi: i can’t fight you anymore (it’s you i’m fighting for)

let’s talk about love, okay?

this ep is called the moment of truth, right?  

so here are some truths about will.  in the time that we spend with him, we come to understand that he is the following:

a poor peasant kid with nothing to his name

a kid whose father is dead  

a kid whose mother is either dead or absent

a kid who “people are used to ignoring”

a kid who’s been making his own way through this backbreaking subsistence-farmer’s life with no grown-ups to hold him or help him or listen to him when he comes home at night

a kid who isn’t trusted to protect merlin’s secret, even by merlin’s own mother, whom will has known for his entire life

a kid whose only friend in the world fucked off to the country next door without a hint of warning or any indication that it was something that should matter to either one of them, making will think he misread the only meaningful relationship he’s ever had, because if merlin can just vanish to nowhere and not even bother to send a note, then either merlin wasn’t actually his friend to begin with or merlin was his friend at one time but doesn’t want to be anymore, both of which options are soul-crushing

a closed-off, heavily-armored, hurting kid who’s been unspeakably lonely for the past few months but also angry and ashamed at himself for feeling that way, because how stupid did he have to be, to think that he mattered to someone, that someone would ever want him or love him or need him or miss him, to think that this time would be different, that this time somebody wouldn’t leave him -

and even in this state - even in the midst of all this -

at the moment of truth, he still puts himself on the chopping block.  he still says, “you’ll have to go through me.”

he comes through for merlin.  of course he does.  the irony is bitter and beautiful - hunith sent merlin away precisely because she didn’t trust that merlin would be safe with will knowing about his magic, but in the end it’s will who gives up everything to keep merlin’s secret concealed.

not just to keep it concealed, even - to reverse merlin being outed.  merlin had already been exposed.  the deed was done!  the magic was seen!  it was all over - and then, miraculously, it wasn’t.  what will did was the only way merlin could ever have slipped safely back under the cover of secrecy.

will didn’t have to do that.  he didn’t have to lie about performing magic, and he didn’t have to save arthur, either.  it would have been better for will to let arthur die, in fact, and it would have been better for him to let merlin get caught, too, because ‘maybe then merlin would have to stay here with me’ - but will is so much better than petty revenge.  he’s so much better than anybody ever gives him credit for, merlin excepted.  

the fight will has with merlin doesn’t matter to him, in the end.  it was a complicated situation for both of them; will knows this.  if he weren’t dying now, he and merlin would have talked it out and made up - will knows that, too.  things could have gone a little smoother between them, maybe, and will still thinks going back to camelot is less than what merlin deserves, but it’s what merlin wants, and the mark of truly loving someone is when you want the best for them, even if it means you don’t get what you want for yourself.  so ultimately, when it comes down to it, the truth for will is this: he wants merlin to have a good life.  he wants merlin to be safe.  he wants merlin to be happy.  he wants merlin to be with him, too, but if he can’t have that, it’s no reason to withhold any of the other gifts he can bestow.  if one of those gifts is freedom, if one of those gifts is safety - it’s no choice at all.  

merlin is will’s one good thing.  merlin deserves everything will can give him, as far as will is concerned.

xvii. the only place worth being

this place has been boring without you.

what a thing to tell someone.

what a powerful thing to say to someone whose entire life up to this point has been a litany of ‘there’s something wrong with you,’ ‘you don’t belong here,’ ‘you’re cursed/broken/wrong/unnatural.’  what a dauntlessly loving thing to tell someone whose entire life has been the message ‘people like you deserve to die,’ over and over and over again.

what a singularly beautiful thing it is, for someone like merlin to hear ‘you are what makes this place worth living in.’

xviii: the only one worth seeing

likewise it’s good to see you again.

because it’s not just “it’s good to see you again;” it’s an acknowledgement that merlin is the last person will is ever going to see.  

and will is like, okay.

he’d rather be alive, yeah, but if he had choose - it’s good that it’s you.

xix: the only bed worth sleeping in (is the one right next to you)

the most devastating moment in this sequence, for me, is at the very end, when will confesses fear.

it doesn’t happen until everything else has been taken care of.  arthur’s been fooled, merlin’s been safely shuffled back under the cover of secrecy, everybody’s been taken in by the ruse and sent away, none the wiser  - all the necessary and important business has been dealt with.

only at the very, very end does will’s own predicament rear its ugly head.  only after everything else is done does he even allow himself to feel it.  he’s spent the rest of this sequence making jokes and roasting arthur and keeping it all together, but at the last second, when he falters, he comes undone for the only person he trusts, the only person who understands him, the only person in the world who gives a damn about him.  his defenses come down, in that last moment, for merlin - and it could ONLY be for merlin - when will says, “merlin, i’m scared.”

we don’t need anything else, to understand their relationship.  we’ve seen enough of will by now to recognize that he keeps the world at arm’s length, that even his walls have walls, that this is just not the sort of thing he would ever admit to.  confessions of pain?  acknowledging vulnerability?  never.  he’s not that kind of character.  we know he has a big heart - look at what he’s doing - but we also know he’s had a hard life.  he’s wrapped himself in layers upon layers of protection - snark and anger and deflection and sarcasm and still making jokes at the prince’s expense after being shot in the chest - nobody is allowed to see him open and undefended, never.

except merlin.

will is dying.  he is so young.  he has been so alone, for so much of his life, and he’s so young, and he’s dying.  he clutches for this lifeline like it’s the only thing he has, because it is the only thing he has - merlin is his only friend.  merlin is the person will loves best in the whole world.

merlin, i’m scared.

that is so unbelievably vulnerable.  that is so utterly naked.  that is totally defenseless, exposed, belly-up and barethroated under someone else’s burning gaze.

that is absolute trust.  will would never have said that in front of anyone else.  he would never have allowed anyone else to see him like that.

his confession is, like pretty much everything else he ever does, for merlin alone.

xx. your heart is on my sleeve

merlin, will keeps repeating.  merlin.

how much do you have to love someone, to make their name your last words?  how much do you have to care about someone, for that to be the only thing you can think to say, again and again, in your last terrified moments on this earth?

that’s a rhetorical question.  

i know how much.

xxi: i missed you too

i think, sometimes, about will, when i watch the later seasons of merlin, and about how he would feel if he could see what merlin’s life has turned into.

i sometimes wonder how he would feel, if he could see how merlin allows himself to be passed over, disbelieved, disrespected.  if he could see how merlin has started to define his worth in terms of how well he is able to protect Some Dude who doesn’t even know who merlin is, who keeps people like merlin trapped in the shadows of subjugation, hidden citizens in their own kingdom.  if will could see how merlin has laid his entire life down for other people’s enrichment, if he could see how little hope merlin now holds for his own happiness, if he could see the way merlin in S5 has given up on his own liberation -  

i don’t have to guess what will would say about it.  i know how he would feel.  if will could see merlin in season 5, his raging little heart would break.

i wish he were here to tell merlin exactly what he thought about it.  merlin does all this self-sacrificing for the sake of his “destiny”; whereas will would think that any destiny making merlin this miserable was a steaming pile of trash.  will would tell kilgharrah to get lost, and to take his questionable advice with him.  will would tell arthur to fuck off - he’s done it already, in slightly less explicit terms.  

does that mean i truly think merlin is supposed to abandon his mission and ditch camelot and run off to live his own life?  no.  merlin cares too much about making the world a better place to be truly happy with that kind of existence; he wants to change things for the common good; he wants to help the people he cares about.  but merlin, as he tries to fulfill his mission, is desperately missing will’s kind of support in his life.  merlin needs someone who is only here for him.  he needs someone who is going to get up in his face and remind him, “you matter.”  he needs someone to tell him, “you deserve better than this.”  he needs someone who isn’t afraid to tell destiny to fuck off, when telling destiny to fuck off is in merlin’s best interests.

merlin needs someone who is on his side.  

not camelot’s side.  not albion’s side.  not arthur’s side.  

HIS side.  merlin’s side.

xxii: he still is

the thing about will, then, for me, is this: i can’t minimize him.

i can’t do it.  i can’t diminish that part of merlin’s life.  

i don’t think it’s possible to overestimate his importance, frankly.  merlin, when we meet him, has only ever had two people in his life.  that is such an...unfathomable experience, for many of us.  just two people.  just two people to know you.  just two people to love you.  just two people, for your whole life.

will wasn’t just some friend.  will was half of merlin’s world.

fannish pursuits that i have seen...the things where will appears are already so limited, and of course that’s completely understandable - it’s not like he’s a main character, or even a side character, by any means; i totally get that.  but - so much of what i see is him serving solely as a set-up for merlin/arthur, or otherwise being shoved out of the way as soon as arthur shows up on the scene, or showing up only to be a receptacle for discussion about arthur and merlin’s developing relationship - even will and merlin’s own ship tag is 90% merlin/arthur fics.

and there’s nothing wrong with this, ultimately; everybody should continue to write exactly what they want and enjoy exactly what they want; that’s the fun of fandom.  i mention these things here only because for me, personally, the whole point of will’s character is that merlin’s life is bigger than just arthur.  the most important relationship merlin had for most of his life had zip-zero-nothing to do with arthur pendragon, and it still has zip-zero-nothing to do with arthur pendragon, after will is dead.  

you remember will’s funeral at the end of 1.10?  arthur has an entire conversation (a horrible one, fyi) with merlin, and merlin doesn’t look at him once.  he answers arthur’s questions because he has to, but his eyes never once leave the pyre in front of him - not while he’s listening, not while he’s talking, not once.  not ever.  arthur comes, arthur chastises, and arthur goes, all without being granted so much as a glance, because this isn’t about him.  this is none of his business.

the whole point of will is that it is possible for someone to love merlin and not give a tinker’s cuss about arthur pendragon.  the whole point of will is that having someone love merlin without caring about arthur pendragon is, in fact, a good thing.  merlin needs somebody like that in his life.  he struggles when he doesn’t have someone like this around to advocate for him.  just look at where he is in season 5 - look at what his life has become, when it’s been years since he had an in-the-know friend.

merlin suffers when he loses this kind of support.  it’s easy to say that will is never mentioned again after 1.10, but there are real reasons why merlin wouldn’t be willing to explicitly mention him, and the lack of explicit references doesn’t mean we can’t still see him, if we pay attention.  we see the immediate impact of his death in merlin’s attitude shift in 1.11.  we see him in 2.02, when merlin names his fake tournament knight sir william and spends the rest of the episode roasting arthur to within an inch of his life.  we see him in the season 3 opener, when morgana levels her sword at merlin and the first thing that pops out of merlin’s mouth is “what are you going to do, kill me?”  we see him in gwaine’s intro episode, when merlin immediately cleaves to this class-conscious ‘people get sick of me too quickly’ stranger whose father was killed fighting one of the king’s wars.  and his absence is felt, more generally (as is lancelot’s) in how quickly merlin’s life starts to spiral out of control once the only two honest friends he ever had are gone.  their loss doesn’t have to be explicitly referenced for us to understand that merlin, without that kind of support system, is faltering.  we see it happening with our own eyes.

[edit, post-viewing-of-S5-finale: and we see where it eventually leads, too.]  

so, once again, as i said - i can’t minimize this character.  i can’t overstate the positive impact of merlin having somebody who was here for him and only him, who affirmed merlin’s value independently of arthur pendragon’s fate, who knew and loved merlin without caring about a “destiny” that ultimately, in the end, turned out to be a cruel joke made at merlin’s expense.  

if will had lived, i’m not sure we would have ended up in quite so dark a place.  we might have landed in some other tight spot, sure, but i can tell you one thing for certain - will would not have sat quietly by and allowed merlin to throw his life away, not for camelot, not for arthur, and certainly not for a parade of empty promises.

xxiii: where you are, there i’ll be

the bottom line is this.

merlin spent the first two decades of his life with one friend.

one.  

loved by one friend.  

one.

merlin had his mother, who was there for him from the beginning, whose love was unconditional, who was an “of course.”

and he had will, who chose merlin, who kept choosing merlin even after merlin told him the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Secret.  will’s presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin grows up believing himself to be deserving of love from people who aren’t his own mother.  his presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin knows how to have and be a friend.  his presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin is who he is - a merlin who’d spent his entire life without a single friend would not have been the same confident, optimistic, gregarious person who later walked into camelot and told arthur pendragon, “i’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

will mattered.  we don’t talk about him much, because he only appeared in one episode, but it wasn’t “one episode” for merlin; it was closer to twenty years of companionship, of elbows in ribcages and smirks exchanged across the room and someone to natter on at, a person to sit next to and walk beside, in every season and all sorts of weather.

will chose merlin, and he kept right on choosing him, until he breathed his very last breath.  that is enough for me to love him, to feel grateful that he existed.  i don’t care how rough he is around the edges.  i don’t care that he hates arthur pendragon’s guts, that he has a big mouth, that he speaks out of turn, that he has no tact, that he can’t suffer fools, that he has a chip on his shoulder the size of a minor planetoid and wings it at people’s heads when the mood is on him.

he loved merlin.  actual, magical merlin; merlin as he truly is, merlin in all his gifted, unnatural, beautiful imperfection.  

that is a desperately rare thing.  that is worth celebrating.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

At What Cost? - Ethan Ramsey x Candice Valentine (Part 1)

A bit of a two part story, a play on this weeks chapter focusing on Ethan and MC’s relationship. She decides her rotation at Edenbrook isn’t all it seems and maybe a new start would be best for them all. Will Ethan talk her round?  trigger warning - a little angsty, a bit of violence, cursing

@drakewalkerfantasy @i-am-liam-rhys @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @desireepow-1986 @glorious-fandoms​ @the-everlasting-dream​ @rainbowsinthestorm​

“Hey guys...” Candice sighed, her cheeks flushed from running from one end of the hospital to the other, “Sorry...” she pulled out her seat beside Baz and June before sitting down, “I got here as fast as I could...” Ethan took the MRI from under Candace’s nose, slamming it into the light box for contrast to see the film more clearly. “Patient from Jefferson, Mr. Thomas Connors...” He narrowed his eyes looking at the scan, “No lesions or no signs of atrophy on initial consultation but cognitive abilities have progressively worsened and memory is impaired...” Candice listened carefully as Baz and June recited one differential after the other, discarding each other’s ideas within seconds, “But it could be an infection...”, “No... there is no history of temperature and lumbar puncture was clean... more like toxin...” Without even looking at her, Ethan barked, “Dr. Valentine! Go run new U&E’s, FBC’s, Tox screen and MRI. We will re-evaluate once we gather more information.”

Since returning to Edenbrook, Ethan had to contain his feelings for Candice and now with Naveen placing her on the diagnostics team, he had to distance himself even more. He didn’t want to give her false hope and kept his distance and his silence was deafening. Picking up the patients record, Candice took a deep breath, her eyes fixating on Ethan. In a crowded room, she never thought she would feel as alone as she did. All Candice wanted to do was scream at him, but she knew it was useless. With the file in her hand, she pushed her chair out and left Ethan’s office. Swallowing hard, Candice ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, tousling the golden strands that framed her face, distracting herself from wanting to cry. She knew that this would have to be her final case on the diagnostics team, the way things were going; transferring to another hospital to finish her rotation seemed to be the most logical step.

As Candice’s heels clicked along the corridor, she was in her own little world. “Woahhhh!!!” shouted Bryce, his hands up as Dr. Valentine bumped into him, “Earth to Candice?!” The physical thud brought her back into the now, shaking her head as she began to giggle, “Bryce... oh my god, I am so sorry!! Are you ok?” Bryce casually looked her up and down, slowly smirking as he admired her jade green dress that emphasised her figure under her white lab coat. He began to grin, “You can buy me a drink later to apologise...” his cocky attitude always made Candice laugh and right now, she needed that. “You’re on Lahela...” she began to smile warmly, “I’ll meet you at Donahue’s after my shift...” Bryce winked at her playfully before walking off, shouting behind him, “It’s a date!” Candice began to shake her head from side to side as she rolled her eyes, muttering “He’s an idiot...” between giggles.

Her deep ocean blue eyes fell towards the folder in her hands, checking the name and room number before entering. With a broad, bright welcoming smile; Candice entered the room to find the patient. Walking towards the end of the bed, Candice pumped some antibacterial hand gel into her hand, running it around before she opened the file up onto the tray table in front of her, “Good morning Mr. Connors...” she spoke warmly, “My name is Dr. Valentine and I will be one of your physicians here at Edenbrook... how are you feeling today?” Candice watched carefully as the patient slowly returned her smile, “Yeah doc...” Mr. Connor pulled himself up the bed, “it hasn’t been too bad...” As Dr. Valentine noted the patients demeanour she closed over his file. Diagnosing was not just about lab results and tests, but also how the patient interacted with the doctor and their mannerisms. “Alright Mr. Connors... I just need to do a few tests if that’s ok?” Taking a torch from her pocket, Candice shown the light into his eyes to check his pupil reaction “Yeah... that looks great... ok, Mr. Connors... I need to take some blood samples, but it shouldn’t be too intrusive...”

The patient raised his brow becoming slightly agitated but not enough to cause Candice any worry, “Why? What for?” Whilst she was picking through the equipment, she cooed, “This is just to make sure nothing has changed Mr. Connors from your last results taken at Jefferson...” she returned with a new set of gloves, a tourniquet and a needle set, “Don’t worry... this won’t take too long, I promise...” with a reassuring voice, Thomas began to calm down as Candice applied the tourniquet, placing her hand gently on his arm. She waited a few moment before her fingers tapped the inside of his elbow. “That’s it...” she cooed, “One little sharp scratch...” quickly she entered the needle before releasing the rubber tourniquet from his arm, getting the samples she needed, “There we go...” Candice calmly spoke, “That wasn’t too bad...” As she disposed of everything, Dr. Valentine reopened Mr. Connors record, documenting everything before grinning, “I have an MRI with your name on it this afternoon... Hopefully we will be able to get to the bottom of this soon... if you need anything...” Candice pointed towards the alarm on the beside cabinet, “Please press the buzzer and we’ll get someone down here as soon as we can...” cleaning her hands again, she set off on her normal rounds, dropping off the samples at the nurses station for testing.

Today was no other day for the young senior resident. The sun was shining through the long narrow vertical panes of glass that filled the hospital, flooding the atrium with light as she completed her patients paperwork and filling out some discharge forms. Candice sucked in her cheeks as she tapped her pen rhythmically against the bundle of paper beside her as she began to re-read the Connors’ case - something wasn’t adding up. Jefferson’s diagnostic team were just as good as Edenbrook, so why the transfer? The patients scans and bloods weren’t exactly perfect, but they would not have caused the same symptoms. He had markers for meningitis but broad spectrum antibiotics were unsuccessful. Her thoughts were interrupted as her pager buzzed in her coat pocket, it was Ethan. Finishing up her last signature, Candice placed her files into the tray for follow up and proceeded to make her way to Ethan’s office. Knocking before entering, Candice pushed the door forward, “Dr Ramsey... you wanted to see me?”

Ethan stared out the window, hands in his pockets without saying a word. Candice’s eyes slightly narrowed, head tilting slightly to the left, “Ethan is everything?...” Her eyes flickered between a light blue to a silver watching as Dr. Ramsey’s shoulders lowered, slowly turning to look at her. “Cand...” Ethan stopped himself, swallowing hard as his eyes met hers, “Dr. Valentine...” Candice didn’t know what to expect as the mysterious Dr. Ethan Ramsey was like a closed book, still now she never knew what he was thinking but she had a feeling he was keeping something from her. Reaching out, she held his hand, her blue eyes glistened with compassion, “Ethan... what’s going on?” His dark brow raised, the feeling of her hand in his killed him; how Ethan longed to just take her into his arms and say ‘fuck it...’ but it wouldn’t matter.

Sighing heavily, he pulled his hand back, “It’s the budget... it was already decided before the Governor turned up...” Dr. Ramsey began to shake his head, “...There’s gonna be a lot of cuts and...” Candace began to roll her eyes condescendingly, “You called me here to tell me that?!” Ethan barely shrugged his shoulders, “I thought...” he watched as Candice folded her arms, as she clicked her tongue, “Well that will make my decision a little easier then... I am going to request a transfer... Mr. Connors will be my last patient working in your team...” his steel blue eyes cut through her, no emotion inside as he turned away to face the window again, his gaze taking in the Boston skyline in front of him. His voice never cracked, changed tone nothing as he spoke “Do what you want Dr. Valentine, it’s not like anything’s keeping you here... most of your patient’s labs were ready an hour ago...”

Candace wanted to speak, she moved her mouth but nothing would come out. He didn’t have to be so cold and distant. She was doing it for the better of everyone, not for herself - wasn’t that the Ramsey way? Shaking her head, Dr. Valentine turned on her heel, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts, slamming the door behind her. The noise of the slamming door caused Ethan to wince, he knew he was wrong but hell if it meant that she could be happy, who was he to question her? All he could think about was his lips on hers, how he didn’t want her; he needed her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think the young, blonde senior resident would would get under his skin that much. Ethan could feel himself clenching his teeth, his hands angrily becoming fists. How could he let this get so far. He was Ethan Ramsey; he needed no one. An uncontrollable growl left his throat as he punched the wall, his nostrils flaring as he seethed, “Damnit Candace!” The skin across his knuckles split by the impact but the pain was only a fraction of the hurt he felt in his heart.

Ethan left lost. He left like that 13 year old boy again when his mother left. Sulking into his leather bound chair behind his desk, Ethan just stared up to the ceiling; a moment that felt like forever until the faint sound of his office phone broke the silence. Angrily he picked it up barking, “Yes?!” He listened as the young attending from Jefferson began to apologise as the full medical history for Thomas Connors wasn’t delivered. Ethan’s steel blue eyes began to narrow in question, “What was omitted?” as the attending stuttered, Ethan’s patience grew shorter, “I’ll not ask again... What the hell was omitted?!” The attending at Jefferson began to apologise, it wasn’t noted that the patient had violent psychological problems as well. Ethan’s eyes widened as he threw down the phone, leaving the attending on the line, as he began to run down the hall “Candace!”

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

totally stealing @honeybabydichotomy‘s meme-adaptation concept re: i have a handful of things that could be described WIPs and nearly all of them i already can’t shut my mouth about, but here is a trip through the GOOGLE DOCS GRAVEYARD of abandoned fandoms past (mcu, trc, something too embarrassing to list above the cut so you’ll just have to CLICK and find out)

first up, the last fic i never actually wrote for, lmao, american idol season 8 RPF fandom, back in 2010... this was going to be a bigbang fic but in keeping with my terrible track record re: challenges etc. i did not finish it, although in my defense that had at least something to do with spilling coffee all over my laptop right around the time i started a very hours-intensive job with a huge commute. when i look at this now i’m like, this sure was me writing ten years ago, but i still love the emotional architecture of any story in which one deliberately shut-off and long-repressed individual is uncomfortably thawed by the miracle of someone else’s open-hearted joie de vivre; it’s the oldest story here but arguably the closest to an actual WIP in that the ghost of that idea is the seed for the divorced quentin AU i harbor hopes of one day writing; you can definitely see the Relevant Vibes in this exchange, i think, although i feel the need to clarify that adam lambert enjoying twilight is a thing he said on national television, i wouldn’t do that to someone on my own:

Veselka is crowded, but despite the bitter February cold, Kris doesn't mind waiting outside for twenty minutes, leaning against the glass display case of the expensive toy store next door, separated from Adam by little more than an inch. "So - okay, this is kind of terrible. Like, worse than the Twilight thing. But I feel like you should know who you're dealing with, so."

"It can't be that bad."

Adam just smiles knowingly. "Oh, can't it?"

"Hit me with your best shot," Kris says. Something twitches in his stomach as Adam raises his eyebrow to that.

Adam leans down to whisper in Kris's ear, sending inexplicable sparks down Kris's neck. "Sometimes, when I'm standing in the street or on the subway or something, I like to watch people go by and try to guess what they're like in bed."

Kris blushes. "Very mature," he says with a nervous laugh, embarrassed about his own embarrassment.

Adam holds up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey. We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars," he intones. "Oscar Wilde."

"Do you think that's true?"

"I think it is. At least - " Adam tilts his chin up, a mischievous glint in his eyes " - I identify with it."

Kris searches for something to say that won't make him seem hopelessly square. "What's the view like from down there?"

Adam gazes at the night sky, where Manhattan's perpetual glow blots out all but the brightest lights. "I like it. You see more of them this way."

Kris thinks he's spent six years priding himself himself on keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead, avoiding the pull of the horizon or the distraction of the sun. "So. Mr. Gutter." He points to a thirty-something man getting out of a parked Ford across the street. "What's he like?"

next up: an unpublished MCU snippet! this was a peggy character study set at howard’s funeral, also an excuse for me to have feelings about tony stark; idiotically, i actually have a complete draft of this, and got a really brilliant beta job from @nimmieamee, but then never went back and revised it and also could not bring myself to post it when despite being passable as done i could tell in my bones it was simply Not Working, even though parts of it i really liked:

Howard had not taken to aging with grace. It, too, offended him: the body betraying the dream of perfectibility. Dodging it had taken up an increasing percentage of his time. He took up jogging, early among the public, too late in his life: a few months in and a busted knee earned him doctor's orders to abandon that pursuit. His bones were already too brittle to benefit. Howard himself had become brittle long ago. You could blame the war; but that was what happened to people with no give to them. They were like the driest branches waiting for a storm, only unlike branches they recognized on some level the precariousness of their structure, and consequently dedicated themselves to forgetting it.

Howard was undeterred. (Being deterred also went against his every principle.) He had swimming pools installed, outdoors in Los Angeles, adorned with artificial rocks arranged just so to give the impression of a hot spring, and indoors in West Hampton, heated, lit underwater with a yellow-green glow throwing tendrils of light on smooth white walls. Fitness gurus and nutrition consultants were put on retainer, a bicoastal platoon to prevent malfunctions; physical therapists were brought in to recalibrate around malfunctions. They quit with increasing frequency, as his temper frayed along with his body. He gave up, in sequence, smoking, alcohol, red meat, all meat, alcohol, sugar, processed grains, alcohol, salt, and direct sunlight--although by the time of this last pronouncement, it produced little noticeable effect.

Lately he had become obsessed with the idea of cryogenic freezing: the fantasy of going to sleep and waking up in a time when his intellectual heirs had figured out how to repair and replace his rusted pieces. Skin firmed and thickened; knees stitched back to mint condition; a whole new heart, perhaps, grown in a jar or assembled from compounds yet to be constructed. "Wouldn't you take the chance, if you had it?" he had murmured, eyes going dreamy as they did when he talked of his latest missiles.

Peggy pictured Steve in the Arctic, his hyperactive cells stilled by the indifferent cold. She shivered, like a child hearing a ghost story, and said no, she wouldn't.

finally, two stories from a fandom i actually never published any stories with, or engaged with in any meaningful way: the fuckin raven cycle. the dumbest books on god’s green earth. the first was a ronan story where gansey actually dies and stays the fuck dead, and ronan handles it by being a huge asshole, and then, unlike in these hideous godforsaken books, actually decides on purpose to be a better person.... i’m realizing revisiting this now that some of the itch of this story i’ve finally gotten out of my system via damage control, but the GENIUS IDEA of ronan giving matthew an actual soul by giving up the dream power and thus becoming an actual human, sadly, does not really transfer, even though it’s the best concept i’ve ever thought of in my life. anyway, whatever, i have a type:

He opened the door. Adam and Blue were looking at him with expressions he couldn't decipher. Noah was looking at the floor.

"Are you—" Adam started. Ronan watched the word okay die of its own irrelevance in Adam's mouth.

"None of you were invited," Ronan said.

Blue started, "We just—"

"Sorry," he said, loud enough to drown her out. "But this is a very exclusive party. That means no rednecks"—he pointed at Adam—"no bitches"—Blue—"and no pussies"—Noah. "So I'm going to need you all to leave."

He focused his eyes on Blue. She looked like she wanted to slap him. This was familiar. He wanted to go back to the time when his only interactions with Blue Sergeant involved saying something and watching her look at him like she wanted to slap him. Things had gotten complicated after that. Then Gansey had died. Ronan couldn't articulate the connection, but he felt strongly that it was there.

"Maybe I wasn't clear," he said. "What I mean is: get the fuck out of my house."

and last but not least, another TRC story, motivated initially by dreaminess and then sporadically continued after TRK came out (seriously like ever 18 months i dig this one out and write another 500 words and give up again) out of spite - a story where, because fuck stief, adam parrish gets a cell phone, ronan lynch gets a job, and no one assumes that finally having sex means you’re basically married forever without even talking about if you’re boyfriends. this one is like, so close to being “done” in that it almost goes beginning to end and has a lot of individual lines i actually like, but has always been very difficult to pull together because of the reality that maggie stiefvater wrote a series such that ronan lynch acting like a decent boyfriend or experiencing character growth or talking about his emotions is literally out of character, which makes it hard to write a dreamy summer hook-up story; i was actually thinking earlier this year of picking it back up YET AGAIN, but then damage control ate my brain... one day, perhaps, for the satisfaction of having finished... or i might just listen to “cruel summer” by taylor swift while meditating on it for a couple million more hours:

“Did you call me over just to give me the fucking silent treatment in person?” Ronan said. It sounded less vicious than it should have. Like he had been aiming for a growl and somehow landed on a mumble.

I didn’t call you over, Adam wanted to say, but it wasn’t actually true. He had. That seemed wrong, though. Ronan Lynch wasn’t someone to be called over. He was too wild and spiteful for that. Even Gansey couldn’t manage it. The rest of Ronan’s world had given up trying long ago.

But when Adam had called, Ronan had come.

He felt like he might throw up.

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” he said instead. “I’m just—“ But he didn’t know what he was doing. So he switched tacks. “You just—“ But he didn’t know that, either. And asking Ronan what the fuck are you doing had never yielded helpful results.

So Adam stuck to the truest thing, what he had worked his whole life to make true. “I’m leaving in three months.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything,” Ronan spat. This time he was closer to the expected intensity, but there was still something strange under his voice. Maybe not. Maybe Adam was just having a nervous breakdown.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Can you do something with a seriously injured/sick Modern!Arthur ending up in the hospital ICU and female reader being his doctor?

This one turned out much different from what I expected. Hope it works for you, Anon! Also, for any of you who work in healthcare, forgive my bullshit. I did some research but I really know next to nothing about it. 

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of smut

You pick up the new chart for your most recent patient and sigh heavily. You figured you’d get this case. Earlier this morning, you’d heard of a car accident and that one of the drivers involved was rushed to your hospital. Sure enough, when you open it to read the patient’s info, it is the same incident. He was terfed to you in the ICU from surgery. You read the name “Morgan, Arthur” but think nothing of it. Just another name. 

Before heading to see your new patient, you stop by the lounge and grab a cup of coffee. You’d like to run downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop and get something better, but you need to see your patient first. You chug the bitter coffee, despite it being eight at night. You’re here until morning anyways, running one of your mandatory night shifts. 

You stop at the nurse’s station and see Hailey, one of the nurses. “Hailey, have you finished with Mr. Morgan?” you ask. She nods. “Yes, I gave him a full workup. He’s still out from the surgery, but I gave him the usual amount of morphine for someone his size.” 

“His size?” you say, furrowing your brow and opening the chart again. In the section stating his height and weight, you read 6’2 and 203 pounds. You mentally shrug your shoulders and thank Hailey, asking if there’s anything more you need to know before going into his room. She shakes her head and goes off towards another room. 

When you open the door to Arthur’s room, you look at him lying in the hospital bed. He’s got the usual set up: IV, heart monitor on his finger, cast around his left arm. You open his chart again and read the surgery to fix his arm took just under five hours and they’d had to put a few pins in near his elbow. He also needed a transfusion during surgery. You go over to a board holding up his CT and x-ray scans. It was reported that he may have struck his head on the driver window of his truck and it was thought he might have some swelling in his skull. Luckily, his scans are negative for that and the only thing broken is his arm. He also has a tear in his rotator cuff and a laceration in his calf. Those things considered, he’s very lucky. You’d read the article about the accident. He’s lucky to be alive, his truck was a pretzel. 

You check over him. He is quite handsome, but you’re professional of course. He’s not the first handsome man who’s been thrown your way and he certainly won’t be the last. Just as you’re writing down some notes about his condition, his eyes open slightly and he looks around, his eyes landing on you. This is a good opportunity for you to check his mental condition, or at least as much as you can since he’s still under the influence of the anesthesia. 

“Hello Arthur, can you hear me?” you say softly, standing close to him. 

His heart beat picks up a bit and he breathes out heavily. “Was… accident…” he mumbles in a gruff voice. 

“That’s right, you were in an accident. You’re okay though, you’re in the hospital. Just take it easy and relax.”

You give him a few moments to wake up a bit further and collect himself. When you ask him if he’s in any pain, he says no. You offer him a sip of his water and he takes it. Just as you’re lowering the glass and getting ready to leave, his good hand suddenly shoots up and grabs yours. This isn’t unusual, of course. People respond differently when waking up from the drugs he’s on. At least he isn’t being aggressive. 

“You’re real pretty,” he says roughly. “Real pretty.” His eyes close and he’s out again. You smile to yourself. When you first came in and noticed his large build and rugged appearance, you didn’t figure he’d be sweet like this. You’re curious how he’ll be when he’s more coherent. 

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

It’s nearly five in the morning and you’re nearly done with your shift. It’s been a long night, but not unusual. You’re making your last rounds again to check on your patients before heading home. You stop by Arthur’s room and go in. Rebecca, another nurse, is in the room, checking on his supply of fluids and the monitors. 

“Did he wake at all?” you ask.

“Only for a moment or two. Said he wasn’t feeling much.” 

“Good,” you say, but you’re curious. Rebecca’s pretty, much prettier than you in your opinion. “Hey, when he was awake, did he call you pretty?” 

“No,” she says and you can tell she’s being honest. “Why?” 

“Hmm, nothing. Just… heard from one of the other nurses he’d called them pretty,” you lie. You’ve never once thought of yourself as attractive, but pride yourself on acting like you don’t care. You’ll die before you admit to anyone that the one thing you want most is to curl up in the arms of someone who loves you. You’ve been alone so long, you’ve given up on exploring what that feels like, so you’ve pretended like you don’t care, that you prefer being alone. 

Rebecca smiles. “Well, lucky her. He’s cute! Got that rough look some girls just love.” 

“You mean you love,” you tease. She giggles and walks out. You sigh and go over to his bed, checking him over again despite Rebecca having just done it. You aren’t quite sure why, you don’t do this with the other patients when they’ve just been checked on since you can trust the nursing staff. “Get a grip on yourself,” you say quietly. “Just because he called you pretty when he was floating in outer space doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably find you just as ugly as everyone else when he’s back to normal.” 

You mentally shake yourself and leave the room before you can make yourself sink further.

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

That night, you’re back for another long 12 hour shift. You hadn’t given this Arthur Morgan another thought from the second you left his room, but now that you’re standing outside of it, you realize the effects of the anesthesia will have completely worn off by now. You brace yourself, ready for him to not remember you at all. 

When you open the door, he’s awake, though you can tell he’s still fairly doped up and could very easily fall back into a drug-induced slumber again. He doesn’t even seem to know you’re there until you’re standing next to him. 

“Mr. Morgan,” you say softly to catch his attention. He looks up at you and smiles a bit. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Doctor (your last name).”

“You’re my doc?” he says, his voice soft. “Well, ain’t I the luckiest?” 

You smile down at him. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan, there are plenty of doctors here that are just as good as me. Some are probably even better.” 

“Bet none of ‘em are as pretty as you though.” 

This stops you. It wasn’t like the last time when he called you pretty. He’s much more conscious this time, though still doped up. “Like I said, don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan. Now while you’re awake, I want to ask you a few questions.” 

You go through the usual questions for someone in his state, making sure he doesn’t have a brain injury, how much of the incident he can recall, and of course if he’s in any pain or experiencing any numbness. Again, he’s lucky, he can recall most of what happened and his pain is manageable.

Just as you’re making your last notes, he catches your attention. “Am I gonna get transferred somewhere else any time soon?” 

“Not if we can help it, Mr. Morgan. We’re hoping you’ll be out of here tomorrow, then you’ll be taken to post-surgery. Once you’re deemed well enough to go home, you’ll be released.”

He smiles again. “Good. Will you be down there with me?”

His question takes you by surprise. Of course you’ve had patients get attached to you, but they’re usually the ones that stay here for longer periods of time. 

“N-no, Mr. Morgan. I’m an ICU doc, I don’t do anything with surgery.” 

His smile fades a bit. “But you will come see me, won’t ya?” 

You can’t resist the look of hope in his face. “I will do my best, Mr. Morgan.” 

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

Arthur stays in your section of the hospital for the remainder of the night, but in the morning he’s well enough to be transferred to post-surgery. You aren’t there when he’s rotated, so when you check the room that night to find it empty, you feel a bit bummed. You go to your office and look up his record to find where he’s been moved. Room 102 in post surgery and he’s scheduled to be released in the morning as long as his new doctor determines the amount of pain he’s in. 

You decide to go visit Arthur in his new room to see how he’s doing. You rarely do this for your patients, except for those you take an academic interest in (such as a few years ago when a teenage girl got ejected from a vehicle and lived). You’ve never done it because of a personal interest though. 

After making your rounds, you make your way to the post surgery unit. You greet some of the doctors you pass by, some of them you know. Finally you find room 102. You knock on the door and open it, wondering if he’s asleep. His TV’s on, playing some silly late night adult cartoon, but his eyes are closed. You can tell by his expression he’s not asleep. 

You approach his bed slowly and he opens his eyes, a smile immediately stretching across his face. “Hey doc. I’m real glad you came to see me.” 

“Hello, Mr. Morgan. Just wanted to make sure you’re adjusting fine,” you lie. 

“Oh I’m peachy.” 

“You glad to be going home tomorrow? I’m sure they explained the process to you of dealing with your broken arm.” 

“They did, yes. But I ain’t too sure about how I’m gonna get home. Call an Uber I guess.” 

“You don’t have someone to pick you up and take you home?” you ask. 

“Nah. I’ve lived alone on my ranch for some time now. Used to live with my adopted father, uncle and brother but… father died, uncle went crazy and ran off, my brother did too. Ended up in a big mess and I was left with the ranch they owned. I ain’t got no one. ‘Cept Copper my dog. Ya can call him but he don’t answer his cell hardly ever.” 

You laugh, despite yourself. “Bet he would if he could, Mr. Morgan. And I’m real sorry about your predicament. Don’t you have a girlfriend or… someone special who you could depend on?” 

Okay, now you’re treading in dangerous waters. Asking him questions to scope out if he’s available or not. What is wrong with you? 

“Nah, I was engaged a few years ago but… it didn’t end well. Her daddy didn’t like me and to be honest I ain’t too sure why I ever loved her. She used me a lot. Ain’t had no one since.”

“I almost find that hard to believe, good looking man like yourself.’

Seriously, what is wrong with you? It’s time to stop. You should never have come down here. Just because he called you pretty a couple times when he was doped to hell doesn’t mean he was interested in you. For all you know, he’s just a friendly guy when he’s drugged up. Some patients are like that. You once had a woman younger than you try to adopt you and the rest of your staff when she came out of having surgery and got tossed to your department.

“Nah, most women don’t seem interested in me. ‘Sides, I ain’t what I’d call good looking,” he says. 

“Hmm, well maybe you need to look at yourself from someone else’s perspective, Mr. Morgan.” Okay, you’re really pushing your personal envelope here. It’s time to leave before you step into dangerous waters. Close the curtains on this before you get into something you’ll regret. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing better, Mr. Morgan. I’m real sorry for your predicament, but it could certainly be worse.” 

You close his chart and begin turning to leave, making yourself silently promise to never make it a point to see him again. Just as you’re about to grab the door handle, he calls to you. 

“You, uh, you ain’t single, I’m guessin’,” he says. 

“W-why?” you ask. 

“Well,” he’s blushing now. “Was thinkin’ I’d really like to get to know ya. Not when I’m stuck in a hospital bed with God knows what bein’ pumped into me so I don’t feel nothin’. Proper, I wanna get to know ya proper. Take ya to dinner maybe.” He rubs the back of his neck with his good hand. “Course if you’re with someone, I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”  

You sigh and turn to face him. “I’m not with anyone, Mr. Morgan. Trust me, though. You don’t wanna date me. I’m… I’m a workaholic. Most of my time is spent here and when I am at home I’m doing paperwork.” 

“Well it’s nice to know you’re so dedicated to your career but that don’t tell me a damn thing about ya.” 

You shuffle your feet and look away. “You’re better off not knowing me, Mr. Morgan. Most people get to know me don’t like me. Not like that anyways.”

“Can I be my own judge on that?” he asks. “Please, doc, I’d love to take ya to dinner. Humor me just once?” 

You sigh. “Okay.” 

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

A few weeks have gone by and you haven’t heard a peep from Arthur, despite having exchanged cell numbers with him. Not that you’re surprised. Once he weaned himself off the major painkillers, he probably came to his senses. You try to pretend to yourself that you’re not bummed about it and drown yourself in work. It’s hard to convince yourself that you weren’t excited though. You haven’t been on a date in years. 

Just as you’ve finally begun to forget the whole thing, your cell phone goes off on one of the few nights you have to yourself. You pick it up and read the text. “Sorry I haven’t spoken to you since I was released. Been trying to put my life back together. Dinner still? -Arthur.” 

So he hasn’t forgotten you. Your stomach tightens. Do you really want to go through with this? Part of you wants to lie and say you’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else. “Come on, Y/N,” another voice says. “You didn’t get to becoming a doctor through squeezing out of uncomfortable situations. If it ends up awkward, just get some bread rolls, hightail it out of there and block his number.” 

It’s been ages since you did something for yourself on a personal level though. Sure, you’ve done a lot of things you didn’t like in order to advance in your education and your career, but not on a personal level. 

It’s been ten minutes since you got his text and you’ve been arguing with yourself on whether or not to take him up. Finally you pick up your phone and type “I’d love that.” 

A few moments go by and he responds back, asking where you’d like to go.

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

Three days later, you’re standing outside your favorite restaurant, an Indian place, waiting for him to arrive. You’re still scared of what might happen tonight, but you’re betting nothing good will happen. You doubt he’ll attack you or anything, most likely he’ll just figure out he really doesn’t like you and then never speak to you again. Hell, he might already be ghosting you. Whatever, if he is, no skin off your nose. You’ll just order out from this place and take it home to watch your favorite movie. 

It’s fifteen minutes past when he said he’d be here, but still nothing. You sigh and start turning to walk in when you hear the engine of a truck pull into the driveway. Turning around, you see a gray Dodge Ram pulling into a space. A moment later, Arthur gets out of it. He beams when he sees you, his arm still in a cast and walking with a slight limp. 

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic jam held me up.” He grabs the door and holds it open for you.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you say. 

Over dinner, Arthur asks you a ton of questions about yourself. You’ve never opened up so much to anyone, but he seems so genuine in his responses and so enthusiastic about getting to know you, you can’t help it. You end up staying at the restaurant for two hours.

He reveals a lot about himself as well, what his life is like now and how it used to be before his family fell apart. You can’t help but think you couldn’t find a more loyal, hard working man than him. By the end of the two hours, you can’t help but wonder if you’re feeling something for him. 

You finally leave the restaurant, but more for the sake of the waiting staff than anything else. Arthur walks you over to your car. When you get there, he stops you. “Y/N, thanks for lettin’ me take ya to dinner.” 

Oh no, he’s going to follow up with this by telling you he isn’t interested in going further. You mentally prepare yourself to block this in order to protect yourself. 

“I’d love to go out with ya again, if you’d like. Ya seem like a wonderful person.” 

“Huh?” you say out loud.

“I, uh, I said-” 

“No I know what you said,” you respond, your face burning. You hadn’t meant to voice your confusion. “I meant… why in the hell would you want to go out with me? Honestly you’re a trooper for doing it once. You must be insane for wanting a second go.” 

He cocks his head to the side slightly. “You really don’t like yourself much, do you?” 

His question causes you to blush even more. You look down at your feet, not sure what to say. “I guess not. That’s why I became a doctor. I didn’t do it because I wanted to help people. Just… guess I wanted to boost my own ego.” 

He sighs heavily. “Y/N, can I try somethin’ with ya? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” 

“What is it?” you ask quietly, on the verge of tearing up. 

He extends his good arm, holding it out to you. You realize what he’s offering to do. You can’t remember the last time anyone hugged you, or even touched you in any kind of affection. He slowly approaches and you feel yourself tensing up. His arm gently wraps around you, his hand gently touching your mid back. He slowly pulls you to him until you have to settle against his chest. You find yourself leaning into him though. God, he’s warm and he’s firm. He smells good too. You’d been worried he wanted to hug you in order to gain some kind of grounds for sex, but this feels different. Platonic, almost. His arm grips you tight and you rest against him. A vortex of emotions goes through you. Confusion, fear, yearning, but most of all, gratitude. You know exactly what effects physical touch can do to a person, the chemicals it releases. How humans are wired to thrive better both physically and mentally through touch. Yet you’ve received so little of it, it feels almost alien to you. 

As he continues to hold you, you suddenly find yourself crying into his blue plaid shirt. You don’t know why, either. As the first few tears fall, you feel something inside yourself breaking like a dam and you’re sobbing. He pulls away, looking down at you, a worried expression on his face. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you upset. You shoulda said you didn’t like-”

“No it’s not you, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” you sniffle, rubbing your cheeks dry. “I don’t know why I’m crying, Arthur. All I know is… you’ve shown me more kindness tonight than I’ve experienced throughout the last five years.”

“Jesus, Y/N, I done hardly nothin’.” He looks down, the expression of worry changing to sorrow. He extends his arm again to you and you happily go into it, resting against his warm, strong body.

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

You’ve been on multiple dates with Arthur at this point. During every single one of them, he’s made it a point to hold you close to him. He knows now just how touch-depraved and starved you are. He’s the same way, he’s admitted, so he enjoys the opportunities too. Your last date had been nothing but you both curling up on your couch wrapped in each other’s embrace as you watched a movie. You ended up falling asleep in his arm, but he didn’t move at all. He just loved the sensation of having someone he loved trust him enough to do so. 

Your first kiss had been sweet. It had been sunset and Arthur insisted on taking a walk in a park not too far from your house. He’d held your hand the entire time, but halfway through your walk, he’d stopped you and pulled you into a kiss. He didn’t push things further with you than that, but since then you’ve kissed him every time you’ve seen him. Even those times you’ve only seen him for five minutes. 

You’ve started to really fall hard for him. You’re starting to think you want to sleep with him. How could you not, after all? He’s handsome, tall, broad, but more than that, he’s sweet, thoughtful, and compassionate. However, it will be hard for you to make love to him with his cast still on. Even when it comes off, he’ll need physical therapy. But you might be able to make things work. 

That night when he comes over, you greet him with a home cooked dinner (a rare occurrence for you). He greets you with a sweet, soft kiss. After dinner, you take his hand. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you say, trembling lightly. You haven’t slept with anyone since college, and those people you felt no affections for. You’d slept with them to blow off steam to handle the stress of school. Arthur’s different. You want to have sex with him to show him how much you love him. 

“Oh?” Arthur says, curious. You lead him to your bedroom. He’s well acquainted with it. One night you’d gotten pretty sick from some bad food. When you told him your predicament, he’d come over and slept in your bed, holding you all night. He’s spent several nights in your bed since, but he’s never tried pulling a move. 

When you get to your room, you guide him to sit down on your bed. When he’s positioned, you slip off your shirt and then your bra. You can hear his breathing pick up and his eyes go down to your tits. 

“Ya… ya sure?” he asks. 

You bite your lip, smile and nod. “Yes, Arthur. I’m ready.” You slide into his lap, straddling him and gently push him to lay on his back. He does so, letting you take complete control. You undress him slowly, being aware of his injured arm. He’s so goddamn attractive, you can’t help but admire the hair on his chest, his firm arms, his treasure trial, beyond that. You already know he’s going to put all your past sexual encounters to shame. 

“Let me take a refresher course in anatomy, Mr. Morgan. You obviously don’t mind being my subject,” you say. God, you couldn’t make this sound more like a bad porno if you tried. Oh well, he seems excited. You mentally roll your eyes at yourself and go to work. 

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

In the morning, you wake up still naked, lying with your head on Arthur’s chest. His heart drums in your ears. His hand starts brushing through your hair, he knows you’re awake. You look up at him and smile. 

“I never asked if you liked my surprise,” you say. 

He grins. “More than you know.” He leans up and kisses you sweetly. “When this arm’s better, I’ll make sure to really give you a good time, darlin’.”

You groan into his mouth. He’d done some pretty amazing things to you last night you definitely won’t forget for a long time, if ever. “I can’t wait.”

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

If You’re Good At Something, Never Do It For Free Chapter One: In Need Of Some Assistance

I figured I’d post the first chapter of my WIP on here! TDK Joker x Original Female Character. It is currently at 17 out of ? (Where it stops, nobody knows!) chapters on AO3! 

**Warnings for full fic include: Graphic violence, explicit language, blood and gore, smut smut smut, graphic depiction of corpses, murder, aaaand recreational drug use!**

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! I might eventually put all of the chapters up on here or check it out on AO3!

Meet Nora Hawthorne. She spent her time like most Gotham residents. Go to work, go home, keep up with the news. That changed one night. Her life becomes even more interesting after Gotham's own Clown Prince of Crime comes crashing in with a life-threatening injury, leaving her questioning her morals as well as her romantic desires

Jesus, it’s been a long day. A woman with brunette hair above her shoulders, wearing a pair of loose teal green scrubs stands from her desk chair to twist her torso until a satisfying *crack* is heard, followed by a deep sigh. The noise of her tired spine popping into alignment is heard only by her as she stands alone in the treatment area of the now empty veterinary hospital. The brick structure sits between an apartment building and a law firm in West Harlow, the Gotham City neighborhood west of downtown, adjacent to The Narrows. This location makes Dr. Nora Hawthorne one busy veterinarian. On a daily basis she tends to anything from impatient businessmen toting in their wives’ teacup Yorkies with a little cough to large Rottweilers with deep neck wounds. To say she’s gained a variety of experience is an understatement.

She doesn’t own the place, though. Two years out of school and 30 years old means she has some hefty bills to pay. Dr. Moore owns the clinic. Taking this job meant long hours and a busy schedule with not much sympathy from David Moore. “Your generation expects everything handed to them, don’t you? I had to work harder than this to get where I am,” as he just loved to remind her of every time she requested time off for a little… what is it called again? Oh right, work-life balance. Sure, Moore. Enjoy your mini mansion in Uptown since it seems you have no problem balancing the weight of your business on a pair of younger shoulders. Even if it means those shoulders are constantly wound up in to deep knots that no amount of morning yoga can seem to unravel. But she can’t quit. Those bills to pay threaten to pile higher and she’s afraid of heights. Plus, job security in Gotham is hard to come by. Especially since the Joker escaped from Arkham two months ago.

That was in May. Everyone in the city has been on edge since then and the Summer heat is not helping. The days go by but not a peep has been heard in regard to the Clown Prince of Crime’s whereabouts. Same for the Batman. The eerie silence has only been making it worse. The traffic congesting the city streets increases in intensity every evening as Gotham’s citizens rush home in an effort to avoid getting caught up in whatever devastating scheme the Joker has been cooking up during his involuntary vacation. But the threat never comes, leaving the city’s inhabitants to nervously watch and wait. Maybe it won’t come. Maybe he left Gotham for good. Left to terrorize a new city. Wishful thinking is what gets us all through the day. But the tension still weighs on everyone’s nerves, making Nora’s day that much harder when she gets an earful from her clients on a regular basis for things that are out of her control. “Sir, you don’t need to speak to me like that. I did not give your cat a urinary tract infection,” is not something she thought she’d ever find herself saying.

It is what it is. All she can do is keep her head on her shoulders and do her job, care for Gotham’s only truly innocent citizens. Animals don’t dwell in the past, they only live in the present. In that regard, they’re smarter than the majority of Gotham’s inhabitants. She made it her job to advocate for their health and well-being, since they can’t do it themselves. Nora was staying late to finish medical records for the sea of patients the clinic took in that day and she wanted it all recorded while it was fresh in her brain. If you don’t write it down, it didn’t happen. She told her assistant, “You go on home, I’ll just be here finishing notes. Get some rest.” The heavy set women expressed her concern for Dr. Hawthorne being here by herself but the job has gotten her used to being out well after dark. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door locked,” was the response her assistant, Jen, would always get in return. She didn’t want to argue so she would leave Nora to her work within the off-white walls of the dimly lit hospital in silence.

Nora stretched once more and shifted a glance to the clock on the wall. 9:58pm. Had it been fourteen hours already? Her stomach responded with a growl as if to answer in the affirmative. The hard-working staff finished cleaning the treatment room a couple of hours ago leaving the two metal tables in the center of the room shiny and ready for whatever tomorrow brings. The room wasn’t very large but the open design left ample room for patient care. The treatment tables against the walls opposite from each other extended toward the center of the room, leaving a four foot space between them, and had ceiling-mounted exam lights above them. Along the walls there were shelves of neatly organized equipment and tools. Essentials. White medical tape, boxes of gloves, bandage scissors, IV catheters in a variety of sizes, thermometers, bottles of isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, jars with gauze soaked in chlorhexidine scrub, sterile lubricant, needles and syringes, and bandage material being among the most heavily utilized items. Along the back wall is a bank of cages and kennels for patients spending the day in the clinic (any patients in need of continued care were transferred to a nearby twenty four-hour hospital) flanked by drawers full of IV fluids and sterilized tools. The back right corner of the room opened into a short hallway leading to the area that housed a small surgical suite, devoid of any light this time of night, where a cart with monitors and a gas anesthesia circuit sat in wait for its next use. Just beyond this suite is a small door marked “Radiology” indicating the digital X-ray equipment kept inside, keeping radiation exposure to the rest of the place at a minimum. Nora’s desk is in the back left corner of the treatment room, a shelf full of medical reference books sitting above her head.  Also that “World’s Greatest Dog-tor” certificate Jen gave her last Spring. Nora didn’t have the heart to tell her she found it kind of insulting.

With the last medical record completed, details of the day’s procedures noted in succinct but thorough language, it was time for the doctor to make her way back to her nearby apartment for some much needed rest. She left her seldom-worn long white lab coat on the back of her chair where it always was and removed the black stethoscope from around her neck to place it on her desk. Walking toward the red-lit exit sign above the side door leading to the alley, she flicked the switch to turn the remaining lights off. She usually had a small can of pepper spray readied in her hand when she left alone at a late hour. But Nora had been practically beaten into the ground with exhaustion at this point and her thoughts were instead centered around a hot shower and her soft bed.

She opened the door to receive a gust of warm night air to her face, intensifying her sleepy feelings. Letting out a rather large yawn, she turned to put her keys in the door to lock it. As she removed the key from the lock, she felt a strange sensation on the back her neck. Like a crawling of her skin, a feeling of dread. Before she could turn around in search of the source of her body’s sudden danger signal, a purple glove slammed onto the door next to her head. Her eyes snapped to the glove and she froze, unable to breathe, while her heart jumped into her throat.

“Evening, doc,” a nasally, raspy voice said. She slowly turned her head to find herself face to face with the Joker himself, leaning with his gloved hand against the door. His makeup was smudged wildly and he was wearing his signature purple overcoat and suit. All color drained from Nora’s face as her breathing quickened to a practically panting rate, the idea of sleep drowned in a surge of adrenaline. Before she could make a sound his other gloved hand clapped over her mouth, a knife tucked between his thumb and index finger, the blade laying flat across the top of his hand.

“Ahh tah tah, no screamin’, doc. Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors, would we?” he said, his dark eyes staring straight into hers. Nora struggled to regain her composure, it did her no good to panic. She knew begging and crying would get her nowhere with the Joker. Better to have as clear a head as possible. She took a sharp inhale through her nose. The wave of gasoline and extinguished matches that met her nostrils was overwhelming. It almost made her dizzy. But she slowly let the breath back out through her nose. Their gaze into each other’s eyes, hers wide with fear, his black and hooded, had not been broken since his zeroed in on hers. It was like magnets were keeping her eyes on his, no matter how hard she tried to look away, she couldn’t do it.

“Now. I’m going to move my hand and youuu are not gonna scream. Got it?” his voice getting slightly higher as he spoke. Without thinking Nora nodded slowly, still not breaking their stare, as he slid his hand from over her mouth.

She allowed herself to blink. Then, trying not to let her voice crack, she quietly said, “H-How did you know I’m a doctor?” Stupid stupid stupid. You are an idiot Nora Hawthorne.

Joker let out a breathy giggle and Nora’s gaze then fixated on his mouth. His scars. They were even more striking up close. Nora was no stranger to stitching up wounds and these must have been awful. She didn’t want him to see her eyeing them so she shifted her eyes back up to his.

“Who else would be here this la-te, hm?” Nora couldn’t do anything but open her mouth and shake her head, her eyebrows knitted together with anxiety.

Still bracing himself against the building on his left hand planted on top of the door he said, “Enough with the formalities doc. I am in need for some, uh, assistance, you see.” It was then that the doctor noticed the Joker’s breathing. It was shallow and rather fast. Like he couldn’t catch his breath but was trying to. Oh shit, what does he mean by that. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice his labored breathing until now. She supposed being paralyzed with fear would do that to a person. Nora watched as the Joker then lifted the flap of his coat from his right side, revealing a two inch wide piece of glass sticking out from between his ribs. There was blood trailing from it, down his green vest. She gasped. He dropped the fabric and grabbed her by the chin, jerking her head so her eyes met his yet again.

“So, my little doctor, youuu are going to provide said assistance-ah,” he growled. Nora’s eyes grew even wider.

“Wait wait, what? No no I’m a veterinarian, I’m not a human doctor,” she said in a panicked voice. Yeah, nice one, Hawthorne.

“I can read, doc,” the Joker said, gesturing to the painted door that read Gotham City Veterinary Urgent Care. “I know you’ve got what I need in that pretty little head of yours.” He tried to stifle a gasping sound from his throat as he attempted to inhale before speaking again. “I am an animal after all aren’t I, hm?” he said, leaning his head forward and bouncing his eyebrows suggestively. Nora was stunned.

“Why me? Why did you come here for help?”

“Can’t quite go to the emergency room, can I doc? Besides, you take care of little doggies and kitties all day. Just think of meee as a lost little, uh, puppy,” he said, shifting his weight to put his knife-wielding right hand against the door on the other side of her head so Nora was trapped beneath him, their noses inches apart.

Fear bubbled its way up into her head again. She couldn’t think straight. How did Gotham’s most notorious criminal end up here, in front of her, with a life-threatening injury? It didn’t matter how, it only mattered that now it was happening. But, how could she justify helping the Joker? He caused so much death and destruction to this city, her city. She could do her best to fight, she might stand a chance against him in this weakened state. But he was the Joker. He’d probably still be able to slit her throat faster than she could get out from under him. He was the Joker but he also was a person. A person in what she was sure was a significant amount of pain. Another gasping sound made its way out of Joker’s mouth.

“Haven’t got all night, doc.”

Nora’s expression softened. What the fuck am I getting myself into?

“Ok,” she said, lifting her keys and turning to unlock the door.

[glassc0ffin]

Spreading

frankie has a haunted tattoo its pretty neat. another transcript fic

pairing: oc (frankie james)/jonathan sims

words: 2049

warnings: yearning

[CLICK]

FRANKIE JAMES:

Oh, I've missed that tape recorder. I still haven't got one, y'know.

ARCHIVIST:

There are some spares around somewhere, I could try and get one for you. I-If you wanted.

JAMES:

You'd do that? ...What if you get in trouble?

ARCHIVIST:

With what's going on around here, I doubt anyone would notice one missing tape recorder. But, I digress. What are you doing back here? I thought the voices had stopped.

JAMES:

Well… They did, after a while. Thanks for looking into that, by the way. I was a nervous wreck for a good while, there.

ARCHIVIST:

It was no problem. I'm glad you're doing at least a bit better.

[PAUSE]

You are doing better?

JAMES:

I mean, I thought I was. Up until –

ARCHIVIST:

Wait, I-I should –

JAMES:

Oh, yeah, go ahead.

ARCHIVIST:

Statement of Frankie James, radio DJ at Tranzishon Rock, London, regarding?

JAMES:

A tattoo I got recently.

ARCHIVIST:

Recorded direct from subject by Jonathan Sims, head archivist of The Magnus Institute, 5th of October, 2019. Statement begins.

[PAUSE]

A tattoo? Would you mind showing me?

JAMES:

I - Okay, it's a little… Complicated. A couple of days after I saw you the first time, I decided to treat myself, seeing as I felt like shit – Don't worry, I'll show you in a little bit, I just need to explain something first – and I texted my tattooist, Sarah, if she had any appointments soon. She said no, that she was booked up until Christmas, but that she had an apprentice in who could do something quick for me. And I thought, well, I trust Sarah, she wouldn't let some newbie who's never held a tattoo gun before into her studio. That, and I kind of wanted to be a learning experience. There's something about being a living canvas for someone that's a little appealing. 

ARCHIVIST:

[SIGHS] I'm not quite sure I relate, but go on.

JAMES:

She books me in for a session a couple of days later. I had my heart set on a space sleeve, with stars and planets and stuff, and a supernova exploding on my elbow. I had come into a little bit of money recently so instead of doing the responsible thing, like paying my rent, I wanted to spend a ridiculous amount of money on myself. I commissioned a friend to design the sleeve and went to Sarah's with it. 

ARCHIVIST:

It sounds beautiful.

JAMES:

[QUIETLY] I can think of something more beautiful.

ARCHIVIST:

Hmm?

JAMES:

I-Er, nothing, don't worry. [WHISPERED] Shit.

[PAUSE] So, yeah, the tattoo. The newbie, I learned his name was Jimmy, transferred it onto my arm and started work. Funnily enough, we got off on the same foot as you and I.

ARCHIVIST:

Really? How so?

JAMES:

Y'know how I was obsessing over your tape recorder because of how cute and vintage it is? He had an antique tattoo gun he was using on me, paddle-operated and everything, it was really cool! He was as enthusiastic about it as I was, he said that he got it from a fancy vintage place. I can't remember what it was called but he said the bloke running it was called...Salesa? I think? 

ARCHIVIST:

...I see.

JAMES:

Anyway, it hurt a lot more than I was expecting. I just put it down to the gun being old and that was just what people used to have to deal with. I remember thinking I hope that gun's passed some safety checks. I mean, it wasn't rusty or anything, but I didn't want it to just fall apart while it was still stabbing me and fuck up my tattoo. Wait, am I allowed to swear?

ARCHIVIST:

I-It's not against regulations, as such. I'm not going to tell you off, anyway.

JAMES:

Aw, thank you. I'm not really a bleeder when I get tattoos, I have enough now to know what to expect, but with this one, i-it was like I had anemia or something. Every half hour we had to stop so I could eat something or I'd feel like passing out. Eventually, after 3 hours, I hit my limit. I was getting light headed and kind of annoyed, so I told Jimmy I'd be back in a week or so to finish it off. It was only from my elbow and down to my wrist, he hadn't even started on my upper arm yet. 

After that, I went straight back home - I had moved back there since the voices had stopped by then, don't know why they did but I'm thankful anyway - and collapsed onto my bed clutching my arm. It was already hot and swollen, trying to heal already. There was some cling film put over it and bandages. I soaked right through them overnight and onto my bedsheets. The next morning I could barely extend my arm. It was twice the size of the other and just oozing yucky stuff. It probably wasn't the best idea for an open wound, but like everyone does when they have an open wound, I stuck it under the cold tap. It was only then, in the harsh light of my bathroom, that I saw my tattoo properly that morning. 

There was a planet in the blackness of inked space that wasn't there before. I'm sure of it. It's not even in the original design. It was ringed, like Saturn. I even tried rubbing it off my skin but that just made it bleed more. It was way too early in the morning for me to deal with that shit, so I just wrapped it in some new bandages and went out to get food. It was aching the whole time I was out, and when I rolled up my jacket sleeves I saw I had leaked through the bandage again, and through my shirt.

It hurt. It hurt so much. More than any of my other tattoos healing. But again, I just thought it was that old tattoo gun, and because I hadn't protested when Jimmy brought it out, it was my own fault. My own stupid fault that I'd probably have to get my arm amputated because I caught fucking gangrene off an antique tattoo gun. 

I just resigned myself to cleaning it again when I got home. In fact, I ran a bath. And as I took my shirt off I looked in the mirror, and the tattoo had gotten bigger. I swear. We had stopped at the elbow, I promise, but it was at least an inch higher than that before, all the way around my arm. In fact, the new area was sore to touch, as if it had just been tattooed on, where the area at my wrist had already started to scab.

And as another day passed, the tattoo grew, and I cleaned it. And another day. And another. And now I'm here. Again.

ARCHIVIST:

Statement ends. Will you show me? The tattoo I mean?

JAMES:

Ah, sure. [CLOTHES RUSTLING] There. Careful, that part only appeared this morning.

ARCHIVIST:

[GASPS] I-I see what you mean… Frankie, I-I don't think you - uh - needed to take your whole shirt off...Wait a minute.

JAMES:

What? What is it?

ARCHIVIST:

It's on your back as well, here…

JAMES:

[SHARP BREATH INTAKE]

ARCHIVIST:

Sorry! I didn't mean to poke you.

JAMES:

No - you didn't hurt me, it's just - your hands are so cold! [LAUGHS, NERVOUS]

ARCHIVIST:

Jesus...I-It's moving!

JAMES:

WHAT?

ARCHIVIST:

The - That planet is spinning! The stars, they're twinkling as well! 

JAMES:

FUCK, dude, WHAT?

ARCHIVIST:

Frankie, you can't go home like this. Your skin is raw, I don't know how you're dealing with this…

JAMES:

I'm not. Painkillers, mostly. I…try not to think about it. 

ARCHIVIST:

We have some medics here who can help you, we can keep an eye on you, on that tattoo. And track down the man who sold your friend that gun.

JAMES:

I, er, need some stuff from my flat.

ARCHIVIST:

[SOFTLY] If you'd like, I can come with you to help. I doubt you'd be able to lift much with your arm in that state. 

JAMES:

Thank you… Why are you doing this?

ARCHIVIST:

What do you mean?

JAMES:

Well, don't you have assistants and stuff to deal with this crap? You don't do this with every person who gives a statement, right?

ARCHIVIST:

You're right. I don't. [PAUSES] You're different.

JAMES:

I-I am?

ARCHIVIST:

Yes...You're the first person I've ever met who is evidence of their statement, living, breathing, evidence that you weren't lying. And if I'm being honest, it's fascinating. 

JAMES:

[NERVOUS LAUGHTER] Thanks, I think… Can I put my shirt back on now? 

ARCHIVIST:

Oh, yes, o-of course. I can turn around if you want.

JAMES:

What's the point? You've just seen my boobs, seeing them covered isn't really going to make a difference.

ARCHIVIST:

[UNDER HIS BREATH] Good lord. [COUGHS] Yes, quite. Oh, er, recording ends.

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST:

Are you feeling any better today?

JAMES:

Not really. Still hurts. Thanks for asking, though.

ARCHIVIST:

I’ll see about getting you some painkillers. Would you mind showing me how far it’s progressed? I need to get it recorded.

JAMES:

Yeah, just… Gimme a second. It’s a little hard to move my arm now.

ARCHIVIST:

I can help. I-If you want.

JAMES:

...Yeah. Yeah, okay. [CLOTHES RUSTLING] Ow!

ARCHIVIST:

Sorry! Sorry. Was that part new?

JAMES:

I think so. It’s all a bit sore.

ARCHIVIST:

Yes, I can see. Your skin is red around the edges of the thing. Hold on, let me put some gloves on. [STRETCHY ELASTIC NOISES]

JAMES:

So you want me to bend over and cough, doc?

ARCHIVIST:

[SNORTS] Stop, I need to be delicate. I can’t do that if you’re giving me the giggles. Oh, let me - [COUGHS] Supplement of Statement #421904, recorded on the 6th of October, 2019, examining the tattoo of Frankie James, given to him from a gun sold by Mikaele Salesa. Statement begins.

JAMES:

Your hands are still deathly cold.

ARCHIVIST:

Sorry about that. Tattoo originally started at the wrist of the subject, and ended at the elbow. Today, approximately one week after the initial application, it has extended over the subjects hand, up his arm, and is currently spilling onto his chest and back. The tattoo is of a galaxy, with a number of planets and stars dotted about. On the subject’s elbow is a supernova exploding.

JAMES:

That part hurt the most.

ARCHIVIST:

I can imagine. Originally, the tattoo only had four planets and six stars, all located on the forearm, but as of today, the number has increased to eight planets and [COUNTING UNDER HIS BREATH] fifteen stars. It also appears to...move...at times, the stars seem to twinkle, and the planets spin on their axis. [BREATHES OUT] Very unusual.

JAMES:

That’s an understatement.

ARCHIVIST:

I’m just going to take some photos, if that’s alright?

JAMES:

Yeah, just get my good side.

ARCHIVIST:

[LAUGHS] You don’t have a bad side. [PAUSE] [CAMERA SHUTTERS 5 TIMES] There. That should be all I need for now. You can pop your shirt back on.

JAMES:

Can I just leave it off? It really hurts and having to peel it off again later to clean it will just hurt even more.

ARCHIVIST:

A-Alright. I’ll see you in a bit, Frankie.

JAMES:

Jon, wait.

ARCHIVIST:

Hmm? What’s wrong?

JAMES:

Nothing, I just… Thanks for helping me bring some stuff over here. You didn’t have to do that.

ARCHIVIST:

I wanted to help. Frankie, when you came in, you looked terrified. I was...very worried for you.

JAMES:

[NERVOUS LAUGHTER] Shit, I thought I was hiding it better. Okay, but, surely everyone that comes in to give a statement is going to be bricking it?

ARCHIVIST:

Well, like I said before, you’re fascinating. [PAUSE] It! It’s fascinating, your tattoo, it’s -

JAMES:

[SNORTS]

ARCHIVIST:

Not to say that you’re not fascinating, I-I- [SIGHS] I should leave, before I make an even bigger fool of myself.

JAMES:

Bye, Jon. You’re not too bad, yourself.

ARCHIVIST:

R-Right. Thanks. Goodbye.

JAMES:

Jon, wait! [PAUSE] And there he goes. I guess I’ll end this myself, then. Shit, I hope I don’t break it somehow. Erm, statement ends?

[erintoknow]

Chickadee

second half to the previously posted ‘you’ll never get out’ which was running wild with a crazy fan theory;

fallen hero: rebirth fanfic, just as spoilery, ~2.5k worlds

------

When you wake up, you find a blanket draped over your shoulders. The sound of coffee brewing coming from the kitchenette. You freeze. Where are you? A couch, there’s a coffee table, a TV is playing some show. When did you fall asleep? The events of last night start to slowly trickle back to you in reverse order. Crying, shaking, showing up at Chelsea’s apartment, the two hour long walk in the dead of night, ducking shadows, avoiding curious minds.

The noise, the shouts, the blood, the gun in your hand.

Bang.

Bang.

A wave of nausea washes over you, and you want to believe it’s just the withdrawal.

As you shift up, you hear Chelsea call to you. “You want something to eat, chickadee?”

“What’s a chickadee?” You rub the sand out of your eyes. Hands shaking.

Chelsea sighs. “It’s a very tiny bird what lacks the sense God gave all her creatures to stay away from men.”

You get the sense she’s not talking about the bird.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your clothes, they’re drying on the shower door. Can’t say that’s a skillset I expected to need again when I moved here.”

Alarmed you glance down at yourself. The shirt your wearing isn’t the one you had on yesterday. Your heart lurches in your chest.

Chelsea approaches with two plates of pancakes, and sees the expression on your face. “Hey, hey it’s okay.”

“When did I–?” You pull at the shirt.

“You changed right before falling asleep? Spent forever in the bathroom.” 

You relax a little at that, images coming back as she says it. You’re safe, for the immediate moment.

You realize you’ve got a grimace on your face and attempt to twist it into a smile, take a plate and plasticware Chelsea offers. “Th-thanks.”

Chelsea sits down on the couch next to you, her own plate in hand. “How are you feeling?”

The question seems to be sincere, and a million different possible answers run through your head. It takes a minute for you to settle on one, “Dizzy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrink into the couch. “No.”

“Okay.”

The television snaps away from the soap opera that had been playing to a man in a starched grey suite. Breaking news. Beloved pillar of community found dead. You tighten your grip on the fork in your hand. In the next apartment over someone curses out their child after stepping on a toy.

Chelsea frowns, and is that your anxiety or hers?. She snatches the remote from the coffee table and turns the tv off. “Maybe we’ve had enough of that kind of talk for awhile.”

You glance up at her, there’s some connection she’s made, but you don’t want to know what it is. You don’t want to know what she’s thinking. Don’t need to know. Huh. Either you can trust her, or you can’t and in that case there’s nothing else you can do at this point. Realize you’ve been holding a plate of pancakes, and set it down on the coffee table to pick at it with your fork.

You can feel her looking at you, that she wants to ask you more about last night.

It’s nice, how she doesn’t ask. Just lets the two of you sit in silence. You push the pancake around on the plate, low-key nausea overriding any desire to eat you might have been able to muster up. 

What do you do now? Are they more likely to find you if you stay put or if you try to run? What the hell even happened last night?

Wait.

The man you shot, your handler… what happened to the woman? Who was she? Is she still alive? What did she want you for?

Panic wells up inside you and you drop the fork and clutch yourself. There’s this awful noise and you realize it’s you. You’re retching and – hands at your shoulders, Chelsea pulls you into the bathroom and you collapse in front of the toilet, retching up what little you had eaten in a stream of stomach bile. Your vision is blurry and you can feel the acid burning in your nose as you fall back on your knees.

“Hey, here.” Fear and worry running through your head as you hand Alex –you flinch– as Chelsea hands you a washcloth to wipe your face with. She crouches down next to you, hand on your back. She’s done this before, too many times.

And you? You don’t know what to do. You need somebody to tell you what to do. Why did you ever think you could do this? Just… You flinch as the woman in the next door apartment cuts herself chopping carrots.

“What have you been taking?” Chelsea asks, her voice low. A dozen possibilities running through her head. You can’t focus well enough to pick out any of them.

You rub your arm, “I– I don’t– I don’t know.” It’s as an honest answer as you can give.

“This… man,” Chelsea says the word with disdain, “the one that was supposed to be getting you more of… whatever it was, he didn’t say?”

“…no.” What did you tell her? You can’t remember.  It’s a strain to focus in on her against the background buzz of chittering thoughts around you. But you need to know what she’s thinking, what you told her.  You chase the the line and: the blood, the bruises– “No!” You shake your head, “It’s not like that!”

That gets a spike of alarm from Chelsea. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not– they didn’t–“ You dig your fingernails into your legs. “It was just a– just a job.”

“A job.” She doesn’t believe you, even as she’s on the floor next to you, hand rubbing your back. She’s right not to, but you desperately wish she would.

“My– my, my, my partner, the guy who was going to uh, pay me–except… things went bad.”

“Alex… this is important, so please answer me.”

You tense up.

“Did someone… touch you last night?”

“No!”

“Okay…” Chelsea doesn’t relax. You already know the next question she’s going to ask. “Alex… did you… kill someone last night?”

You can’t trust yourself to talk, just nod. The blossoming lance of fear as the man crumpled to the ground shoots through you. You may not be rated for wetwork, still, it doesn’t usually affect you this badly. Is it the withdrawal? What’s you and what’s drugs? You’ve never thought about that before.

Chelsea sucks in her breath. “Okay. Okay.” She gets up and grabs you old clothes off the shower stall. “These are getting burned, then. You can keep my shirt, at least until you find something more your size. You didn’t have a gun with you when you got here, did you leave it there?”

“I… I can’t remember.” 

There’s a pained sigh from Chelsea. “I won’t sugar-coat it, Alex. I’m pretty fucking pissed to be dragged into this. But like hell am I going to throw a homeless kid back out on the street, or–“ She throws up her arms, “–I don’t know, turn her over to the goon squad this city calls a police force.” Under her breath she mutters the word ‘pigs’ like it’s an epithet.

“Why are you–?”

“Would it be easier to understand if I make it selfish?” She doesn’t wait for you to answer, you can feel her own nervous energy fill the room. “Maybe I’m just wishing someone had done the same for me?” There’s a bitter laugh, “Or maybe just fuck the government. Should have known I’d be too gay to go straight. Look, you can stay with me awhile, I’d rather keep a close eye on your withdrawal. Maybe I can dig up a doc off-the-books who’ll look at you.”

“I can’t–”

There’s running water and then a paper cup being handed to you as she pulls you up. “Com’on, chickadee, rinse your mouth out and clean yourself up. I’m going to see if I’ve got any ginger ale left.”

It turns out there is.

It turns out you need a lot of ginger ale over the next few months.

You’re not sure when you started getting better. Just that, one day, you wake up on the couch and you can tune out the background thoughts again. If anything, it feels easier to do then before this all happened. Wrap one of the songs from Chelsea’s tape collection around your head, and you can feel more yourself then you might ever have in your life. You know you ought to split ways with Chelsea, that hanging around her place so much is dangerous, for both of you. But she keeps finding new things you could do to help her out. Fixing appliances, furniture, running errands. You don’t mind, you owe her.

Also, you have to admit, sleeping on a couch is better than a subway station or an abandoned house.

Sometimes the craving gets it’s hooks back in you, prying you apart again. It’s Chelsea’s idea to try transferring the desire to something harmless, like candy. It’s not a perfect solution, but it lets you feel less powerless. Sometimes, when you’re lucky, the sheer mechanical action of unwrapping a bar or opening a bag is enough to trick your brain into settling down.

There’s a lot of little behaviors you start adopting in order to feel more in control. Shaving every morning, and not just face but arms, legs, whatever you feel like that day. One evening you shoplift some makeup and nail polish and pressure Chelsea to show you the basics. This is your body. It answers to you, not the other way around, and you’ll do what you want with it. 

As far as you can tell, no one ever comes snooping around. No one comes to try and take you back. It turns out the Marshal of the Rangers, the government sponsored team of heroes for the city died the same night. That, you have to imagine, must be taking priority over some random shooting out in the abandoned slum.

Sometimes you have nightmares that the Marshal is the man you shot, but that’s all they are, nightmares. What would someone that important be doing there? There’s no way you could have hurt someone that powerful. It’s not possible. It can’t be. Still, you keep the thought to yourself.

The hope that you might really truly be free this time is its own kind of frightening. Keeping a steady job is a challenge with no paperwork and an allergy to cameras and recording equipment, but you’ve at least been able to do enough to keep from being a drain on Chelsea.

Lately, when you haven’t been running errands, you’ve been messing with a bass guitar you ‘rescued’ from the trash, trying to get it working again. Not that you have a speaker to test it with. It’s mostly cover for practicing your voice. No one in the park thinks twice about the weird hippie kid struggling to hit the high notes. 

And then there’s the other project. One you’ve been reluctant to talk to Chelsea about. You have to address it eventually though, and today feels as good a day as any.

Chelsea’s job has odd hours, but this evening she’s home right at six on the dot. You’re still not sure what her job is. It’s something she has mixed feelings about, you know that much, and she won’t discuss it with you. After everything that’s happened, respecting her privacy seems like the literal least you could do.

She plops down on the other end of the couch from you, a bottle of beer in her hand. You eye it. “What’s that?”

“The cheapest beer in Los Diablos.”

“…can I try it?”

“How are old are you, chickadee?”

You have to think about that one. “…twenty-one?” 

A small smirk, “Uh-huh. sure,” she says, not buying it. She then hands the bottle over to you anyway. “You won’t like it.”

She’s right. You sputter as soon as it touches your mouth and hand the bottle back to her. “Ugh! That’s gross.”

She raises the bottle, “That’s the idea,” she says before taking a long drink. She winces and shakes her head when done. “Probably put rats in it or something.”

You pick up your own glass from the table. You’ll stick with soda. After a sip to wash the beer out of your mouth, you decide to test the water. “Um, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you…” You stare at your glass, watching Chelsea from the corner of your eye.

“What’s up?” She turns to focus her attention on you, mind a frustrating blank. She’s been getting better at that lately, and you haven’t figured out how to ask if she knows you’re a telepath without giving away the game.

“Did you hear about fight at the Glendale street market?”

“Yeah, some k-“ Chelsea stops and narrows her eyes, staring your down. “That was you, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah.”

“You seriously knocked out a dude with armored skin?”

“Y-yeah.”

Chelsea shoulders’ sag as she sighs. “You’re killing me smalls.”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping a low profile?”

You blanche, “It’s been ages. And– and–” You run a finger over your thigh, tracing patterns. “I can’t just… stand by when something like that happens.”

“God.” Chelsea looks away from you, you don’t need to read her mind to know she’s upset with you.

“I’ve been saving up money, I’ve got this whole design planned out for a skinsuit and I–”

“Sweetheart, I admire your desire to step up, even after everything you’ve been through. That’s something truly amazing.” Chelsea turns back to look at you and you feel yourself wither under the intensity of it. “But there are plenty of less reckless and frankly, less stupid, things you could do that would be just as worthwhile.”

You exhale, inhale, exhale again. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. A mask means you don’t have to prove your identity, don’t have to worry about your face getting back to the directive. Maybe even, and this seems like a long shot, but if you got famous enough, or associated with someone famous, like the Rangers, that in itself could protect you? You’re intimately aware with how much easier it is to make nobodies disappear.

Plus, and this scares you a little to think about. As long as you were approaching it on your terms, fighting was fun. A fast-action puzzle game of finding the right move and out-thinking your opponent. Each time you succeeded the nightmare felt a little less insurmountable.

You can’t say that though, can’t speak it aloud. Instead you say,“you’re the one that kept encouraging me to find something to do with my life.”

“Because I didn’t want you freeloading around my apartment forever.” Chelsea fires back. That’s pretty much a lie and you both know it. “Look, I’m not your mother, you can make your own decisions.”

You dig your nails into your leg. “I’m sorry. I feel like I need to do this.” This is your way out. Your chance to be real person, to prove your worth to them on your own terms. To… make up for whatever is you may or may not have done.

Chelsea sighs and drains the rest of her beer. “Just… be careful, okay, Chickadee?”

“Y-yeah. Of course.” You lie.

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #394

"Zly Checks In, Grocery Shopping, Cn Kidnapped, The Firebird and the Sphinx”

[Zly Wilk] - makes his way back to the path he was on before meeting up with Lazur. They make their way to the general direction of the bar, passing near Lie and CP's place.

[Aether] Is crying because CP briefly put her down-

[CP] - It's okay, I'm just getting you some fresh clothes

[Zly Wilk] - hears Aether as they get close - Oh, that's right, Lie had her and CP's baby.

[Lazur] -looks uneasily at the house - Uh... good for them?

[CP] - Come on kiddo, don't cry.  Do you wanna go see the dogs?  Let's go see the dogs- He starts carrying Aether towards the door as he also works on getting her dressed

[Zly Wilk] Oh, come on... we should stop in and offer our congratulations to the new family.

[Lazur] -unsure noises-

[CP] Steps outside and watches his daughter fuss at the sunlight- You're fine, it's just a little light

[Zly Wilk] - Walks up but keeps a respectful distance - Hey, CP.

[CP] - What?- He's heading for the dog pen

[Zly Wilk] Just passing by,  wanted to congratulate you and Lie and meet the new addition.

[CP] Turns so they can see Aether better- Yeah, she's arrived alright, and is being fussy right now

[Zly Wilk] -smiles- Awww... she's adorable.  Babies can be a handful, even when they don't have powers.  

[Lazur] - is standing back slightly with a polite smile trying to hide her 'I'd-rather-be-anywhere-but-here' feelings.

[CP] - She can already set herself on fire

-The wolves are crowding the fence to sniff at Aether-

[Blake] Follows Cp out of the house and gives the newcomers a decisive - Urf.

[Zly Wilk] so I've heard. Well at least the flames aren't setting anything else ablaze... yet. - he moves his gauntleted hand around so that the light makes the gem on the back and the gold sparkle but doesn't shine on the baby

[Aether] Was reaching for Blake but gets distracted by the shiny-

[CP] - So where have you been hiding as of late?

[Zly Wilk] we built a little place in one of the wooded biomes.  Been farming, growing those glowing apples doc and Yaunfen and I created.  Been rather relaxing.... -sly look- took up making alcohol too... everyone needs a hobby.

[CP] - Alcohol, that's a good idea

[Aether] Stretches towards Zly-

[CP] - What are you doing you little silly?

[Zly Wilk] -chuckles and lets Aether grab onto his gauntlet hand's fingers - yeah, I've been working on a hard cider just for Brines... with a little more kick than a Steve could handle.

[CP] - Doubt it would do much for me, but for Lie?  Would probably make her drunk

[Zly Wilk] - produces 3 differently shaped and clearly marked bottles from his inventory-  feel free to try them yourself sometime. Let me know how it goes.

The skull shaped bottle with the white eyes is the Brine Cider, the one that looks like an apple is a little less potent, but still alcoholic, and the baby bottle shape is just regular apple juice from the native apples... in case you needed something for the baby.

[CP] - Well we are starting to introduce her to new foods, I'll have TLOT make copies when he comes back

[Aether] Tries to put Zly's fingers in her mouth-

[Zly Wilk] - keeps his fingers just out of reach - I don't think those fingers would taste very good, little lady.  -at CP- Just be careful with the skull bottle. I have a slight immunity to its effects and I was still knocked out for a couple days testing that batch.

[Lazur] -crossly- I thought he was dead, the jerk,except he never despawned....

[CP] - I can handle most alcohols, so we'll see- He shifts Aether so she can't reach the gauntlet anymore

[Aether] Fusses-

[Zly Wilk] well, we're off to the bar. Going to unload some of the mild and non alcoholic stuff on Sam if they want it for the collection.  Tell Lie we said congratulations as well if we don't see her.

[CP] - When she comes back from irl I will

[Zly Wilk] - waves at Aether - bye bye, little one.

[Lazur] - already fast walking away -

[Zly Wilk] - catches up - What was that about?

[Lazur] ....What was what?

[Zly Wilk] -gives a look-

[Lazur] Ok...ok.... I don't like kids, ok?  Not. My. Thing.

[Zly Wilk] Ok! Ok! Forget I asked.

[CP] Calms Aether down and heads back inside with Blake following.  He puts Aether in her crib and watches Blake lay  down in front of the crib as she falls asleep- Sleep well my precious little girl

[Lie] Has a decent selection of fruits and veggies in her cart for the server as they head for the meat department-

[Doc] Is just eyeballing everything. - This is all so much....

[Lie] - I know, and I guess you're not used to seeing so many cuts of meat...

[Doc] Not really no... I kinda skipped this when I went out with Cp. He's always in such a hurry.

[Lie] - Well, out here you get different bits of meat from different parts of the animal- She points to a chart on the wall behind the counter showing where each part comes from

[Doc] Pokes a package. - It's the sheer amount of plastic that unsettles me.

[Lie] - Well the plastic does help keep the meat from contaminating stuff

[Doc] I understand... but I still hate it.

[Lie] - I know- She moves a little farther down to the bacon section- Hey, here's something you and Deer might like- She holds up a red box with a black label with bacon inside

[Doc] More bacon?

[Lie] - A specific type, maple bacon

[Doc] I don't know what maple is? I presume it's just flavored differently?

[Lie] - Maple is...  It's similar to touchie syrup, but it comes from tree's

[Doc] Oh, okay? I'll try it. - They take the package and glance to one side. - That's odd. What's wrong with these eggs? Are they dirty?

[Lie] - You mean the brown ones?  No, that's how some eggs are.  Egg's can come in a variety of shapes and colors

[Doc] Puts them in the cart - Hmmm.... Can you think of anything else?

[Lie] - Well, we still need to get something sweet for Yaunfen, and maybe some cereal for Aether

[Doc] I was hoping for suggestions, you lead, I'll follow. What else is there out here that's sweet that we don't have?

[Lie] Leads the way to the cereal aisle and to where the brightly colored boxes are- Let's see here...

[Doc] Geeze... these characters look rather crazy. Everyone is super excited to eat whatever is pictured. Do these things have energy boost effects???

[Lie] - Er…  In a sense?  They're packed with sugar.  The characters are mostly to attract children...  Fair warning, there are plastic bags inside of the boxes just to keep the cereal fresh- She picks up a box of honey nut cheerios

[Doc] Frowns- I'm sure I'm going to have to take out the trash once I unwrap all this other stuff anyway. -hir fingers graze several brightly colored boxes.

[Lie] - Take your pick Doc, they're all equally sugary

[Doc] Settles on a box of Froot Loops. - I like the rainbow one. And if it's sweet, Yaunfen will most likely love it too.

[Lie] - Usually you eat these with milk for breakfast- She spots some baby puffs and grabs an apple flavored one of those

[Doc] Milk we have plenty of thankfully.

[Lie] - Exactly, shall we check out?

[Doc] Absolutely.

[Lie] Heads for the check out and spots an open self check out and goes there-

[Doc] Gives the plastic bags a dirty look. - Don't get any. We'll take the cart out and I'll carry the stuff myself.

[Lie] - Okay, we still have to put the stuff in the bagging area though- She moves pretty smoothly as she scans things until it's time to pay- Your turn

[Doc] Pulls out hir card and blazes through the small menu. - Getting better... These are really simple little computers.

[Lie] - Yup, it doesn't take very long to learn them, but some people who can't read signs still have difficulties

[Doc] I believe it. - They take the handle of the cart and push it towrds the door.  - So how are you feeling Lie? Physically or otherwise?

[Lie] - Fine, other than exhausted and sexually frustrated

[Doc] Oh dear... I know you hate TLOT's coffee. Should I be working on something that won't set off your allergies? I also know you don't want my help with the other issue.

[Lie] - I think I'll be better once Aether is on an actual sleep schedule

[Doc] So... maybe something for her? How do you relax a baby so they'll sleep better? - Xe pushes the cart around the side of the building and bends over it to start putting things in their inventory.

[Lie] - I don't even know

[Doc] Maybe a noise she likes?

[Lie] - She does get sleepy when I sing to her...

[Doc] I could make you a record for a jukebox? - They're just putting the last few things away.

[Lie] - Maybe, but I think it's about time to head home

[Doc] Agreed. I need to finish this little update. Hopefully I won't get beat up when I'm done. It's a fix for some of the water physics errors and might break a few small things.

[Lie] - I'm sure you'll have plenty of help fixing it.  It's a clean copy from the office, right?

[Doc] Yes, thankfully. - They use some nearby electronics to make a hole and hop through before reaching back for her.

[Lie] Takes Doc's hand and follows-

[Doc] Closes it behind them and they're back on Lie's lawn. -I hope we didn't miss anything important.

[Lie] - I wouldn't hope so- She heads for the front door of her house

[Doc] Just show me where you want your part of the stuff.

[Lie] - Right, we've got a spare chest set up just for Aether's food so we won't be scrambling to find it- She let's Doc in and finds CP in the main room- Hey, where's Aether?

[CP] - Sleeping, everything go okay?

[Lie] - Yeah, everything went smoothly

[Doc] We got lots of new stuff. - They sit down on a block and start ripping open packages and transfering food into normal Minecraft containers before making copies and trunking them.

[Lie] - I'm going to check on Aether real quick

[CP] - Alright, just don't trip on Blake, he was right in front of the crib when I left them

[Blake] Is in the crib with Aether and curled around her protectively.

[Lie] Heads for the room and opens the door quietly, upon seeing the predicament she quickly pulls out her phone and starts recording- Blake?  What are you doing?

[Blake] Opens one eye to regard her and parts his jaws ever so slightly to let out a very quiet 'boof'.

[Lie] - Blake...  You don't belong in the crib

[Blake] Rrrrrrrrr.......

[Lie] - Don't give me that, that space is too small for you

[Blake] Curls up around Aether a bit more and gives her a defiant look.

[Lie] - Oh my god...  You are being ridiculous...

[Blake] Huffs-

[Lie] - Alright, alright, just make sure she stays safe and warm

[Blake] Eyebrow - Since he is extremely fuzzy. Being a wolf and all.

[Lie] Stops recording and heads back to the other two, laughing to herself-

[Doc] Has a little pile of plastic, cardboard and styrofoam nonsense at their feet. - I split the eggs and bacon with you too. That cereal is.... really fragrant.

[Lie] - Yeah, it can be.  Hey Doc?  Do you mind sending something to Dawn's computer for me?

[Doc] Sure, what is it?

[Lie] - A video I just took, feel free to watch it yourself

[CP] - Just wanting to update Dawn or?

[Lie] - Go look at our child CP

[Doc] Takes the phone curiously and watches the clip before laughing quite hard. - Well Dawn did say he was clingy....

[Lie] - I think Aether has her first friend

[Doc] Sends it to Dawn with a smile. - A kid needs a pet anyway. And he'll help keep her safe.

[Lie] - Oh absolutely

[CP] Teleports into the bedroom and back- Really?  I'm not even sure how he got in there without knocking the crib over

[Doc] You should see some of the places Waffles gets into. Lh too, but I kinda wonder if he can no-clip sometimes because of his glitch.

[CP] Groans a little-

[Lie] - Let me know what Dawn's response is to the video, I don't think she has my number

[Doc] I will. - They gather up the garbage and start aggressively melting the pixels into a single block-shaped glob.

[Lie] - Need  any help with that Doc?

[Doc] No... just compacting it so none of the bits stray off. I can't think of any way to use it so I'll just take it out when I'm finished with my work.

[Lie] - Okay

[CP] - I think it's time for us to take a nap...

[Lie] - That does sound good...

[Doc] Yeah, I have coding to do anyway. You guys enjoy. - They start heading outside-

[Lie] - Thanks for going out with me Doc

[Doc] Anytime Lie. - They head down the steps into the rosy late afternoon and ride Gir back to the castle.

[Yaunfen] Has dozed off with their head on the kitchen table-

[Waffles] Is laying on the counter, covering most of it. Their giant paws and stump of a tail twitching a bit as they dream.

[Deer] Is cleaning up some dishes, humming softly to herself-

[Waffles] Rolls over to open a sleepy eye and give her wrist a little lick.

[Deer] - Good kitty Waffles- She gives them a little ear ruffle

[Waffles] Happy - Mow.

[Doc] Comes downstairs witha little click of metal on stone. They see Yaunfen tuckered out and speak to Deerheart quietly. - It's Fru isn't it? TLOT and Steve and even Stevie went out to get more iron.

[Deer] - Yeah, I'm not sure what we're going to do about them...

[Doc] Block them in until they can be tamed. Our friends are all over it.

[Deer] Gives Doc a quick kiss on the cheek- Come on, let's get our little one to bed

[Doc] In a minute, I brought food. I want to put it away. My inventory is super full. - They start unloading and the heavy sweet smell of the froot cereal fills the room as it's moved into the trunk.

[Yaunfen] Sniffs curiously in their sleep-

[Deer] - That's a lot of stuff

[Waffles] Sniffs one of the purple carrots and makes a face at it.

[Doc] No sense in wasting a trip right? - They show her one of the brown eggs and the dragon fruit. - Weird stuff.

[Deer] - Lie's world is certainly filled with curiousities

[Yaunfen] Rubs their eyes sleeply- Mom? Mada?

[Waffles] Hops down and streches.

[Deer] - Yes sweetheart?

[Yaunfen] I smell something weird.

[Doc] I brought you some cer-ea-l. You can have it for breakfast if you want.

[Deer] - It's from the real world

[Yaunfen] Oh, that sounds nice- Yawns-

[Doc] You should go strech out in your room. You're gonna get a cramp snoozing on the table.

[Yaunfen] Sudden start- Fru???

[Deer] - Sleeping

[Yaunfen] Oh.. good. -They get up and shuffle towards the stairs. - Goodnight mom, mada...

[Deer] - Good night

[Doc] Poor kiddo...

[Deer] - They're so worn out...

[Doc] I know the feeling. Randomly destructive responsibilities can really wear you down. - Thinking of Cp...

[Deer] - We should get some sleep too- She takes Doc's hand

[Doc] I want too, but I need to do the little update. I'll join you soon, just go to bed my love.

[Deer] - Alright- She kisses Doc's hand and leaves for the bedroom

[CN] He is sitting curled up in Firebirds lap, having listened to his elder explain calmly and patiently what had happened before.  The small NOTCH fiddles his fingers a bit as he works up the nerve to ask a question-

[Firebird] -Can tell CN wants to ask something and waits patiently for him to get the courage to do so-

[CN] - Um...  Firebird?  Could you...  Um...  Could you maybe...  Show me?

[Firebird] I... -He purses his lips- If.. you want me to, CN. I suppose so...

[CN] - Please?  I just...  I just can't wrap my head around the destruction you say you've caused...

[Firebird] -Sighs a bit- If you're certain.. -Stands up and tucks CN under one arm. It's actually kind of comical looking-

[CN] - Um, we should probably let Lie know we're leaving...

[Firebird] I know, I needed an available hand.

-In chat- [Firebird] I'm going out for a bit with CN, Lie.

[Lie] Sleepily- Just make sure he comes back safe, I trust you Firebird

[Firebird] Well that's handled... -There's a bit of a ripple as he opens a way, and in no time at all they're stepping into another seed. The point is grand ruins, overgrown with vines.-

[Firebird] Hm... Time's really taken it's toll here... -Sets CN down-

[CN] Looks around at the ruins- Is there anybody even around here anymore?

[Firebird] In this old place? I doubt it. You're free to look around, if you'd like. -He steps carefully to the doors at the end of the hall, regarding a painting on the wall with a frown. He shakes his head and pushes the door open to step out-

-The place seems to have been some kind of altar or similar, and if you judge the motifs around the building... probably to Firebird himself.-

[CN] Follows Firebird, distracted by the images around him- What was this place?

[Firebird] One of my last temples.

[CN] - Why'd you destroy your own temple?

[Firebird] I'd come to my senses around then and.. I didn't want to see this wretched place again. -He's looking out at the horizon and a single tower in the far distance that stretches toward the sky-

[CN] - But you were still blue?

[Firebird] Yes... It took a long time for the color to fade. Lets see.. If Teran is that way.... -Steps out onto the ruined steps to stalk around to the side of the building and look for another tower- It took me a long, long time to change. And an even longer time for my colors to change.

[CN] - But last time they started going blue, you just pulled them out!

[Firebird] Not the best way to deal with it, but it worked. There... Let's go. -He transforms into a bird and waits for CN to do so too before taking off into the air-

[CN] Shifts and flaps up into the air-

[Firebird] -Guides him along past a few ruined husks of villages-

[CN] Would remark on their saddened state if he could in this form, noting the absolute lack of life-

[Firebird] -Flaps hard into an updraft, and soars over a hill, and an expansive, ruined city comes into view in the distance. A broken tower is visible in the center of it-

[CN] Is not prepared for the updraft and tumbles through the air a little-

[Firebird] -Swings around to flick a wing under CN to make it easier on him-

[CN] Rebalances himself and soars alongside Firebird, looking down at the ruins, wondering if any life remains at all-

-There are ruined buildings, vines covering everything, and--- Is that a villager? Surely not. It was probably CN's imagination. The most damage is in the city's center, near the tower. Firebird alights to land near the thing-

[CN] Follows suit and shifts back- Whoa...  It's still so big!  Even though it's ruined!

[Firebird] -Stays as a bird for a few minutes before shifting back too- I believe this was the biggest city back then, beside any current ones...

[CN] - Cool!

-Once again, CN thinks he sees a villager in the distant ruins, but they're gone before he can blink.-

[Firebird] I.. suppose so. I never thought of it much.

[Firebird] -Rests hand on the ruined tower, and the stones flicker golden and then blue, he quickly retracts his hand with a frown- It was just a place, back then.

[CN] - And now?

[Firebird] Now It's not much of anything.

[CN] - Oh...- He wanders a little to look through broken windows inside of the abandoned homes

- There's a rustle behind Firebird-

[Firebird] -Starts after CN only to pause, head turning to look behind him.-

[CN] Turns to look at Firebird only to get pulled through the window behind him as Firebird is looking away-

[Firebird] -Doesn't see anything so he turns back only to find CN missing- CN? CN?!

[CN] Struggles as he's pulled father away from Firebird- Hey! Let me go!

[Firebird] -Hackles rise a bit as he rushes toward where he heard CN from-

[Villagers] -Frantically pulling CN further through the building-

[CN] - What are you doing? Stop!

[Villager] - I think the better question is what you are doing with Ra foolish child

-There's a bit of panicked yelling from Firebird outside as he's deterred by villagers brandishing spears. CN can just barely make out "Move! Don't make me hurt you!"-

-It makes the Villagers inside hurry CN out the back entrance and into another ruined street-

[CN] - Wait! Where are you taking me!?

[Villager 2] Away from here! Away from HIM!

[CN] - But he's my friend!

[Villager 3] Friend?! As if that monster could have such a thing. A toy, maybe, but friend?

[CN] - Yes! He... He's taught me to read and write! And... And a bunch of other stuff!

[Villager] - Quiet! You'll make it easier for him to follow us!

[CN] - No!

[Villager 2] -Digs around to try and find an available cloth to cram in CN's mouth to shut him up-

-Firebird's yelling is growing incoherent, but louder-

[Villager 3] Be glad he hasn't taught you to kill and maim, child.

[CN] Struggles as hard as he can- Firebird! FIREBIRD!

-He can't lose him like this. He can't lose him like this. He shouldn't hurt them.-

-He can't lose CN like this.-

[Firebird] Forgive me, -Flames burst from the bird, knocking the villagers around him back in a wave of hot agony before he surges into the air-

-The Villagers are rushing between half crumbled buildings and mostly destroyed streets, starting to get headway from Firebird-

[CN] Tries punching and kicking, but he doesn't have the leverage he needs to do anything other than irritate- Let me go!

[Villager] - Stop that, he is already angry enough. He will likely hurt us

[Villager 3] Likely? We'll be lucky to live! -Hushed whisper as the bird goes zooming by overhead. Slaps hand over CN's mouth to keep him quiet-

[CN] Tries to pull his head away-

[Villager] - Stop that child! Or are you suicidal?

[Villager 2] - Ties cloth over CN's mouth once the other villager removes their hand. They're reaching the cities edge now, and the desert beyond.-

[CN] Makes a face and in a bit of desperation flares his tail a little-

[Villager] Hisses in a breath seeing the blue feathers-

[villager 3] What has Ra done to you child? Believing him a friend, bearing the colors of his true form...

[CN] Muffled response-

-They've managed to get out of the city into the desert, but they don't head far. A sandstone temple past the city limits that blends in with the sand seems to be where they're going. -

[CN] Struggles, trying to get at least a hand free from their grasp to remove the gag-

[Villager] - Stop that child!  We do not want HIS attention!

-Firebird doesn't seem to have realized that they escaped the city...-

[Villager 2] We're almost there...

[CN] Gets his arm free and starts pulling off the gag, ready to scream Firebirds name as loudly as he can-

[Villager] Turns around to grab his arm again- Stop that!  You'll end up killing us!

-The villagers rush into the temple with CN and shove the doors shut behind them. The temple is plain and a few villagers in the entranceway look at the group bewildered-

[CN] Looks around, scared and unsure-

[Villager] - Ra has returned...  He had this child with him

[Villager 4] Take the child to the Sphinx, let her judge him! If that child came with Ra... Who knows what's wrong with him... What that monster did to him.

[CN] Is confused over who the Sphinx is, Firebird never mentioned her to him-

[Villager] - You're right, she will be able to discern the truth

[Villager 4] She is in the tapestry room, last we saw of her.

[Villager] Starts dragging CN along- Then that is where we're going

-The other villagers that aren't necessary for this separate from the villager dragging CN along-

-They pass through a few other rooms before going down stairs into a room full of tapestries. At the end, staring up at the biggest one is... an actually familiar shape.-

[CN] His eyes widen in recognition as he notes the familiar shape-

[Villager] - Lady Sphinx?  I have brought someone for your judgement

[Sphinx] -She turns and, Oh yep. Just like Firebird had offhandedly mentioned, she is shirtless. CN has seen this lady in a few pictures Firebird showed him.- Oh? And why is that? -She stalks over and bends down to regard CN with a calm expression.- Why is he gagged?

[Villager] - Ra has returned and this child was with him, he kept screaming for him and drawing his attention towards us.  It was for the safety of the group

[Sphinx] Ah. Well, this far down he cannot hear us. -She removes the gag from CN- And what is your name, hm?

[CN] - Your the one Firebird said he always had to put a shirt on!

[Sphinx] -Taken aback- Wh. What?

[Sphinx] Who?

[CN] - Firebird!  He's the one you guys keep calling Ra, but that's not his name...

[Sphinx] -Purses her lips before giving a wave of her hand to dismiss the villager.- You say he calls himself Firebird now, hmm? What a... plain name.

[Villager] Hesitates but does leave-

[CN] Shrinks down a little, getting nervous again at being alone with Sphinx-

[Sphinx] At ease child, I am no risk to you. Come, tell me of him now. We haven't seen Ra in hundreds of years after his defeat, and if he has changed, I wish to know of him now. Of what he stands for, if he stands at all. -Coaxes CN further into the room and to two cushions by the large tapestry. They almost vanish into the tiles color wise.-

[CN] - I...  He's my friend, he's always nice!  He, he's taught me how to read, and write...

[Sphinx] And that is all? That is not much to be proud of.

[CN] - He...  He taught me how to fly!  And build nests too!

[Sphinx] To fly? Are you like him? -Her tail curls into her lap-

[CN] - Yes?- His tail feathers fluff a little

[Sphinx] … Interesting. But you only speak of what he's done for you. Not of how he is, child. Are you sure you even know him?

[Sphinx] He never even told you his true name, after all.

[CN] - He, he didn't want to scare me...  Flowey was the one who started telling me, all Firebird told me was that he had done a lot of bad things in the past...  And...  And my brine trusts him!  And so do the others!

[Sphinx] Or maybe he just didn't want you to know. Thought you too weak, child. Ra was a tricky one, after he changed. His ire could be drawn with but a word, at times.

[CN] - He's only turned a little blue once!  And that's when he was fighting DN, otherwise he hasn't gotten into any fights!

[Sphinx] Hm... -Her head turns to regard the big tapestry, of the bird himself, seemingly... falling down? The edges of his wings in the cloth are blue.- I see...

[CN] Fingers Firebirds feather amongst his bundle of feathers at his waist- He's not bad...  He's not a meanie

[Sphinx] Maybe not now, he isn't. But I have my doubts. You never told me your name, child.

[CN] - Uh...  C...  CN

[Sphinx] CN, huh...

[CN] - Can...  Can I go back now?  Firebird is probably wondering where I am...

[Sphinx] Hm...

-There's a distant.. boom.-

[CN] Immediately turns towards the noise-

[Villager] Comes running back in- Lady Sphinx!

[Sphinx] -Already getting to her feet- How far from the temple is he?

[Villager] - Not far at all

[CN] - Firebird?

[Sphinx] Well, we best go greet him, hmm?

[CN] Nods quickly-

-They go up the stairs, and several villagers with spears are rushing out the entryway, probably to deter Firebird, but judging by the increasing booms and the sudden heat.. you could assume it's not going too well.-

[CN] Tries running ahead-

[Villager] Grabs his arm- Are you insane!?  Stop!

[CN] - LET GO!

[Sphinx] Let him run to his "friend". See if he even recognizes him.

[Villager] Gives her an unsure look before letting CN go-

[CN] Bolts forwards, pushing his way through the weapon bearing villagers- Firebird!

-Firebird is blue, and also stamping a villager out of existence a mere 10 blocks from the temple. A ball of flame is cradled in his hand, and scattered about is the remains of others who had tried and failed to stop him.-

[CN] Runs right for him, grabbing his tunic- Firebird!  Please...  Stop...  I'm right here, I'm okay

[Firebird] -Comes to a halt as CN latches onto the front of his tunic, and the wild expression he'd been wearing previously comes to a more... expressionless look.- ...CN? -The ball of flame remains in his other hand, while the other one drops and slowly pats CN's shoulder-

[CN] - Please, it's okay... I'm okay...

[Firebird] -Looks up at the Villagers that are still bearing spears and pointing them at him- …. I was worried.

[Sphinx] -The villagers part for her easily, and as soon as she gets an eye on Firebird she purses her lips.- Interesting.

[CN] - They didn't know...  They didn't know you're okay now...  You're not a meanie

[Sphinx] Judging by the senseless murder, I'm less inclined to agree. How's it been, Ra? I see you finally decided to put a shirt on.

[Firebird] Oh shut your mouth, Sphinx. -The ball of flames is flung at her, to which she easily sidesteps- I should have you all beheaded for that, you know.

[Sphinx] I'm quivering in my nonexistent boots. The child says you've changed.

[CN] Presses closer to Firebird-

[Firebird] And what of it?! Do you want to try your luck next? -Slowly calming down as he rests both hands on CN's shoulders-

[CN] Is still trembling a little after everything he's gone through-

[Villager] Is watching with a critical eye- Lady Sphinx, what are your orders?

[Sphinx] I personally would like to see the so called change in attitude our once god has had.

[Villager] - And how would you plan on doing that our lady?

[CN] Is sniffling a little, feeling safe enough with Firebird to cry-

[Sphinx] -Ignores the Villager's simple question- So, where have you been? I can see you've sunk your claws into some poor child, for him to care so deeply about you. Mind control?

[Firebird] -Scoffs a bit and gently picks CN up, holding him to his chest- There is no mind control at play. You already know I have no abilities toward that, unlike Fl..... Set.  As for where I've been... Another seed.

[CN] - It's private...  Caused my spawn to end up in the void...

[Villager] Watches Firebird carefully, certain that he'll hurt the child in his arms-

[CN] Quietly- Firebird, I wanna go home...

[Firebird] In a moment CN, in a moment.

[Sphinx] If not mind control, what power does the child hold that compels you to care, hmm?

[CN] Snuggles in closer, hugging Firebird-

[Firebird] -Purses lips a bit- … None. He has nothing that would have compelled me to care, unlike you. No truth finding, no devouring of men, no ability to turn day to night, nothing. But that doesn't matter. Now. We're leaving. You'll be free of me again. -Turns on his heel with a heavy sigh-

[Sphinx] I think I'll join you, see if you've truly changed. Brother Horus can take care of the villagers. He should be returning soon, after all.

[CN] - You can't, the server has a white list.  You have to get Doc's approval

[Sphinx] Is that so? I don't believe that's quite true.

[Firebird] -Raises his other hand to open a way, a few villagers gasp-

[CN] Sticks his tongue out at Sphinx-

[Sphinx] I'll eat that tongue of yours, child. I'm not beyond devouring pesky children. They're so soft and chewy...

[Firebird] You touch him and I'll kill you myself.

[CN] - Lie would be mad too

[Sphinx] At least others care for you than this old mess.

-Firebird steps through back to the server and Sphinx follows-

[CN] Relaxes a little being safely home-

[Doc] Is already heading to the spawn in a huff- Can't get any fucking work done without some jackass stupidity---

[Firebird, still very much blue] Troubles, Doctor?

[Sphinx] Very bright, very colorful. Already quite promising...

[Doc] YES. Did I tell you it was okay to let a half-naked cat person in? No I did not!

[CN] - Told you!

[Doc] And you dyed your feathers? Having a spa day??? Is this some lady of the late evening?

[Firebird] -Opens mouth before shutting it a few times-

[CN] - Firebird got angry...

[Doc] sarcastic-  Brilliant.

[Firebird] -Clearly suppressing the initial response to bark out "I'd have you killed for that"- And what exactly crawled up your ass and died? Hmm?

[Doc] Indicates the shirtless person next to him-

[Sphinx] -Looking everywhere but Doc-

[Doc] Do I get an explanation? Or did you just adopt a cat?

[CN] - Her people kidnapped me!

[Firebird] Oh, so it's alright for others to bring people in willy nilly? She followed me in to make sure I wasn't murdering CN somewhere quiet.

[Sphinx] To be fair, if your murderous ex god returned with a child, you'd be concerned too.

[Doc] If that's been happening I'm not aware of it. No one has come in without permission in quite some time, and for good reason! Firebird is here because Mix vouched for him. This is still primarily a Herobrine sanctuary.

[Firebird] -Takes a deep breath before calmly setting CN down- Well, I'm sorry for not giving you a heads up. [Sphinx] Mix? -Vaguely familiar expression- About yeyy high? -Gestures at roughly Mix's height- Cute?

[Doc] huffs at Firebird - Yes. A cute little Herobrine that yeets dinosaurs?

[CN] Moves so Firebird is between him and Sphinx-

[Sphinx] I was wondering where she went. What a delightful little butt.

[Firebird] -Startled choking noise- Don't say any more, I think I might puke...

[Sphinx] -Bark of laughter-

[CN] Tugs at Firebirds clothes- Firebird...  Let's go...- He does not want to be alone right now

[Doc] Will she vouch for you? Firebird didn't ask permission so I'm not taking his word.

[Sphinx] I'm not quite sure, but I suppose I should hope so?

[Doc] If not, I'm tossing you back out. I don't like uninvited guests. - In chat, - hey Mix?

[Mix] -In chat- Yes?

[Doc] I've got a lady at the spawn who says she knows you. Wild hair, cat tail, no shirt?

[Mix] Oh nooo, the shirtless lady? She's still shirtless?

[Doc] Mind if tp you? I know you're quite a walk away. I'm tossing her out if you say she's trouble.

[CN] Shifts to his bird form and flits up to Firebirds shoulder-

[Mix] If she's still shirtless I'd like to not. I know exactly what lady you're talking about. Beside not putting a shirt on ever, she's fine. The worst she'll do unless provoked is be shirtless near you and pester you with riddles if she gets bored.

[Firebird] -Pets CN a bit- What, no devouring people anymore?

[Sphinx] That fell out of style not too long after your fall from grace. Sure, it's entertaining, but out of style.

[CP] - WILL YOU FUCKERS PLEASE SHUT UP!

[Doc] Grumbles- Mix says you're acceptable but annoying. I trust them well enough to let the barging in slide. - their hands skirt over the command block they're holding under one arm- You're locked in for the moment though. Consider it a probationary period. And eating people will get you stomped by me personally.

[Sphinx] That's completely fine, I had no plans to leave so soon. And eating people is out of style anyway. -Hand wave-

[Firebird] Can I go now?

[Doc] Yes. Just don't do that again. I'm trying to do an update dammit. Everyone keeps intrupting me.

[CN] Ducks his head a little, knowing it's actually mostly his fault-

[Firebird] You could have just... Done the update. -Shrugs before skirting off with CN-

[Sphinx] -Stands there for a hot second before trailing after Firebird-

[Doc] Considering the last few times have ended up with things being majorly glitched, I'm not inclined to hurry! - eyeballs Sphinx- And where are you going?

[Sphinx] To observe, unless you are going to station me somewhere, of course.

[Doc] Has realized Cn is still really upset. -Let him comfort the kid alone dammit. Just... come with me. It looks like it might rain anyway.

[Sphinx] -Looks at Firebird and CN for a moment before turning to return to Doc's side-

-There's a little rumble from above and Doc starts heading back towards the castle. -

[Doc] Who are you anyway?

[Sphinx] I'm Sphinx, Speaker of Riddles and the only one to harass Ra more than Horus and not lose an eye. Wait… Uhh… Firebird is what he goes by now, yes? -Taps chin- I think that's what the child said. What an unoriginal name. Why not just name yourself phoenix?

[Doc] Because it's hard to spell? I'm Doc. By name and nature. - They open the door for her and head down the steps beside the horse pen just as the first drops begin to fall.

[Sphinx] -Shuts the door behind her and pads down too. Her claws make little clicky noises. Nice.-

[Doc] So... are you a glitch? - Xe shifts the block to hir other arm and passes down the second stairs near the shower and fireplace.

[Sphinx] Hm? Oh no, I don't think so. I am what I was meant to be. … probably. -Taking everything in as she follows Doc-

[Porygon] Makes a happy beeping noise as it trundles around the corner to see who's come in.

[Doc] Do you have a home game? - They reach down to pat the birdlike pokemon but don't attempt to pick them up. Obviously.

[Galvantua] Peeks at them from high on the wall as they pause in the vine room-

[Deer] Starts coming up from the bedroom, completely naked-

[Lh] Runs in front of Deerhearts hooves and sashays-

[Sphinx] The very same we stand in. Although I've seen a few others following in Firebird' footsteps... -Same hat Deer, same hat. Titties out.-

[Doc] Now I'm confused. You don't look like a NOTCH and you don't have a glitch.

[Deer] Yelps as she trips and face plants on the stairs-

[Sphinx] Yess?

[Lh] Squeaks in alarm and bolts upstairs-

[Doc] Hears the noise and puts down the command block to check on her- Deerheart! Are you okay???

[Deer] - I'm fine, why haven't you come to bed yet?

[Sphinx] -Pokes the block with a foot before traipsing down the steps after Doc-

[Lh] Comes back to sniff Sphinx-

[Doc] Unexpected guest- xe helps her up and thumbs at Sphinx-

[Deer] - Oh, hello!

[Sphinx] -Tail wiggles  as LH does the sniffy- Hello!

[Deer] - Love are you still working on the update?

[Lh] Mew???

[Doc] Trying too. I was almost done... - they look her up and down- Were you amusing yourself waiting for me my darling?

[Deer] - Of course not!

[Doc] Okay... Deerheart, Sphinx, Sphinx, Deerheart. And I suddenly feel overdressed...

[Deer] Tugs on Doc's coat- Then maybe you should remove some things

[Doc] Ah-hems- They take her gently and lead her back up so they aren't crowded in the stairwell. - When I'm done I will because, barring other emergencies; I'm going to go to bed.  

[Lh] wiggle butt and tries to bap at Sphinx's tail.

[Sphinx] -Calmly swooshes tail out of LH's reach-

[Deer] - So the only thing that needs to happen is the update getting installed?

[Lh] Little backflip-

[Doc] I just have to cross my fingers and toes and let the files in. - They're heading for the command block again-

[Deer] - Alright, so Sphinx, what brings you here?

[Sphinx] My murderous ex god, who seems to be living a surprisingly peaceful life here.

[Deer] - Murderous ex god?

[Sphinx] He goes by Firebird now, apparently.

[Deer] - Oh!  Yes Firebird has been very helpful here, especially when it comes to CN, he's taught him a lot and has untaught some things a...  Not so nice NOTCH taught him

[Doc] Winces at the mention and arranges a few things before hitting several keys simultantously. Theres a little ripple and hum and the change spreads out in a gentle wave across the server.

[Deer] Shivers-

[Sphinx] Hm... Interesting.

[Deer] - Yes, CN's grown a lot under his care, and you can see Firebirds attached to him as well.  I don't think Flowey interacts with either of them very much though

[Doc] 18w10c is in play. Lets see how it works... - they take out a stair block and place it in a little pool of water against the wall. The water flows smoothly over the step- Well it looks better at least.

[Deer] - Oh  good, now we can sit in the water without going so deep

[Sphinx[ That would explain why he murdered about 20 people in his search for the child,  definitely.

[Deer] - I'm sorry, he what?

[Doc] HE DID WHAT????

[Sphinx] I do believe the child told you he "got angry".

[Deer] - Oh dear...  Well, he wouldn't be the first here to have a relapse

[Doc] Grinds hir teeth - 'Getting angry' does not mean going on a murder spree.

[Sphinx] Well, from what you've stated, it's quite understandable.

[Deer] - He practically see's CN as his own child at this point Doc, what would you have done if it was Yaunfen instead?

[Doc] Steadying breath- He's a NOTCH. I get upset when NOTCHs murder people okay? I expect it from the creepypastas, and even a few of the brines. You tell TLOT he did that and you won't see him for days.

[Sphinx] -Calmly Swishes tail back and forth- If it soothes you, back in the day it would have been well over 20.

[Doc] Pacing a bit - No, that doesn't help at all actually. No wonder Flowey was trying to kill him.

[Sphinx] Hmmm.. Well, it's the truth. -Shrugs apathetically-

[Deer] - Doc, you've seen how often Firebird has helped us since coming here, fighting DN and Harvestman

[Doc] I know.. I know.. I'm not proposing anything. I'm just... irritated.

[Lh] Makes another grab for Sphinx's tail.

[Porygon] Rolls over to lean on Deerheart's left hoof.

[Sphinx] -Swishes tail again, bopping LH on the snoot-

[Deer] - It's alright Doc, you know Firebird will help us if we need it

[Lh] Mew! - chuffs!

[Doc] Rubs hir temples - And we can't even just avoid telling TLOT since he can read minds... I am not looking forward to this....

[Deer] - I'll talk to him, you know he trusts me explicitely

[Doc] That might be for the best...

[Deer] - But for now, bed.  Do you need a room Sphinx?

[Doc] Thumbs at the hallway behind hir. - There's an empty room here, one at the top of the stairs at the other end of the room, and another where we came in. Take your pick.

[Sphinx] I'll find somewhere.

[Doc] The kitchen is down there, help yourself if you're an early riser. - yawns-

[Sphinx] -Gives a nod before vanishing off into the house-

[Deer] Takes Doc's hand- Come love, let's sleep

[bike42]

Traveling to Africa

The anticipation and logistics leading up to the trip were like nothing I can recall. Partly due to lack of major adventures this past two years, but also made more complex with COVID precautions and necessary documents.

Carrie at Embark (our expedition leader) was helpful with getting us to secure our Tanzania visa in advance, although convincing our IT security firewall as well as our credit card company that these $100 transactions with the Tanzanian government were legitimate was a whole other deal!

Then there were health declaration documents that needed to be completed for Amsterdam and Tanzania, along with the regular declaration stuff (why are you coming here, where and how long are you staying …).

Next was the health documentation - copies of our vaccination records, and securing PCR COVID testing the day before we traveled. One of my biggest sources of angst the past few weeks was “what if after all this time and planning, one of us tested positive?” Jeff and I were tested Wednesday at 8 am, and I checked the “MyChart” no less than 30 times that day. Just before 8 pm, we got our negative results and our travel companions all got theirs about the same time - huge sigh of relief. Our travel doc wrote a letter certifying we had been fully vaccinated and tested negative by PCR, but she warned us that many travelers reported being extorted and having to submit to COVID tests when they arrived at their destinations, so we went trying to stay open minded and ready for anything.

The packing logistics were a bit challenging, but we had all that time together hiking the IAT to discuss, plus Embark provided us with great guidance including lists and videos. Jeff and I “practice packed” our waterproof duffels (we bought 70L NRS roll top bags like we’d used on our river trip last year). We’ll take those on the trek with our sleeping bags and extra clothes, but they’ll need to be under 30 pounds as the porters will be carrying them on their heads. After our practice pack, we loaded them up with extra clothes and toiletries that won’t be part of the trek. We put our backpacks inside of other packs and carried those on the plane. Once we arrive in Tanzania, we’ll be able to leave our safari clothes and extra stuff at the hotel during our hike, and then leave our hiking stuff while we safari - so the extra bag will come in handy!

We left home about noon on Thursday, with Ryan dropping us off at the airport. We met Gary at the check-in desk, and the lady there did a thorough check of our travel documents - health record including vaccination and testing record, Tanzania visa and of course our passports. Our boarding passes were marked with “documents checked,” and surprisingly, we didn’t have to show any other documents the whole trip. Nonetheless, my usual travel binder was twice as full as usual with reservation confirmations, our travel insurance policy, and all of the previously completed declarations and visa documents.

It was an easy trip to Detroit. Jeff and I got a complimentary upgrade to First Class which was nice. I had a gin and tonic and a bag of almonds - nice relaxing start to a long travel expedition! We had about 2 hours in Detroit, so we first went to the Delta Club, where it was no charge to bring Gary along. We filled up on salads and stuffed extra cookies into our bags.

The plane from Detroit to Amsterdam was about half full, so we had the middle Comfort Plus row to ourselves, which made it easy to get up and move about when your seat partner was sleeping or watching a movie. The mediocre airline food wasn’t such a big deal since we’d filled up at the Delta Club in Detroit, and knew we’d have access to the KLM lounge in Amsterdam.

I think we arrived about 8am on Friday. We walked a few gates, looked at the status board and found we were practically right at our departure gate … and there we found Kent & Lynn and Dan & Tam who had arrived earlier from Chicago. We had two hours to kill, so we brushed our teeth, walked a bit, went to the KLM club, Jeff and Gary played some cribbage. Then before we knew it, we were loading onto the KLM jet for our eight hour fight to Kilimanjaro Airport in Arusha, Tanzania. I had a window seat, and most of Europe was cloudy, but it cleared up to see some mountains, sweeping coastlines somewhere over the Mediterranean … and then it was dark again - felt like the shortest day ever.

We arrived in Tanzania shortly after 9 pm, and joined the tired and confused crowd walking down the stairs onto the tarmac. Our first bottleneck came where one guy was holding back a crowd of hundreds, making us produce our boarding passes to get past him (we just came off that airplane, how would we have gotten there without a boarding pass?). Then about an hour wait to get to the “health screening” desk which was set up outside. A women took our temperature and wrote down a control number on a scrap of paper. She told us to go to another desk to pay $10 for our COVID test. I realized that was part of the online form we’d filled out before leaving home. She wasn’t interested in seeing the results we’d brought with us. The only way into Tanzania was to stand in another line, have your brain poked by a guy in a white lab coat (hope those were fresh gloves), and then wait until your name is called with the results. Then another long wait in the border control line. Those of us with prepaid visas had a different line, but it didn’t seem to be faster one way or the other.

Gary got through first, Jeff and I about 10 minutes later - only to discover that Jeff checked bag didn’t make it. To make it even more confusing, his bag had his luggage tickets (and priority handling tag), but the airline barcode sticker had my name on it. So the airline thinks they’ve lost my bag, but when they find it, it’ll look like it belongs to someone else. Jeff found a helpful guy to start the claim, and he found that in Amsterdam, the bag way loaded onto a different bag and went to Nairobi instead. He said, no problem, we’ll get it delivered to you tomorrow (we’ll see).

The other four were further back in the plane, and therefore, they were practically the last group to clear customs. Tam had just learned that our hotel in Moshi was changed, so we were able to go back and modify our claim to hopefully get the bag routed to the right place. We’ve had this work out okay once before (coincidentally, with a transfer in Amsterdam), so fingers crossed that it works out this time too! All of his hiking gear is in that bag!

It was nearly midnight when we got outside and connected with the transport that Embark had arranged. A guide named Hans, and a driver whose name I didn’t capture. Now we were faced with the unsettling feeling that comes on a bus, driving on the left side, with headlights barreling at you in what seems like the wrong side of the road. It was about an hour to Moshi, with a rough road, several small settlements where we’d slow down, speed bumps and rough train tracks. We were glad to get to our new accommodations: Bristol Cottages, and find they were expecting us!

Our cottage was rustic, but clean. Two single beds, each with a bundle of mosquito netting hung over the bed (we didn’t use it, have been taking anti-malaria medication for 5 days now and hope that’s enough). I unpacked and organized my stuff. Jeff, not having much stuff, brushed his teeth and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Just over 24 hours of travel time, including waiting for planes. The long flights were pretty comfortable and we napped intermittently … but are now feeling completely exhausted and will sleep good tonight!

[unseenthewriter]

CHAPTER 5: CHEERLEADING

Chapter 5: 3468 Words

Fic Total: 14556 Words

Series Total: 14556 Words

"Well since you're going to be here for a while Jay you should probably join some sort of club." Dunc said to me during lunch.

I rolled my eyes. "No thanks. I've enjoyed my lack of things to do after school ever since I quit Gymnastics. Besides, I volunteer at PPTH."

"What about cheerleading?" Dunc asked, completely ignoring my reply.

"Are you suggesting this just because you're hoping to be back on the football team next year?" I asked with a smirk creeping up my face.

"What! No of course not." Dunc protested quickly.

"Uh-huh, sure thing." I said.

"I am in remission so fingers crossed I'll be ready for next season." He moved on.

"Yeah, congrats on that." I said.

"Ah well having a Doc like Wilson helps." Dunc said.

"Yeah, he's pretty nice." I mumbled.

"Cute too. You know for a guy his age." He said offhandedly.

I choked on my drink. "What?" I croaked.

"You heard me." Duncan said.

How the HELL do I even begin to respond to that. "You were the one who brought up he's basically my Stepdad." I said.

"Yeah well, your Dad has good taste that's all I'm saying." Dunc said with a shrug.

Wow, I want to curl up and die. Mainly because Duncan is absolutely correct and I hate it. "I need friends who don't think my family is hot." I grumbled.

"Good luck with that." Dunc said.

Jerk.

~~~

I yawned as I stared into my school locker. Princeton Prep is one of those stupid schools that doesn't let you carry around your backpack all day because of the "potential fire hazard". I forgot to grab my history textbook during passing time so that's why I'm here. After grabbing the book I turned around to be faced with a girl. Ivy Adler. Captain of the Cheerleaders. She's not your typical Cheerleading Captain. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a lesbian. "Yes?" I said.

"Lestrade said you were interested in joining." She replied.

Lestrade is Duncan's surname. He's actually mostly called that. Most of the rich boys at the school go by their surnames. Which means most of the boys do because only a handful of us aren't insanely rich. That handful includes me of course. Well sort of… It's complicated. "He says a lot of things." I huffed and started to make my way down the hallway.

"I know about you." Ivy said and grabbed my arm.

"What about me?" I said locking eyes with her.

Ivy glared at me for a minute before continuing. "You could've been an Olympian."

I jerked my arm away from Ivy's grasp. "I doubt it."

After the first motorcycle accident, I struggled a lot more with anxiety. It was starting to bleed into my Gymnastics before I quit. The articles don't talk about that of course because my coach kept the whole thing on the down-low. Doing the more advanced tricks was getting harder for me to do. Not in a physical way but in a mental way.

"You don't need to be an Olympian to join Cheerleading." Ivy said.

I sighed. "I'll think about it. Tell Lestrade to stop talking about me behind my back."

"He never says anything bad." She said.

"Didn't think he did." I said.

~~~

I was sitting at the kitchen counter trying to not cry while doing math homework. Wilson was cooking some pasta dish and I have no idea what House is up to.

Wilson stopped to look at me as I grumbled to myself about secants. "Do you not take notes?" He asked, noticing the clear lack of notes.

"Math is my first class of the day. I'm usually asleep." I said.

Wilson looked worried at that. "I'm fine. I'm an honors student." I said.

"It's a wonder how." Wilson muttered to himself but I decided to let it go.

A few problems later I glanced back up. "You think Dunc will be ready for the next football season?" I asked.

"Duncan Lestrade?" Wilson asked.

I nodded.

"He asked me the same question recently. As long as the cancer doesn't come back he should be. Why do you ask?" Wilson replied.

I sighed. "He wants me to join the Cheerleaders."

"Hmm, House was a Cheerleader." Wilson replied casually.

I blinked. "What?"

"In college." House said while making his entrance. Beelining for the fridge to grab a beer.

I sat there for a minute. Completely thrown off guard. "You were a Cheerleader?" I squeaked.

House took a seat next to me and glanced at my math homework. He made a face of disgust at it. "My leg wasn't always like this."

"That's not what I meant. I mean obviously it wasn't always- Well not obviously. I mean!" I stumbled over my words.

House, of course, was smirking and Wilson must've decided that it can't be possible for me to get more flustered because he decided to drop a bomb on me. "If Duncan is on the Football team and wants you to join the Cheerleaders… Are you two together?"

"No!" I said far too quickly.

House and Wilson were both staring at me.

"We're just friends." Truth. I think.

"I mean I don't even know if he swings that way." Lie. He totally does, he's just never said it outright.

"I'm not into him anyway." Lie. Major lie Jay you totally are.

House chuckled into his beer bottle. He can see through my lies then. I looked back at my math homework. It definitely wasn't going to be finished any time soon so I put it away. "The Cheerleading Captain already cornered me and asked me to join." I said.

"That's pretty quick." Wilson said.

"Yeah, she found out about my Gymnastic past apparently." I grumbled and held my face in my hands while propping my elbows up on the counter. Part of me wonders if I just kept presenting as a girl and stayed in Gymnastics would I have really ended up in the Olympics? Of course, there's always going to be the regret of getting on that motorcycle with my Mom. All the what-ifs in my short life so far. Wilson put a bowl of pasta in front of me and interrupted my thoughts. "Oh, thanks." I said and got up to grab a glass of water.

"Why do you have a voice recorder?" House asked. Great, he's going through my backpack totally chill…

I grabbed the backpack back with a glare. "I record some of the lectures. Mainly when I'm tired." I said and sat back down with my water.

"You record math?" Wilson asked.

"Unfortunately math doesn't transfer too well to just audio recording." I said.

"How'd you get into Princeton Prep?" Wilson asked.

"You're there on scholarship." House said.

Oh, he remembered that. Maybe he kept forgetting my name to annoy me.

"I'm good at forging my Mom's signature and faking her voice. Because she was such a busy person the school was accommodating and never asked to meet her face to face just me because we were from out of state. My grades got me the scholarship." I explained.

Wilson sighed. "Only someone related to you would pull off something like that." He said to House.

"Sounds like they didn't look too much into your Mother then. There's a few easy to find articles online about her death." House said.

I froze. Images of the crash flashed through my mind. Oh, God the blood and-

My fork clattered on the table making me jump. "Right. Yeah, they were idiots." I said quickly.

Wilson looked at me suspiciously but he didn't say anything.

"I'm going to uh finish my math." I said picking up my backpack and making my escape to my room before Wilson or House could say anything.

After closing the door I let the backpack fall to the floor with a thud and stood there for a while. Numb.

Later I sat down and finished my math.

~~~

"Jay wake up." Dunc said.

"Huh?" I mumbled and sat up.

"You really gotta stop falling asleep in class. The only reason the teachers don't wake you up is because you're an honors student." He said.

I stood up and stretched my arms. "I mean I should probably ask House or Wilson about getting a new prescription for my sleep meds but I keep forgetting." I mumbled.

Dunc sighed and led me out of the history classroom. "You need to get to Biomedical Science."

I've already slept in both math and history. Hopefully, I'll be awake enough now. "Yeah got it, have fun in Band." I mumbled. I'll definitely be awake by Choir though.

"Need me to wake you up with my sax?” He joked.

"No, I'm good now." I said walking into the Biomedical Science classroom.

I was about to lay my head down on my desk but I was cornered by Ivy. "After school today, meet me at the gym." She said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I have to see what you can do. It's been 3 years since you've been a gymnast." She said.

"I'm busy." I said hoping that that would work.

"With what? Volunteering at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital? I know your Father works there. I'm sure you can cancel one day." She said.

How the hell does she know that House is my Father? I guess Dunc could've told her but that's a bit much for him. It's not exactly a secret that I'm at PPTH all the time but my last name is Flynn.

Ivy sighed clearly noticing the gears turning in my head. "You don't know who my Mother is do you?" She asked.

"Uh no I don't really have the time to look into other people's lives." I shot back.

She rolled her eyes. "She's a lawyer. A Dr. Rose King is trying to sue Dr. Gregory House for custody of you."

I blinked. "Sorry what?"

Ivy faulted for a second. "Did you not know?" She asked.

I slumped further into the desk. Of course, she'd try to pull something like this. King has her own kid now for God's sake why can't she just leave me alone! Can't I get a break? "No, I didn't." I said.

Our teacher walked in and yelled at people to sit down.

~~~

I've never been one to skip school but there's a first time for everything. I managed to slip out during lunch. Not that it's that hard to do or anything it's more getting back in but I'm not planning on doing that anyway.

Dr. Cuddy was unfortunately in the lobby and spotted me instantly. "Jay?" She said looking confused and slightly worried.

"I need to speak to House." I said through gritted teeth.

Cuddy set down the file she was holding. "How about we talk in my office for a minute, it's been a while." She said.

I wanted to say no and march my way up the stairs straight to House's office but honestly my nerves were starting to wear thin. Anxiety about having to confront House. I just nodded and followed her.

After Cuddy closed the door to her office she spoke up. "You look terrible."

Yeah I've been getting barely any sleep and my uniform is a mess right now. I took a shaky breath. "I know."

"What's he done?" Cuddy asked.

I sighed. "Look it's complicated." I don't really want to talk to Cuddy about this. I don't want to talk to House about it either but you know…

"I almost didn't think it was possible for you to get angry." Cuddy said.

I guess that makes sense. For the most part I'm a pretty passive person sure I can be a bit of a sarcastic shit sometimes but when it comes down to it I normally back out of a fight. "Everyone has their limits." I grumbled and made my way to the door.

"Jay." Cuddy said, stopping me. "He does care about you."

I froze for a second. If he does he doesn't show it very well.

~~~

House was asleep in the chair near the door when I got to his office. I didn't wake him, instead I just sat at his desk and gathered my thoughts while messing around with the tennis ball.

My phone kept vibrating in my blazer so after a while I took it out. Dunc has been wondering where I am. I scowled slightly and turned off my phone. That's when I noticed House was awake. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he spoke up. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Yes." I said.

A few seconds of silence. "You found out." He said.

"Were you going to tell me?" I asked, trying to not let the anger creep into my voice.

A few more seconds of silence. "Eventually." House said.

I closed my eyes, still trying to keep my calm. "You didn't think I needed to know that the person I hate most in the world wants custody of me?" I asked.

More silence. I opened my eyes to House still  formulating a response. I noticed Dr. Taub idling near the door but I shot him an icy glare so he ran off while paging someone. "There's more than just the plane crash." House finally said.

I scoffed and stood up. He's right of course there's more to the history of me and Dr. Rose King but that isn't what this is about. All House cares about is finding out about the things that I keep hidden for a reason. "Of course that's what you jump on. Did you ever think for a moment just a moment that I came to talk to you about this not because I wanted you to ask me some more God Damn prying questions but MAYBE because I'm worried. I mean fuck I've never skipped school in my life before House. At least I had one decent parent as a kid." I exclaimed and stormed out shoving my way past Wilson who had just gotten to the door.

~~~

I wasn't even entirely sure how I ended up at the park. I knew I didn't take my car so I either took the bus or walked. Probably walked. I've been trying to clear my head not that it's been working too well. I found a park bench and sat down. My exhaustion suddenly hit me. Not just physical but emotional. I blinked a tear from my eye and fumbled my phone out of my blazer. I kinda expected it to be blowing up by now. Oh, right I turned it off in House's office. I waited for it to reboot.

I'm just so tired. I don't know how much longer I can keep going. Every time I think things might be okay for a bit something else happens. Can't I get a break? Can't I just get a normal life?

The texts and calls that I missed started to come in. Mostly from Dunc and Wilson but I was surprised to actually see a few from House. I blinked my eyes a few times to try to stay awake and texted Wilson saying where I was. I slid the phone back in my pocket and sighed.

"Jay!" Wilson said, making me jerk awake.

"Sorry." I mumbled and stood up. I was cold makes sense it's getting close to winter. I really shouldn't be doing something like this. Thankfully Wilson had grabbed one of my coats and gave it to me. I put it on.

"We are just glad you're okay." Wilson said.

I followed him to his car. My brain was still taking a bit to process things. He said We. That means him and House. Huh. Maybe Cuddy was right.

I had slumped in the passenger's seat almost instantly. Wilson was checking on me every few minutes as he drove.

"Dr. King never adopted you; she has no legal claim for custody. You shouldn't worry." Wilson said.

"I just want something in my life to not fall apart for once." I mumbled.

We spent the rest of the ride in silence.

~~~

The thing about living with two Doctors is that you're able to get Doctor's Notes fairly easily. So skipping school didn't actually end up being a problem. I just was like "Oh I forgot I had these Doctor's appointments!" And they were fine with it. I had to promise Wilson it wouldn't happen again but I'm not planning on it so that was fine. Dunc and Ivy didn't believe it though.

"You totally confronted your Father didn't you?" Ivy asked after I walked into the gymnasium. I spotted Dunc in the bleachers.

"Nah, definitely not ask Dunc I avoid confrontation like the plague." I lied.

"Dunc?" She asked.

He looked up from his homework. "He doesn't like calling me Lestrade and Jay definitely hates confrontation."

I set down my backpack and blazer on the bleachers next to Dunc.

"Are you going to refuse to call me Adler too?" She asked.

"Adler. Adler? Adler… yeah, no Ivy is better." I said while unbuttoning my dress shirt.

Ivy huffed. I stood in front of her. "Ready for your try out." I said.

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "You doing it in those pants?" She asked.

"Done it before and I'll do it again." I said and winked at Dunc who was half watching. He gave me a thumbs up.

She sighed. "Fine let's go."

The try out went smoothly. I could tell Ivy was impressed even though she was trying to hide it. It's actually the most fun I've had in a while. Dunc was recording quite a bit of it and thought I didn't notice. I'll have to ask him for the video later.

"You definitely aren't out of practice." Ivy said once we finished.

"Ah, something about flying through the air there's nothing quite like it." I said as I was putting my dress shirt back on.

Ivy nodded. "I'll have a talk with the rest of the team and get back to you." She said and left.

I sat down next to Dunc. "I lied." I said.

"I know." He said without looking up from his homework.

Jeez, does he know me that well already? "I still can't believe I actually did it honestly."

Dunc set his homework down. "How'd it go?" He asked.

"I dunno." I said.

"You don't know?" He pressed.

I sighed. "I kinda stormed out but it was interesting because it's the first time I've ever heard that House has been worried about me."

"Ah well, I don't envy you tonight." He said.

Yeah, I'm really not looking forward to getting home tonight. Things are super awkward right now.

"Hey, do you know if Ivy's a lesbian?" I asked, changing the subject.

Dunc raised an eyebrow. "I assume so but I think she's still closeted. Why?"

"Just curious." I said.

"Well, you're not her type. Even if she does like dudes." Dunc said.

"Oh okay, then hot shot what's Ivy Adler's type." I mocked.

"Jocks." He said simply.

Ah well, he's got me there. I'm more of a nerdy twink. "Oh, she's one of those people." I said.

"Oh, really what's your type?" Dunc asked.

"I don't know man! I've been a bit busy too figure that stuff out." I said.

"Right sure thing." He said sarcastically.

I huffed.

~~~

I had hoped that coming home after 10 PM would mean that I'd avoid House and Wilson but apparently not. They were on the couch watching TV when I walked in. Well, House was. Wilson was asleep with his head in House's lap. "Where have you been?" He asked quietly enough so that Wilson didn't wake up.

I kinda stood there for a second with a deer in the headlights look. "I had Cheerleading tryouts and after that, I had quite a bit of studying to catch up on." I replied. I never really expected House to be the "Where have you been?" Type Parent… My Mom yes totally. House? No. It's actually quite funny because my Mom never really questioned me when I turned up home late but she seemed like the type of parent that would.

"He okay?" I asked pointing at Wilson.

"He's been having migraines today." House said.

"Oh that sucks." I said. Didn't realize he got those.

"Well, I can see you're on the verge of falling apart so you're not doing any better." House retorted.

I didn't even protest that. He's right. I stood there blankly for a minute. "I'm sure it'll be fine." I mumbled before making my way to my room.

I was surprised to see a bottle of sleep medication on my nightstand. Prescribed for me by House. I guess he found out then. Finally got a decent night's sleep.

AN: FINALLY got Ivy now! Next Chapter introduces Bill so after that we’ll have all of the main cast! Also thank you everyone who is reading this I’m having fun writing but I always love when I have readers :)

[thewaywedo33]

Wynonna Earp Episode 2X04 Thoughts and Faves

Every week so far during Season 2 I finish the episode thinking the show has leveled up, and wooooo doggy, was that the case again this week. There was a lot to unpack and mull over in the hour of television, and here are just a handful of things that stood out to me:

That opening scene, man, it was just gorgeous. From the haunting music to the cinematography, Waverly’s slow-mo walk, the interaction between the Earp sisters (that small, frustrated sob from Waverly, good god), everything was done so well and pulled you right into the feel of the episode. From the start you knew something big was coming, but you didn’t know what, and the payoff was phenomenal.

I liked Jeremy from his introduction, but the BBD scene between him, Wynonna and Waverly really cemented things for me. I love the interplay between him and Wynonna especially. “Close your mouth, Jeremy.” It’s so great. This scene really has me looking forward to the inevitable episode when Jeremy has to make decisions and take actions to ‘prove’ himself to Wynonna, which will result in him becoming a solidified part of the group. He took steps in this episode, but you know it’s coming.

Speaking of that BBD scene, Waverly felt more like our Waverly in that scene than she has in awhile. And I love the way Wynonna relents, despite her reservations, to her sister joining Lucado’s BBD Op, basically because of Waverly’s face. She can tell how much it means to Waverly, so she gives in. 

The way Rosita says ‘Thunderation’ when she mocks Doc is a joy. I kind of want it to be my new ringtone. Much like Jeremy, I’ve enjoyed Rosita so far. I look forward to finding out more about her. What is it that has her trying to seduce Jeremy in one moment, then trying to leverage Dolls’ serum for something in the next (which backfires, because messing with a demonic dragon-being while he’s in withdrawal is never a good idea). Why does she need protection? What exactly is she trying to get free from?

The Wynonna and Nicole scene was one of my favorites of the episode. I’m on the record already with my belief that it highlights the respect Wynonna has for Nicole. Wynonna doesn’t do apologies often, and if she does, it’s normally awkward and quip riddled. This wasn’t. It felt like an acknowledgement that Nicole is an important part of her sister’s life, and her opinion on Waverly’s behavior and general well-being can be trusted. Like many people, I’ve loved the idea of a WynHaught brotp since episode 1X07, and this felt like further development towards that.

Lounge singer Waverly is a good look, and damn can Dominique sing, but my main thought during the scene was ‘who are all these people in a dark, smoky lounge during the day?’. It’s winter, so the sun would set pretty early, yet it’s fully light out when Waverly is singing. I guess there really isn’t much to do in Purgatory.

Regarding the Bading Bading scene, I find it interesting that Waverly was willing to use the ‘Tacos are tasty’ code to call in the BBD backup (not knowing there wasn’t any), but she’s upset when Wynonna shows up and blows her cover. It highlights how much Waverly wants agency and a form of independence. She wants so badly for Wynonna to view her as an equal, the way she feels Wynonna viewed Willa. Waverly is tired of Wynonna having to come to her rescue, and it makes me wonder if we’re building towards Waverly being the one to rescue Wynonna at an opportune moment this season.

The “You know when my birthday is, right?” call back to season 1 hurts. Wynonna is the one Earp Waverly would expect to remember her birthday (we know Ward didn’t). You know Waverly is going to tuck that interaction away with the rest of her fears revolving around inferiority and not belonging.

Underrated Earp sister moment of the episode: “No, damn it.” -Waverly, “Stupid bitch.” - Wynonna, directed at Siri. Simultaneous expletive dropping Earp sisters are a favorite of mine.

Tucker is super creepy and extremely manipulative, and his scene with Nicole had my spine straightening. God I hope Nicole is the one to ultimately take that weasel down by the end of the season. It certainly feels like they’re setting that up. We know Wynonna will be required to deal with faux Mercedes and Beth (insert woeful ode to the real Mercedes we hardly knew, but loved), but let Officer Haught remove the walking embodiment of patriarchal bullshit from our screens, please.

I love that Nicole is getting her own storylines outside of her relationship with Waverly. I know there was no Wayhaught this episode, but I’m honestly fine with that. I love the character of Nicole Haught all on her own, especially as they develop her more and more as an individual. She plays so well off other characters and with multiple dynamics that it would be a crime not to utilize it. Not to mention, I feel like seeing her in her own element only strengthens the Wayhaught relationship. It’s like when you meet a couple in real life, and for awhile you only know them as an entity, but when you finally have the chance to interact with each person one on one it cements for you why they work so well together. Understanding the individuals helps you understand the couple in a multi-dimensional way. I love it. Give Nicole scenes with ALL the citizens of Purgatory, as far as I’m concerned.

I adored when Doc showed up at the lounge. His little ‘woohoo’ chuckle and the way he takes the time to scoop the hat up off the floor during a gun fight are a delight. I felt like we were given a glimpse of him in his 1800′s form, as Wyatt’s right hand man, irreverently wielding the moniker of one of the greatest gunslingers to ever live. 

Sign me up for the begrudging respect Doc and Dolls display to each other. There is nothing like two competitors acknowledging each other’s strengths and showing reciprocal admiration, despite having reservations.

And now, to the scene. You know the one. If you’re like me, you didn’t see the final moments of the show coming. That means something to me, because I almost always guess the twist or see the surprise before it happens in shows and movies. It’s a testament to the show taking it’s time over the first four episodes in building the Waverly possession storyline. Everything felt like it was hurtling towards a painful showdown between Wynonna and a youngest Earp sister who no longer possesses any of her kindness or care. But then, oh but then, the show switched the field in a single moment.

Something that really jumps out to me in this scene is when the Goo demon states how strong Waverly is. We know she’s a brave little toaster, but this almost seems to be more than that. When Wynonna says she won’t let the demon kill her, the Goo demon says “If only”, which suggests to me it would be difficult to do so. Maybe it’s just the writers’ testament to Waverly’s strength of character and perseverance, maybe it’s more. We’ll have to wait and see, but I loved the ambiguity.

I think I ended up typing SCROFANO’S FACE about five times while taking notes on this episode, but it really is a sight to behold in the final scene. When she holds up Peacemaker to Waverly and it glows, you can clearly see on her face the realization and the pain it brings that she failed to protect another sister. Oh Wynonna, baby, in a town full of demons, with your family curse hanging over your heads, you can’t protect Waverly the way you want to, it’s impossible, but I feel how desperately you need to try. 

Moments later, Wynonna is clearly freaked out by seeing her sister possessed, so she stands stock still, which is rare for her. It tells you she’s desperately trying to get a read on the situation to figure out how she can save her sister without harming her. It gives the Goo Demon the moment it needs to make the contact required for a body transfer. And thus, a true ‘I did not see that coming, WTF’, moment is born.

I wonder if the Goo can sense the internal strife and darkness in Wynonna. When Gooverly says “It’d be so easy” it seems to suggest it won’t be nearly as difficult to possess Wynonna as it is Waverly. It could also be referencing her extra powers, but I’ll be very curious to see how in control the Goo manages to be next episode.

Some random fave dialogue from the Episode:

“I’d maim a duck for a spoon right now.” -Who hurt you Wynonna, and why did it give you a dislike for ducks?

“More like crap cakes.” - A classic Waverly quip that I’ve missed with all the demon possession going on.

“You can start fires with your mind?!” - This was one of those places I typed SCROFANO’S FACE, because it was like getting to behold the face of a dog who’s just been told they’re a good girl and getting a treat.

“There’s no one in the bushes?!” - Why is this show so top-shelf?

“My sister’s in there you bitch!” - Protective punch-throwing Wynonna can be on my screen anytime.

“Bad news, they ran out of pumpkin spice.” - Of course Jeremy is a pumpkin spice guy, nothing has ever seemed more in character to me.

“Asscapade.” - Actual dialogue, or Melanie Scrofano adlib? Inquiring minds want to know.

I have to finish this off with a reference to the 2X05 preview. We see Wynonna wielding Peacemaker just fine at one point, so, either the Goo makes another jump, or Wynonna is able to stave it off at times, allowing her to handle the gun. We know Peacemaker is sentient in some way, and can sense when the demon in someone is in control, but doesn’t seem to be able to sense anything when the demon is dormant. It’s evidenced by Dolls, and by Waverly being able to hold the gun in 2X03. 

I’ll be curious how it plays out. We know there’s more twists coming, Andras warned us to ‘Just wait’, so I’m preparing myself. I can’t wait to see Melanie handle goo-ified Wynonna.

Also, the Homestead seems to get pretty trashed in the episode, so prayer circle that we get tool-belt wearing Nicole Haught and Doc Holliday fixing the place up afterwards.

[pendragonfics]

Polaris

Paring: Leonard McCoy/Reader

Tags: female reader, reader is a nurse, set after Star Trek: Into Darkness but before Star Trek Beyond, fluff, angst, slice of life, references to old TV shows.

Summary: After being hurt, it can be hard to say three simple words to the people you love, to those who love you. It's been years since his divorce - you know that, and you've known him for years too. But those three words, they haven't been said yet, and you can't help but wonder why.

Requested by:  @thedorkofthecentury94

Word Count: 1,278

Posting Date:  2017-04-11

Current Date: 2017-06-11

You were from Maine, he from Georgia, and you loved the cold, and he, the warmth of a Sunday sun on his shoulders that drove him to keep working until moonrise. You liked the crisp bite of a well-kept wine, but mostly the bubbles of a fun drink to sneeze about, and he the dry, firm caress of aged whiskey, but mostly swigs of water to keep going throughout his days in the Medbay. Despite these opposites, you were very much attracted to one another, and would even go as far as to say that you loved him, and he you.

But those words hadn't been said yet, and for all you knew, it would take another five year mission and perhaps a run in with his ghastly ex-wife to utter those three words.

Leonard wasn't a very emotional man - sure, he often showed his exasperation for Captain Kirk often and loudly, and his intolerance of Mr. Spock's Vulcan ways, but never the behind the scenes lover things. Well, behind the scenes, the two of you lovers weren't really that ... affectionate. You'd known each other throughout the training at the academy, had started dating just before you were assigned to the USS Enterprise with Captain Pike, rest his soul. And then the Khan incident happened, but you were Earthbound for the whole thing, watching the stars and hoping - praying - that your Bones would make it out alive.

And he did.

And there you are, now, laying between the sheets, watching the peeling paint from the roof of your shoddy apartment in the Starfleet paid-building in New Mexico, listening to the faint hum of cars out on the street in the night traffic, and the dull roaring from the man who lays beside you. He denies vehemently that he snores, those eyebrows of his protecting his honour evermore, but it's true. It isn't a bad sort of snoring, not like the man who used to live beside you in the rooms on board the Enterprise.

It's ... comforting. A quite comforting reminder that the hand that seeks yours in the night to hold is there, and not a dream that you can hear.

There's a shift in the bed sheets, but it's you, and you slip out as carefully as you can to walk to the little balcony across from the bed. It's midyear, the kind of weather that leaves you warm throughout the day and night, the glow of sweat keeping you alive. As you sneak out, you taking a seat upon the box outline of the air-conditioning unit, and watch the city around you.

There are cars, the ones you'd heard, and they're down on the street trying to get to destinations you will never follow to, or know. There's the odd pedestrian but at the hour it is, they are most probably inebriated, or trying to be. The nightlife of wildlife is limited, seeing as in the last hundred years or so the protection for Earth animals has decreased, and thus, their numbers declined. But if you squint, you're not sure if there's an owl above the fire escape of the building opposite.

Your mind goes back to three days ago, when you heard that Leonard was making the trip back from Georgia. He was visiting Joanna, doing the right thing by being a father, and there were another few days before the pair of you were needed back out for the next mission. Thus, hours earlier, you unlocked the door for Leonard to enter, and after pizza and watching reruns of the ancient show Whose Line Is It Anyway (it was either that or Arsenic and Old Lace ... nothing good is on after ten o'clock in your town) and crashed in the bed half an hour later.

Three days you spent calculating words shared between the two of you, trying to beep Nyota, or young Pavel Chekov on the communicater (to no avail), of inquisitive, intrusive thoughts.

But here you are.

It's almost one in the morning, and the stars aren't as bright here in the south as they are when you're actually out there within them, and you miss the taste of adventure and the promise of new planets, and life, and the excitement that follows. You miss wearing your uniform, even if it is a little small for you, and you miss the great rush of waiting until the shift is over to take Leonard by the collar and make out in the supply cupboard.

"What're you doing out here, darling?" The sleepy growl of Leonard McCoy questions, his body following the head peering out to see what you were up to. It was unusual that you had fled from the bed - for him, maybe, but when he was sleeping deeply on board the ship between shifts, you'd sneak out of the room to the gallery, or even Hikaru Sulu's greenhouse to sit alone with your own thoughts. It was nicer than being awake, and alone with him by your side.

"Go back to sleep," you whisper, watching the moon. "You need to rest, we're going up today."

"At least shift over so I can sit with you," he grumbles good-naturedly, mussing your hair with the hand that loops around your waist, grabbing a blanket from the chair inside to share with the other. "Have you found the north star yet?"

You shake your head. "Wasn't looking," you mumble, pulling the blanket up. You hadn't realised the air had gotten cooler in the last few minutes, and suddenly were very grateful for Leonard's forward thinking. "Just came to clear my head."

"Too much in that brain, or just confusing things clouding your judgement?" he asks, lowering his lips close to your neck, pulling back the hair by your ear to plant a small kiss. "You know, I'm not the heaviest sleeper in the world, _______."

At that, you feel your face heat up, but you're not sure if it's in shame, or not. "You know that I ... leave in the night?" you whisper.

He nods. "_______, I'm human, not jumping to conclusions," he takes a deep breath, and moves closer to you, pointing to the sky. "There's Polaris, right there," he smiles, and in the light of the moon and the fading lights of the neon of the street below, the face of Leonard McCoy is ever so beautiful, and you cannot deny that fact. "And here's me telling you something too late," and deep breath, then, -

"Don't just say it because it's what people say to other people, who are ... in love," you interrupt. "Say it because you mean it. Say it because you're ready."

Leonard McCoy doesn't miss a beat, and replies, "I'm a darn idiot for waiting this long, _______. I see the way your eyes look when you think I don't notice, that sad look you have when you see damn Spock and Uhura holding hands -,"Swallowing, and not just a build up of saliva, but pride, he adds, "I love you, ________. Ever since you transferred into nursing, and destroyed my perfect record for beating everyone." His fingers card through your hair, softly, slowly, untangling what sleep has knotted it into. "I don't care if you like wine, or the cold, or even time to think about us -,"

You turn to face him, your faces so close that you can see his eyelashes, see every freckle upon his cheeks, see his eyes watching you right back, and swiftly, pulling his neck closer, you connect the both of you together to kiss.

"Took you long enough," you smirk, biting his lip. "But good news, doc, because I love you too."

[stemcelltransplant-blog]

Saturday, March 25, 2017

So this is weird. Not exactly sure how this notebook works but it looks really cool. I even set it up on my phone. Tots want to transfer all the lists from notes to this on my phone. So today. Too many thoughts unsure where to start. So this is gonna be a ramble.

 I'm watching Chopped right now. Cant pay attention to it. I try to watch and I cant focus. No idea whats cooking. No idea about the basket ingredients. My head cant focus on the show. I keep thinking.

 Good sleep last night. Woke up at 6:30 to begin my day. So enjoying waking up and thinking. It's the best thing ever. I havent been able to this in so long, its like my brain just turned on. Papa says I just gave myself permission to do other things. 4 years of just focusing on colitis and tv and now its like the world has opened new opportunities.

 Tots feel bad for not formatting this. Or being articulate. So scatter brained. BRAIN TURN OFF!!!! Or at least calm down.

 Kinda feel like its fine though. My writing is showing how im thinking. Makes me feel cool. ;)

 This will be great on a blog. I have so many plans for recording this trip. Excited.

 Ok so back to today. Woke up feeling good.

 Hoping not to repeat anything from this entry to another entry.

 Ok, ok. Focus. Now I want guddo to see what she thinks about this journal. She always stole my journal when I was small and said it was boring. Like just a list of events. No emotion or feelings or anything juicy. Thinking this is a better attempt.

 Ok, really. The point is to focus on today. Feeling like I should do something artistic and focus on the whole transplant thing if its gonna be on a blog. Nah. This is better.

 Woke up happy. I started reading this MIT tech magazine. So interesting. Wanting to start reading about advancements in tech. and to read research articles.

 Then, I started looking up things for guddo. So happy her application deadline isn't passed. Tots freaked out the other day that all deadlines are gone.

 Really wanting to color right now. Its actually really soothing. Gotta finish the entry though.

 Pass order was perfect today. Got out at noon.

 Then went to the best massage ever. You got no idea. My masseur is an angel. (love the background noise of tv) She had perfect pressure, perfectly warm hands. Perfectly hot hot stones. Hehe. Hot hot. Ive had several massages, but this is the best one yet. Ive never moaned in my life but I did today. I was so afraid that I was making it awkward.

 I keep peeing. WHY? Every freaking 20 minutes! :(

 Yeah im gonna say everything. No barriers. No embarrassment. Having people look at your butt for the last four years because of colitis.

 By the way, the relaxation room before and after a massage is something everyone should do. It's so calming. You should definitely arrive early enough to get 30 minutes in the relaxation room before your massage. It's great being surrounded by people, all on comfy couches, enjoying soft music. So calming. Therapeutic.

 Post massage.

 Ok, so now I want to start this on a blog and make it public for people to read daily if they're interested. But my mom says I jinx things when I do that. I'll talk to Guddo, Mama, and Papa and analyze their opinions. Probs gonna do it anyway. I want to keep my friends updated but I also want to make it public and see if I can be popular. (my dad is taking a pic of me right now for the family) So vain, I know. But I think it's ok. Might just skip asking everyone.

My daddy's picture

 Gotta pee again. Ugh. So frustrating.

 This is taking so much longer than expected but I'm really enjoying it.

 Loving my life.

 Ok, after massage. Went back to apartment (dad has an apartment nearby to get to nih when I get discharged from hospital and need to come stay in area for biweekly checkups) Opened packages! Got my new disney jacket, cherry blossom hand sanitizers, fan for hospital. Then, just changed and got ready to go. I keep wanting to work on my LEGO castle but with always doing something everyday I don't get time to do things at the apartment. T_T

 So back to hospital we go. Currently hooked up to IV pole thingy. 12-6 is basically the only time I'm unhooked when I can be everyday (some days I have extra medications so the schedule changes some times.

 Almost forgot to mention pizza. Right after leaving the hospital, I convinced Papa to go to &pizza. Half the fun of eating is eating with another person.

  So ive been without food for the last 5 weeks. Docs wanted to do a bowl rest where nothing goes through mouth except meds and water necessary to take them. For some days now I've been allowed to slowly add clear liquids. Basically one item a day, slowly increasing amount of liquids everyday while reducing my high dose steroids every few days. Clear liquids includes tea, chicken broth, italian ice, etc.

 Back to &pizza. We took lots of videos of the process. Such a good smell in the restaurant. So many toppings. I recorded the people there, my dad ordering, the food. Videos are great ways to save memories. While my dad ate, I had some sweet tea and cherry italian fruit ice. It was so much fun to just take him out and eat together after so long.

  Btw, I was readmitted to hospital 5 weeks ago for gvhd of the gut. More on that later.

 My dad hated the pizza but I think he enjoyed the experience. And then, of course he complained about the bad food afterwards and how I owe him another pizza. Blah blah blah.

 Ok, back in hospital now. Getting tired. Think im gonna stop for today. Anything I forgot to mention, sorry. Going to Tumblr now, starting new blog, posting on FB, bypassing parents (though I did ask my dad about it). Peace out.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Transfer - Wave Pt. 3

*Peter Parker x Reader

*Summary: Reader has become too much of a danger and hassle for the hospital to deal with ever since finding Steve, and now she’s being sent to an undisclosed location to further her imprisonment. 

*Warnings: Swearing (Is anyone surprised at this point?) Written by Admin R

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine

And so went the days. You’d be hooked up to the IV drip for no more than ten minutes before removing the IV and causing trouble. You ran through halls, trying to find anyone else that might’ve still had the energy to fight, resist, but you found no one. They all felt abandoned by the very people that they fought to protect, and saw no reason to even bother trying to escape. Your meetings with Steve were few and far between, you always disconnecting him from his IV, trying to help him get his strength back. They had tried moving him to a different room to stop these meetings, even posting guards at the door, but you were clever. You always managed to distract them, whether it was calling different codes over the intercom or even using your powers to make diversions for you to sneak into your mentor’s room. It was one of those meetings when Steve had seemed perkier than usual. “I think it’s working,” Steve told you, a renewed hope in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen in awhile. He’d been getting better since you’d gotten here, but there were still the off days.

“What?” you asked, not quite sure what he meant. You were no closer to escaping than you’d been when you first woke up in this hospital, all you were doing was causing trouble. But if he was getting his strength and energy back, then the two of you could work to do something.

“I’ve heard talk, they’re saying that you’re too much trouble to keep here. I think they’re moving you,” Steve replied. “If you escape on the transport, you’ll be able to find somewhere else to hide out and then tell everyone what’s going on.”

“How is it that you know I’m being moved before I know?” You asked, tilting your head slightly in confusion.

“Again, I heard people talking about it. Do you know where you’re going when you get out?” Steve asked, pressing for the information.

“I don’t know, I have family in Mexico so I might head out there. But I’m not all that good at geography so I might end up in the wrong place. Maybe I could go back to LA, we have a high enough population of homeless teens that I wouldn’t be noticed,” I told him, running through my top options. “But I don’t know how far we are from LA, so again with the whole geography thing.”

“Both of those seem like good ideas, but once you escape they’ll be looking all over for you, are you sure going back to your hometown is exactly safe?” Steve asked.

“If you were on the run, wouldn’t you want to be home in Brooklyn?” you replied with a knowing look. But maybe he was right, maybe it wasn’t safe for you to be back home, no matter how much you wanted to be. But with the talk of Brooklyn, it gave you an idea. “Maybe I can head out to New York. It might take me awhile to get there, but maybe Peter could hide me for a little before I start over.”

“That could work, have you been able to talk to him at all?”

“No, the computers only let me access the patient records, and they started putting more protection on that since they realized what I was doing,” you replied. “I haven’t exactly had a chance to warn him about everything. Do you think?”

“No, I don’t think Stark would let him get caught,” Steve told you, easing a bit of your nerves. Peter was a close friend, after all, and you didn’t want to even imagine him being in a place like this, no one knowing what happened to him.

“Knowing Pete, he wouldn’t’ve gone for the registry. Do you ever wonder what they told the world about us? Like, did they say we went missing or did they tell everyone that we were arrested? Maybe the world thinks we’re dead, and we can’t do anything about it,” you said, mood turning somber. “How long do you think we’ve been missing for?”

“I’m not sure, maybe a couple months at the most,” Steve replied, slightly taken aback by your sudden change of mood. “Maybe we-” he was cut off by the door opening.

“Okay, Steve, we’re going to- really? You’re in here again?” the doctor asked with a roll of her eyes as she noticed you. “Guys, she’s back,” she called back into the corridor.

“Well, see you later, Steve,” you said, jumping off the bed and taking off. The last time you’d been running around the hospital, you found some service corridors that you could possibly use. You took off in the direction of one of the entrances to them, hoping that you’d be able to explore them for a bit before you got caught. You rounded the corner, nearing the door as you heard the footsteps getting closer. You threw the door open the second that you touched the handle, slamming it behind you and essentially welding the door shut with your powers. “That should give me a bit of time,” you muttered, already looking around. You found a small roll of twine, taking it in hand and tying the end to a shelf near the door.

You walked along the corridors, taking turns and going up staircases. It wasn’t until you had reached a staircase with a single door at the end when you realized what you had found. You dropped the twine, setting fire to it to hide your traces. You opened the door, seeing the night sky for the first time in ages. You stepped onto the roof, looking around at what you’d found. You looked out around the hospital, trying to figure out where you were, but you could see nothing but miles of desert around you. “Okay, so this ranges from anywhere in Southern California to anywhere along the border, maybe Nevada,” you muttered as you racked your brain, trying to figure out where you could possibly be. “But that means that they took Steve from wherever he was and transported him to the other side of the country. Mexico wouldn’t go for letting America do this, so I’m probably not in Mexico. Steve, he can figure this out. No, I should try to find the nearest city or whatever. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Just as you were about to take off, using your powers to take you from the hospital, you were tackled, dropped to the concrete of the roof and injected with something that made you lose consciousness almost instantly.

When you woke again, you were unsurprised to find yourself back in your room, restraints around your wrists and the stupid spray on your hands again. You suppressed the roll of your eyes as the doctor from before walked in, false cheerfulness exuding from her as she looked at the clipboard in her hands. “Well, (y/n), it looks like you’re being moved from our facility!” Oh, so maybe it wasn’t false.

“That’s fun,” you replied in a monotone voice, looking up at the ceiling. “Can I know where, or is that classified like everything else in this shithole?”

“Well, we can’t reveal the exact location, but you’re getting moved to house arrest of sorts. You’re still in custody, but you’re just too much trouble to keep here in our facility,” she told you. You fought a bit to sit up, finally looking at the doctor. You knew that you were getting moved, but house arrest? That was really risky, especially for someone with powers. “You’re being transferred tomorrow morning, so be sure to say your goodbyes. Or, well, just stay here,” she laughed humorlessly, looking at your restraints.

“Oh, Doc, your humor is always without fail,” you replied in the monotone voice once again, not letting her know the excitement that was coursing through your veins. You had found a way for Steve to get out of this place, you were probably going to be able to escape, everything was just going your way. Which instantly made you suspicious. She left the room, briefly adjusting your meds before leaving, trying to give enough to knock you out. You sought the corner of the bedsheet, feeling around with your fingertips until you finally found it. You had hidden a scalpel under the edge of the bedsheet ever since the first time they put you in restraints left you powerless. You cut yourself free, taking out the IV before going to the door. You pressed your ear against the door, listening for movement on the other side. When you heard none, you left, making your way to Steve’s room.

“You were right,” you said the second you entered the room. “I’m being moved tomorrow, but it’s under house arrest at some place they’re not telling me.”

“I told you,” he said with a faint smirk. He had been hooked up to an IV again and held his hand out to you, motioning slightly. “A little help with this?” You nodded, going to take it out the same way you had yours.

“I hope you know how to do this on your own, because I’ve got a couple things to tell you before I go. I think I found a way for you to get out of here after I’m gone,” you told him, dropping the IV to dangle on its stand. Steve nodded, and you explained everything, the service corridors and how you found the exit. The desert surrounding the hospital, how that could place you anywhere in the southwest if you were lucky. It seemed like only minutes had passed, but before long the doctor came in with some security guards, ready to take you for the transport. The two guards had their hands on their tasers, ready to attack if you made any sudden move. “You guys can chill, I’m going willingly,” you said, holding out your hands.

“See you later, (L/n),” Steve spoke, nodding at you as you were cuffed and sprayed once again. You only smiled before they placed what you could only describe as a muzzle over your mouth, reminding you slightly of Bucky’s in those pictures of him as the Winter Soldier. The guards then dragged you out of the room, not that it was entirely necessary since you weren’t fighting. They put you back in your room, making you give them a confused head tilt since you couldn’t speak. A few seconds later, you felt the prick of a needle in your neck, knocking you out again.

The first thing you registered as you slowly woke up was the jostling of an uneven road. The next was the restraints around your wrists and the hard back of a chair. Your eyes flew open, taking in the sight of a prison transport vehicle, or what you assumed one looked like from the movies. “So you’re finally up,” someone across from you said. It was a guy that looked to be around your age, restrained similar to you, but minus the muzzle. “Well, I’m Sam, and for some reason they think I’m still enough of a danger to put under restraints, even though all my powers come from my helmet. My whole other thing is Nova, and I’m guessing you’re Wave since they have that whole muzzle thing on you.” You nodded, having heard of this guy from Peter, apparently they’d been friendly rivals while training with SHIELD.

“Yeah, great. So I’m guessing you were causing trouble over there too?” You nodded again. “Great, same story here. Maybe they’ll put us in the same place, that’ll definitely give them a run for their money,” he laughed with a small smile. “It’ll be great! Can’t wait until you can actually talk, I bet you have some crazy stories.” Sam kept chattering throughout the ride, keeping you entertained while the two of you were taken to wherever it was the driver was going. Before long, the truck came to a hard stop, cutting Sam off mid-sentence.

“Well, looks like we’re here,” Sam told you, smiling. “Once you get that muzzle off, you’re going to have to tell me all about Captain America and his team.” You nodded, your laugh muffled by the muzzle as the doors opened. A bigger guy came in, taking off the restraints and replacing them with handcuffs. You raised a brow at Sam who just shrugged, letting the guard do the same to him. The guard then led the two of you up to the house, a woman and an armed man standing at the door, waiting for the two of you. Sam gave a large grin the second that he realized the two of you were going to be staying in the same place. The guard dragged you and Sam into the house, leaving the keys with the two people. As soon as he left and closed the door behind you, the woman set on unlocking your cuffs and taking off the muzzle.

“Alright, let me tell you how things are going to work here. You are allowed to have minimal freedom, but if either of you guys try anything at all, my partner and I will not hesitate to shoot you. Now, welcome to your new prison,” she said, looking between you and Sam.

[docfuture]

The Maker’s Ark - Chapter 33

     [This is a chapter from my latest novel, a sequel to The Fall of Doc Future and Skybreaker’s Call.  The start is here, and links to my other work here.  It can be read on its own, but contains spoilers for those two books.  I try to post new chapters about every two weeks, but I’m currently also rewriting Fall, so there will sometimes be short stories and vignettes if I don’t have a new chapter ready.  The next chapter is planned for the week of February 7th.]

Previous:  Chapter 32

     So many false starts, so many dead ends--that might not be dead if Flicker could find the right way around.  But she'd searched too much, built too many fanciful models, contingent on details of theory Ashil couldn't explain yet and Journeyman was still trying to learn.  DASI was keeping all the data safe, but even the index was mindbending.  Flicker couldn't think it over properly in her head, because it wouldn't fit in her head.       And it didn't matter how fast she was if she didn't know where she needed to go.       Flicker stared at the ceiling in the darkness.  Donner slept beside her, his presence and steady breathing a calming influence--but not calming enough.  She was fully awake, and had plenty to worry about.  She wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon.       She got up carefully to avoid waking him.  She put on her costume and texted DASI.       DASI?  I'm awake.  Worried.  Need a distraction.  I want to work, but would be a bad idea to try.  Don't want any slow speed socializing either.  Help?       You have received an invitation, DASI replied after a short pause.  The high speed interfaces at either your home or Doc's Database node should be suitable for this, as long as you do not try to work or analyze data.       They would?  Flicker scanned the parameters.  Sounds like just what I need.  Just let me get to HQ for less lag.       Acknowledged.       Ghosting through the Rocky Mountains and western plains, she stayed below plasma generation speeds--unexpected ground level lightning bolts tended to dangerously distract drivers at night.  She did startle a few deer.       A few seconds later, Flicker hooked into the refined version of her high speed interface, and dropped into a full synthetic audiovisual environment, optimized for speed.  A text overlay floated in front of her, because Flicker still preferred that for commands.       You have entered virt chat 'Fast Women'.  Host:  DASI (Doc Future HQ)       Estimated lag:  DASI (9 ns), Three (2,450,000 ns, local emulation 850 ns), Black Swan (8,310,000 ns, local emulation 920 ns), Flicker (48 ns).       It looked just like a multi-window video chat to Flicker, but it was all virtual.  And faster, of course.  Light and information could travel about a foot in a nanosecond, and she was sitting right beside one of DASI's main cores.  DASI didn't have to worry about display or data entry delays, so her lag was about 40 ns less than Flicker's was.  Three was in the closest EDU ship in orbit, and Black Swan was somewhere in Europe.       There were colored progress bars, so Flicker could see who was lagged for which chat pulses--that made it easier to avoid cascading interruptions.  Three seemed to be talking about the recent joint military tests conducted by the EDU and the Grs'thnk, while Black Swan and DASI listened.       "The exercise went really well," Three was saying.  "Really well.  I don't think some of the Grs'thnk captains believed what I could do with the right support.  Their admiral did, though.  And man is Learning ever the right support.  We kicked ass.  Both of us are now hoping the Xelians try something, because they'd just be giving me more shiny new ships."       "So you talked afterwards?" said Black Swan.       "Yeah," said Three.  "That too.  It was technically a victory party, but his biogestalt crew gave us privacy--they're pretty cool that way.  Hi, Flicker!  Wanna hear about my new sweetie?"       "Sure," said Flicker.  All kinds of questions occurred to her.  "Isn't there a small problem with--I mean, you don't... Um.  Okay, I think I just set a new record for how quickly I can embarrass myself in a social situation--under half a microsecond."       Three laughed.  "Don't worry about it.  I'm in too good a mood."       Three had started as an adaptive prediction model of Stella inside the Database.  Flicker used those extensively to help her figure out what people were doing or wanted when there wasn't time to ask.  Dissatisfied with an 'insufficient data' during an emergency, Flicker had overridden several Database safety blocks, and DASI had added enough of Stella's recorded neural interface data to cause Three to grow into an active copy.  She'd asked DASI a few pointed questions, then called Stella to get a full memory transfer.       When Stella's body had been dead during the Xelian battle, and Yiskah was unconscious, Three had taken over the surviving ships of the Xelian fleet, which were now the EDU fleet.  They were her preferred home--though she thought of them as more like bodies.  She seemed quite happy as a fleet of ships; she was noticeably more cheerful than Stella.  She was 'Three' because 'Two' was Yiskah.  Three reintegrated and shared memories with Stella, and they coordinated when Stella was plugged in.       "That's good," said Flicker.  "Is he... nice?  It is a he, right?"       "Oh yeah," said Three, grinning. "Not shy, either.  Wonderful sense of humor, and he started flirting as soon as I made a joke about it.  Normally he's under a load of restrictions because of his job, but the big definition squabble during the first embassy ship visit settled that I count as a milspec biogestalt to their Auditors, so he's in the clear with me.  And he..."       Three shook her head.  "We aren't really serious yet, but--"       "Liar," said Black Swan.       Three laughed.  "All right, we are serious, but we haven't had a lot of time yet.  But there's so much we can talk about, and when he holds me--Oh. My. God.  It's...  Flicker would know."       "I would?" said Flicker, feeling more and more lost.  Had species been mentioned?  Did Grs'thnk have cyborgs?  Or was he a biogestalt?  That was the Grs'thnk term for electronic copies of biological minds, though theirs were usually groups.  Was he singular or plural?  Three was using a singular pronoun, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.       "Yeah, you would."  Three grinned again.  "It's a little personal, but we're all friends here.  Remember that memory you shared with Yiskah because you didn't have words for how you felt with Donner?  It was before she and Prime stopped integrating, so I got a twice removed copy."       "The kiss?" said Flicker.       "Just before the kiss.  That look Donner gave you after you saved his life?  How that made you feel?  That's how Learning makes me feel."       "Oh.  That."  One advantage of high speed emotion emulation was that Flicker didn't have to worry about blushing.  "Sounds... intense.  But I'm really missing context here--I'm sorry, I know I joined in the middle, but--"       "Show her the pic," said Black Swan.       "Good idea," said Three.  "Here he is--he was a little younger, on his shakedown cruise.  Sorry, it will take a couple microseconds to render for you, it's a high quality pic.  Isn't he handsome?"       Flicker took a moment to properly study the picture after it finished sharpening.       "He is pretty good looking," she said.  "For a starship."       Three laughed again.  "He is.  But you know what he said to say if you pulled 'for a starship' on me?"       "What?" said Flicker.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"       "'You're pretty good at aiming projectiles,'" Three quoted, "'For a bio.'"       "He's got a lot of nerve, saying that after what I did to the Xelian fleet with my rocks.  I don't see--  Oh."       "Yeah.  That's his sense of humor.  But don't worry about it.  Think of it as getting all your embarrassment out of the way now, with just us around."       "Um, okay.  But which ship is he?  You called him Learning, but--"       "He's the electronic warfare cruiser for the Grs'thnk guard squadron."       "I thought it was named 'Expanding Knowledge', or something like that."       Three smiled gently.  "That was just a rough translation.  The Grs'thnk navy finally gave in and started letting the AIs on new ships pick the ship names, because everyone ends up calling them after their AI anyway.  His is an idiomatic saying, and he translated it properly for me.  Learning is his nickname.  His full name is the GNS Learning Is About To Occur."       "That is a cool name."       Three grinned.  "Appropriate, too.  Generally when he is fully awake, either he is learning something new, or someone else is.  Both of us are, when we're together.  He's not the newest ship in the Grs'thnk fleet, or the most heavily armed, but he's probably the smartest, and Admiral Ghiralt really pushed to get him."       "The bigger ships aren't as smart?" asked Flicker.  "I'd think it would be cost effective to put the best computers on the dreadnoughts."       "That's not the limiter for AI capability once you get over a certain threshold.  And Learning says dreadnoughts don't necessarily have to be smart.  Just tough and loyal.  But he respects them.  His first teacher was an ancient dreadnought that was taken off active duty, refitted with proper AI support, and is now the main training ship for the Grs'thnk navy--everyone calls her the Old Lady.  He says she taught him moral responsibility and a lot of other things that are much quicker for an AI to learn from another one, rather than bios."       "Huh.  How much has he talked to DASI?"       "Informally?  Not at all--he's not allowed to.  He can send messages, but his biogestalt crew, a worried AI specialist team, and three sets of Auditors have to vet them first.  Same with her replies.  They're scared of her--and they're especially scared of what Learning might learn from her.  That's why the admiral had to fight so hard to get him assigned here."       "The official messages from Learning Is About To Occur have been very respectful," said DASI.  "Though they have a quirk;  English doesn't have a term of address he considers proper for me, so he uses a Grs'thnk one.  It's a formal second person collective plural social superior pronoun."       "You lost me again," said Flicker.       "Think 'Your Majesties' without the cultural baggage," said Three.  "And isn't that a wonderful load of subtext with one word?  He's great."       "Why are they so scared?  And why are they okay with you getting all cozy with him?  You basically act as DASI's biogestalt, not that she needs one."       DASI smiled and waited, and Three's image laughed after her lag time was up.       "They're scared because they haven't solved the Friendly AI problem, they're not sure Doc has either, DASI is an unfettered AI, and they think she might teach Learning things they don't know how to handle.  Like recursive self-improvement.  Or magic.  But biogestalts are their navy's safety system for AIs, and they can't argue I'm not competent as one.  And their admiral never wants to fight another space battle without my help."       "I never want to fight another space battle at all,"  said Flicker, "But it looks like I'm going to have to.  Hopefully with something better than rocks."       "Yeah, aside from the side effects if you use them anywhere with an atmosphere, they have an obvious countermeasure--stay away from whatever planet you're on.  And Learning says Grs'thnk navy doctrine is to engage as far as possible from any planet they're trying to protect.  He is a little curious about this new weapon you're building--and what you might possibly need it against."       "Reasonable.  Though I wish you didn't have to share any details until we know more.  I didn't want--"       "What details?  You've got a cryptic warning and a whole stack of speculation, which I assume is why you couldn't sleep.  But Learning figured out you're trying to make some kind of weird portal weapon or a black hole, just based on who you're working with and what you've done so far.  And when you start your runs on Europa, they're going to be damned obvious.  People will notice."       Flicker thought about that.  "Yeah.  But I'm trying to stay as disengaged as possible from anything political or diplomatic."       Three smiled.  "DASI and I are handling the Grs'thnk.  Easy enough, the ones here are all professionals.  And most humans are a bit distracted--someone else is getting in their faces in a lot more comprehensible way."       "Just doing my job," said Black Swan.       "As is Prime," said Three.  "But the squadron's job is to protect Earth against threats from space--like whatever is coming.  If your rocks won't work on it, it's not clear how useful their weapons will be, either.  But Learning's sensors and projectors will be handy regardless--some of his capabilities are pretty unreal.  And he wants to help.  So the two of us will be ready.  If there is any support he can provide while you're testing, just let us know."       "Thanks," said Flicker.  "Good sensor coverage from a distance might be more useful than I'm comfortable with."       *****       "Not in your workshop," said Doc.  "Or my lab.  Not on my planet.  Not on anyone's planet."       "You don't think it will work," said Journeyman, looking resigned.       He also looked a little scruffier than usual.  He was normally very dapper, but he'd called Flicker as soon as he'd double checked his projections, and she'd been eager to find out what Doc thought about what could be their first real breakthrough, so he'd skipped shaving.  Doc looked scruffy, too--but that was normal for him.  They were in his workshop, where he'd been working on a new shield generator based on his studies of the Xelian one.       "I think it quite likely will work, eventually," said Doc.  "At least in the sense that you'll get a portal to a subspace with that particular characteristic.  But if it does, you'll want to test it.  And that's where things gets tricky.  DASI?"       "Yes?"       "Upper bound estimate for the chance a portal transit by an extended object returning from an otherwise unrestricted subspace with a variable speed of light will trigger mass-energy conversion in all nearby matter."       "0.7%," said DASI, "Based largely on the uncertainty associated with the exact parameters of the final Grs'thnk Hyperspace Foundation probe event."       Flicker frowned.  "That was the one where the returning probe blew up?"       "It didn't just blow up," said Doc.  "It apparently converted at least 20% of the rest mass of the entire station they had housing their portal generator into energy.  The rest probably went into exotic particles that didn't get detected.  They were trying a tricky resonance with a questionable methodology, and all their sensors were destroyed, so no one is really sure what happened."       Doc shook his head.  "A 0.7% chance of ending the world is too high.  So all the tests should be in deep space.  It's not an emergency, and I'm getting too old for eschatological roulette."       Journeyman nodded.  "I thought you'd be more worried about false vacuum decay."       "Our vacuum is stable.  Otherwise I'd probably have ended the world when I was eighteen.  I wasn't always so careful."       "But I need to be there for the tests," said Flicker.  "And if they're in deep space..."       "Flicker, no one should be there for the first transit.  Journeyman should set it up, then get the heck out, and the two of you can watch from a safe distance while robots do it.  I'll help build the test rig."       Journeyman inhaled through his teeth.  "I'm not sure I know how to make the portal self-sustaining.  So I'd need to stay."       "I have to stay, too," said Flicker.  "I don't think anything material but me is going to be able to survive transit to a subspace with the gradient we want."       "Yes, and that's another problem," said Doc.  "But if it's in deep space, Journeyman can attempt a portal connection and measure everything without opening it if he succeeds.  Then disconnect, come home, and figure out how to make one that's stable without him.  At least for long enough to perform the dangerous first tests."       Journeyman looked unhappy.  "A lot more can go wrong if I'm not there.  But I can probably manage short term stability for tests."       "That's the spirit."  Doc turned to Flicker again.  "Now, about whether this is wise...  I can see why you might find a subspace with a lower speed of light useful.  Making it variable, with the boundary matching ours, is a very clever idea.  It might allow a non-catastrophic connection.  Might.  I assume you'd rely on your power and the Skystone to keep you alive inside?"       "Yeah," said Flicker.  "I sure haven't been able to come up with anything doable in our universe."       Doc looked down at the floor.  "It could work.  But there are so many, many things that could go wrong.  For one thing, you can't rely on probability manipulation working in a non-anthropic space, so the Skystone may not protect you.  Have you considered what a steep speed of light gradient will do to your body chemistry?"       Flicker snorted.  "What chemistry?  I'm going to be clamped down so hard that what electrons want will not be important.  I'll probably be losing my microbiome, all my hair, and my outer layer of skin anyway, just from the side effects of getting all the mass down to neutronium.  And I'm going to have to replace most of the flesh in my hands because of induced radioactivity from pressure transmutation--I can keep my nuclei in place, but I can't prevent extra neutrons from cuddling up if they really, really want to.  And they will.  Golden Valkyrie never said this would be easy.  Or painless.  Just possible."       Doc nodded slowly, looking old.  "I can't argue with that.  There's never any guarantee things will be easy."

Next:  Chapter 34