#than die because they couldn't wait for surgery any longer

[dollopheadedmerlin]

Mneh so I never was very good with my binding habits before surgery. Like, my dysphoria was so bad I wouldn't get out of bed if I wasn't putting a binder on, so I basically wore a binder every single day from dawn to dusk just so that I wasn't miserable and could actually enjoy my time.

And I don't regret it. Not at all. I never slept in my binder. I never double binded. I always wore the right size. But from the moment I woke up, I had to have one on or I was just constantly uncomfortable to an unbearable extreme. So I wore one, every single day, for 12 to 20 hours, for several years.

Sooo now I have flared ribs, and possibly slipping ribs syndrome.

But again. I don't regret it, because if I hadn't worn my binder the way I had, I would have spent a lot of those seven-ish years doing nothing but getting more and more depressed and sleeping. So it was essentially a trade off. Either bind improperly and develop some problems or bind properly but spend those years just sort of waiting for them to be over. That's why I honestly think maybe if people are asking for advice on how to bind unsafely but more effectively, it's probably more useful to list many options of varying levels of safe. If someone has to double bind or they're hate themselves too deeply to live with it, then I'd say it's best to try and find the safest way to get them as flat as possible, even if it isn't right way or the risk free way.

Anywho. That was all prerequisite to why I think I have slipping rib syndrome even though it seems to be fairly uncommon.

I haven't seen anyone about it yet, but my ribs get sore sometimes. Either from sitting weird, moving a lot, breathing hard, etc. They also just hurt when I'm tired sometimes. Aside from that, my lower back hurts often as well, but most pointedly, my ribs occasionally will just give me a random sharp pain.

I always thought it felt like they moved, like a rib would sort of shift into and awkward angle and that made it hurt, but I wasn't sure if my rib was actually moving or if that was just how I was interpreting the pain.

But now that I know about slipping rib syndrome I'm like 95% sure I have it. I got some rib pain at work and in the car today (it sounds worse than it is, many days they don't move at all, but today they just decides I have a party ig) and now that I'm looking for movement I'm like YEAH THAT MOVED.

TLDR; So basically my ribs are doing the electric slide all the time and risk assessment is important ig

[wonderland-smile-stories]

~ Chapter 8. 01 ~

I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes and how poorly written this fanfic is. English is not my first language and together with my dyslexia ass things can go wrong I'm sorry.

I was sitting against the piler in the underground garage watching Mister Han inspect the car for the very last time before Hyun-su, Sang-wook, and Yu-ri would go outside.

I was trying to keep my mind under control and not think about the worst-case scenarios. Ji-su and Eun-hyuk have decided to do the surgery, but they needed supplies for it.

That's why Yu-ri volunteered to come with the guys. She is the only other person who knows what we need to perform surgery safely. I'm just scared something will go wrong and we are going to lose someone.

But we can't wait to do this any longer.

Ji-su needs the surgery now or she will die no matter what.

My eyes looked up from my hands when I saw someone passing me. I watched as Sang-wook and Yu-ri began to make their way to the car ready to go out there.

I jumped up when Hyun-su came walking towards me.

"Are you sure about this? I can go and you can stay here to look after everyone." I blurted out.

I wish I could convince him to stay here instead, but he didn't want to it the first few times I asked him. He shook his head adjusting the strap of his backpack.

"No, you need to stay." I nodded my head knowing I couldn't change his mind.

Together we walked to the car in silence. I was just so scared that it would be the last time I would see him.

Before he could get in I grabbed his wrist.

"Hyun-su." He turned towards me with a confused look on his face.

Pressing my lips together I was debating what I should say to him. Before I could stop myself I pulled him a little forward and planted my lips on his cheek. I let them stay there for a second before pulling away a little and whispering.

"Be safe and come back, please."

When I pulled back a shocked expression was placed on his face. I thought that he would just stand there and look at me, but after a few seconds, he managed to get out.

"I....I will. And you stay somewhere safe, please." A small smile came to my face before I nodded my head.

I let go of his wrist before turning around to walk away. In doing so I almost bumped into Eun-hyuk who was standing right behind me.

I didn't want to stay there and see them leave so I just ignored him and began to make my way back up. I just hope that they come back safe.

Promising Hyun-su that I would stay at a safe place I made my way to Ji-su or the area where she would be operated.

She asked me if I could stay with her when it happened and I didn't want to let her down. When I arrived there everyone was already busy prepping everything.

Eun-hyuk wanted to start as soon as the three would be back with everything. We can't afford to lose more time. Before I stepped into the space where they would operate I put on a mask and some cloves.

Ji-su was already lying on the table looking worse than before.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I asked standing next to her.

Opening her eyes slowly she let out a sigh.

"Great, just great." I let out a little laugh.

"Everything will be fine. I'll stay here with you as long as you want me to."

She grabbed my hand before speaking up.

"Thank you Mi-na. I really appreciate it."

Eun-yu, Eun-hyuk, and Miss An came in.

"Are they gone?" I asked Eun-hyuk when he came standing at the table.

He nodded his head.

"Yes, we just need to wait now until they get back with the things we need." Let's hope it will be quick because Ji-su is looking worse with the hour.

A loud crashing sound that came from outside the building shocked us all.

"What was that?" Miss An asked the question that was on all our minds.

"Or plan must have failed," Eun-hyuk spoke up making my blood run cold.

No.

Hyun-su.

There was a monster waiting for humans outside! I knew it! I need to go there! I need to see if they are still alive! I was about to run outside when Eun-hyuk grabbed a scalpel from behind him.

Was he still going to do this, but she was still awake?!

A roar from outside made me jump before looking back at Eun-hyuk when he spoke up.

"I can't give you anesthesia. You could die from shock." My senses were in overdrive! I wanted to go outside and see if they were still alive and if I could help them, but I couldn't leave Ji-su like this! Not when Eun-hyuk was still planning to operate on her! I didn't know what to do or who to help first.

Even if I chose one or the other there is a chance people can die.

"Mi-na!" Eun-yu grabbed my arm pulling me back to reality.

"Help her!" My eyes went from her to Ji-su who had now a cloth in her mouth to help bite on for the pain.

"Me! I can't do anything to help her!" I argued back.

Eun-yu let out a scoff ripping my glove from my hand.

"Eun-yu that dangerous! She can get an infection!" Eun-hyuk spoke ready to cut into Ji-su's skin.

"Shut up!" She snapped back at her brother before she laid my hand on Ji-su's arm.

"Take her pain." A confused look came on my face. "

"What?"

Eun-yu let out another groan.

"Take her pain when she is being operated on! You did it with my ankle. You can do it with her now too!" I blink a few times at her before looking at the other people in the room.

I totally forgot that it did that. With everything that had happened after that.

"You can do that Mi-na?" Eun-hyuk asked looking at me intensely.

I shook my head.

"I....I don't remember how I did it. I can't say for sure that it will work!" I explained looking from him to Ji-su.

She had a pleading look on her face.

"Can you try?! Nobody will be mad if it's not working, but at least you will have tried." Miss An spoke making me look away from Ji-su.

I don't want Ji-su to be in pain or die from the shock. At least if I try and it works she has a little more chance to survive.

I let out a deep breath before looking at Eun-hyuk.

"Okay, I'll try."

Without waiting anymore he began to cut into Ji-su her muffled groans filled the room.

I could feel Eun-yu looking at me waiting for me to start, but I had no idea what I needed to do.

Wanting more touch I took the other glove off as well before grabbing Ji-su's hand and arm.

A gasp left my mouth when I felt her squeeze my hand tightly from the pain. I didn't want to see her suffer anymore so I quickly began to focus on her and the pain.

I focus my gaze on the place where Eun-hyuk was working on and the pain that it would cause. Soon black veins began to appear on my hands and the familiar cold feeling I had when I did this Eun-yu cane rushed through my skin.

This was much worse and stronger than it was with Eun-yu. Cold went to warm and it felt like each cell in my body was on fire.

A groan left my mouth making me squeeze my eyes shut. The sounds from Ji-su's mouth came to a stop making me hope that she wasn't feeling the pain anymore.

My whole body seemed to vibrate the longer it went on. There was wet liquid running down my nose and I was pretty sure that it was blood.

"Mi-na!" I hear Eun-yu say from beside me.

"I...I'm fine." I mutter out still having a tight grip on Ji-su who has lost hers.

I almost lost my grip when I heard a loud bang coming from outside followed by a loud growl.

I was hoping that Hyun-su, Sang-wook, and Yu-ri were okay.

The feeling in my toes and fingers began to faith, which made me panic, I did everything in my power to not let go of Ji-su.

It was like taking her pain was getting too much. This was too much energy for my body to handle. In the beginning, it helped me, but now it was like I was overflowing with power and energy.

The warmth turned into pain. Still not letting completely go of Ji-su's hand I took a hold of the table trying to steady myself.

"Mi-na let her go!" I hear Eun-hyuk say from in front of me in a stern voice.

"Is it done!" I spit out trying to hold it together.

"No, but you can't take much more!"

My eyes open looking right at him. I guess they were black because Miss An let out a gasp taking a little step back.

Even Eun-yu was shifting on her feet next to me.

"I'm not letting go until it's done," I growled, but it did not affect him.

All he did was look at me before going back to what he was doing.  

Another painful moan left my lips making me bend forwards. It didn't matter if I felt like this. If it means that Ji-su isn't feeling like this then I'm okay to suffer.

More blood was running down my mouth falling onto the ground and my shoes.

"Mi-na, you can let go. She's passed out." I looked up when I heard Eun-yu speak.

Ji-su eyes were closed.

At first, I thought that she had died from shock, but her chest was still going up and down.

"That's good. I need to..." I wanted to talk more, but my lips didn't want to work actually it seemed like nothing in my body wanted to work.

I felt my legs give out from underneath me before everything went black.

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Hey guys! I hope you guys like this chapter. So I have been writing for season 2 and I have to say that it is hard. Like, I have some ideas but it’s hard to find a storyline in it. If you have seen season 2 you know that there isn’t much of Hyun-su in it. They are building up for season 3 so they focused more on Eun-yu in this season. So I’m stuck with which direction I want my character to go. I can’t say much about what I’m writing because I would be spoiling the ending of this, but it’s just hard. Right now I have two different storylines I could write, well actually three….. So I’m just going to wait and see what is going to go best or just wait until season 3 comes out and see what’s that gonna bring.

[yourmidnightlover]

three, four squeezes

Summary- spencer finds watches you take what he thought was your last breath. turns out they weren't, but you're now in a coma. 

TW: coma, fem!reader, spencer pining, angst/fluff ig?, blood, gunshot

WC- 5,681

masterlist

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guilt.

regret.

pain.

fear.

spencer couldn't stop fiddling between as he rode with you in the back of the ambulance.

the guilt he felt as he realized that everything was his doing, his fault. if he wouldn't have froze and if he would've told you how he felt neither of you would be in this position.

the regret he had of never telling you how he felt. he never got to hold you as more than best friends and kiss you like he's wanted to so, so, so many times.

the pain of seeing you in so much pain. and the fear that worsened when you accepted the fact that you would die in his arms

the fear that the last time he held you was when you confessed your darkest secret to him. you never got to hear him tell you how much he truly loved you.

he took your much smaller hand in both of his and pressed it close to his chest, right on top of his heart as if he was trying to tell you what his heart had tried to make him.

he froze.

he shouldn't have froze.

he should've held you and told you how much he loved you. how much he wanted you. how much he's always wanted you.

he should've kissed you and never let you out of his sight. because maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't let you go then you would have never gotten hurt.

he was the reason you were dying.

he was lost in thought when the holter monitor held a steady, long beep. you had flatlined.

-

you felt the warmth radiating over your skin as you shifted in your position to sit up. you took in your surroundings.

you were in an endless pasture, filled with tall grass that would reach your knees if you had stood up. the sky was perfect, clear, baby blue color that you haven't seen in a while. you were laying on a red blanket with a picnic basket by your side.

the smell of fresh flowers and fresh grass filled your nose. the calming scent bringing you the peace that radiated around you as you observed further into this place.

you had on a flowy, pastel purple sun dress and a pair of white flats on. you turned your head to the side, only to notice you weren't alone.

"spencer!" you cheered excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into your touch. "you're here," you breathed out.

"i am here," you felt the vibrations of his chuckle. "but you shouldn't be here."

you pulled back and looked at him confused. "wh-why not?"

"because," he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gazed into your eyes. "you need to go back, sweetheart."

a rush of memories flooded your brain.

you confessed your past, your regret, your love.

he didn't love you back.

you were shot.

"i... i don't want to go back," you admitted with furrowed brows. "i want to stay here. with you."

he looked at you with what seemed to be pity. he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

"you can be with me back there. you know that," he said as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

"no, i won't. not-" you took a deep breath, "not like this."

"but this isn't even real. i'm just a figment of your imagination. you're disassociating with your body, and i'm your safe place," he said nonchalantly, as if hearing that didn't break your heart even more.

"but i want to be with you, spence. i've ruined everything out there. you don't want me," you spilled, letting a tear slip past your eye and down your cheek.

"i will always want you, y/n. always," he assured you as he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"how do you know?" you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"because i'm a genius. remember, sweetheart?" he chuckled.

"promise me?" you said as you turned around and held his hand, squeezing it in anticipation.

"i promise. go back, y/n. you need to go back." he repeated.

"not yet. just a little longer with you, please. just a little longer with you," you pleaded.

-

spencer had to let go of your hand so the doctors could get the defibrillator. he began shaking before he told himself to be strong. he had to be strong for you.

"please don't leave me..." he prayed for the first time in a while to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in. "don't die on me."

one of the paramedics ripped your shirt open so they could begin to start the chest compressions. spencer hated seeing you so helpless, lifeless, hopeless.

"charge to 260!" one of the doctors yelled before yelling clear and connecting it to your skin.

nothing.

"charge to 350!" she pressed it to your chest and abdomen one more time.

suddenly the monitor began beeping steadily again. you were alive. not okay, but you were breathing.

you had a heartbeat again.

you weren't leaving him yet.

"oh thank god!" he exclaimed as he watched the paramedics leave your side, allowing him to fill their void. he took hold of your hand once again and pressed his lips to it as he watched the paramedic on the other side of you monitoring everything going on with your status.

"thank you, y/n. thank you so much," he placed another kiss on your knuckles as he used his to wipe his tears away.

when you had made it to the hospital he decided to finally call morgan and garcia. he would let them know what happened, minus the whole love confession part, and ask them to alert the rest of the team.

morgan replied in asking if she was okay, and asked for the details later when he got there. garcia was just rushing to get out of her apartment and to the hospital to check on her 'little cherry blossom.'

garcia got there first no doubt breaking a few speed limits in the process, but he didn't mind because now he wouldn't be alone with his own mind. she engulfed spencer in her arms and let him sob it out as she did the same. she didn't ask what happened, she knew he would tell her when he was ready.

morgan took a bit longer, surprisingly. although, in his defense, he did live on the other side of town. upon arrival, he just placed a firm hand on spencer's shoulder and sat beside him in a seat, silently providing his own comfort.

jj was next to arrive. she was already in tears when garcia had called her to make her aware of the news. she gave spencer a tight hug before sitting beside garcia.

when emily got there she raced to jj to ask if they had any information yet, they didn't. she checked on spencer, making sure he wasn't losing his mind completely. she finally settled down and sat beside jj, placing a comforting hand on top of hers.

rossi and hotch arrived at the same time, they were both working late, finishing a few extra case files. they went around comforting the rest of the team, and made sure to pay extra attention to spencer.

everyone knew how close the two of you were. you were like bonnie and clyde, but rather you both solved crime instead of ensuing it. and they knew how much it pained him to see her in pain. even on cases when she would get wounded, spencer would pay the utmost care and attention to you.

spencer didn't say a word. he didn't say what happened. nobody asked. they sat in silence, with almost constant tears from the fear of losing you, waiting for answers to how you were doing.

after a few more hours, jj decided to ask the doctor yet again on any updates on your condition. she quietly got up after letting go of emily's hand and walked over to the front desk.

"ma'am," jj asked the receptionist, "is there any update on y/n y/l/n and her surgery. it's been a few hours now and we're getting wo-"

"y/n y/l/n?" a doctor came into the waiting room holding a clipboard, waiting for someone to claim her company.

spencer jumped up from his seat when he heard her name. everyone had refrained from using in fear of striking something in spencer. they didn't want to upset him more than he already was, so they just kept their mouths shut.

"yes?" he excitedly asked, feeling the sweat in his hands and the exhaustion overwhelming his body.

"she's out of surgery now. she's in a stable condition, but there's some bad news," the doctor grimaced as the others waited expectantly for the rest of the news. "she had a prolonged period of time without oxygen to her brain, she's now in a coma. we aren't sure when she'll wake up," the doctor finally spewed out. "you can go visit her now. maybe one at a time so she can decipher who's who. she can hear what you say, so make it positive and encouraging," he concluded.

spencer looked back at the team, waiting for them to signal that he could go visit her before following the doctor to your room.

spencer walked inside and saw you lying there, lifeless while barely alive. and it was all his fault. you told him it wasn't his fault. in what you thought were your last moments, you wanted him to be at ease. while you were bleeding out from his stupidity, you still claimed your love that he never told you he returned.

and for that he would never forgive himself.

oh, what he would give to hear your laugh again. to see your smile, feel your touch, smell your hair once more. he wanted you back.

so he did the only thing he could do. he sat by your side and grabbed your hand for the millionth time and held it to his cheek, trying to feel your warmth.

"hi, y/n," he started off, deciding to give this whole 'encouragement' thing a try. "there are a lot of studies on whether or not someone can hear whilst their in a coma, but i'm going to try it anyway," he tool a deep breath.

"you're the strongest woman i know, and i meant it when i told you that earlier tonight. i know that you can get through this. i want you to know that i'll be here for you every step of the way. i promise. i-i'll take off every day until you wake up. i have to take a sabbatical anyway, so i can just ask them if i can take it early. if i can't then i'll make garcia come here every single day and i'll call her so you can hear my voice," the tears filled his eyes once again.

"i-i need you here with me, y/n. please," he begged for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"spence," jj called from the doorway. "would you mind if we all talked to her for a minute? then you can come back? i need to get back to my boys now that i know she's going to be okay," she said with a bit of guilt at the thought of her being able to go home.

home to her husband and children.

y/n has always wanted children. she'd be such an amazing wife, and an even better mother. spencer wanted the chance to witness her being a mother first hand, and maybe even being the mother to his own children.

he wanted to give her everything she's ever wanted. he wanted to stay with her until he was forced to have to leave.

truth be told, the day you walked into the bau, you changed his life forever and he didn't even know it. he thought it was just going to be another temporary fill in, until you performed so well at your job that the bau just had to hire you permanently.

you're so amazing at everything you do. everything you've ever done. you always push yourself to be and do your best, something spencer has grown to love and admire you for.

so he just hopes you have a reason to fight. a reason to fight for your life, to fight for him. he hopes that you have hope.

"yea, of course," he pressed his lips to your knuckles one more time before leaving the room, hugging jj on the way out.

garcia was right outside the door, waiting for spencer to come out so she could give him a hug. she wrapped her arms around his torso as his went around her shoulders.

"she's strong, spencer. she'll get through this," garcia tried to comfort him.

"you should've heard her. she-she sounded like she was ready to give up hen she was lying there, bleeding out on the ground," spencer pulled back to look at garcia. "i can't lose her. n-not now."

"you won't lose her," she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before he nodded to her and walked back into the waiting room, being met by emily's own embrace.

"i'm not gonna tell you how strong she is, because i think we all know that by now. but you can talk to me, reid. that's what you have to know. you can talk to any of us," she consoled before pulling back, her hands still gripping his shoulders tightly.

"sh-she told me she was in love with me," he said out loud for the first time.

"what?" emily's eyes widened at the realization before she pulled his hand to go into an empty room. "explain, please?"

"she told me she was in love with me," he repeated. "and i froze," he sighed.

"you froze? what do you mean? i thought you loved her too?" she pondered, a confused look clouding her face.

"how'd you know that? and yea, i do love her. i love her so much it hurts," he looked down at his feet. "i didn't say it back because i couldn't believe it was happening. i-i mean have you seen her? she's the definition of perfect and she said she loves me."

"oh, spencer," she said before giving him another hug, allowing him to break down in her arms.

"she walked out after that," he grimaced. "when i started walking back to my place that's when i heard the gunshot and called the ambulance. then i noticed it was her and i broke. it's my fault she was out there. if i would've told her how i felt she would've been in my arms and safe. instead, she's in a coma because i was too confused to say anything," he vented.

"it's not your fault, reid. you have to know that," she said before pulling back. "it's the guy who shot her's fault. not yours. you didn't pull the trigger."

"i might as well have. she doesn't know how i'm in love with her," spencer whined, feeling more hopeless than he did when he was kidnapped and drugged.

because at least then, he knew the team would be coming for him.

but he didn't know if you ever wanted to come back.

when you were lying there, dying, it was like you were saying goodbye as he held you in his lap. his hands, pants, and even shirt were covered in your blood.

he hadn't even noticed. he didn't care to notice. you were the only thing on his mind. everyone else knew he wouldn't leave without knowing your condition, so they didn't bother telling him to go clean up. emily noticed him eyeing his own appearance.

"go change. i'll call you if we have any updates. relax, please. she's not going to leave you," emily said before shooing him away to clean up.

spencer went to his place to change quickly and take a shower after morgan gave him his hoodie to wear on the drive there. meanwhile, emily walked out into the waiting room and took notice of morgan in his own worry.

"she'll fight. we know she will," emily confirmed as she walked to sit beside him.

"i know she will, but i'm also worried about the kid," morgan moved his head out of his hands as he looked at emily. "he told me how he was in love with her. and i'm willing to bet this has something to do with that. he's been through so much, he doesn't deserve to lose another person in his life."

"i know, you're right. he doesn't deserve this, nobody does, but he especially doesn't deserve this," emily said as she put her hand over his back, rubbing it soothingly.

"i'm gonna see if i can have my turn talking to y/n," he stood up and walked to your room, taking notice of jj still inside and penelope waiting patiently.

he wrapped his arms around garcia and let her cry as jj finished up inside before exiting and saying her goodbyes to everyone, allowing penelope to have her turn to talk with you.

showering helped spencer more than he thought it would. being covered in your blood was more frightening than he thought, so seeing his own skin on his hands was much easier for him.

he drove himself back to the hospital, wanting to avoid more prying eyes of cab drivers taking notice of his obvious grief and panic.

when he walked inside, hotch was inside your room with rossi, despite the 'one-person-at-a-time' rule. he knocked on the outside of the doorframe, alerting the two of his presence.

"kid. hey," rossi came up to greet him, giving him a quick hug before hotch did the same.

"reid, we know how close you two are, so just know that she's probably fighting to get back to you, the rest of us too, but especially you," hotch declared with a pity grin.

"i hope you're right," he glanced back in the room to look at you. "i really hope you're right."

spencer walked back into your room after the two older men left. he scooted the chair closer to your bed and held your hand. he crossed his arms on top of your bed, your hand still in his, and laid his head down on his arms.

he waited.

and waited.

and waited.

there was no progress.

he wanted you to come back to him. he wanted to feel your touch again and hear your laugh. he wanted to tell you how he felt. he just wanted you.

he was able to work at home on the few cases they received, and took his paperwork to your hospital room when he wasn't able to finish it as quickly as normal.

as the weeks went by, his hope began to dwindle, but his determination only grew. he was determined to be able to tell you how much he loved you while you were awake, so he refrained from spilling his guts while you were still unconscious.

he would read you books. your favorite books. the books you would ask him to read to you when you were feeling sad and wanted to hear his voice to calm you down.

he played your favorite songs. the songs you and him listened to on the way to work or to museums he would beg you to go to with him.

he even played chess with you. granted, he was more so playing himself acting as you. he would try to play whatever moves he felt you would play against him.

he cried with you. he cried for you to come back to him. he cried that you never stop fighting. he cried that he would get at least one more time to talk to you.

but one day the doctors noticed that you were able to breath on your own. they were able to take the tube out of your mouth and throat and nose. that was his hope. your strength was his hope.

he sped to the hospital that day, wanting to see you as soon as he could. it had been three weeks since the shooting, and he desperately needed the sight of your chest moving up and down voluntarily, a sign of your own breath breathing life into your body.

emily just nodded her head at him to go when he stormed into her office, she had received the same call seconds earlier.

when he came into your room, he as already in tears at the new progress. he brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"keep fighting, y/n/n. you're so close to coming back to me, to us, to the team. please keep going," he begged as he sat down by your side. "i got the call about you being able to breath on your own, and i ran into emily's office. she didn't even need to say anything, she knew it was you," he smiled momentarily.

"i can't wait to be able to hug you again, and feel your warmth again. i uhm, i never told you this, but we've kissed," he smiled at the memory. "it was that night you were drunk and told me about your parents. you had kissed me after i told you how beautiful and amazing you were, and how wrong your parents were. i kissed you back, too," he gently bit his lip at the confession. "i-i didn't tell you because... i shouldn't have kissed you back. god, i've always wanted to kiss you, but not when you were drunk and vulnerable. i felt like i took advantage of you, and i hated that i did that to you. so, i never told you," he frowned at the hidden secret.

"but please, please, please come back to me. please let me kiss you for real this time. let me tell you how i feel, and hold you forever and ever. please just don't leave me. i won't be able to take that, y/n. i know how selfish that is, but i can't live without you. these past few weeks without hearing your voice has been hell," he frowned.

he had called your phone every day since the shooting just to hear your voice on the voicemail. those 29 words have been one of the things he's loved listening to when he woke up. he'd never admit it, but you'd realize it once you checked your phone.

another thing he loved doing was look through his videos of you. in one particular video, maybe even his favorite, you had taken his phone and began recording him on it.

you knew he hated his own appearance, although you'd never understand why, so you secretly took his phone and began recording him.

"hey spence! can you come here?" you called as you were in the living room, waiting for him to bring you your chicken tandoori.

"yup! i'm coming!" he came racing out with the two boxes of takeout, giving you one as he sat on the couch. he didn't even notice the phone with how you placed it in your hands.

"thanks handsome," you teased, although you meant every word you said. his face automatically blushed at the compliment, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless.

"oh, shut it," he said before stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth. you giggled at his reaction, his favorite sound in the world.

"never. i don't know why you think you aren't attractive. you're so beautiful, spence, i'm surprised you don't already have a special someone," you nudged him with your elbow, the phone now being rested against your thigh to get a perfect view of him. you could see the smile he tried to hide by biting his lip gently.

"but i guess that does mean i get to spend more time with you, so i won't object," you laughed out before finally taking a bite of the food.

spencer noticed the phone on your thigh after you took a bite, his eyes widening at what he realized you were doing.

"y/n! why were you recording me?!" he exclaimed, trying to grab the phone and succeeding. he turned the camera on to you as you began laughing loudly at his reaction. "what do you have to say for yourself, ma'am?" he questioned.

your smile was brighter than ever, your face red from all the laughing. you were wearing one of spencer's sweaters, your favorite one. you had taken a couple because 'they're cozier' than yours. you put your hands up in surrender.

"i guess you caught me, hot stuff," you laughed before he placed the phone down and began his tickle attack on you. "ahhh! spencerrrr! please!" you laughed out. "i surrender!" tears of laughter were streaming down your face.

"fine. i think you've paid your penance," he joked before grabbing the phone and turning the camera on only you once again, you blushing from the action. "y'know you're really beautiful, right?" you smiled widely at his confession, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

"thank you, spencer. so are you, truly beautiful," you smiled even wider before he finally turned the camera off.

he remembers that day like it was yesterday. he'd like to claim it was because of his eidetic memory, but it was also because of you.

you had gotten the weekend off and decided to spend it together, once again. you had stayed the night with him all weekend, you insisted on sleeping on the couch to which he objected, forcing you to take the bed with him.

you had woken up cuddled in each others arms, facing each other like you had been hugging the whole night. spencer felt the most content he had ever felt in that moment, never wanting to let you go or wake you, so he waited for you to wake up.

that was the best weekend he's had in a while. you two acted as if you were in a relationship, domestic. it was delightful.

there was another picture the two of you had taken after a rather successful case.

all the missing children were found safe, a rare occurrence, so you had gone out to a bar to celebrate. it was mostly emily, morgan, and garcia's doing, so you had all eventually agreed once you figured out they wouldn't back down.

you had known how spencer was at bars, he was sometimes rather uncomfortable with all of the people. it made him anxious and a bit intimidated. so after you had all met up at the bar and you noticed how nervous he was, you intertwined your arms and took his hand in yours.

"my mom used to do this thing when i was anxious or nervous to calm me down," you whispered, wrapping your other arm around his one as you squeezed his hand three times. "it's supposed to be our way of assuring the other. a way of saying i'm here," you explained before he squeezed four times in return, your brows furrowed. "what does that mean?"

"i-it could mean i'm glad you're here," he grinned as he noticed the smile that erupted on your face from his kind words.

and you didn't let go all night.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me," spencer wailed. he felt your hand squeezing his as he held it, making his encouragement the entire reason you came back to him.

-

"spence, you're making a mess," you giggled, wiping the corner of his lip free of the chocolate you two were eating, still in that heavenly place.

"i'm sorry! it just tastes really good," he smiled back as he watched you lick the chocolate from your thumb.

"mm, you're right. it does taste really good," you nodded your head. "so i'm taking all of them!" you grabbed the box full of chocolate and began running. looking back to see spencer chasing after you, you bursted into a fit of laughter.

the tall grass tickled your legs slightly, the breeze lifting your dress a tiny bit as you continued to jog ahead of him, teasing him with your laughter. he finally caught up with you, taking you down with him as you both giggled.

“you got me, dork,” you laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. 

“of course i do! did you expect anything less?” he said arrogantly, you rolled your eyes. 

“never from you, doctor,” you teased as he pulled you in closer to him, you nuzzled your face into his neck as he admired the view around him. suddenly he stood up, the chocolate box in hand, and began running. 

“you little tease!” you shouted before getting up to chase him as he did you previously. “spencer reid, you’re so gonna get it!” you laughed out

"don’t leave me," he turned around to face you and called out, suddenly you felt a pang in your stomach where you had been stabbed.

you made eye contact with him, a look of shock and horror on your face as you tried to figure out what was wrong before you collapsed to the ground.

"sp-spencer? what's happening?" you asked as he pulled you into his lap.

"it's been two weeks y/n, i-i miss you." he began. "i know you're right here with me, but i miss your voice. and your laugh-"

"spencer i'm right here. i was just laughing with you," you tried to interrupt his monologue.

"and i miss the way your hair would crowd my face as we slept and how it would make me wake up. i miss hugging you and-"

"spencer please, i'm here," you cried, squeezing his hand as hard as you could to signify your presence.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me."

-

"y/n! can you hear me?!" he exclaimed, you squeezed his hand once more, a little tighter than the last time. "oh my god! oh thank you so much, y/n," he cried as he kissed your knuckles once more, your fingers twitching in the process.

"doctor. we need the doctor!" he said as he pressed the nurse's button. "she's squeezing my hand. her fingers started twitching!" he said excitedly as the nurse entered, exiting to get the doctor.

you squeezed his hands three times, him returning with four times. you understood what he meant. his eyes were trained on your face and he saw as your lips twitched upwards in a smile.

the doctor came in to perform a few tests and forced him to release your hand. he asked you to squeeze his hand once more, you followed suit. the doctor noticed your nose twitching and neck beginning to turn.

"she's gaining control over her body again. this was predicted once we found out she could breath on her own, we just didn't think it'd happen this quickly. a recovery this soon after removing the tube is almost unprecedented," he said in awe of your strength.

"she's the strongest person i know. it's no surprise that she's recovering this fast," spencer said as he took hold of your hand again.

"indeed. she should regain full control over herself within a few hours or by overnight at this point. go easy on her, she's still recovering from being shot. i also need to observe the bullet hole on her stomach, but you could stay for that if you'd like." spencer nodded as the doctor raised the hospital gown.

there was deep bruising around the bullet hole and a scab over top. your stomach looked smaller than it had the last time he'd seen it, a result from you having to be fed through a tube. you were unbelievably pale, no surprise there either because of the lack of sunlight.

"it's healing nicely, the scab looks healthy and the bruising is getting better. she's a fighter, this one," he smiled at spencer.

"you have absolutely no idea," he said, not breaking his eyes from your beautiful face.

the doctor left swiftly after charting her vitals and giving her a shot of her vitamins. spencer sat back down in the chair and held your hand once again, waiting for you to fully wake up so you could once again be in each others' arms.

later that day, at around 11:50, your entire body began shifting. spencer sat up straight away, trying to held you in any way possible.

"that's it, y/n! come on, you can do it, y/n/n," he cheered you on, smiling so hard he felt his eyes prick with tears. you turned onto your side, towards spencer, and your eyes had began to twitch open.

"sp-spencer?" you questioned once your eyes were fully open.

"yea, yes. it's me. i'm here. i'm right here," he wrapped his arms around you, adjusting his grip after you grimaced from his tight hold. "i'm never leaving. i'm never letting you leave again," he ranted out, placing a hand on the back of your head as you wrapped the arm that didn't have an iv around his body, pushing your head to nuzzle into his neck.

"i'm so sorry. i never should've left you there," you cried into his arms.

"it's okay, y/n. it's not your fault at all," he soothed as his hand started stroking your hair gently. "i'm so glad you came back to me. thank you so much," he sighed as he gently placed a kiss on your head."

"you really think i would go that easily? i thought you knew me better than that, dumbo," you laughed out.

"i'm glad to see you still have that sense of humor in you," spencer scoffed, followed by a bright smile.

"oh that's not going anwhere, spencer. and neither am i."

@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup​

[yunho-es]

Member/s: Wooyoung (ATEEZ)

Genre: soft

Warnings: swear words

Words: 2043

Before reading, I want you to know that I don't use any names or Y/n's because I know many people don't really insert their names, they read it as Yin 😂 I also write in first person pov because I think it's easier to read and imagine yourself in that situation

Beads of sweat slowly rolled down my forehead as I pulled out a piece of paper from my sleeve. I knew that the exam would be hard, but I wasn't expecting it to be this detailed. Thank God my friend made me write it all on a small piece of paper. At least I will get a positive grade. Of course he made me do it, he passed the school with those. Thankfully, he didn't go to medicine school. If I ever ended up on his surgery table, I would die.

Three more minutes until the end and one more question unanswered. The teacher noticed me shifting in my seat, but she knew I always get good grades. She finally stopped looking at me and gave her attention to a group of boys trying to switch their papers. I glanced one more time at the piece of paper and put it back in my sleeve. Just as I finished the answer, the bell rang. Half of the class groaned, probably because they didn't manage to finish in time. I took my backpack and left the paper with my name on the main table.

"Good job! Honestly, your exams are always my favorite to grade. I'm really happy to have a student like you."

"Thank you, Mrs Johnson. See you on Monday."

Once I got outside I noticed the sky already getting dark. It was just 5 pm and winter was already doing it's job; the roads were wet and slippery from mixed rain and snow and it must've been under 0 Celsius. Usually I walk home because it's not far away, but my school uniform, rain and cold weather didn't go well together. I was just about to call my roommate when I felt car lights on me, followed by a familiar voice.

"I think quicker than you do." Wooyoung smiled as he opened the door. "Get in please I don't want to spend the next week taking care of an annoyingly picky roommate. I have plans to get drunk and do something stupid."

"You do stupid things anyway without drinking. So save the money and the time. And oh, save me from embarrassment." I get in the car sticking my tongue out at him. "Did you cook anything? I'm starving."

"No, of course. I slept the whole day." I look at him, hoping to see a smile on his face that would give me a sign that he's joking. "Don't look at me like that, I was tired from the night shift. I'll take you to McDonald's." he drove out of the school parking.

"I don't want trash, Wooyoung. I want food." I groaned. He told me that he would try cooking something, but it's been a week and he didn't do anything. "Please buy some pasta and tomato sauce I'll make something."

"Honestly, I really don't feel like waiting. And McDonald's is f**king awesome!" his hand reached out to turn on the radio. "How can you not love the little purple box full of 12 golden beauties?"

It did sound good, but we haven't eaten any "real" food for a month and my stomach started to ache. Living with Wooyoung has its bad and good sides, the bad sides mainly being his laziness and stubbornness. Speaking of stubbornness, of course he took the left turn towards McDonald's.

"What do you want?"

"What a polite way to ask me. You've loosened up I see." I frown at him. He rolls his eyes dramatically and turns towards me with his whole body.

"Your Highness, what do you wish to consume today?"

"That's just too much."

"What the h*ll do you want? I'm taking 3 burgers and fries and you aren't touching them." the brown haired boy points his finger towards my face. I squint my eyes at him, then bite his finger. "Crazy woman."

"Hello, may I take your order?"

"Hello, yes. I'd like a..."

***

"Is this place good enough for the Queen?" Wooyoung spoke with his mouth full of fries and ketchup. We sat on the roof of his car on a parking lot near a river. The place is good enough for the Queen.

"Eat before you speak, what's wrong with you?" I laugh at him, seeing that he spilled the ketchup on his t-shirt. "No girl will want you like this."

"To be honest I'm not interested right now." he replied immediately.

I'd lie if I said that my heart didn't sink a bit. Whoever said that boys and girls can't be friends was right. One side always catches feelings, big or small. In my case, I believe it's a small crush. He's the only boy I hang out with, so that must be why.

"Why?" I allow myself to ask.

"I had a little crush on a girl but I had to give it up." he kept stuffing his mouth with food, trying to avoid the conversation.

"And...?" I look at him expecting more. But he keeps his mouth shut and folds the paper of the burgers in his hands.

"Are you thirsty?" Wooyoung offers a can of soda, still looking at his fingers.

"Yes, thank you." he opens the can for me, first taking a sip himself, then giving the green beverage to me. I drink the whole can almost immediately.

"You could've said earlier that you were thirsty, I had water in the car." his tone visibly changed. He sounded more serious now, as if he just wanted to go home and lock himself in the room. "Want another one?" he reaches for another can.

"I think I have one more sip here." I throw my head back trying to drink every single drop of the refreshing juice. I slowly started to lean back, forgetting that I'm not in the chair but on the roof of the car. "Sh*t!" I curse as I almost fall on the rocky floor.

"Hey!" Wooyoung quickly reacts and grabs my hands, pulling me towards him. All the empty cans rolled down on the floor, making loud noises. "You good?" he asks, eyes on my face.

His hands felt so warm around mine. I really didn't want to let go. "I'm good." I pull away, trying to get down to collect the cans.

"Leave the d*mn cans there. You almost fell down. Do you see those rocks down there? What if you hit your head? What would I do?"

"I'd pay to get your car cleaned from my blood, Wooyoung." I laugh, but when I notice that his face didn't change, my smile drops. "What's wrong? Why isn't it funny when I say something like this?"

"Behind all these jokes you have to understand that you are very important to me and I have a soft spot for you. If anything happened to you my life would stop. I'm a serious man behind all my sarcastic jokes. Please watch yourself, because I can't do it all the time. It takes a second to turn a peaceful situation into a disaster."

I stare at him with my mouth a little open. I'm surprised at his words, I never heard him talk like this. I manage to say a sorry, turning my head away from him.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed like hours, he got down and picked up all the cans, then offered me his hand. "Be careful." I put my hand in his, slowly getting down on the floor. "What dumbass even puts these rocks on the parking lot?" he picks up a few of them and pushes them away, leaving the bigger and heavier ones where they were.

"I think because they don't want someone else to have the spot." I watch as he tries to move a few more rocks. "Leave it, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let's just go back home, please?"

"Alright." he leaves the rocks and opens the door for me. Then he proceeds to enter the car himself. "But just for the record, I could've moved those rocks." his lips curved in a small smile. He can't help himself.

***

It suddenly became quiet in the house. Wooyoung layed on the sofa, watching the TV, and I sat on the floor behind the coffee table with my back leaning on the sofa.

"I'm a bit disappointed that we didn't take any photos." I pouted, scrolling down my Instagram feed. He didn't respond. I kept quiet for a few more minutes, then broke the silence again. "Do you think you could pick me up tomorrow from school again?" again, no answer.

I turn around towards him and see that his eyes are closed. He fell asleep while watching the TV. I took a blanket from my room and layed next to him under it. It's not my first time napping with him, but most of the time he refuses. He says that he is a kicker in his sleep and that he doesn't want to hurt me.

The sofa in our living room is quite small so I have to basically lay on Wooyoung. Just as I close my eyes, I feel his hand around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. Now my head was on his chest and I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. This must be what heaven feels like. Usually when we sleep like this together, it takes us a few hours to fall asleep. Mainly because he can't stop making jokes and I can't stop laughing. But this is different. It's calm. It's beautiful.

I couldn't tell if he was asleep or just pretending. He held me close and rubbed my back slowly. "Wooyoung?" I tried calling.

"Hm?" he responds sleepily.

"Are you okay?" I look up at him. His eye are still closed, but his fingers are still drawing tiny patterns on my waist and back.

"Mhm." again, I receive a short answer. When I try to move and give him some space so he can sleep peacefully, he opens his eyes to look at me. "Please don't move. I want to sleep like this." one of his hands moved my hair from both of our faces. "Please?" he asked, almost whispering.

I have never witnessed this side of Wooyoung. His voice was different, his movements were different, his eyes were different. This is the Wooyoung I wanted for myself, but couldn't have him. It took me a few longer seconds to realise that we are staring at each other, doing nothing but breathing quietly. Once his hot breath fell on my lips I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh. Right now, I hoped for one thing to happen.

"Why can't I have you like this every day?" his soft voice whispered. I try to speak, but as soon as I move my lips, I feel something soft brushing against them. My breath stops and I force myself to open my eyes. He's looking down at my lips as if thinking if the next step is smart to do. I allow myself a moment of bravery and I put my hands on his chest, getting closer to him. "F**k it." he mutters, finally putting his hands on my cheeks and pressing his lips against mine.

His lips must've been the softest thing to exist on this planet. I tried to move, but my body was frozen. I couldn't do anything, just lay and enjoy the softness and the warmth of his lips. He pulled away for a second, trying to say something, but when he didn't succeed, he went back to the older position. Then, again, he pulls away.

"You are so sweet. You taste like I always imagined." the red cheeked boy whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against mine.

"More, please." I manage to say. My lips and throat are dry, my mind is going crazy, and my stomach is witnessing fireworks. Wooyoung smiles, still not letting go of my cheeks. "Please." I get impatient.

He leans in again, this time kissing me with more passion. It stopped being sweet and soft, now only one word existed in my mind: more. And he happily listened.

[midnight-lightning]

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.  

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.  

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

 Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.  

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.  

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to  intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin. 

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.” 

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

[dimension-after-dark]

Belphagor and his regrets

This could be considered a sequel to my other drabble

It has all of the same warnings which I will list here once more as a precaution.

Tw: Graphic Hanahaki, flowers growing from the body, and major character death.

Belphagor was having trouble sleeping strangely enough, his chest was hurting. It wasnt like anything hed ever felt but he wasnt too worried, he is a powerful demon lord after all. But that didn't help the fact that he couldn't sleep nor did it stop the pain.

He was starting to wonder if he should try to find the exchange student, they made it much easier to sleep. As he lay there thinking about the exchange student and just how good they were at cuddling, his chest started hurting more.

He started to cough and cough, a small petal tinged with his blood can out of his mouth. It was white and he didnt recognise the flower it came from. He hadnt ate anything with flowers in it nor were there white flowers in the garden that he could have ended up breathing in his sleep.

Just as Belphie threw away the petal Beel walked in, he was worried since he felt belphies pain through their bond. "Belphie?"

"I'm ok Beel, just coughed a bit."

"I smell your blood so don't lie to me belphie."

"I coughed up a flower petal, other than that Im fine."

"Thats bad Belphie, we should ask Lucifer about it."

"No I will not ask him anything! If you want me to ask someone I will ask Satan, he has a lot of books anyways. I can just say I thought I heard someone talking about it." Beel acquiesces because he trusts his brother to take care of himself, he should not have but he did.

After a bit longer of trying and failing to fall asleep belphie got up and went to Satan's room. After knocking on the door, "Come in, unless your Lucifer."

"I couldnt be further from that asshole, I just had a question is all." He says as he walks into his simultaneously older and younger brothers room.

Satan is standing in the middle of a large pile of books looking for one of them, "What is your question? Im looking for a volume of curses to use on Lucifer."

"Have you ever heard of coughing up flower petals?"

"Why? What do you mean by coughing up flowers? The only thing that comes to mind would be the hanahaki disease but that only happens to someone suffering from unrequited love."

"That sounds stupid, how do you cure it? It cant be that hard right, it sounds like something from one of Levis animes."

"Its very real and there are two ways to cure it, a confession with the feelings requited or a surgery removing the feelings. The surgery usually removes all feelings and sometimes even memories of the person in question, that is of course if it doesnt kill you."

"Thanks Satan, I'll leave you too it here. I need a nap."

"You should know that the sooner you get the surgery the better, also confessing is always the better option."

"I don't love anyone like that Satan, you mean romantic love don't you?"

"The most common cases are romantic but platonic and familial are also possibilities, albiet much more rare and often harder to cure."

"Well I'm off too nap now, I don't feel any unrequited love so stop worrying about it." And with that Belphie leaves a worried Satan in his room.

" I don't love anyone new do I?" The only person to come to his mind was the exchange student but he couldnt love them, he killed them after all.

But that didnt stop the coughing fit that started as the random though of kissing them popped into his head. Another petal white as his wings used to be, covered in his blood a dark color next to the pure white.

There were more petals coming out and so Belphagor retreated to the attic for privacy as he thought about his feelings. He knew a confession would probably end in him being rejected, who could love their murderer after all?

Laying the attic bed bloody lips and petals all around him he heard someone climbing the stairs. It was the exchange student, based on the footsteps and the fact that he could hear them calling his name as they climbed the stairs.

The petals were hidden before the human could make it up and Belphie knew what they were now. Crocus one of the first flowers of springtime, the humans decided that it meant a lot of things but it amounted to general positivity and happiness. Just like what being around the exchange student made him feel like, too bad he knew they wouldn't be able to love him back.

"Hey Belphie, I heard you didn't feel too good. Do you want to cuddle?" Always so kind, before it had been their downfall. The reason that they died, yet they won't even avoid their murderer like a wise person would have.

"Belphie can you hear me?" Right they are here and waiting for him to respond.

"No I don't feel like cuddling right now, don't worry about me ok?" They dont look convinced at all, but they get called away by Mammon anyways.

The coughs he had been holding in were coming at full force now, more and more petals were covered in more and more blood too. The handfuls of petals quickly turned to full flowers and he felt the bits of stems in his chest starting to grow out of his body. It hurt but his throat was too raw to scream.

Beel ran in and screamed in the pain Belphie was feeling, the stems burst forth from his torso with a spray of blood. The crocuses in his torso began to bloom as well, Beel had started crying at some point.

It hurt and Belphie couldn't do anything about it at this point, he was dying. He knew Beel could feel all of the pain but he couldn't stop and he couldn't confess because he couldn't talk anymore.

As he breathed his last breath Beel right at his side the flowers covering his entire torso and starting to grow out of his eyes. When the exchange student got a frantic call from beel about belphie being dead and it being hanahaki, they rushed back.

"Belphie you idiot I did like you, why didnt you say that you liked me? Why did you have to die like this?" Then they began to cough as well, striped anemones meaning hopeless love.

[animeraider]

I get a lot of flack from anti-vaxxers, anti-maskers, and other fuckwits about my words on the COVID-19 Pandemic and in particular the response to it in the US. I pull no punches about it, I believe firmly that the previous administration and ANYONE who enables them and their policies are complicit in the deaths of all of these people. They belong in prison.

I'm not going to fucking apologize for believing that. The fault for all of this belongs directly in the laps of the Republican Party. If you believe otherwise, you're WRONG. I can bring the receipts.

I've been pretty isolated during all of this. I went into lockdown on March 11, 2020 and I'm technically still there. I now work from home, and even though I've been fully vaccinated for two months now I still go out masked. I may never eat at a buffet again. Sorry Sizzler, but I've learned how to make your cheese bread.

I ripped a tendon in my left knee in May of 2020. I had to go to the hospital, but I was out in a few hours with crutches. I would joke with people that I'm now out of hinged joints to break.

But in July my cough returned with an attitude, and I picked up an infection. Not Covid, but it all made me pretty sick. So that you understand, I have what's called "Chronic Cough Syndrome". I've had it since I was 8. No one knows the cause or the cure. Believe me, we've looked. I just start coughing, and after a few months, I stop. It can be treated but I just have to live with it until someone comes up with something we haven't tried before.

Doctors have gotten into fistfights over whether or not I have Asthma. I don't, but sometimes Asthma medications work for a bit. To be honest, I've had this for so long that sometimes I don't even notice when I cough. It's just part of the wonder of being me.

I took the Pandemic seriously. I stayed home, I socially distanced, I got real familiar with teams, bluejeans, and zoom. I did a LOT of cooking. Started making bread. Watched the country fall apart at the seams and commented on it from my own little pocket of safety. I contributed a new song to a fund-raising effort for nurses. I did my part to stay safe, but my cough had other ideas.

Anyway, this time my coughing got pretty severe and I finally agreed to go to the hospital. As stated above, turns out I had picked up an infection. Combine that with my cough and I showed all of the symptoms of a severe case of COVID-19.

I'd been careful, but the hospital staff were all very cross with me. If I had COVID, I just exposed all of them, and the main nurse who tended to me had already been quarantined that same month for a different exposure. When the test came back negative the tension in the emergency ward calmed down immensely and everyone treated me kindly and professionally - I was a patient with something they knew what to do with and didn't bring plague into their house.

I spent 4 days in the hospital but the worst part, scariest part, was the wait to move from the Emergency Room to a private room. I came to the hospital in the late afternoon. I finally got my bed nearly 12 hours later, a good 8 hours after my test for COVID had come back negative.

I needed to be hospitalized, and needed a bed, and there weren't any. I had to wait for someone to either be discharged or to die.

I got my bed at 4 in the morning. Someone had died. Musical chairs was played and I was finally moved out of the Emergency Room.

It's really hard to understand how sobering that is without experiencing it. Many years ago, before we even knew about AIDS, I had the honor of donating blood and seeing it get used in a surgery mere minutes later. I became a regular blood donor at that moment - I felt so happy and alive that my blood had been used to save a life mere minutes after I had donated it (I'm O Negative) that I became a life-long believer. I donated every time I was eligible from that moment forward until a blood infection disqualified me from ever donating again 20 years later.

This was just the opposite. The guy with a cough and a treatable infection had to wait for someone on a ventilator to stop breathing. Someone with COVID died so that I could get a bed. They never knew this had happened, and I never learned who they were. Some random person died so that I could get better.

Try sleeping after that realization hits you. I couldn't. I barely slept the entire time I was there.

Despite the fact that I wasn't in the "COVID Ward" I got to see the effects first-hand. The newly disinfected bed and room I had was previously occupied by someone moved up to the Covid Ward. They in turn had moved up there after a ventilator was taken away from a patient who died. Staff rotated through different wards on different shifts. My first nurse was rotated into the Covid Ward. My next day nurse had just rotated out. I have never in my life seen a group of people look so haunted by their day to day lives.

A well-liked member of their staff was on a ventilator. So was a priest who worked in the hospital. I had never seen in person a "Code Blue". There were six of them my first day. There is also a "Code Black". It's much worse.

My wife and daughters weren't allowed to visit me. When your daily soundtrack is nothing but medical staff talking about the good and the bad, terrible television and the moaning/screaming of your new neighbors getting that visit from family is a huge stress relief. It wasn't available this time. I didn't see my family again until I was discharged. There was no outside world.

I admit that being in hospital during all of this, even though I myself didn't have COVID, shook me. When you're in hospital mostly what you deal with is yourself and your own condition, and getting the hell out of there as soon as you can. This time I was not only aware of the people around me, their conditions, their suffering and their recoveries, but I was also aware that a whole section of the building was dedicated to people who were going to die, and that the people who were treating me were also treating them.

This was as close as I got to the Pandemic. When I got home I fucking STAYED THERE. I went to the grocery store and the pharmacy and that was it. That was life for MONTHS.

Our grocery store was fantastic - they enforced social distancing and masks with gusto. They cleaned EVERYTHING. It had been a 24 hour store but converted to shorter hours so that the down time could be spent cleaning. Aisles were made one-way.

The first time I saw someone in the parking lot without a mask I have to admit that I lost it. I screamed at them (a white couple about my age), "PUT YOUR FUCKING MASKS ON YOU FUCKING MORONS!" Understand, I'm a fairly large man with a deep voice and have been a professional singer for decades and have played sax even longer. I'm loud and imposing. Everyone within 50 feet turned and stared at the couple. Okay, me first then the couple.

It's possible they didn't speak English. They exchanged a few words in Russian to each other and then masked up.

I've been known to let my temper show. I try not to because I know it's there and I know it's terrible. I've worked for decades to keep it in check and I just let it all out, screaming at a couple of rando Karens 20 feet away from anyone else who hadn't put their masks on yet. I had to acknowledge that this affected me profoundly. I'm dealing with that.

I've lost friends to COVID. One of my neighbors spent almost 3 months on a ventilator and survived it. Some of my friends have lost family. It hurts. It all hurts. It has changed me.

Some of you have noticed that I've been pretty productive in 2021 in terms of music, after not releasing material for over a decade. This whole experience has changed me, changed my perspective. I was already an angry liberal but I'm far angrier and much more liberal now than I was. The album I worked on forever essentially no longer exists. The person I am now couldn't make that album. I am excising demons and allowing the new to come in and take its place.

And you know what, so far, I'm okay. I'm still here. I intend to stay. In fact, what I intend to be the first song from my next album in its own way deals with the fact that I don't understand depression - I've never experienced it.

But I have to admit that I'm grateful to have family and friends in my life who accept me as I am, who provide unconditional love and support and I hope I do for them. I have the occasional doubt that I'm as good a friend/family member as I can be. I can be an ass sometimes.

(A couple of my long-time friends have just done spit-takes. "Sometimes????")

Because the scariest thing about what we've all been through - what I've been through - is that we have changed so much that I'm not sure that the people who know me best would be my friends if they met me as the person I am now. I am changed.

And the odds are pretty good that you have too. This is something we're all going to need to deal with, or we're lost.

Please, don't be lost.

And because it still needs doing, because the pandemic is still going strong as ever among the anti-vaxxers, the science deniers and the Republicans, please support our nurses. Here's the album I'm on that is still to this day, long after falling off the charts, raising money for them:

[oknstark]

Not Anymore - Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Request by anon: Can we have a stephen strange x reader where the reader was his nurse after the accident. They don't get along at first but they eventually grow close. What will happen when her services are no longer needed/they fight?

Warnings: none, just pure angst and Stephen and reader being complete assholes to each other. Might do part 2, idk. Hope you like it, anon!

As always, forgive my english.

World count: 1,106.

MASTERLIST

***

Stephen woke up suddenly. His senses being alert; he felt presence he didn't know. He raised his gaze to the person next to him, and there you were. Y/N, he thought. You were currently by his side, changing his serum to keep him hidratated.

He knew you, well, at least he had seen you around the hospital. You barely talked to each other properly, just for work you did so, and he reminded himself of the girl that was standing before him.

You turned to the doctor on the bed, and smiled a little at him. "I see you're awake."

"Where's Christine?" Stephen asked barely. He remembered her being there a few hours ago, when he just woke up from his accident and thought he could make a better work for his own hands.

"She's busy right now," you said softly. "I will take care of you from today. If you need something just tell me, okay?"

He took one more breath. "Leave."

That left you a little surprised, but considering it came from Doctor Stephen Strange, you did as he said. With a nod, you walked away and closed the door behind you.

Stephen let out a sigh. God, it was so difficult for him to accept his faith from now.

***

A couple of days later, he was able to eat properly. You stayed there, sitting by his side with a tray and his light dinner: some smashed potatoes and a bowl of soup. With the spoon in your hand, you blew the soup so it can be on the right temperature for Stephen.

"This is ridiculous," he mentioned. You stopped with the spoon in the air, before it could get to him.

You were feeding him, like a child, and you knew he hated to be treated like one.

"What? What is it?" you asked. Stephen searched all over your face for any hint, like if you were making fun of his situation or just pitying him like most people at the hospital. "I'm not pity on you, Stephen. You can't move your hands and you need to eat or you'll starve to death."

"I was at the border of it, it will be none like it."

You sighed and just fell down on your sit one more time.

"I really don't understand this, because you used to take care of all this sick people, making extremely hard surgeries on them. But now, you can't let someone else help you in this situation," you spat.

Stephen rolled his eyes from his bed. "Oh, please. Now you're trying to make feel guilty, it's not working."

"Don't worry, if you wouldn't like to have it I'll take it," rising your brows, you took a spoonful of the soup. You didn't take lunch that day, so you'd go for it for sure.

He stared at you, and in that moment he knew that you weren't treating him like one of your patients. You were kind towards them and harsh with some of your co-workers, you treated people as they treated you. But he wasn't a normal patient. He was Stephen Strange.

And you accompanied him during his difficult days. Of course, you were his asigned nurse; you had to help him to eat, to bath himself and made sure he got to therapy, however the last one didn't work. And then, the days became weeks and those became months. Stephen learnt how to grow fond of you, but eventually that changed.

Suddenly, he was spending all his money and hopes to get his hands back. He felt lost when nobody couldn't make anything to help him, and also your presence was making him sick. Everything all around him was. Especially you.

That friday night, you just finished cleaning his apartment and then headed directly to the kitchen to make dinner for him. Stephen was now able to, at least, hold the forks and spoons, but still some of the easiest task were hard for his hands to make them.

As you were cutting some vegetables on the table, you heard him grunt and toss some papers on the floor. He was still trying to find a cure and it hurted you to see him like this. You weren't his nurse anymore, but his friend. Sort of, if someone asked.

You sighed, and walked towards him on the living room.

"You need to stop doing that," your voice made him stare at you from his seat.

"Oh, now you're telling me how this works for me. Great," Stephen replied with sarcasm. Posion sarcasm.

"Stephen, stop making this to you! It's just going to get worse!" you begged. "It's not good for your mental health, you're getting crazy."

"No, you stop telling me what I need to do!" Stephen exploded. He stood up and walked to you. "You don't know what is best or worst for me, you don't know how it is to keep living like this. My hands were my work, they were my life," he hissed between his teeth.

"And you can still try and make a sense for your life, it's not the end of the world for it," you replied, arms crossed in your chest.

"Of course not, Y/N, for you it isn't!" he yelled back. "And to be honest, I don't know what the hell are you doing here! You're always here, even if I didn't ask you to come! I'm just another charity work for your self steem!"

His answer made your eyes wet. More because of anger than for sadness or dissapointment.

"You want to know why?" you asked, narrowing your eyes. "Because you're an arrogant asshole who cannot stand to be in this position, you need help and you know it, but you are just so dumb to take it! Even if no one else will do it because you are just so annoying to be around! And no one, ever would volunteer to be here as I did, not even Christine!"

With that, you both stayed silent. You stared at him, he was unshaven, with shaking hands and all his aura felt like he was just waiting to die to find a cure. He was a mess. As you also were. You knew he would ask you to leave again, so you just took your purse from the coffee table before he talked on the almost empty apartment and headed to the door, closing it behind you.

"Good luck, Stephen."

You let out a breath, and sobbed a little, but you didn't cry. You felt so stupid, thinking it could change something on him. It became worst.

[witness-protection-official]

Warning, contains mildly graphic depictions of gore, cursing, and a brief mention of sexual assault. Please read at your own risk

Witness Protection - An Eyeless Jack x Female Reader fanfiction

Chapter 2

The tall man ran over, slapping a liquid coated hand over your mouth and pressing you against a wall. It took you about two seconds to realize that the liquid was blood, the scent of iron overpowering. The door to the hotel room shut slowly, a soft click telling both you and this man that the door was shut. He took his other hand and made a ‘shh’ motion over his mask, slowly bringing his hand away. You gulp and comply, not daring to scream. You wipe a bit of the blood off of your face.

“I-Is he d-dead?” You let your gaze drift to the horror that is the corpse sitting limp on the creamy toned carpet. He nods slowly and walks over, kneeling over the body. He prods it with a gloved finger, like he was making sure it was now nothing more than a sack of meat. You start to creep to the door, but he begins to make his way over to you once more. He reached the door and slid the lock in place, as if it would help. You raise a brow but he grabs one of the arm chairs in the room, getting bloody handprints and footprints all over the place. He slid the chair in front of the door with ease, and you realize he’s blocking your chances of exiting the room and calling the cops. He nods, as if satisfied with the exits blocked and then returns to the body, where he grabs a bloody scalpel out of his pocket.

“Wh-what are you going to do with that?” instead of responding, he cuts away the dead man’s shirt and then presses the blade against the body’s stomach, slicing down. You go green in the face. He continues to cut, blood beginning to pool. Eyes squeezed shut, you try to ignore the revolting sounds of things being removed. The sound of someone eating fills your ears and you crack your eyes open. A kidney is grasped in the man’s hand, his mask is tilted up, but you cannot see his face, it’s blocked by his hood. The kidney goes closer to the man’s face and you vomit before you can think. This strange murderer is eating organs. He doesn’t seem to mind your puking, and keeps eating. You grip your stomach, feeling the need to heave come upon you once more. The chewing stops and you breathe a sigh of relief, glancing up. He’s placing the organs in freezer bags that he probably had in his pocket somehow. The sickening feeling returns. You turn away completely, unable to look. You face the wall for maybe a minute before the sounds of running water fill the air. Slowly, you turn back around. The scene before you still makes you sick to your stomach, but you try to ignore it, and peek into the bathroom. He’s washing his face, splashing water onto the area around his mouth. The water that runs off is tinted red, and you pale more, if possible. Finally, he pulls his mask back over his face and turns to look at you. Instead of attacking you, like you thought he would at any given moment, he walked past you, getting to the body and scooping some blood in his hands, and he threw it on a footprint he left.

He repeats this tedious process with every footprint in the room, including your own. Soon, he finishes, and does a once over of the room before, finally, he turns to look at you. His hands dive into his pockets, and you tense, expecting his surgical blade to appear, gleaming with fresh blood, but instead he produces a small roll of duct tape, unrolling a small portion. He tears off this tiny piece and slaps it over your mouth. Next, his hands grip your wrists and he tapes them together, using multiple layers of the sticky tape and making it go up your arms, not just on your wrists.

“Is there anyone downstairs right now?” his voice is familiar, but you are in too much shock to care. A shake of your head tells him ‘no’, and he moves the chair and unlocks the door, swinging it open. He scoops you up in his arms, holding you bridal style, which was a welcome change from the expected slung-over-the-shoulder-like-a-sack-of-potatoes. He walks calmly to the elevator, pressing the button to bring the elevator to this floor. It dings and he steps in, hitting the button for the ground floor. You wait there, your work uniform soaking through with blood that was clearly not his own as he held you firmly. The doors slide open and he peers out, and as you had said, it was empty. He hustles out of the building and towards a beat up truck with a license plate from a completely different state. He shifts your weight to one arm and pops open the passenger side door. He throws you into the seat and climbs up on the side, strapping you in. He pulls out the tape again and tapes the buckle in place, he closes the door and you hear a click. He locked the doors. A heavy sigh leaves you, muffled by the piece of tape. With nothing to do and no hope of escaping, you lean your cheek against the chilly glass of the window and count the stars, trying to find constellations. You zoned off and failed to notice the driver’s side door opening or the truck turning on. It’s only when the vehicle starts to move that you snap out of your stupor, and you turn to look at him. He says nothing, staring straight ahead. You groan quietly and move to stare out the window again.

Buildings pass as he drove through the city you worked within. He continued to drive in complete silence, the only thing keeping you from going insane was the strange sound the engine made whenever he put his foot on the brakes and the thumping the chassis made whenever it bounced over a bunch of rocks or a crack in the pavement. Each thump made your head smack roughly against the passenger side window. It was really beginning to hurt. How long had he been driving? It was impossible to tell. Your best guess was maybe half an hour. The blood still hadn't dried on your shirt, but you were acutely aware of the crusty feeling your entire left side had, face included. You brought your shoulder up, trying to wipe the bodily fluid that had encrusted itself onto your skin off with the blood stained shoulder of your uniform. It only made it worse. You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration, and thump your skull against the glass repeatedly, trying to knock yourself unconscious so at least you could rest and be free from this seemingly never ending boredom. The man's bloody glove gripped your arm, pulling you away from the window. You whined and tried to pull away, but not only was he stronger, he had the advantage of being able to leave the car. Something happened and he had to put both hands on the wheel, leaving you to try to hit your head hard enough to fall asleep. He let out an audible growl and pulled over. The old truck had been moving along the back roads for quite some time, making getting out and moving to the passenger side door much easier for the man. He climbed onto the step.

"Hold still," he growled, pulling a syringe out of his pocket. A clear liquid barely sloshed around in it, there was so much it couldn't even move inside the plastic tube. You obviously resisted. There was no telling what was in that pointed needle of your possible doom. "Its anesthesia, calm down," You protest through screaming the best you can. He grabs your arm roughly, practically cutting off all blood flow to the limb, and stabs the needle into your neck. It was a sharp, sudden pain that slowly faded as he pushed the liquid in. 'This is it' you thought woefully. 'This is how I die. In the passenger seat of an ancient looking truck with a tall ass man stabbing a needle into my neck. What a way to go-' you cut yourself off as you feel your body numb. This was it, you supposed. End of the line. He pulled the needle out of your neck and held your limp body with incredible and inhuman ease, by which I mean one arm, and lazily, too. The world was beginning to fade into black and that's when you realized he was counting down like doctors do right before a patient goes in for surgery.

"7...6...5…" his voice sounded soft this time, no harshness. Maybe it was because you were slowly losing your ability to think and hear, but it did appear to be quieter, at least a little. And he wasn't growling. "3…" he was growing quieter as the world around you was being engulfed in darkness. You concluded it was whatever drug he gave you. You struggled to keep your eyes open, horrified about what he might do to you once he had you unconscious. You just hoped he wouldn't kill or take advantage of you while you slept.

"No…" you barely managed to let the word slip past your lips before it all went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack ignored her quiet protest. He wasn't going to do anything to her. It was a simple anesthetic. She'd be awake in a few hours, most likely. He sighed as he pushed her limp body back into her seat properly, slamming the door shut. He dug his hands into his jean pockets, pulling out a slightly busted smartphone to check the time. It was late. If his math was correct, the sun would probably be rising by the time they reached the next pitstop, which was the gas station. He could probably pick up some food for his little hostage while he was there. Couldn't have her dying on him yet. He pocketed the phone after a moment and climbed back into his side of the truck, slamming his own door shut and strapping in. He took a quick glance at the woman beside him. He'd have to get her new clothes too. That is if he decided to let her live longer than after the next hotel. She'd cost him his precious sleep, so now she was going to suffer with the constant fear of what he was to do with her as punishment. A rather vanilla one for Jack, to be completely frank. But he was tired, and she could run basic errands for him like getting simple supplies or keeping lookout for cops while he was hunting.

He took off his mask and dropped it onto a crowded seat in the back. With a heavy, stressed sigh, he pressed the heels of his palms to his sockets and groaned, letting his head fall and hit the horn in the middle of the steering wheel. He wasn't concerned about it honking and waking anybody up. The button had died nearly three years ago. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair before starting the car back up and getting back on the road.

Now he was all for the whole 'time is a social construct thing,' but it still bothered him whenever someone called him while he was trying to sleep, even if it was in an uncomfortable thing, such as his truck. He needed some kind of sleep. So when his phone began ringing violently at 3 am while he was trying to nap, he was more than a little irked. He grumbled, half awake, and unstrapped, clumsily opening the car door and slipping out, grabbing his mask on the way out. The door was lazily shut behind him. He didn't hear it latch, but he didn't care. He had parked in a field by a cliffside to avoid being bothered by some curious teen or meddling dumbass. The phone in his pocket continued to vibrate in his jeans, forcing him to pull it out and answer.

"What?!" he snapped at whoever it was.

"Calm down sir," there was a man on the other end. He didn't recognize the voice, and if they knew him they wouldn't call him sir.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I just woke up. Can I help you?"

"It says here that you left the hotel recently with all of your stuff but left your keycard at the front desk?"

"Ah, yes. I meant to check out but there was no one at the front desk,"

"Alright, thank you, that is all, goodbye," He hummed and then hung up. He pinched the bridge of his nose, careful not to scratch himself with his nails. He glanced at the fence that kept people from falling off of the cliff. He walked over to it and rested his arms on the rotting wood, scrolling through his contacts. He selected a rather important one, and tried calling. It wouldn't let him. Apparently his signal was too weak to make such a long distance call. He grumbled again. Today was not his day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You awoke slowly, blinking away any sleepy sand left in your eyes, before looking around the dimly lit area. You still had tape on your mouth, and your arms. You were still dressed. Relief flooded you. You looked around after your mini euphoric moment to gather where you were. It was hard to tell from where you sat. all you really knew was that it was nighttime and the man was nowhere to be seen. After a lot of shifting, you spotted him leaning against a fence, trying to do something on a phone you didn't know he had. It was all strangely serene. The moonlight lit up the area in dim white light, also bathing the man and his black cloaked self in a pure light. Strange, how simple light can make him look holy despite the man being far from heavenly. He pocketed the phone and returned to the truck.

"Good morning," he grumbled as he opened the driver's side door, voice hoarse. You don't respond. He closed the door and got situated properly in his seat before starting the car and beginning to drive. He says nothing else. Your shoulders sink, and you rest your head against the strangely cool glass of the window.

[alj4890]

Angst Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) Requested by @hopelessromantic1352 with the prompt: I can't do this alone.

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

Masterlist

Inspired by the song, Lost by Michael Buble´. Takes place between Would You Kindly Calm Me Down and Lovely Scars.

A/N trigger warnings of longing for death and emotional trauma after a miscarriage. On a personal note, I suffered a miscarriage during my first pregnancy. Many of the things Thomas and Amanda express and think are what happened one night during my darkest moment with my husband. Amanda’s experience in group therapy was my own. I believe very strongly that therapy is beneficial with fighting depression, so please don’t take this as a form against it. But like everything in life, sometimes you have to search for the one that is right for you.

@alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82  @cora-nova @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @pixieferry 

Lost Together

Thomas pulled into the garage and placed his head against the steering wheel. He dreaded going inside. He never knew what he would find. Ever since the bombing incident, he and Amanda were going down a road he never imagined could exist.

Her many wounds were healing save for the one to her heart. The knowledge that she had suffered a miscarriage consumed her. She was withdrawing from everyone, most especially from him. She never left the house except for the mandatory doctor's appointments. It was getting to where she was a silent ghost, wandering from one room to another.

He had tried taking her for counseling. She had sat quietly through a session and answered the questions asked of her. Thomas felt hopeful when they left and shared his feelings with her. Tears fell down her cheeks and she begged him to not make her go back. "He can't understand what it feels like." She said in a sob. "I can't go back and talk about it again."

After a few weeks, Thomas tried again and took her to a group therapy session for women who had suffered a miscarriage. That one truly upset her. When he asked her how it went, she cried so hard she made herself sick. "They can't understand, because it was my body that lost our baby. Not there's! Please, don't make me sit through another one. Please." He was unable to deny her pleas as he looked at her heartbroken face.

Now here they were. Nearly two months after the incident and she was not getting better. He took a deep breath and prayed that God would give him the words to say to her. He had been trying to not leave her alone, yet he had been forced to attend a media event. It had lasted longer than planned and he had left in the middle of it to rush back to her.

He unlocked the door and set his keys on the counter. All the lights were off. He walked toward the stairs and happened to see a glint of metal outside. It was her watch. He saw a shadowy shape on one of the pool chairs and hurried to the patio. His heart cracked seeing Amanda staring into the water made black in reflecting the night sky. Tears ran in steady streams down her face. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her arms and chin rested on them.

Thomas knew what would happen as soon as he touched her, yet he always hoped she would turn to him and tell him what was going through her mind. He sat down behind her and placed his hand on her back. He rubbed a soothing circle as he leaned forward to ask her how long she had been outside.

Amanda wiped her cheeks and quickly moved out of reach. She said the same words she always did when he caught her like this. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see this." She walked inside and began to go upstairs.

Thomas followed her, wishing he could comfort her. If she would only allow him to hold her, he would do so without hesitation. He stood in the doorway to their room and watched her go through her nighttime routine before walking into the bathroom. She soon came out, her actions were all on autopilot as she pulled the bedcovers back and laid down on her side. She made sure to stay on the very edge of her side of the bed.

Thomas quickly undressed and climbed in beside her. He turned the light off and watched her shoulders. He knew she was waiting to leave as soon as she suspected he was asleep. The past couple of weeks, she had left him to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. It hurt him that she could not stand sleeping beside him, even when he made sure to not touch her.

Amanda stared at the digital alarm clock on her nightstand. A few more minutes and she could escape. She couldn't stand to be touched in comfort, pity, or even in love. She couldn't explain it to Thomas, but when he touched her it made the raw ache in her chest hurt to the point she could barely breathe from the pain.

Tears began to fall again unheeded as she thought of the call she had received earlier. Liam had wonderful news. He and Riley were going to have a baby. Amanda spoke the words one would when hearing this type of news. As the words of how happy she was for him left her lips, she wished she could feel the emotion. She wanted to be happy for them. She wanted it so much, yet the feeling never came. She didn't want them to not have a baby. She only wanted hers to be there also.

Why couldn't she have kept that? So many evil people had babies and either threw them in the garbage, abandoned them, or abused them. She and Thomas would have loved that little one with everything within them. Amanda would have gladly died for it. She wished she could. She would trade her life without a second thought just to have their baby here where he belonged.

Her shoulders shook as the tears fell faster with each thought. Thomas sat up and softly said her name. Amanda froze and cursed herself in her mind. She silently pleaded. Please don't touch me. It will make everything so much worse. Lord in Heaven, please make him go to sleep.

Thomas wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

She tried so hard to be still. The pain began to consume her body and mind. Her brain screamed in agony at the sweet gentle touches. I don't deserve such kindness from you. I couldn't protect your baby. I can't take it anymore. She scrambled out of his arms and went into their bathroom.

She locked the door and knelt down on the floor. She stretched out on the cool, ungiving stone and breathed easier. She pressed her cheek against the coldness and closed her eyes. The chill would numb her body somewhat. A few moments of blessed relief was all she asked from it. The floor had become her savior in never demanding anything from her. It offered no comfort. The only thing it failed to stop were her tormented thoughts.

Why couldn't I have died in the explosion or during surgery? Life would be so much better for everyone if I had. Thomas would be fine and no longer worried about me. He has so many others he can turn to and be willibg to look after him. All my loved ones have each other to lean on. I'm not needed. What good am I to any of them? There is nothing I do that matters in the grand scheme of things. Thomas would get over me quickly and find the perfect person, one with a body strong enough to protect his unborn child. If I could only die, all this would end and be made right. Thomas would be free. My friends would stop calling in concern. I would finally be out of pain. I could be with my baby.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed in the floor, but it had to be long enough for Thomas to be asleep. She quietly crept out and walked to the bedroom door.

"Amanda?" Thomas was sitting up in bed. He had wondered if she was ever going to leave the bathroom. His fear at the growing silence made him rise from the bed.

She bit down on her lip. Why isn't he asleep? Why won't he let me go? Not just out of the room, but why doesn't he leave me? I want to leave me. Surely he knows he doesn't have to stick around anymore.

Thomas stopped a couple of steps from her. "Where are you going?"

Amanda didn't turn around as she spoke. "I was going to sleep in one of the guestrooms. I feel kinda restless and didn't want to disturb you."

His shoulders relaxed. "You won't disturb me." He reached out and touched her arm. She turned swiftly and knocked his hand away. His eyes widened at her reaction.

Her bottom lip trembled. "I'm so sorry." She ran a hand through her hair. "I can't...I didn't mean to...I need to leave."

"Leave? Why? You don't need to." He felt a new kind of fear when she covered her face and shook with silent sobs.

She lowered her hands until they only covered her mouth. Her eyes met his and she swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I think we should get a divorce."

He took a reflexive step back. "What?! No. Amanda, what did I do? Or not do? Tell me and I will fix it!"

She shook her head. "No. You haven't done anything. You can't fix this. I...Thomas I'm what's broken. I don't think I will ever be right. I can't keep making you miserable. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy, someone who can give you children. I --"

His eyes narrowed at her words. "I didn't marry you for children! I don't care if you ever get pregnant again. I'm not divorcing you!"

She raised tear filled eyes to him. "Please leave me. I can't leave you. I've tried so many times. I packed my suitcase and couldn't make it out the door. I'll be able to leave if you will just tell me you don't want me. Please, Thomas. Please say you want a divorce."

"No." He said in a harsh tone. "I will do anything you ask, except that." He reached out and grasped her upper arms. "Don't ask me to do that." His voice cracked when her tears started falling and she began to sob out loud.

She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and shook him as she spoke. "Thomas, I can't do it anymore! I can't. I wish to God I had died that night. I want the pain to end so much. Dear Lord, why didn't I die?" She fell to her knees, crying uncontrollably.

Thomas got in the floor with her and tried his best to hold her as she was doubled over. "Why couldn't I have died that night?" She cried out as her sobs became louder.

"Because I need you." He told her while rubbing her back. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. "I can't do any of this alone. I would be lost if you had died." He pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

After a few moments she sat up and leaned back against the door. She looked at him, utterly exhausted from everything life had thrown at her. "That's not true. You would be fine. You would have all our friends and you would find a new love quickly. I'm of no use to you or anyone right now."

He scooted closer to her and gripped her hand. "Yes, you are." He bit out. "I need you. You are everything to me. I don't want another wife. I don't want to turn to her or our friends for anything. Only you. You are the one I need to talk to. You are the only one who understands me." He looked down at their hands and loosened his grip to lace his fingers with hers. He felt a glimmer of hope when her thumb brushed the back of his hand in comfort.

Amanda closed her eyes and tried to calm her ragged breaths. After a few moments of silence, she met his stare. "I don't think I will ever get over this."

Thomas moved to sit next to her. He tentatively wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His eyes teared up when she leaned her head against him. It had been so long since she had voluntarily touched him. He cleared his throat. "Maybe we aren't supposed to get over it."

She looked up at him, her anguish nearly causing him to crush her to him in an attempt to absorb her pain. "But the ladies of the grief group said I am supposed to. They said I shouldn't feel this strongly about it because it was barely there anyway. One woman even said it was just like a blood clot." Her tears fell again as she recalled their callous words when she had broken down and cried in front of them.

He frowned and held her closer to him. "We will do what we need to in order to endure this." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "We will take it one day at a time."

Her hopeful expression that he could possibly help crumpled. "I have been trying to take it one day at a time. It isn't working." She started to withdraw physically from him and he pulled her back.

"You were trying. This time you will have me to lean on when it gets too much for you. If day to day is too hard, then we will try hour by hour, minute by minute. Whatever you need, I will be right there with you. If you need to cry, not talk, talk, whatever you need at any time of the night or day, I will do."

"Why?" Her voice cracked. "It would so much easier on you to walk away from me."

Thomas smoothed her hair back from her face. "I love you. I can't leave you."

She let him hug her for a moment before standing up. He got to his feet and watched her go quietly into the bathroom. He heard the water running and sat down on the bed. He wiped his eyes and waited. Amanda came back out after washing her face and laid down on her side of the bed. Thomas stretched out beside her.

Once the light was off, he watched her toss and turn before settling on her side. She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at him. "Would you hold me for a little while?" She whispered.

She gasped at how quickly he was behind her with his arm around her. Her raw ache still hurt horribly but she felt the comfort from his touch, for the first time in such a long absence, intertwined with the pain. She scooted back closer against him. As exhaustion took its toll on her, she turned her head some toward him. "I love you, Thomas."

He tenderly kissed her cheek. "I love you." He closed his eyes and thanked God that she had finally talked to him. Had turned to him. He prayed asking for the ability to help her out of the darkness that had held her captive for months.

Amanda silently thanked God for giving her Thomas. Please help us to not become lost together in the darkness."

[infcrtunii]

How does Deuce feel about the fact despite being considered the crew's doctor he couldn't save Ace? Does he blame himself at all? Or affect how he feels about medicine in general?

For someone like him, who was with Ace from the VERY beginning it was the raw taste of absolute failure as both a friend and doctor. A sinking heart and utter disbelief at the realization that everything would end in Marineford barely scratch the surface about how seeing his best friend get a hole punched through his chest made him feel after the events of the war. 

His parents were indifferent to him, which as we know, was one of the motives why Deuce abandoned both his birthplace and real name before meeting Ace while they were stranded on Sixis, and it was Ace who saved him from dying from starvation by sharing with him the mera mera no mi.  Ace saved him. And it’s canon that Deuce is 100% willing to follow Ace anywhere because he gave Deuce a place to belong even when he was prejudiced about the idea of Ace being Roger’s son at first. 

The fact that Ace was so accepting of Deuce without holding anything against him literally moved him, making him realize that more people like Ace should be in this world instead of judging for sins of other people tainting you for matters as insignificant as blood, motivating him to take care of Fire Fist even when he wished to forget his past and everything involved (except for Bice, but she’s not relevant here, unfortunately). I’m sure the Spade pirates had a doctor (reminder: Deuce’s role was the strategist along with other two), but Deuce would insist on treating his wounds as a thank you for everything he had done for the crew so far until there were too many people on the ship for Deuce to be comfortable with treating his captain. Again, he wanted nothing with medicine but he was secretly doing it as a mean to show his loyalty and support.

I think he was positioned as the main doctor of wb’s crew because he was caught treating Ace after his fight with Whitebeard, but he didn’t oppose to it. He realized it would be beneficial for both parties to have more resources as the equipment there was significantly equal to the one you could find in a hospital located in a big city. He only accepted the role seeing that in that way he would be more capable of protecting him. 

Now, after all of that, imagine yourself in the middle of a war that was only started because the one you more or so swore to protect / treat has been captured, and after a while, everything seems fine —he’s free —and everything looks like it will go back to normal only to witness that very person to be harmed beyond repair. Lungs and heart practically melted, destroyed by a fist of magma. You have forced yourself to do something you most likely told yourself you wouldn’t do again on account that it seems to be the only way to show your absolute loyalty, and you have failed.

Sure, you are going to cry your heart out because your efforts seem to have been in vain. Then you think you can carry that person for an urgent surgery, and you can search through the files for someone who has a compatible blood type but you must take into account several things, for better or for worse:

you’re in the middle of an ongoing war

the battlefield is a vast place

this person, despite being priority, is not the only one

the compatible person / people are most likely dead by now

you must look for compatible organs as well

organ compatibility tests aren’t a thing of minutes

you’re running out of time

you’re a doctor, and you must focus on keeping people with higher probabilities of surviving alive

this person died smiling.

Ace died smiling. He didn’t regret it because he sacrificed himself for his dear little brother; he didn’t think he had the right to live to begin with. Ace lived a life with no regrets, but now that he’s died, it’s the end.

Deuce felt like he lost purpose and his will to continue with medicine. My main verse is called “see my dreams all die” because he stopped writing, he stopped looking for adventure. Both his goals no longer make sense to him; he’s been feeling so numb for the last two years that he’s been wandering from island to island waiting for something. Hoping that somehow, the love he felt for the adrenaline pumping through his veins will come back. He literally held the corpses of those who mattered the most to him in his arms after they died. First Beatrice, now Ace. He can’t handle it. The traumas and the pain are too much for him and that’s why he leaves the crew, he doesn’t even wait for the funerals. 

Of course he blames himself. I’m sure the crew entrusted him and a few others with the strategy for getting Ace back because of his previous position in the Spade Pirates. He insisted on helping with that; he was desperate, anxious. He already knew he wouldn’t make it past the war if Ace died. Even when Luffy came as a surprise to the war, Deuce feels like he SHOULD have foreseen it for the significant bond shared between them, he SHOULD have guessed Ace would try to protect Luffy from any harm. He SHOULD have seen Ace’s sacrifice coming, but his hopes were too high moments before that to even think about it. He sang victory way too soon. As a true neutral, he only cares about the ones who are directly related to him and can’t care less about the rest. He resents Luffy and blames him for Ace’s death as well. He literally wouldn’t have cared if Mugiwara had died as long as Ace remained alive, regardless of how much Ace loved him as a family. That never moved him because Deuce’s an only child so the concept of siblingship doesn’t mean much to him. Whatever you may want to call it, Deuce only cares deeply about a reduced number of people, though he can and will worry about others as well. 

Deuce mostly blames himself because his strategy failed. He could have done something way better to ensure the return of Ace and the minor casualties possible, but he allowed his emotions to get the best of him, making him concentrate on the immediate picture.

The events of the war definitely affected the way Deuce sees medicine. He no longer wants anything to do with it. He sees it as a curse. He would rather go to a hospital to get his wounds treated than to do it himself. 

Following @xpyre plot, Deuce only goes back to the crew and becomes the main doctor for the second time since medicine it’s what brought Ace back to life. / @xpuriity

[diaryofsecrecy]

It has been the most exhausting year of my entire life and I will be surprised if I ever top it...

Brent was having a hard time adjusting to the altitude when we 1st came out here, (July 8th 2020) But as time went on he got better as expected. Then suddenly he got worse and worse, Eventually he lost the job that he got because he was calling out so often throwing up and experiencing extreme nausea.  Because of covid, the doctors were booked for weeks (new patient) so it was just kind of a waiting game until we finally decided to just go to the ER.  They did a full blood panel and decided that he needs to see a GI doctor because everything else is normal. So, That was booked 2 weeks out and he was sent home with nausea medication for one week...

Of course we were going to try to buy or rent so I was freaking out about money and working as much as I possibly could... But then I too had to go to the emergency Room because I had extreme abdominal pain resulting in an emergency appendectomy😖

The day after my surgery, I am home, when my dad comes in with my older sister.

To my knowledge, my older sister was diagnosed paranoid schizofrantic. She has been Homeless for the last 11 years,  And on drugs.  She recently was beaten so badly that she was left with several brain injuries on top of it all, And while she was healing at the hospital somehow they didn't notice her walk out.  We were just about to get her placed somewhere safe...And they lost her.

Anyhow dad walks in with my sister who I guess called him from a coffee shop when they told her that she couldn't sleep there anymore (after a month of being missing again) Dad had to go back to work so then it was me & her for the next 2 days, As you can imagine, not the rest I needed post surgery... then, I had to go back into the hospital because something wasn't right. I was there for 3 more days, 2 days alone because ben was so sick that it was worse with him being there than me sitting by myself in pain and nausea of my own.

Fast forward a few more months, tragic accidents led to 2 separate deaths of my parents dogs. Both events I happen to be present, so get blamed & am no longer welcome at mom & dads.

(Still healing from sugury, brent still very sick)

We get an apartment, and I start working as a nanny for my aunt twice a week while working at Massage Envy the other 5 days.

At this point, I am tired. I am horney, and lonely, and Absolutely. Fucking. Miserable.

I am begging ben to keep up with drs. but he has lost hope of getting better, and I have no way of helping him when I am already worn too thin.

After 9, Long, long months, he eventually, with my consistent pushing, nagging, most likely not always kind remarks, he finds out his hormones are completely off, which I knew would be the case, his dick hadnt worked for the last 3 years properly..

Anyway. He blames his addiction medication rather than continuing dr. Appointments... he gets on testosterone with an outside company(pay out of pocket kind of subscription company...rather than checking insurance, or figuring out what causes low testosterone and fixing that first). I was working and had no influence in any of those choices that effect us both as they have for at least 2 years. He hasnt touched me for so, so, long.

Month 3 of his medication that seems to be working (only reason I know is there was a ton of porn in my google history, he had declined all advances, except the rare, 3 times he allowed a blowjob then left immediately after for the gym or literally anything else rather than make it romantic at all.)

Month 4, he forgets to make a payment at all, so now we owe $250 rather than the normal $100. His meds get sent, then FedEx loses the package all together so, he is sick and I am house sitting in a dream home, alone for 2 weeks straight that originally was going to be our getaway to focus on Us.

At this point, brent and I havnt slept in the same bed for 2 months. At first cause he says I'm mean and he wants to not be near me, but now its cause hes "more comfortable out in the living room..."

A month ago when we last had a conversation about our relationship he said he wants space and a break from me all together. I'm too much.

I am the problem..?

When trying to understand what he means, he shuts down the connvo, saying he cant talk about it anymore. It's been 30 days since we have made any verbal progress. Our fighting has stopped though, and I'll tell you why...

Rewind 1 week before house sitting;

1 week after brent and I had an awful fight where he told me we should take a break, I stay at my parents & My mom offers for me to join them at a graduation party of a kid I used to babysit.

We were sitting in the back of the dining room, out of the way, when I saw someone i slightly recognized in the hallway. Not sure from where, but he was the kind of guy that you couldnt stop looking at. He was clearly into fitness, his shirt couldnt hide the muscular features he had been perfecting either, despite him dressing nothing out of the ordinary. He had beautiful ink crawling up his leg, an artform that would only mean something to someone who is more spiritually awake. But more noticable about anything was that smile.

God that smile. His face was scruffy, as if he had been away, but regardless, the smile he had influenced his entire ora. His eyes smiled, his walk... smiled. He had some kind of thing about him that was a physical draw I had never known for myself before. Dont get me wrong, i have been woo'd by many men so far in my life, from all stages in life, but This one was just, different. He was making his way around the room, & I could hear his voice over my mom who's talking beside me. I had literally been blocked out by my ever wondering thoughts of this random stranger whom felt familiar.

Then, he was there, at our table?

He was so easy to talk to, not even sure how we started now, but all I know is I was not nervous despite my very physical attraction to him.

He spoke of traveling, and adventures hes been on. This guy had a whole other life in the military at one point and now was traveling, working for a company that sends him around the US.

This guy had Hope's and dreams and somehow we got to talking about that kind of thing at a graduation party?

When I left that day, I thought about him. Not just him specifically, but men like him. Had I chosen Brent wrongfully? Does brent even like who I am anymore, what does he want going forward in his own life? How do I even fit into that? He understands my need for adventure but his actions say that he doesnt want to come along. My mind was loopy after that because for the first real time I questioned, what if there was someone who wanted to see the world,  Who liked my sad music, and my emotions being in everything I do? What if there was a women more interested in the simple home life, having a couple dogs and living a small, comfortable life? Are we doing one another a disservice by occupying oneanother's lives? How could I ever bring that up with Brent at all without making him feel so inadiquite after a year of terrible sickness and defeat?

Well, when I went to that big, gorgeous dream home the following week to house sit for 2 weeks... begging him to come see me, I grew weak from overthinking. I cried, I cried so much the first 3 days.

I cried from a place of such sadness, anger, bitterness, defeat, they were so strong. My mind was cloudy, drunk, stoned, tired.... I found myself writing a suicide letter.

My plan was to disappear, I knew I'd find a firearm in the home & allow someone to find my remains eventually in the hills where I'd walk far enough.

I prepared by cleaning the litterbox, laying out several bowls of water for the dog and cat, and watered all the plants heavily. I transfered brent all the money in my bank accounts, and as I waited for the sheets to come out of the dryer I balled my eyes out, reading the last conversations I had had with my family members. I thought to myself how the kids would take it, what different life choices they would make having been close with someone before their passing. At this point, I needed something, but I needed it from someone who doesnt know me in my life right now, but the me that was worth saving. The me I still recognized.

I called an old friend from 2nd grade. Hadnt talked to her in years and years, didnt known her life, her schedual, her name(which had been changed). But she talked me down. She saved my fucking life. It took a person who knew my soul years ago, to remind me I am not alone.

I dont blame my parents, or who I thought would be my future husband. I had talked with my aunt earlier that day and she couldnt see it either. I had become this fake shell of a person and it took considering an actual murder of myself to make me see that if I continued this path, I would die eventually and nobody in my life would ever see me preparing for it.

That night, I invited a complete stranger over and we fucked like rabbits. 4 times. He got to do things he'd never done before, and I begged him to. Sounds cold, sounds unapologetically disgusting that I'd do something like that, but quite frankly, I FUCKING needed it. I needed someone to see me, even if he didnt see my current life nor care about me as a person... he saw, touched, kissed, sucked and ate me up. For the first time in at least 2 years, i felt satisfaction when I walked him to the door and watched his car drive away.

It was like a sigh of relief, an inch I could not reach for the longest time, gone. Finally.

The following days, brent began putting in more effort. It has been 3 weeks and I'd say he has been kinder to me than he had in a while (probably the lack of testosterone) but also, I havnt seen much of him in general. From his point of view, it is all fine. Hes getting the space he needed, I'm being nicer since I quit massage Envy, and things are looking up....

But that is because he doesnt See Me.

My suisidal thoughts subsided after my long conversation with Scout. & that night I called my cousin as well, and learned he too had been in my shoes before. He said something that stuck with me.

If everyone has an expiration date on their life already, and we don't know when it is, you're to the point that you're life is so invaluable that youd kill yourself than flee your life and make one you want. Dont care about the people youd hurt, because suicide is just as careless as abandoning them all indefinitely.

He was so right, it put things into perspective, gave me a freedom I felt I was waiting to gain permission for.

Five days later, I noticed He had written me 5 before, on the day I had truly planned to end my current life..

He had written me at 12am, what would someone like him, a gorgeous, beefed out, big thinker, high energy, go getter be doing messaging me, a tired women who was 300lbs a year ago, (still working on getting to a normal size) and completely at a crossroads with existance.

I entertained the connvo a tad, and honestly forgot about it for a few days as I figured no way he could be serious.

He triple messaged me, and asked for my personal contact info to have real conversation?

Hesitantly, and wildly excited to even just flirt for a moment with someone who is literally everything I fantasize when I'm alone everynight....

Our conversation immediately took off. In directions I hadnt expected at all what so ever. He told me he had to admit he felt drawn to me, like he had known me in another life. That he doesnt expect me to get it, but I did. We talked about things that only my sister and I can relate to on a spirituality standard and it changed me in that instant. Suddenly i realize, I wasn't broken, I was just misunderstood. & that there are people in this world that See Me even when I am not trying. Not many, and it takes a specific Kind of person, but they do exist and when you meet them, you cant ignore it. It is as if they stain you with remembrance.

As the sexually hungry humans we are, not only did we find that morality, values, future goals coexist, but also our importance of intimacy. Not just lust and sex, well, yes that too, uff did those conversations get so, fucking, hot, but the interactions of intimacy and how they make a person whole.

I opened up to him about Brent, and where I am at in life, asking he please oversee my unfaithfulness, but that I am loyal at heart. He says with such pain in his voice how he too in a parallel position simultaneously, however, he married her 7 years ago.

Ugh.

So now I get to choose. Do I chose mortality, say no, brent and the other women deserve to understand the severity of sex, love and passion, and if they chose not to then we will leave before we act on our mutual attraction....? Or, do we say hell with it and give in to serendipity moments that our hearts crave so badly, take on the consequences and move forward. Sigh. If only there was a guideline for complicated.

Last night, as the 5 nights before, we talked for hours on the phone. His voice makes me smile every, damn, time. Perhaps because it's new and exciting, or maybe I just love to hear him go on his tangents of loving yourself despite the bad in life. I Want him. I want him when I wake, &when I go to sleep. I do not want a life without him& it saddens me to know our timing is incorrect. He asked her for a divorce a year ago, but has sat comfortably as I have despite the horror because weve both been too busy, too tired, too... afraid that life will always be lonely. Last night, he said to me, Elise, I love you. I avoided it several times but when he said it two more times, I couldnt keep it any longer to myself, Jackson, I really do Love you as well. It's scary, and faster than I'd ever say it to anyone. But I know it to be true because I Feel it. I want his love so badly. I want him to live life along side of me because with a person like him, I'd be a better me.

I am absolutely terrified. My life, my home, my family, dogs, my 5 year relationship, the unborn children brent and I have named, and the houses we'd have... all gone?

Running away with a man who says hes going to leave his wife is absolutely stupid. I'd be an idiot to think I am enough to get him through that fear of change, yet he gives me strength to want to try, so maybe I do, Him?

Ugh my brain being pulled in many ways. My heart having been in pieces so many times now doesnt know who to go to or why. I know for certain I love Brent, is this a self gratifying moment To push me back to him? Is this the devil bringing two lost people together to ruin four people at once?or is this Fate. Fate that has seen both of us individually loosing ourselves in a life we didnt want and has brought us together to lean on one another, temporarily not?

Suppose time will tell.

Last two days he has been working a ton, and told me that tomorrow he has something he needs to talk to me about.

I assume it isnt good. I assume it is the first put off of many, because, I know I want to do the same. Part of me says I should block him right now, because lust, and attraction, both mentally and physically like that couldnt make a women addicted and that's a no good addiction when he has a women in his house with his last name. 😔

[biggy-habes]

Yesterday ended up being the day that I had been dreading for a while. I had to say goodbye to my best friend. My little buddy. My copilot. My Road Dawg.

Fennie passed on from this life on July 3rd in the comfort of his own home with me and Kat holding him until the very end. This was something that I had promised him from the very beginning. A promise that I would never leave him. That I would be with him until the very end. And that I would always be by his side. I owed him that much.

Fennie's path crossed mine back in 2010 when I walked into the animal shelter at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I was looking for a small dog that would fit in my tiny 1BR apartment. I got to his cage and I saw a skinny little shit that looked like he wanted to get out of his cage and eat me and my first thought was "This pup has spunk!" He had a deep, bright orange coat and a fluffy tail that made him look like he was part fox and had these dark orange freckled spots on his white nose. His face could only be described as "scampish". The worker asked if I wanted to take him out and spend some time with him to see if he warmed up to me so I took him outside in the visitation pen. He didn't seem all that affectionate and was not particularly friendly with me. But there was something about him. I saw something within him. I asked about his history and all that was known was that he was 2 years old and had been surrendered by an elderly couple for being too aggressive. I looked at this tiny little guy and wondered "How much trouble could he be?" 15 minutes later I was walking out with this Spaniel mix (whose original name was actually Lucky. Clearly that name would not stick around for much longer.)

Fennie was originally supposed to be a dog that my girlfriend at the time and I would raise together. However when we split up it was agreed that she would get the cats and I would keep Fennie. It was this decision that would change my life forever. I would no longer be able to use the bathroom without someone worrying where I went. For 11 years this dog would never leave my side. And if I had to be gone for an extended period of time it was preceded with the promise that I would ALWAYS come back for him.

One thing that Fennie will always be remembered for was his never-ending energy. He was constantly going 100 miles a minute. He could not slow down and he would never tire. It was like they took the vigor of a large golden lab and stuffed it into a tiny 20 pound body. No hike was ever long enough. There were never enough objects for him to hump. When he was around 4 I can remember thinking "I cannot wait for him to get a little older so that he will slow down a little bit". Well I would end up waiting for that day to come for a very, very long time.

Despite his size and stature, Fennie always felt like he was so much bigger than he actually was. No matter where he was he would walk around with a poise that he owns all that can be seen and anyone or anything intruding in his territory would have to answer to him. At the dog park he would go up and snatch toys from dogs that could CLEARLY beat his ass without even giving it a second thought. He had some big ol' brass balls, man! He never viewed himself as being in the Not-Even-2-Feet-In-Length, 20 pound body that he was in. He was always vigilant and on guard. No box, package, suitcase, or bag was able to get past him without going through a rigorous sniff search first. He took his job as protector of his territory and his Daddy very seriously!

Fennie would end up living a life that few other dogs would get the opportunity to. As being with a person who is constantly drifting, he got to see more of this great country than most of the people that I know. He has been on the boardwalk in Myrtle Beach. He has been to the mountains of Flagstaff. He has been to ABQ, New Mexico. He has been to Detroit Rock City. He has touched the top of the highest peak east of the Mississippi. He has visited the aftermath of the destruction caused by the tornado in Joplin, Missouri. He has been to Kalamazoo. He has been to Vegas. In his lifetime he has marked Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Missouri, and Illinois as his. He has been through 3 tropical storms, 3 ice storms, 2 tornados, a blizzard, and an earthquake. He has scrapped with a bull terrier and lived to tell the tale. His life was full of adventures, road trips, and hikes.

I’m not going to lie and say that he loved everyone that he met. But I will say that he has touched the heart of everyone that he ever encountered. He was honestly the right dog for the right person at the right time. We shared so many of the same character traits. He was moody. He got irritated very easily. He just had a way of pulling you in. He was lovable, yet complicated. He was selfish and jealous. He didn’t really like to engage in play with any other dogs. He wasn’t one to share. There was never any “Lets Play Fetch”. He had a fiery temper. He was overly cautious. He had a tendency to be untrusting. I have many friends and family that bore the mark of meeting him on their fingertips for a few days afterwards. But he could also be affectionate, and funny, and had the tendency to be a bit of a klutz. He was a great cuddler! And for such a small dog, he had a personality that would burst at the seams.

In his 11 years with me he has shown and taught me so much. He taught me the value of loyalty. If I could use 3 words to describe Fennie then they would be “Loyal…As…FUCK!” Relationships would come and go but he stuck by my side no matter what. He had my back and was willing to protect me at the drop of a hat. And he refused to let anyone or anything come between him and I. He taught me patience. My LORD he taught me some patience!! He taught me that however old you are, you can still be young at heart. And he taught me to love unconditionally. I was not always the best owner. I would get upset at him for things that he had nothing to do with. He would get scared when I would lose my temper. And yet he would still come over to me to comfort me and let me know that he was there for me when I was done. And I cannot tell you the amount of times I accidentally stepped on his paw while walking or whacked him in the head while opening a cabinet, and he would just sit there looking at me like “Eh whatever. So what’s up with that walk you were talking about?”

Although I had other pets growing up, Fennie was the first dog that was MINE. And he is not a someone that I could ever forget. He traveled with me as I bounced from place to place and would only give me a look as if to say "Hey man, I trust you. Just don't leave me." He devoted his entire life to me, and it was only fitting that I spend his whole life by his side. And he gave me a pretty awesome life. I had noticed that he his health had been declining about a year ago. He started slowing down. Getting up was getting to be more of a struggle. His stomach started having issues. He ended up requiring a surgery. I asked myself if the cost of the surgery was worth getting 6 more months with my little buddy. I ended up getting a year. I got my money's worth.

Fenway "Fennie" Haber, affectionately referred to as Foo Bear, Bubba, Fennie Foo (or Fennie Foo Bear if you aren't into the whole brevity thing) will always be remembered for his temperament, his charm, and his overall cuteness. Just like his dear Papa. I was so fortunate to spend the last decade with him by my side. I wasn't exactly sure if I had made the right decision when I first chose him. But I couldn't imagine my life without him. He left this world cuddled up on his favorite blanket alongside his favorite shirt and he was surrounded by love until the light faded from him. As he started to drift off I spoke my last words to him...

For 11 years you've been my Ryde or Die

The time has come for us to say goodbye

The day I have been dreading is finally here

The end of a legacy and a legend is near

Thank you for the life you have given me

Thank you for your undying loyalty

Thank you for comforting me when I needed a friend

Thank you for trusting me until the very end.

I'm going to miss you taking up the whole bed

And your cuddles that were top notch

And when I'm napping you kicking me in the head

And stomping me in the crotch

Don't worry about what will happen to me

After you are gone.

You did such a great job taking care of your Dad

and I will continue to go on

But I will always keep you tucked deep inside my heart

until my life is through

You aren't a dog that is easy to forget

And no matter what I will continue to love you

So if you see me crying as I hold you

and looking scared and sad

It's only because I'll miss you so much

and the life together we had

Get some rest, little buddy

And for now I'll say goodbye

But I'm sure I'll see you again in some crazy dream

Or when I get a little too high

Via con dios my little friend.

Na Zdrowie, Fennie!

Do Widzenie.

You were the right dog, for the right person, at the right time.

[keepingupwiththeaguinaldos]

03.06.19 - Our Fertility Journey

FAST FORWARD TO PRESENT>>>

It’s been awhile.... and a lot has changed. Stay with me, this is a lengthy post. Lets recap:

William and I finally got married. It took a while and there were plenty of ups and downs but we made it! We finished building our house a month after the wedding and was able to move in as husband and wife. That in itself needs its own post! We might get to that later... This post is about present time. 

It’s been 1 year and 10 months since we got married and in that time, we managed to get pregnant! I shared the news of our pregnancy in June 2018. It was such an amazing feeling! Something that I can’t even begin to describe. We went along as any normal couple would do who just found out they were pregnant; we started speaking to my belly, downloading all the apps, reading all the books, and we even started telling family and close friends.  

On August 20, 2018, it the was the day of William’s graduation ceremony. Something we have looked forward to since probation started. I woke up to excruciating pain and bleeding. I took myself to the emergency room and after 6 hours of waiting, blood tests, vaginal exams, and ultrasounds, I was told I had an ectopic pregnancy. Ectopic pregnancy are rare and very dangerous. Its when the embryo implants itself in someplace other than the uterus. In my case, it was my fallopian tube. I needed to abort our baby and remove my fallopian tube because if I didn't I would bleed out and die (That’s exactly what our doctor said). It was such an emotional day. I called William and he immediately left his graduation and came to the hospital. That healing process was such an emotional roller coaster and we couldn't have done it without the love and support of each other. 

We thought that after we healed and processed our grief, we would be on our way to making another baby. 6 months later, on February 8th, 2019, I found myself right back in the ER with the same kind of pain I felt 6 months ago. 10 hours later, they tell me I need to have another surgery because during the ultrasound, they found a 6cm cyst on my left ovary. The cyst was causing all the  pain. 

This brings me to present time. My surgeon informed me that visually my female reproductive parts looked healthy but she suggested we see a fertility specialist just to make sure. So we had our first fertility appointment yesterday and that was overwhelming. He told us that getting pregnant is easy as long as three major factors are working: my ovaries, my remaining fallopian tube, and William’s sperm count. 

To test my ovaries, he ordered a simple blood test during my next period.

To test my fallopian, an out patient procedure called Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) will be done. The test takes no longer than a half hour. It involves placing an iodine-based dye through the cervix and taking x-rays. These x-rays help evaluate the shape of the uterus and whether the fallopian tubes are blocked.

And lastly, to test William’s sperm, he will need to give them a sperm sample after abstaining from ejaculation for 3-4 days. 

I wrote this post because I wanted to share our fertility journey. I never thought this road would come, but we’re here and it’s very real. Hopefully I can keep up with this documentation and share our journey with all of you. Thanks for reading, and I’ll let you know how the tests go...