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tmisaccidentreportbook · 2 years

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MAG032, Hive

Case #0142302, Jane Prentiss Release date: August 18, 2016 First listen: 6th November, the walk into work. The previous morning’s walk to work; listening to TAZ:Graduation, Travis McElroy in the break tells me he is proud of me and is holding my hand, and I burst into tears. This morning’s walk into work; listenig to Jonathan Sims read Jane Prentiss’ statement, and I’m in the middle of the road going ‘NOPE’ at the top of my lungs.

So… there was a wasp’s nest in my old landlord’s attic…

- Jane Prentiss gave a statement to the Institute February 23rd, 2014. And MAG006, which I believe is the next beat on her timeline, the event occurs 20th November 2014. So, going by what we’ve currently got, we lose her for 8 months.

- ‘I itch all the time. Deep beneath my skin…’ I look down at the area of effect of my tinea incognito infection… I slowly pull my sleeve down over it.

- That’s an interesting little word choice, ‘I don’t think I want it.’ Jane isn’t convinced that she wants shot of whatever it is trapped in her. She doesn’t think she wants it, but perhaps she can be persuaded. Her state of mind seems so washed out, like she’s exhausted and not far from delirium and it is such an effective writing style. I love it, it’s fluid and disjointed at the same time. I wonder if this was another statement Jonny wrote on not enough sleep. But it’s the sort of writing style I can fall into if I’m not careful, sweeping water colour prose and not so much a focus but a vibe. Heavens preserve my betas.

- You can hear Jane’s loss of self in her opening paragraphs, as she addresses whoever it is that is stuck taking her statement. She’s vague and unfocused, like every thought it having to be made by committee. She’s a part of a greater whole, even at this point, and you can see it in the way she addresses the statement taker. The ‘you’ appears to have weight to it, like she’s referring to the whole of the institute rather than the sole person sat before her.

- ‘…it sings so sweetly, and I need it, but I am afraid.’ Oooo that sounds a mite like addiction… sounds a mite like the descent of the person and the ascent of the Avatar…

- The Entities are an interesting colour wheel of concepts, each with their own set of siblings that compliment and oppose. The Corruption, made of ‘the things that crawl and slither and swarm in the corners and the cracks’ but also a living community, sees its’ anathema in The Beholding, that pins the insect to the cork board, that traps the bacteria on the glass slide under the microscope. Whatever Jane is, she needs it to be seen.

- ‘You can’t see it’. Ms Prentiss, I’ll bet there’s some folks in this building who can.

- This podcast has introduced my to a variety of phobias that I either knew of but didn’t have the word, or I thought I was fine with until Jonny got into it and the inevitable ‘uh oh’ would occur. Trypophobia was one that I did already know of, and I think I still am not susceptible to it. I say ‘think’, because I also thought astrophobia would never be a thing for me, because when am I ever going to go to space, but thems the breaks.

- ‘… the holes are there too, in your own brain, rotten and hollow and swarming…’ When I was in A2 Biology, I made a terrible mistake. We were looking at the human brains and my teacher ask if any of us had ever had an MRI or a CT scan. I had as a kid, I think I was about 8 and I had a scan, can’t remember which one, think it was an MRI. I’ve had a lazy eye all my life, now we reckon it is down to muscle damage sustained during my ventouse delivery, but for a time doctors were concerned there was a brain tumour pushing where it ought not to. Long story shirt, no tumour, all fine, and I’ve got pictures of my brain. So when the classroom was asked if anyone had a picture of their own brain, I thought nothing of it about bringing the images in. My teacher then proceeded to point out every abnormality and every variation he could see, making me out to be some modern day Phineas Gage. I just remember sitting there, shaking slightly with a clenched jaw as he spoken about me like I was a specimen, only the lad next to me’s hand on my elbow and his concerned face keeping me from bolting out the door. My classmates weren’t impressed with the teacher’s manner. But yeah, they were a rough few days.

- ‘This place of books and learning, of sight and beholding.’ She’s speaking directly to you now, Jonathan, this stronghold of The Eye.

- ‘I… I haven’t slept in some time.’ Is this Jane Prentiss or Jonny speaking now?

- Music comes up again. ‘They always sing that song of flesh.’ With some Entities, I think it’s to carry threat, The Slaughter or The Hunt, or the bewilder and confuse, The Stranger, or to worship, The Dark. The Corruption may fall into the worship action too, but there may just be something about many voices sounding as one. It also invokes the image of crickets and cicadas, amassing and singing.

- ‘There will be great violence done here. And I bleed into that violence.’ Like Cassandra stood in the heart of Troy.

- I wonder who it is that Jane Prentiss is talking to. Fiona Law took statement MAG029 in 1972, and she was a research assistant, so odds are it is a member of the research team. It could have been Sasha, Tim or Jon, as they were all researchers pre-2015. Unlikely to be Martin, as he worked in the library. Could have been Gertrude herself, I can’t imagine anyone else wielding the word ‘dear’ like a weapon.

- In mid 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, my live in landlord went funny on me. Got passive aggressive, or as passive as an ex-military man can get. Got to the point that I would wait until he was out before I tried to cook for myself. If I wasn’t at work, I was holed up in my room. I came to dread coming home. When he handed me an eviction letter, it was a relief, and 3 days later, I had a new place to stay. He kept hold of the deposit, which he had no real right to, but I didn’t fight it because I was spent and I still had bigger storms rolling in. I don’t know why he went funny on me, whether he just wanted to move his girlfriend in or what. But as I left, there was a wasps’ nest growing in the attic…

- ‘It is not the patterns that enthral me, I’m not one of those fools chasing fractals…’ Bit of shade on The Spiral and Ivo Lensik's father of MAG008 there.

- ‘Sings that I am beautiful. Sings that I am a home.’ So much of The Corruption seems to be about love, looking for love, looking for community. It feels like the other side of the coin to The Lonely. The loss of the self to the crowd or to isolation. I wonder is Jane was experiencing a period of isolation at this time and she reached out to what The Corruption was offering. That she will be ‘consumed by what loves (her)’ and never be alone again.

- ‘Some sweaty old man thinks he owns it, taking money for my presence as though it will save him.’ Jonny here just scalping landlords, in the more literal sense, and I am here for it. I’ve got a very complicated relationship with the concept of landlords; I have been subjected to wonderful landlords and terrible landlords, but also, my father’s a landlord. I won’t go into detail, but yeah, this series has had me examining some class and socio-economic guilt and that needed to happen. But I appreciate that housing security will be a big thing for this team, so many of who are creative living in London. Alex was effectively made homeless after asbestos-gate for goodness sake.

- ‘I would spend so long worrying about that money.’ BIG MOOD. Big Cost Of Living Crisis Mood. I wonder if The Flesh Hive could sense that in Martin as it lay siege to his flat, that he had the same worries? I wonder if some residual part that was Jane Prentiss felt a kinship.

- Sometimes, when I’m feeling a bit out of it, I will find myself thinking about the passage of time in a certain place; think about how the spot I’m in may be a building now, but it has been a field, an ancient woodland, an ice flow, a temperate forest, a boulder field, a scrubby waste, an ocean bed and all the creatures, a the ‘thousand truer owners’ of a spot that came before. Then I typically need a cup of tea and a lie down.

- ‘Have you ever heard of the filarial worm?’ I love when the statement givers ask questions directly of the reader, and in this case, specifically the Archivist. I like it as an introductory technique, but I also love that there is going to come a point that whatever the statement giver asks about, he is going to know.

- ‘… showing him what a real parasite can do.’ Oh boysies, I love it when Jonny comes out swinging.

- ‘…not nectar-sweet song.’ Bugs. Bugs bugs bugs. Pollinators, very important, thank you for your service.

- ‘We would sell the stones to smiling young couples with colour in their hair.’ This is a weird detail, why is this so clearly defined? Is it simply to highlight that Jane is alone?

- So we can assume this Oliver is our soft, tired, goth boy Oliver Banks a.k.a. Antonio Blake of MAG011. I wonder what her ‘roots’ looked like, if it was concentrated over the arm that she shoves in the wasps’ nest or if they move and crawl all over her.

- When Jane says she ‘wanted something beyond (herself)’, that’s another indicator that she is ripe for the taking by The Corruption rather than The Lonely. She’s reaching and grasping.

- I’m going to try and word this delicately, and I stress I am more than likely stepping out of my lane and definitely talking outside of my sphere of knowledge, but I wanted to look at Jane Prentiss with regards of practising Wicca and calling herself a witch. At first, unkind glance, Wicca could be seen as something rather complementarity to The Corruption; a fairly young religion, with roots in Paganism, strongly connected to the earth. An unkind link could be drawn between the colonising effect of cults and the earthy, wild aspects of practises. But as I think about it, and I’m coming for them again, I think Christianity has more in common with the aims of The Corruption. Especially when you consider the missionary bent that so many denominations are infamous for. There’s a reason that roughly 1/3 of the globe’s population is considered Christian.

- ‘Or if it is then it is a dead god…’ The notion of a god dying only when there is no one left to worship them, what if that were not true? Has that been explored somewhere? The idea of deities having a natural life span, but the adoration of followers won’t let die. They’re sustained by worship, but in a terrible twist on necromancy. I would read that book, has anyone written it yet?

- Jane being called by the singing is rather reminiscent of the old idea of a siren song, specially considering the danger that she encounters once she’s close enough. But we’ve seen it before, music beckoning and guiding, from both The Piper in MAG007 and The Calliope in MAG024. But where before it had been pipes calling, here it’s many, many voices as one.

- A few of Annabelle’s agents at the edge of things. Was The Web pulling strings to get this all in motion, turning Jane to the Flesh Hive to turn on the Institute and further the Archivist’s journey?

- ‘I used to pick at my skin...’ Yup, please excuse me while I go and find a clearasil pad or something and scrub like hell. I’ve always be fairly lucky with my skin; I get the occasional outbreak but I’ve never really worn make-up and so avoided the terrible feedback loop that so many teens fall into when they’re trying to figure it out as they go along just exacerbate the problem. These days I just have a fine layer of muck all over me at all times…

- ‘… that hides the sick squirming reality of what I am… the pretence that there is more to a person than a warm, wet habitat for the billion crawling things that need a home. That love us in their way.’ Very evocative, very powerful, but wretch… Well, it’s getting the reaction it was after I suppose.

- I think a lot of why I like this episode so much is that it served as a little bit of a slap for me. As you may be able to tell, I was ‘going through it’ a little bit, we all were. But as I was walking along, on the way to a job that I loved and dreaded in near equal measure, I was listening to Jane’s wandering stream of consciousness and going ‘oh, yeah, no I get it’, and then realising what I was thinking and standing bolt upright and saying ‘NOPE’ out loud to no one before lengthening my stride. Because, damn it Jonny, you’ve made this walking corpse compelling. Also made me acutely aware that I was in a vulnerable state of mind at that point and that I needed to watch it. Something I’m still doing. At this stage we were, what, 9 months into COVID 19 lock downs? I was in a new living arrangement after about 5 months of my previous one slowly getting worse, I was missing my friends and family, while I saw some at work, we were a skeleton crew, the winter was rolling in and making everything harder, there was a storm coming on the horizon which hadn’t quiet broken yet, work itself was doing its’ damnedest to break me, and then I hear ‘Was I swayed and drawn simply by the prospect of being genuinely loved? Not loved as you would understand it. A deeper, more primal love. A need as much as a feeling. Love that consumes you in all ways.’ And it was all I could do not to run.

- ‘You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.’ If that line doesn’t just encapsulate everything I hate about Jonah Magnus…

- So we’ve got a little more information on her and Oliver’s place of work, Good Energies in Archway. Her flat was on Prospero Road, so of course my mind jumps to Shakespeare. But Jane doesn’t feel like a Prospero or Miranda figure, she feels like a Caliban. ‘Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices.’

- ‘… there was a fire that completely destroyed the flat, and killed the landlord, Arthur Nolan.’ That name rings a bell, that’s an agent of The Desolation if memory serves. ‘No signs of trying to escape’ means he did it himself, didn’t he. We haven’t got a date yet for when exactly that happened, unless Jane Prentiss gave this statement and then went immediately home and stuck her arm in the wasps’ nest that same day.

- Ooof, medical staffers, I’m so sorry.

- ‘The Institute was consulted … she had claimed that she was being possessed … decided the situation was medical in nature and our involvement was dropped in favour of, what I can only describe, as a cover-up’. Who made that call? Was it the hospital? Elias? Annabelle?

- ‘It could just be an unknown, aggressive parasite. There are weird things out there that are perfectly natural. It’s not, though. I know it’s not natural.’ Thank you. Thank you Jon, you agree the fact that your work place being besieged by worms is not natural. We’re making progress.

- ‘I’m… I’m going to go lie down.’ Me too babe.

#MAG032 #the magnus archives #The Corruption #The Desolation

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caffeinatedbraincell · 3 years

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Thank you so much for the wonderfully sweet andromaquynh story! 🥰💖 if I may request more since I saw the Touch sheet and uh I’m in love:

24. Whispering in their ear, lips touching their skin, either pairing

Thank you for this ask Shatters!!! And for encouraging me along the way<3 I know it took forever but I hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

The door of Dr. Shukla’s office rattled. Inside, Joe took a sharp breath. Nicky threaded their hands together beneath the table, murmuring reassuringly.

A second later, the doctor walked in, large yellow folder in hand and a stethoscope slung across her neck. Joe and Nicky stood to greet her.

“Please, be seated. It’s alright,” she said, voice low and steady. “I’m Dr. Shukla, a neurologist. I have some CTs and MRIs here of Mr. Yusuf Al-Kaysani’s brain that we’ll be discussing today.”

Joe exhaled shakily as they all sat down. Next to him, Nicky cleared his throat.

“How bad is it, doctor?”

“Good and bad aren’t diagnoses, Mr.…”

“Al-Kaysani. I’m his husband. But call me Nicky, please.”

“Of course, Nicky.” She extracted the prints from the folder. “There is no easy way to put this. The truth is, the symptoms Yusuf is presenting with, and these images from his scans, make it very likely that what we’re dealing with here is early-onset dementia. Possibly Alzheimer’s.”

In the silence that followed, Joe sighed in relief. Finally, someone had said the words. It wasn’t a vague suspicion hanging over his head anymore. It was reality. They could work with reality.

Next to him, Nicky was arguing with the doctor.

“…but how can you be sure? Scans are inconclusive when it comes to diagnosing-”

“I would not have brought this diagnosis to the table if there was any better explanation for what Yusuf is experiencing. Any at all.”

“But-”

“Nicolò.” Joe moved his hand to Nicky’s thigh. He looked at the doctor. “So where do we go from here?”

Dr. Shukla leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I will not mislead you, Yusuf. There is no cure. But there are treatments - therapies, medications, management strategies - that can slow the progression of the disease. You can still live a long and meaningful life.”

“Of course he’ll live a long and meaningful life!” Nicky exclaimed.

“Tesoro, please-”

“Look,” Dr. Shukla said. “I know this is extremely hard. For both of you. But what’s important in this moment is that you take your time to process this news and adapt to it. Be there for each other, and be patient with each other.” She stood and walked over to her computer. “I’m going to put in a prescription for something called Razelon; it’s a cholinesterase inhibitor that will reduce early behavioral symptoms and boost cognitive function.”

“Do we need to pick it up today?” Nicky asked.

“Yes. Yusuf, I’m starting you off on half a pill. We’ll see how you react to it. If it works for you, we can modify the dose as necessary going forward.”

As they stepped out of the clinic into the stinging wind, Joe pulled his coat tighter against his body. At his side, Nicky fumbled with his phone, pulling up the prescription.

“Razelon,” he muttered to himself, typing it into Google. “Look, Joe, it seems to be a fairly common and effective treatment. Actually, it’s good the doctors caught this early. I’m sure we can-”

“Nicky.”

“-make this work until something more effective comes out. Alzheimer’s research is at a revolutionary place right now and-”

“Nicky…”

“-there’s definitely going to be some new, highly effective treatments on the market in a few-”

“Nicolò!”

Nicky froze where he was reaching for his car keys, lips pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“My love, we’ve had over one thousand years together.” Joe stepped forward, gently taking his hands. “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

Nicky shoved him away lightly. “Stop it, Joe. That’s nothing to joke about.”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. I don’t care if it’s been a millennium. If you don’t think I’m going to fight tooth and nail for every second - every single second - we can possibly have together, then you’re wrong. You’re wrong.”

“I will fight with you, my love, I swear. But-”

“But what?”

“But I cannot watch you mourn me while I am still here. Promise me this changes nothing between us, Nicky. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m suddenly made of glass.”

“Says the person who tried to wrap me in literal bubble wrap when we discovered we were mortal.”

Joe snorted. “Touché.”

Nicky stared at him for a second. Then, he leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet. “Get in the car. I’ll buy you a caramel frappucino by the pharmacy, yeah?”

***

“Joe, don’t forget, Nile’s coming over at 8 tonight for dinner, so we’ll have to be back at least an hour before that.”

“I don’t know, tesoro, forgetting is kind of what I do best now,” Joe quipped from the couch.

Nicky stuck his head out of the kitchen testily. “Still not funny, you asshole.”

It has been several months since that fateful day at the clinic, and Joe could tell he was getting worse. He didn’t feel it, exactly; the Razelon was helping, and Dr. Shukla had added an antidepressant to his prescription to ward off the vague sense of dread and loss that sometimes settled in his chest.

No, Joe could tell he was getting worse because of Nicky. The way Nicky never let him make the same mistake twice. Joe had forgotten to take his medication one night, and ever since, Nicky made a ritual of bringing it to him with a glass of water after they brushed their teeth. A few mornings ago, Nicky had seen Joe walk away from the coffee machine without turning it on, and ever since, there would be a freshly brewed pot of coffee on the table before Joe woke up.

It was as if by covering for Joe enough, Nicky could pretend this wasn’t happening at all. Joe frowned deeply at the thought.

“Hey,” Nicky said, coming to sit next to Joe. “What’s wrong, hayati? Would you rather stay in today than go to the beach? I won’t mind, you know.”

Joe shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s…” He furrowed his brow, then sighed in defeat. “Nevermind. Let’s just go to… the place. What you said.”

“The beach?”

“Mhm. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Alright. I’ll get us a bag.” Nicky kissed Joe’s forehead gently and got up to leave.

“Nicky, wait.”

“Yes, love?”

“Is it- Am I getting a lot worse, do you think?” Joe blurted.

Nicky frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s just- You didn’t let me pay rent this month. Usually you remind me, but you did it yourself last week, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I don’t want to make things any harder for you than they already are. Let me be there for you in these little ways, ya qalbi.”

“You are. You’re always there for me. But you’re doing so much now, too much, and I feel like I’m not pulling my weight anymore. I don’t want to become a- a…”

“A burden?”

Joe was already shaking his head, having clocked the disappointment in Nicky’s eyes. “No! No, Nicky, that’s not what I-”

“Joe. I think we should move back to Malta.”

Joe paused, a little taken aback. “Back to Malta? Like, for good?”

“For good.”

“We’ll be far away from Nile and Booker, though.”

“They can come visit whenever they want. They’re still immortal, Joe. We’re not. I want to spend the time we have left in the place I married you one thousand years ago.”

Joe stood up and looped his arms around Nicky’s neck. He grinned as Nicky’s arms circled his waist, pulling him closer. “And you say I’m an incurable romantic.”

Nicky laughed. “So you’re okay with that, then?” he asked, hopeful eyes searching Joe’s.

“More than okay. I can’t wait, amore.”

***

Dinner with Nile was a lovely time, as always.

“How is Booker doing, sorellina?” Nicky asked as he dished second helpings of lasagne onto everyone’s plates.

“Fine,” Nile said with her mouth full. “His therapy group is taking a field trip to the Met tonight, so he couldn’t come. But he said to bring him back some food.”

Joe laughed, turning to Nicky with delight. “Sir, be sure to pack this young lady your restaurant’s finest lasagne, to-go.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “If Booker wants food, he can come get some himself,” he grumbled, nevertheless grabbing a clean tupperware from the counter. “It’s been ages since he’s shown his face around here.”

“He wants to come all the time, I promise,” Nile reassured him. “It’s just so busy now, between jobs and therapy-”

“I keep telling Nicky we can still work the jobs,” Joe cut in. “Just because we’re mortal doesn’t mean we can’t help with intel and stuff. Or Nicky can, at least.”

“And I keep telling you it’s not necessary,” Nile countered, gentle but firm. “It’s important that you two spend this time with each other. And anyway, Booker and I are managing just fine.”

“It can’t be easy, though.” Nicky popped open a bottle of wine. “Do you mind non-alcoholic, Nile? If so, I can pull up another-”

“No, no, non-alcoholic is great. And to tell you the truth, we are taking on less now. Choosing our battles more carefully. But the ones we choose, we’re fighting them better, I think.”

Joe sat back, smiling fondly. “Good. Good. I think we’ve all been prioritizing doing a better job of living. But the offer always stands, Nile. If you two ever need some extra hands, we’re here.”

Over lasagne and wine, the conversation ebbed and flowed late into the night. It was nearly 2AM when Joe stood up, yawning.

“Bed, habibi?” Nicky asked.

“Hmm. I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Let me get you your medicine. Nile, would you mind moving the dishes to the sink? I’ll be back in a minute to wash them.”

Nile stood up, piling the dishes together. Joe and Nicky walked towards the bedroom.

As Joe settled into bed, Nicky puttered around to arrange his pills and a glass of water.

“Nicky, we forgot to tell Nile about the plan. That we’re going to move back to, uh…” Joe’s eyes widened in mild horror as he struggled to remember. “Malta! Malta. We’re moving back to Malta.”

Nicky walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He lovingly cupped Joe’s face, leaning in to rest their foreheads together.

“I’ll tell her. Here. You take this medicine and rest. I should go-”

“Do you want to see what I drew at the beach?” Joe cut in. He didn’t want Nicky to leave just yet.

“Ya amar, of course I do. Where is your sketchbook, still in the bag? I’ll get it.”

Nicky handed him the book, and Joe flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.

“It would have been better if I had colors, but…”

He held out the book to Nicky, who promptly forgot how to breathe. Done in nothing but ordinary pencil graphite was his own profile, set against the background of a stunning black and white sunset. The fading rays of light gleamed on the ocean’s surface, and the waves looked, magically, like they could move.

“Do you like it?” Joe asked. Nicky realized he’d been staring in silence. He set the book on the nightstand and wrapped a hand behind Joe’s head, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love it,” he said, kissing him again. “I love you. It’s beautiful. Everything you make is beautiful, but this one especially so. And you’re beautiful.”

Joe giggled beneath the onslaught of kisses and praise. “You’re a sap. Now go, Nile is waiting for you.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“Come back soon.”

Nicky grinned. “It’s almost 3AM. I won’t be long; Nile is probably exhausted, too.”

“Tell her to stay the night,” Joe mumbled, already half asleep. “Too late to drive.”

“I’ll tell her, love. Sleep well.”

“Tell me what?” Nile asked as Nicky returned to the living room.

“To stay the night, it’s late.” He looked towards the kitchen. “Where are the dishes?”

“I washed them, they’re on the drying rack.”

“Sorellina! You are a guest!”

“I’m family. I can help with the dishes,” Nile argued, rolling her eyes.

Nicky smiled, settling down next to her on the couch. Nile shifted, curling up close to his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“How are you doing?” she asked after a beat.

“Fine, Joe’s been-”

“I said you, Nicky.”

Nicky hesitated. “I’m alright, I think. Life is not harder now, not really. It’s nice to spend our days enjoying each other’s company, without having to worry about jobs and stuff. But…”

“But?”

“I can’t shake this sense of… loss? Our every interaction is tinged with it. He is the one diagnosed, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who’s losing my sense of reality. I feel untethered.” Nicky broke off with a dry chuckle. “He gets upset if I’m too sad around him, so I try not to show it.”

“Oh.”

“Is it terribly greedy of me, Nile?”

“What?”

“That we’ve had over a thousand years together, more than anyone else in human history, and all I can think of is that it’s not enough. That I’m not ready. That I want more.”

“Love always wants more, Nicky. And no one is ever ready, no matter how much or how little time we have. Like, Andy and Quynh, right? You knew them for centuries, I knew them for a few years. But neither of us were ready to lose them.”

“I can’t do that again, Nile,” Nicky said wearily, feeling the full weight of his years. “I can’t mourn anyone else. I can’t mourn Joe.”

“You already are.”

Nicky’s eyes snapped to hers. “Wha- what do you mean by that? He said something like that, too.”

“You’re mourning the parts of him he’s already forgotten. You’re mourning the Joe who remembered his sisters’ names. The Joe who could differentiate San Paolo ‘34 from Berlin ‘27. The Joe who-”

“Stop.” Nicky squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s still here. My Joe is still here.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Nile said. “Think about the Joe you fell in love with outside of Jerusalem, Nicky. Now think of Joe sleeping inside. Everything has changed, but you still love him. What was it you fell in love with, the one thing that’s remained constant? His body? His mind?”

“His soul.”

“And can Alzheimer’s touch that? Can death?”

Nicky sniffled. He kissed the top of Nile’s head. “You’re far too wise for your age, you know.”

“I’ve had practice,” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Will you stay the night?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Nile ended up finding out about Malta the next morning, when Joe mentioned moving plans to Nicky over breakfast.

“You didn’t tell her last night, tesoro?”

“I meant to. But I guess we were all really tired.”

“I think it’s a great idea. When are you two planning to move?” Nile asked.

“As soon as possible. Joe and I were looking at flights for this weekend.”

Nile nodded. “Booker and I can help you pack. How’s tonight?”

“Fine, if a bit early. We don’t have that much stuff,” Joe said between sips of coffee. “At least not here. There are some things in the safehouses…”

“Sure. You and Nicky make a list whenever you’re free, and I’ll make a few trips with Booker and ship everything to the Malta address.”

“You’re an angel, sorellina,” Nicky said.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Joe looked back and forth between them, trying to memorize this moment. Nicolò di Genova is reading the paper, he thought. Nile Freeman is eating toast. Nile is married to Sebastien Le Livre, whom we call Booker. Booker isn’t here because he was- he had-

“Did Booker send you any pictures from the Met?” Nicky asked Nile.

Ah. He’d gone to the Met with his therapy group.

Nile shook her head. “A few cute ones they took outside, but I think the exhibit they went to see didn’t allow photography. He’ll probably have some brochure pictures to talk our ears off about later, though.” She smiled fondly. “It’s our turn to bring something over for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Absolutely not,” Nicky argued. “I love cooking for you guys. Let me make dinner. You’ll be stuck with your own cooking once we leave for Malta, anyway.”

Nile gasped in mock offense. “Well, someone has an inflated sense of their own abilities.”

“Habibi, listen, she’s disparaging my cooking,” Nicky complained.

“You insulted her first, my love. If you can dish it, you’d better take it.”

Nile laughed at the look of utter betrayal on Nicky’s face as she walked her empty plate to the sink.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said. “I’ll be back with Booker around 7. And fine, looks like dinner’s on you, Nicky.”

“I’m making poisoned mushroom risotto.”

“Suit yourself, I’m not the one who’s mortal.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nicky muttered around a grin as Nile and Joe high-fived. “See you later, Nile.”

***

Midnights were Nicky’s favorite part of Malta. The sky hung heavy like a black velvet blanket, and the sparkle of the stars reminded him of Joe’s eyes.

In the months since they’d arrived, Joe’s health had taken an undeniable turn for the worse. They’d talked to Dr. Shukla and doubled his dose of Razelon. Soon after, they’d doubled it again. But the disease progressed with a vengeance of lifetimes, as if it was trying to recompense Joe’s immortality by cutting his mortal life short.

Nowadays, Nicky almost never left Joe’s side, from waking him up in the morning, to bathing him, to feeding him, to taking him on long walks to visit their favorite places.

And truly, there was nowhere he’d rather be. But Nicky was wracked with guilt over the terrifying intensity with which he missed Joe. He found himself clinging fervently to Joe’s few and far-between moments of lucidity, dreading the day when Joe would look at him and no longer remember his name.

A tear startled Nicky as it slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, leaning over the balcony railing and breathing in the sleeping city.

“Nicky?”

Nicky whirled around. “Joe? You’re not asleep?”

“I woke up. I- I missed you.”

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d wake up. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

As they settled back under the covers together, Joe reached for Nicky’s hand and squeezed gently.

“What is it, hayati?”

“Nicky, I need to tell you something.”

Nicky turned to face him. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

There was a tense pause. Then-

“Do you know how much I look forward to this, Joe? These brief minutes when you’re present, fully alert and oriented? Tell me, have I waited for this moment only to hear you say those words?”

“I just- I want you to know that you can leave. This is only going to get worse, Nicky. You didn’t sign up to change my diapers.”

“I didn’t sign up for immortality, either. But I embraced over a thousand years of it, Joe. Because I was in it with you.”

Joe rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

Nicky groaned, propping himself up on an elbow. “Listen here, you idiot. I know I can leave. I could’ve left when you offered me your hand outside of Jerusalem. I could’ve left when we had our first fight. I could’ve left when we lost Quynh. I could’ve left after WWII, when we became so depressed that we could hardly stand the sight of each other.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you, Joe. I don’t ever want to leave you.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”

“And if I say I do want you to?”

“I’d tell you not to be a martyr.” Nicky sighed in frustration. “What would you do if it were me, Joe? Would you walk away?”

Joe’s breath hitched. He immediately shook his head.

“Why?” Nicky barrelled on. “Because of some twisted sense of morality? Because of some obligation-”

“Because I love you, amore. I would suffer a hundred deaths to spend just one hour more in your arms.”

Nicky slowly lay back down. He cupped Joe’s tear-stained cheek, tenderly guiding their lips together in a warm kiss.

“See? Can we drop this, now?”

Joe nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, ya qalbi.”

They drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, exchanging quiet kisses and hums of contentment. The next morning, Nicky realized he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It was their wedding anniversary. Their original wedding anniversary, the approximate date they’d gotten married in Malta over a thousand years ago.

Nicky had meant to be absolutely insufferable about it, to go on and on about it from at least three days prior. That way, Joe would remember. He wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of forgetting, or the reality that his dementia no longer afforded him keeping track of the date.

Instead, Nicky had all but forgotten as well, only to be jarringly reminded by the date flashing on his phone.

He cursed as he fiddled with the coffee machine, analyzing his options. First option, he could simply remind Joe that today was their anniversary. Slip it into casual conversation or something.

But then he imagined Joe’s eyes going wide with shock and sadness as it sunk in that this is where they were at, now. He imagined Joe apologizing profusely for not planning anything special for Nicky. He imagined the guilt that any further attempts to celebrate would be tinged with, and that just wouldn’t do.

Second option, Nicky decided. He would simply not say anything. They’d treat this just like any other day, and what Joe didn’t remember wouldn’t hurt him. Something ugly twisted in Nicky’s gut at the thought that this could be their last anniversary together, but he stubbornly shoved it down. He could do this for Joe.

“Nicky?” Joe’s voice echoed down the hall. Nicky quickly switched on the coffee machine and returned to their bedroom.

“You’re awake already, love. Did you sleep well?”

Joe nodded, looking a little dazed. Slowly, his eyes focused on Nicky. He smiled. “Can we go brush my teeth? I want to kiss you.”

Nicky laughed, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “How about a kiss first, beautiful?”

Joe’s smile went soft, his gaze drifting languidly to Nicky’s lips. “Okay.”

Nicky reached for Joe’s hand as they kissed, threading their fingers together. Joe made a small noise of happiness, draping his other arm over Nicky’s shoulder and pressing closer.

This is enough, Nicky realized with startling clarity. This is more than enough for celebrating today. If he’s happy, I’m happy.

***

Awareness was strange for Joe, these days. Dr. Shukla had told him that no two people experience Alzheimer’s the same way; it was better to observe what happens than to expect a specific process.

These days, life often felt like working on the corner of a painting, some zoomed-in fragment for his mind to get lost in. He would zone out and zone back in, switching between his immediate reality and some dark, floaty place deep inside his consciousness. Any concept of the “bigger picture” seemed uncannily absent.

It would be terrifying, he knew, if not for Nicky. My husband, Joe thought fondly. That, at least, he had not forgotten yet.

Joe’s body still remembered perfectly well what his mind could no longer articulate. Nicky’s hand in his hand, Nicky’s lips on his lips. The instinctive way he’d reach out for comfort and find Nicky there, calm eyes and steady arms and gentle smile.

“Joe?”

With tremendous effort, Joe pulled himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on the voice. “Hmm?”

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t strain yourself.” Nicky rested a hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he immediately relaxed. “I’m making pastizzi. You remember pastizzi?”

Joe furrowed his brow. He doubted the word alone would have meant anything to him, but combined with the savory smell wafting from the kitchen, a fuzzy memory clicked into place.

“Favorite.”

Nicky chuckled softly. “That’s right. It’s your favorite.”

“Special. It’s for special days. Is today something special?”

Nicky startled like a deer in headlights. “Uh, wha- Yes! Of course it is.” He leaned down to kiss Joe’s curls. “Every day with you is so, so special, my love. It goes without saying, does it not?”

Joe grinned guilelessly, taking Nicky’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “Is Andromache coming?”

“Andromache is not here, sweetheart.” Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe, swaying gently from side to side. “It’s just us, for now.”

“That sounds nice, too.”

“What do you want to do after breakfast today?”

“Draw. I want to draw you. But can we take a nap first?”

“Of course.” Nicky unwound his arms from Joe and walked into the kitchen. “You got up too early today, habibi. I told you, you should rest more. You’ll be tired all day, otherwise.”

“I only like to sleep with you, tesoro.”

Nicky barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Here, let’s eat. Then we’ll nap together.”

Joe enjoyed breakfast, taking comfort in the familiar, grounding taste of Nicky’s homemade pastizzi. And he definitely enjoyed falling asleep in his husband’s arms, head pillowed on Nicky’s chest, bathed in the late morning sunlight.

When Joe woke up, it was in one of those increasingly rare and precious moments of clarity. Nicky lay beside him, still fast asleep. Joe stared unabashedly, marveling at how Nicky managed to look even more soft and peaceful than usual in his sleep. He reached for his sketchbook and began drawing.

As the hours passed, portraits turned into poetry, and poetry into letters. Joe wondered, for a moment, if he should wake Nicky up for lunch, but he was loath to disrupt the little rest that Nicky managed to get these days.

Instead, Joe sat quietly by his side, taking advantage of his own lucidity to write a letter to Nile and Booker. He vaguely recalled Nicky mentioning that they would visit at some point, and he wanted to make sure he could convey what he wanted to say to them.

Just as Joe was wrapping up, Nicky stirred beside him.

“Joe?” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Sono qui.”

Nicky glanced at the bedside clock. He scrambled to sit up, gently taking Joe’s face in his hands.

“Hayati, why didn’t you wake me? It’s three in the afternoon! Oh my love, aren’t you hungry? Did you drink water today?”

Joe smiled, kissing Nicky softly. “I went and drank water. I accidentally dropped a glass, though-”

“That’s alright.”

“-and don’t worry, I’m not hungry yet. Breakfast was very filling. You looked so relaxed sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you for no reason.”

“I’m so sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to crash like that. How long have you been up?”

“Since noon. But please, amore, don’t apologize. You deserve to rest.” Nicky opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Joe pushed on. “Do you want to see what I drew? And I wrote you a poem, can I read it to you?”

Nicky’s expression softened, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. “Absolutely, Joe. Show me everything you’ve sketched and written. Then we can go out for a late lunch, okay?”

To Joe’s immense satisfaction, the mental fog largely stayed away for the rest of the day. There were moments, of course, when all he could do was hold Nicky’s hand and follow his footsteps, mind eerily blank except for the buzz of physical sensation right beneath the surface.

But for the most part, Joe was present. He recognized by name the café they stopped by for lunch and the restaurant they went to for dinner. In between, when they visited il-Moskea, Joe was able to pray properly for the first time in weeks. Nicky had prayed alongside him, and as Joe listened to the quiet recitation of Quran verses from his lips, peace had seemed so easy. So reachable.

“Lean forward, hayati,” Nicky murmured. The moment they’d come home, Nicky had started a hot bath for Joe. Joe complied, leaning forward until the lightly scented bubbles tickled his beard. “Feels good?” Nicky asked, swiping a washcloth over his back.

“So good. Ti amo, Nicky.”

“Ti amo tanto. Now lean back, let’s rinse.”

“Did we- did we used to do this before?”

“What, bathing?” Nicky teased.

“Shut up. I mean, bathing each other. It feels familiar. An ancient ritual from way before I got sick.”

“Hmm.”

“But I can’t remember, Nicky. I visit the place in my heart where I stored those memories, and it’s empty. Like they’ve been stolen.”

Joe heard the distress creep into his tone, and he was sure Nicky could hear it, too. Sure enough, Nicky set the washcloth down and cupped Joe’s face.

“Hey, shhh. Just breathe, my love. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I feel like I keep hurting you when I forget important things about us. I don’t want to make you sad. But I can’t help it, Nicky, I don’t know-”

“Joe, ya amar, this isn’t your fault. You never make me sad, do you hear me? And it’s okay if you can’t remember. Getting to be here with you, in this moment, is so much more important to me than anything that came before.”

Joe lowered his eyes, unconvinced.

Nicky sighed. “Hey. The water is getting cold. Let me get your towel from the dryer, I’ll just be a moment.”

Seconds after Nicky left, his phone buzzed, sliding from the toilet lid to the floor. Joe frowned, extending a shaky arm out of the tub to put it back.

But as he picked up the phone, Joe caught sight of the date. June 18th. His frown deepened. June 18th, June 18th, June 18th…

Joe had no idea how he did it, but somehow, he managed to put two and two together. The pastizzi for breakfast. Their favorite restaurants. The trip to the mosque. The way Nicky’s hands had been impossibly gentler today, the way his eyes shined even softer with love.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s our anniversary?” Joe demanded as soon as Nicky set foot in the bathroom.

Nicky froze. “Joe. How in God’s name did you remember that?”

“I figured it out.”

Nicky set the freshly washed towel on the toilet lid and knelt by the tub. “Joe-”

“You were celebrating it without telling me.” Joe sniffled, mortified to feel tears pooling in his eyes. Of all the things dementia had taken from him, this had to be the worst. He hadn’t even bought Nicky a present.

“Yusuf, please. Please let me explain?” Nicky begged, reaching into the tepid water to hold Joe’s hands.

Joe shook his head, feeling the tears slip loose. Nicky drew a shaky breath, leaning forward to kiss them away. He was crying, too, Joe realized with a start.

“Perdonami, my heart. Perdonami. I didn’t think you’d remember. I didn’t say anything because you would have been devastated that- that it’s gotten this bad. I couldn’t bear you blaming yourself for something so utterly out of your control.”

Joe didn’t reply.

“Joe, listen to me. It’s just a date on the calendar, my love.”

“I don’t want to forget you,” Joe whispered.

A sob caught in Nicky’s throat. He pulled off his shirt and stepped into the tub, wrapping Joe in his arms. Joe tucked his face into Nicky’s neck and cried like a baby.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Nicky croaked, rocking them back and forth. “Everything will be okay.”

It was late by the time they dried off and made it to bed, not bothering with clothes. Joe watched as Nicky put a second comforter at the foot of their bed, in case it got cold during the night. When they were finally snuggled together beneath the covers, Joe spoke.

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“If- when I forget you, will you forgive me?”

Nicky pulled him closer, inhaling deeply as he tangled a hand in Joe’s hair. “There will be nothing to forgive, hayati.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose-”

“I know, Yusuf. I know. You never need to explain yourself to me.”

“Nicolò, promise me that- promise me that you won’t forget. Please don’t forget me.” Joe muffled a whimper, pressing closer until he could feel Nicky’s heart beating against his chest.

There was a long silence. When Nicky spoke, his voice was the steadiest Joe had ever heard.

“My beloved, I promise you that I will not forget. Whether or not you remember, whether or not you can even tell I’m there, I will be at your side for as long as we have together. I will take care of you in every way I know how. And when there is nothing left to do, I will honor your memory until my dying breath. I promise.”

Joe couldn’t reply, couldn’t breathe, as he felt his eyes well up again. His husband rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back, and gradually, the moment of terror passed. Joe relaxed into the sensation, falling asleep to the rhythm of Nicky’s heart and the echo of his magnanimous words.

***

“He doesn’t speak much, now,” Nicky briefed Nile and Booker as he helped carry their overnight bags in. “You’ll have to introduce yourselves.”

Months had passed since their anniversary, and Nicky was adjusting to this new life right alongside Joe. Their dynamic had changed, but their love had not.

Joe no longer walked up behind Nicky and hugged him while he cooked. Nicky no longer woke up at 2AM to find Joe hunched over his sketchbook, struck by some untimely inspiration. They’d never had much need for words, but now, verbal conversation was even rarer.

Instead, they spoke the well-loved language of gentle touches, of midday naps wrapped in each other’s arms. A spontaneous kiss never failed to make Joe smile, and Joe’s smile was enough to make Nicky’s entire day. Their interactions fell back on a bedrock of trust one thousand years in the making. Of course there were bad days - days colored with grief and sickness and loneliness - but far more often, Nicky found his heart flooded with quiet gratitude.

“Hello, Joe,” Nile said, kneeling in front of Joe’s chair and taking his hand. “I’m Nile. It’s lovely to see you.”

Joe said nothing, but his lips curved up in a tentative smile. Booker came forward and knelt next to Nile.

“Hey, buddy. It’s Booker. Long time no see. I don’t know how much of this you understand, Joe, but I hope you know that we love you. So, so much.”

“Hmm,” Joe grunted softly. He turned his other palm over in his lap, as if in invitation. Booker wrapped his hands around Joe’s, eyes shining as he brought it to his lips with reverence.

“I think he knows, Booker,” Nicky smiled fondly. “Come on, I made rice. You two must be hungry from the long plane ride.”

It was later that night, after everyone had eaten and napped, that Nicky remembered about the letters. Joe sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, watching with interest as Nicky, Nile, and Booker played Snakes & Ladders on the coffee table.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Nicky exclaimed.

“What?” Nile asked.

“No, no, no - stop trying to distract us,” Booker said shrewdly. “You’re about to land on that snake and you know it. No cheating.”

Nile laughed. “He’s right. Take the fall, old man. You’re back to square five. Come on.”

Nicky scowled, sliding his piece all the way down the board. He’d been so close to winning.

From the couch, Joe snickered. Nile and Booker looked at him in surprise.

“He understands what’s going on?” Booker asked incredulously.

“Just enough to know when to laugh at me.” Nicky rolled his eyes, stopping to kiss Joe’s forehead as he walked away. A soft smile melted across Joe’s face, and he snuggled deeper into his blanket.

“I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but here we are,” Nile commented. “Joe, you’re a sap, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” Nicky countered as he returned with the envelopes. “Remind me again what you gave Booker for your last anniversary?”

“A five-page poem comparing our love to the heavens from five different religious traditions,” Booker bragged. “It was the best thing I’ve ever read.”

Nile blushed furiously. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Hey, what are those?”

Nicky held up the envelopes. “Joe wrote us letters a few months back. One is for you two, and the other one is for me. But he said I couldn’t open mine until I gave you guys yours.”

Nicky handed Nile one of the envelopes and slipped the other into the pocket of his hoodie. Joe watched with mild curiosity, clearly not recognizing the letters.

“Should we call it a night?” Booker asked. “It’s nearly 1AM.”

“Quitting while you’re in the lead, Book?” Nicky teased. “But no, I think that’s a great idea. Joe would normally have slept hours ago.”

“He doesn’t look tired,” Nile observed.

“That’s because he’s entertained. He loves when people visit.”

The four of them walked towards the bedrooms. Nile and Booker waved goodbye to Joe as Nicky guided him into their room, before continuing down the hallway to the guest room.

“Nicky’s set everything up for us,” Nile appreciated. “These sheets are so soft.”

“That man works too hard. I worry about him.” Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know, Nile, I feel like we should hang around here more. Help Nicky out, spend more time with Joe.”

Nile stepped out of her clothes and curled up under the covers. Booker followed suit.

“We could,” she agreed. “I would appreciate the change of pace. And of course, having the family together will be nice.”

“But you would get restless.”

“Me and you both, Book.” Nile turned to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I know, I know the point of immortality isn’t to fight all the time. But when we’re not fighting, I feel like we’re wasting this gift.”

“Yeah. I’ve had centuries longer to get used to immortality, and I still feel that way.”

“Maybe we could visit more often?”

“Hmm,” Booker smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Hey. Should we open Joe’s letter?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.” Booker propped himself up against the headboard, holding out an arm to Nile. She snuggled up next to him, carefully opening the envelope.

“Here we go.”

***

There were good days, and there were bad days. Nicky had spent centuries caring for the world, and now, he savored the years he’d been given to care for his world.

Nile and Booker visited more now, and Nicky sensed, deep down, that something had changed. Late-stage Alzheimer’s had not been easy on Joe - the darkness that came with cognitive decline was an extremely unpleasant experience for someone who preferred putting their emotions into words. And then, as Joe’s motor skills wore down, he’d found himself increasingly cut off from his art. Nicky had ached for him, helpless to provide much relief.

But these days, there was a calmness about Joe that hadn’t been there before. The anxiety gave way to an aura of peace, especially when Joe could see or hear Nicky nearby. Often, Nicky would stop whatever he was doing to just come sit with Joe, trying to absorb some of his serenity. It was like being in the presence of someone deep in meditation.

One night, Nicky returned to their bedroom after doing the dishes to find Joe sitting up against the headboard.

“Still awake, hayati?” He shook out the sheets as he undressed for bed, not expecting a response.

“Nicolò.”

Nicky froze. Surely he’d hallucinated that; it had been over a year since Joe was able to recognize him by name. He didn’t dare look up.

“Nicolò, my beloved,” Joe repeated, voice hoarse with disuse. Nicky closed his eyes, clamping down on a sob. He tossed the sheets aside and crawled into bed, reaching for Joe.

“What is it?” Nicky asked as he took Joe’s hands in his own, kissing his cold knuckles. “Tell me.”

“It’s time.”

“No,” Nicky shook his head, wrapping his arms around Joe. He was utterly unprepared for this. “No, no, please God, please, no…”

Nicky clung to Joe, sobbing unrestrainedly into his shoulder. This couldn’t be happening. This was madness. A nightmare, Nicky decided - a particularly torturous nightmare that he would soon wake up from. And Joe would be next to him, perfectly fine, their lives untouched by this ugly monster of a disease.

When he finally calmed down enough to pull back, Nicky found Joe watching him, eyes round with unshed tears. The moment of lucidity had passed, Nicky realized. All Joe could see now was his seemingly causeless distress.

Joe tightened his grip on Nicky’s arm minutely in a silent question, and Nicky almost wanted to laugh. Even now, Joe was still checking in with him.

“It’s nothing, love.” Nicky wiped his eyes quickly. “Let’s sleep, yeah? You must be tired.”

Nicky helped Joe lie down on his back before lying down next to him. He pulled Joe closer, gently kissing the shell of his ear.

“I love you,” Nicky murmured, the words feeling like too much and not enough. “I’m going to tell you a story tonight, okay?”

Joe grunted his assent, already half asleep. Nicky closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. He thought back to Joe’s letter, to the words he’d memorized the very night he read them.

When the time comes, amore mio, I ask that you hold me close. And speak to me, please. I want to hear everything - how we met in Jerusalem, our adventures with Andy and Quynh, all the bets you lost to Booker, the delight on Nile’s face when you let her use the paints you’d preserved from the 1500s. I want to hear about all the times we got married, and all the anniversaries we celebrated. Most of all, Nicky, I want to hear your voice. I want to move on from this world surrounded by you, your beautiful voice, your loving hands.

And in case I can’t tell you then, I love you. Deep down, I think I’ve always loved you, even before we made peace. And I know I will always love you, be it in this world or the next. Please never doubt this, my all. I love you so much.

Nicky struggled for a moment to regain control, overwhelmed at the memory. Then, lips touching Joe’s ear, he began to speak. He held Joe in his arms as he whispered their story into the silence of the night. Joe sighed deeply in his sleep, pliant in Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky had no idea how long he continued on - hours, at least. There was so much to say. He talked and talked until he fell asleep next to Joe, right where he belonged.

***

“Abort mission,” Nile hissed into the comms. “Code Red. Meet me at the checkpoint ASAP.”

Minutes later, Booker jogged up to the checkpoint. “What happened? Are you okay? I’d almost gotten through-” Booker stopped, noticing Nile’s tear-streaked face. His tone softened immediately. “Mon amour, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Nile sniffled. “Joe’s gone, Book. He’s gone.”

Booker staggered backwards like he’d been slapped. “Gone?! What the fuck do you mean, gone?”

Nile pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Voicemail.” She held out her phone.

Booker put the phone to his ear and listened. He heard Nicky’s voice, quiet and anguished, but felt oddly removed from the whole situation. What language was Nicky speaking? It sounded like Italian, so why wasn’t it making sense?

“Hey, Book? Talk to me, love. Hey.”

Nile’s voice, Booker thought. It sounded like she was talking to him through a very long cardboard tube. His vision swam. Everything seemed so distorted.

“Booker!”

The next thing he knew, Booker was blinking up at Nile from the ground, head half in her lap.

“Do not pass out on me,” Nile muttered through gritted teeth. “Get up, Book, please. I can’t do this. Not alone. Please.”

Booker felt an itch on his cheek, but when he reached up to scratch it, his hand came away wet with tears. Nicky’s words, tinny and wrecked with sorrow, floated back into his head.

It suddenly struck him that Nicky was an ocean away, alone with his grief. Booker pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to Nile.

“Come on. We have to go to Malta.”

They fought on the trip, during a two-hour layover in Spain. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, it was no surprise their tempers ran unusually short.

“What do you mean, let him be?” Nile assuredly did not yell. She was simply disagreeing loudly. “He’s lost his life partner of a thousand years, Book! He needs support - he needs family.”

“And what makes you think we can be that for him? What makes you think we can even start to fill the void left by Joe’s absence?!”

“It’s not about filling the damn void-”

“You don’t know what it’s like! When I lost my mortal wife, I felt like I’d lost everything! Even though I had Andy, and Joe, and Nicky, and- and you.”

“You were entitled to your grief, Book. So is Nicky. But I lost people too, so don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what it’s like. I’m immortal, too. I’ve lost my parents. It’s not just you.”

“No, that’s not- Listen! It took me centuries, centuries, to overcome that grief. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have done it if I had a choice. All I’m saying is… Nicky has a choice, Nile. He’s mortal.”

Nile’s eyes went wide. “So you’re saying we just- let him take his own life?!”

“I’m saying it’s not our decision to make! And it’s not… morally wrong or something if he chooses that. Look, chronic pain is real, Nile, whether it’s physical or emotional. Everyone who can has a right to opt out.”

“This isn’t the same thing as euthenasia, Book.”

“It’s not so different either, is it?”

There was a minute of silence as they stared daggers at each other across the terminal bench. Then Booker sighed.

“They’re closer than we could ever imagine, Nile. They’re one soul, two bodies. If he wants to go, we have to let him go.”

Nile sat down, running a hand down her face in devastation. “What about the letter?”

“What letter?”

“You know what letter. Joe’s letter. He asked us for one thing, Booker. One thing only. And that was that we don’t let Nicky die of a broken heart.”

“It doesn’t matter. Joe’s not here. Nicky is.”

“How could you dismiss his last wishes like that?”

“Nile, look at me. What do you think Joe wants above all else? What’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted?”

“For Nicky to be happy,” Nile whispered after a beat. “Love, can’t we at least try? Can’t we just… be there for him?”

“Of course,” Booker said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “Of course. But we cannot choose for him, amour. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Nile sniffled, not entirely convinced. “Okay. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m just really…” Booker waved a hand in the air, trying to find the words. “Broken. I feel broken. Like I’m not myself.”

“I understand. I feel like that, too.”

“Hey. We don’t board for another 20 minutes. Can I get you a coffee?”

Nile managed a tired half-smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

***

In the end, it took four days of sleeping on Nicky’s couch for them to convince Nicky to drink water. It was another two days before he could keep down any food.

On the ninth day, Nicky broke down in front of them for the first time, crying his heart out as Booker and Nile just held him, murmuring gentle nothings and waiting out the tears.

They decided, at length, to take the year off from missions. They stayed with Nicky in the large house, trying to make it feel less empty. The grief would hit each of them at different times, and when it did, the other two would be there, always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on.

Within a year, the depression was slowly starting to lift. None of them had quite moved on, but they were very deliberately trying to make peace with this new reality.

Nicky fell back on simple rituals. Across from his bed, where he could see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he pinned up one of Joe’s charcoal self-portraits. Nicky loved it for how raw and alive it was in its beauty; not simply an image of Joe, but one that still carried traces of his fingertips in the sweeping strokes, the perspective of his eyes in the lighting.

Every morning, Nicky would kiss the tips of his fingers and press them to the bottom of the portrait in benediction. Then, he would close his eyes, letting the love and sorrow flow freely in his chest for a few minutes.

“I will see you again, hayati,” he would say. “Wait for me by the gates of Heaven, just as you did by the gates of Jerusalem. I will be with you again soon.”

It was a ritual that Nile and Booker supported wholeheartedly.

“Tell Joe to say hi to Andy for me,” Booker would add.

“Tell Joe I miss him. No one else will geek out with me over the Impressionist Movement,” Nile would grumble.

Sometimes, Nicky thought, it was like Joe was simply away on a mission. Like he would walk back through the door at any moment.

“Maybe he never left,” Nile mused once when Nicky voiced this thought. The three of them were sitting on the veranda, sipping hot tea and watching people mull about on the street.

Nicky frowned. “I want his soul to be at peace, Nile. Not wandering around like a ghost.”

“You know what they say. Not all who wander are lost.”

“I do feel like he’s here, sometimes,” Nicky confessed. “People say that your loved ones never truly leave you, that they stay alive in your heart, but I always figured it was a metaphor. I never imagined it could feel so real.”

“Can I ask you something, Nicky?” Booker’s voice shook slightly with hesitation.

“Hmm, go ahead.”

“How- how did you survive?”

Nicky rubbed his eyes. “Joe would never forgive me if I didn’t. That was the main reason. But I also believe that this is my penance.”

“For what?”

“For how we met. For what I did to him, to his people, his family. All this pain - being without him, mourning him - this is what finally cleanses me of my actions. It hurts, every day it hurts, but I can’t bring myself to run from it.” He stared down into his tea for a long moment. “I will continue on until it is my time, because it’s what my Joe would have wanted.”

***

Three years after Joe’s passing, Nicky finally gathered the courage to sort through his things. As he carried a stack of notebooks from the closet to the bed, one slipped to the ground and fell open.

Nicky set the others down and picked it up, running his fingertips over the page. It was a poem, written in Joe’s familiar cursive.

Empires rise and fall In a blink of God’s eye, The laws of nature bend As what’s mortal becomes divine. And the realization dawns When I see I’m left behind, Humankind’s greatest inheritance Is losing something to time.

As Nicky contemplated this, his cell phone blared to life on the nightstand. He reached for it distractedly.

“Hello?”

“Nicky,” Nile gasped on the other end.

“Nile? Dio, isn’t it like 3AM there?”

“Yeah, I woke up. How fast can you get to Medina?”

“Uh… I could book a flight for a few hours out?”

“Great, do that. Booker and I are already on the way to the airport.”

“Wha- Nile, slow down. What’s going on?”

There was a brief pause. Then-

“We had this dream. There’s a new one.”

16 notes · View notes

spooks-and-tea · 4 years

Text

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,119

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11.

It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.

Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.

It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly. You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.

Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.

You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.

Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.

You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.

You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"

Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.

"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.

Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...

"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"

And that is definitely...

"I-I don't think that's necessary."

You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.

How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.

"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.

She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.

"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."

"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.

You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.

"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.

Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.

"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.

Oh my god. I must be dreaming.

You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.

"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Pinch me."

"What? Why?"

"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"

You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.

"Pinch me. Hard."

Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.

"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This is real. Spencer Reid is real.

You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.

"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.

"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.

"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.

For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.

"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.

"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.

"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"

You frowned to yourself.

"It's possible."

It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.

"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.

"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.

"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.

You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.

You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?

You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.

"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.

Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.

"Is that a sign of head trauma?"

"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."

You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.

Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.

"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.

"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.

"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.

"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."

Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."

The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."

You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.

Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.

"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.

"Sure."

"Is there a lake near by?"

"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."

"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."

You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?

You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?

Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size

"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.

You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.

"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.

Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.

Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.

If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.

Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?

A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.

Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.

"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.

The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.

You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.

"Y/N."

You weakly turned your head.

Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.

He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.

Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.

Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.

"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"

You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.

He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.

Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.

"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.

"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.

"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."

You nodded, weakly.

Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.

"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."

If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.

He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.

A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.

One thought repeated over and over again in your head.

This is real.

You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life.

Next Chapter

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #drama #romance #cm

84 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 4 years

Text

Deobi Playlist (EP 8) | The Boyz Imagine

Ep 8: In which Mae and Kevin have THE TALK, and Juyeon and Hyunjae gossip about them.

The Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main characters: Kevin, Juyeon, Hyunjae and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz

Genre: fluff, slice of life, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10 | EP 11

----------

Kevin's heart is racing in his chest and up his throat. Suddenly, it feels a little too hot in the room, his coat weighing down on his shoulders like wet clothing that makes him want to squirm in place.

He knows he can't avoid this forever. But he also can't seem to look into Mae's eyes, for fear of what he might find there.

"Kevin?"

Running a hand over his face and allowing a sigh to escape, he answers, "yes. Yes, I do."

He focuses his attention on her feet. Silence reigns over the room as he contemplates whether he should bolt out of the door.

"You idiot."

He forces himself not to wince, preparing for the rain of rejections that will splatter his body like arrows.

And then, Mae is punching his shoulder, "you idiot. You're so stupid."

Surprised, his eyes flutter up to her face only to see her flustered, somewhat guilty expression. Realization dawns, chest releasing its tension.

He grabs her wrist in mid-punch to halt her actions, unconsciously pulling her closer as he does so and there's no chance of hiding his joyous surprise when the said woman averts her eyes this time as though she is embarrassed.

"I like you too," comes her mumble, "why didn't you tell me?"

"How was I supposed to tell you? I was friendzoned before I even tried."

"I didn't friendzone you."

"You kept saying how you'd never date any of us because we were like brothers to you."

"Okay fine," she pauses, "I might have said that. But that's beside the point. The point is…"

She trails off unsurely then and Kevin's heart practically skips a beat at how close they are. A little closer and his lips can touch her cheek.

"The point is that we're both idiots running circles around each other," Kevin says.

"Excuse me, weren't you the one hiding underneath YOUR DESK?"

"I was panicking, that doesn't count."

They trail off into another bout of silence, albeit comfortable this time. Kevin allows his thumb to stroke the underside of her wrist, relishing in its softest and not failing to catch the hint of a smile Mae tries her hardest to tuck away behind a mask of nonchalance.

Ring ring ring!

UGH, Kevin feels like groaning out loud as he whips his phone out of his coat pocket before slamming it to his ear with barely restrained annoyance.

Of all times, why now?

"Yes?"

"Dr. Moon! Patient Seunghee who you sent for an MRI scan is having difficulty breathing! Her blood levels are dropping rapidly and she says she's having chest pains."

"I'll be there in five. Where are you?"

"Block four Pediatrics, doctor."

"I'm coming. Try to calm her down."

He snaps his phone shut as Mae allows her hand to return to her side, "emergency?"

"Yeah. She was admitted yesterday. Seemed fine though," he mumbles, brain already speeding through his thoughts at the numerous reasons why her body is reacting this way and unconsciously striding towards the door, when he swivels back round to face Mae.

"We need to talk."

Mae waves her fingers at him, "go. We’ll do that later.”

He doesn't need to be told twice before dashing out of his office and down the corridor.

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

"Psst. Juyeon."

Juyeon glances back at the door to see it ajar, with Mae's head peeking out from the slit. He looks back at Doctor Sangyeon talking about the medical care for one of his patients and hands his clipboard over to the other intern before quickly slipping out of the office.

"What is it?" He asks, taking note of her flustered expression and...is she blushing?

"I told Kevin."

His eyes grow wide, "told Kevin...what?"

"That I knew about him liking me," she pauses, "and that I like him."

"What? Wait--" Juyeon frowns in confusion, "is this why you pulled me out?!"

"Maybe."

"Mae!"

"What?!" She can't help but stomp her foot lightly and is glad that at this time of the day, there aren't many doctors around to see the frazzled state in which she's in, "Hyunjae's in surgery and I needed to talk to someone."

"Thanks for making me sound like the last option that you have."

"Juyeon, not the time for jealousy right now."

"But, okay wait--what did he say?"

"That...he thought I had friendzoned you all and that's why he never said anything."

"He does have a point."

"I did not--when did I friendzone you?!"

"Oh come on, Mae. You totally did, remember when we were--"

"Juyeon!" Sangyeon's voice booms out from his office and the said intern tenses up in panic.

The door slides open to reveal the said doctor looking more than a little displeased.

"Sorry Dr. Sangyeon," Mae quickly fibs, "it's my fault. I needed some data for the reports I'm writing up and Juyeon has them."

"Well make it quick. I need him."

"Yes, doctor."

Mae waits until the door slides fully closed before quickly ushering Juyeon away, "I'll see you later."

Juyeon pauses, hand on the doorknob, "dinner?"

"Sure."

"I want steak."

"Ask your girlfriend to buy you some."

He pouts, "you're so mean."

"See you, loser."

"See you."

"Love you."

"Keep that for Kevin."

Juyeon wastes no time in shutting the door before Mae can come and kick his ass.

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

The moment Hyunjae steps out of the surgery room to peel off his mask and let out a relieved sigh -- a sign that the surgery has gone well without any complications -- his phone starts buzzing through his pants pocket. Fishing it out and seeing Juyeon’s name flash across the screen, he pulls his face into a grimace before accepting the call.

He presses it to his ear, “I don’t have ramen. You gotta go buy some.”

“That’s not why I called,” Juyeon retorts at the other end of the line.

Hyunjae rolls his eyes. He moves towards his office, nodding at the few nurses along the way, “yeah? What do you need then?”

“Are you done with surgery?”

“I answered the phone didn’t I?”

“Come to the cafeteria.”

“But I’m tired,” Hyunjae whines.

“Trust me, you’ll want to hear this.”

When Hyunjae steps into the cafeteria a few minutes later, it doesn’t take him long to spot Juyeon sitting at one of the corner tables tucked away in a corner, digging into his food with barely contained gusto. Smiling at the sight that brings back memories of his own internship days, Hyunjae quickly grabs his own tray, fills it up with food and curry (beef stew, his favourite) and goes to join the katter at his table.

“Hello stranger, haven’t seen you around here in awhile,” the older man says while taking his seat opposite Juyeon.

“I’ve been needing to hand in reports back to back and I have a surgery at six tonight. I’ve literally got only this time to eat,” Juyeon replies.

“Oh? With who?”

“Jacob. His interns are taken up with the Emergency Department so Sangyeon sent me over.”

“Damn,” Hyunjae shoves a spoonful of food into his mouth, “so? What’s so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he catches sight of the grin blossoming over Juyeon’s face and lighting his features up like a Christmas tree.

“What?” Hyunjae asks impatiently, “What is it? Tell me!”

“Mae dropped by to see me this morning.”

“Uhuh.”

“And she said--”

“Wait wait,” Hyunjae cuts him off, “she didn’t come to see me?! Wow, that’s just rude of her--”

“You had a surgery.”

“Oh right. Go on.”

“So she came to me and said--” Juyeon proceeds to lower his voice, “that she and Kevin had THE TALK.”

Hyunjae blinks, “Huh?” and then, realizing the importance of Juyeon’s words, his eyes widen, “WHAT--”

Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to shut him up by shoving some curry into his mouth, “shush!”

“Sorry,” Hyunjae mumbles with his mouth full. He swallows it quickly with some water, reaching over to slap Juyeon’s shoulder in the process, “tell me! What talk?! What do you mean?! Do you mean--”

“Yeah,” Juyeon shoots him a pointed look, “yeah. THE TALK. You know what I mean.”

“And?! What did he say?! Don’t tell me he denied it!”

“Keep your voice down!” Juyeon glances around just in case there are any eavesdroppers, “anyway, yeah they talked. And they--well, I guess they came to an agreement that they both liked each other--” “About time.”

“Yeah. Apparently he told her that he thought he was being friendzoned.”

“Oh yeah, wouldn’t surprise me there. Mae has some amazing friendzoning skills,” Hyunjae’s shoulder lifts into a shrug at that, causing Juyeon’s eyebrows to stitch together, “what do you mean?”

“Let’s just say I thought Mae was pretty cute--”

Juyeon gawks before smacking his arm, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“--Before she opened her mouth,” Hyunjae finishes with a roll of his eyes, “that girl has like a sniper inside her tongue. With the amount of shit she spouts on a daily basis, I’m surprised her tongue hasn’t fallen off yet.”

“Oh. yeah. She’s kind of rough around the edges.”

“Not that I mind that type of girl. But it’s just Mae. I can’t see her as anything more now,” Hyunjae says with a shudder, “also, I think my mom might have dissuaded me from even thinking about dating her.”

“But your mom loves her.”

“Exactly my point. I don’t want her getting any in on who I can date or not. It’s my life, I can do whatever I want.”

“No wonder you’re still single.”

“And you’re whipped.”

“Mae came to me first though.”

“Because I had a surgery!”

“Yeah whatever, loser.”

------

Tagging: @juyeonzz @thesingingfae1905

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Rise Up

Ch.8: Losing My Head

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC

Chapter Summary: Belén discovers the recent string of robberies Datura and Poison Ivy have been doing. She spends a lot of time trying to figure out what the purpose of the robberies could be for, so much that it puts her out of sync with the rest of the team, including Barry.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

[If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]

Out in the reserved training area of STAR Labs, Cisco stood at a safe distance from Belén, holding a tablet in both hands. His fingers danced over the screen while his eyes flickered from it to the targets he'd set up for his friend to hit.

"Ready?" he called.

Belén nodded her head. "Bring it, Cisco."

With a small shrug, Cisco activated said targets. The three targets released several tendrils of vines that shot with rapidness to get her. Belén did her best to dodge them all and send back her own vines. However, being so focused on the vines she forgot the most important detail of fighting Datura.

She had more than one power.

One target shot electricity that blasted Belén a good amount back. Her body came to a stop eventually, but when she raised her head off the cement she looked close to screaming in frustration.

"Sorry!" called Cisco who quickly turned everything off.

"That's the fourth time!" Belén exclaimed, smacking a hand on the ground before she got up. "Clearly, I'm not getting this!"

Cisco sprinted towards her with the intention of calming her down. "Hey, we've been at this for a while now-"

"-two hours," Belén bitterly said. "And we've been doing this for a while now so why the hell am I not getting it? Datura's going to kick my ass - again - in 10 seconds flat if I keep this up."

"You can't expect to have this in a week, Bells," Cisco said softly. "You just need to keep training."

"But will it really be enough?" Belén folded her arms, eyes darting to the side. "I only fought Datura once and it was only because she decided to go that I'm still living, technically. What's going to happen the next time she comes?"

"You'll fight her with everything you've got," Cisco answered.

"But if this is all I've got then I might as well just let her stab me."

"Bells, you're just tired. You've been helping Barry and not sleeping like he and the rest of us asked you to-"

Belén raised a hand to stop him from talking. "The fact you all thought I would leave Barry while he's literally getting back on his feet is still hilarious to me," she said so deadly serious it was almost scary. "Though I should be more offended."

"I'm just saying, and I think I speak on behalf of the others, including Barry, it's okay to take some time for yourself," Cisco took a step back for good measure. No one had been brave enough to say it to Belén to her face.

Belén opened her mouth when they both heard their phones going off back at the table. Belén immediately assumed it had to do with Barry and his progress. "Can't do that," she told Cisco before darting for the table.

~ 0 ~

Barry knew that everyone around him was just trying to help him, but it really didn't make it better when they were all crowded around him like hawks as they watched him struggle to take a decent step. He held that in while Joe helped him take his first step down the cortex. But he felt like a goddamn child, and not even a self-sufficient one at that.

"All right, I got you," Joe reached for the cane given to Barry for support until he could walk on his own. Barry wearily let go of the cane and took a deep breath to begin his steps on his own.

He pushed his feet forwards and swallowed down a mild jab of pain he felt shooting up his legs. The third step was the last step he felt he could take. "Okay, I can't do it right now, all right?" he let himself fall on Thawne's old wheelchair with a big sigh.

"Hey guys," Belén walked in a moment afterwards. Cisco came right behind with a small greet. "How are we doing with the walk?" Belén came straight to Barry.

"We're making so much progress," Iris answered first and ignored the sour face Barry was making behind. "Right?" she looked to Caitlin for some backup.

"We are," Caitlin nodded, hoping to encourage Barry.

Of course, their words were cancelled out when Barry spoke up using full sarcasm to ridicule his own progress. "Yep, six whole steps. Someone get me a Bozo button."

"Hey, give yourself some credit. You just broke your back," Cisco thought he needed a reminder of the gravity of his situation.

"Yeah, a normal person would've been paralyzed the rest of his life," Belén reached for Barry's hand. "You're doing amazing."

Barry found that hard to believe. It had been days since he fought Zoom and while he was somewhat back on his feet he knew there were already some losses that he could never get over. Yet, no one was - ironically - mentioning anything from that part. "How long until I'm fully healed?" he asked from Caitlin.

Caitlin went behind the desk to pull his x-ray scans up on the screens of the walls. She thought if he saw his progress he would be less hard on himself. "The initial MRI I took a week ago showed a complete dislocation at the T12-L1 interspace of the thoracolumbar junction. But that's the MRI I took this morning. It's remarkable, but you're almost completely healed."

"I'm still having trouble breathing…"

"That's totally normal with a spinal injury. It should clear up soon."

Barry looked back at his suit sitting on display. Belén knew where his thoughts laid and gripped his hand in hers. "You'll be back in that suit in no time, just watch." Her words didn't seem to make an effect on him.

"What are we gonna do about Zoom?" he asked instead.

"No sign of him since Cisco nailed him with that tranq dart," Joe said rather happy about it.

"And I haven't vibed since then. Maybe Zoom's not coming back," Cisco's eyes drifted to the rest of the group. They all knew the chances of that happening were slim.

"I highly doubt that," Harry came into the cortex with his jacket on and gun in hand. "Which is why I'm gonna go do something about it."

"And what, pray tell, does that mean?" Belén wearily glanced at the man. Instead of helping them out with Barry's situation, Harry had decided to be reclusive and bitter.

"I need access to your breach room and your speed cannon," Harry declared, mildly surprising the others.

"Why is that?" asked Barry.

"Because, Barry, it's time to go home."

Joe shot Harry an incredulous look. "So, you show up on our Earth, you screw everything up, and now you want to go home? Sounds very familiar."

"Again, that wasn't me. I need to go take care of Zoom once and for all before anyone else gets killed."

"Exactly how do you plan on doing that?" Belén didn't want to be rude and remind him that he was only there in the first place because he hadn't figured a way out to stop Zoom in his own. She hoped she would be subtle.

"I'll think of something. Ramon, if you'll escort me to the speed cannon," Harry didn't wait for an answer and started out of the room. He had enough of this wallowing in grief stuff. Datura was waiting for him to deliver Belén's suit tracker and since he wasn't going to actually do it, he needed to get the hell out of Earth 1 before she returned. At least on Earth 2, she couldn't force him to continue sneaking around Earth 1 STAR Labs.

"No, no, you can't go through the breach!" Caitlin hurried to stop Harry, not that the man seemed any less inclined to slow down.

"Yeah, he can," Joe said, forcing Caitlin to pause and turn back. "Jay taught us how to send people."

"That's not what I mean," Caitlin warned them to be quiet for a moment and then looked up to Harry.

Cisco shot Caitlin a confused look. "What are you doing? If Harry wants to go...bye," he wiggled his fingers.

"Look, like it or not, Cisco, we need his help."

Joe was quick to disagree. "I'm not sure another plan from Wells is what we need."

"Yeah, I mean, the last bright idea he had nearly got Barry killed," Iris didn't think they needed a repeat of that.

"I know, but Jay's gone, and Dr. Wells knows Zoom better than anyone, so until Barry is back on his feet again, we need to keep Wells around in case Zoom returns."

"Caitlin, if he doesn't want to be here, then we're better off without him," Barry shrugged. "Let him go."

Belén dreaded to voice her opinion that she actually agreed with Caitlin. As much as they hated to admit it, Harry was the only one left who knew everything about Zoom and Datura, not to mention Harry was frikin brilliant. Caitlin, on the other hand, would not hide hers.

"I can't do that. Not yet," she shook her head and walked out.

Soon as she walked out, an alarm went off.

"Oh, snap, metahuman attack!" Cisco broke into a run for the desk. However, the alarm turned out to be nowhere near what they believed. "Nope, nope, my bad, that is just an alert for me," Cisco apologized with a meek smile.

"What?" Belén frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's just a reminder. I have a date in an hour, so…"

"Oh, with who?" Iris asked, still in the dark of Cisco's newest girl.

A great big smile broke across Cisco's face as he replied, "With the lovely Kendra Saunders, the barista at Jitters. Oh, she makes a mean latte. I think we're gonna go out for dinner and a movie, and then, I don't know-" he coughed and mumbled, "-maybe some breakfast."

"Wait, breakfast?" Barry played dumb, even putting on the best face of confusion that he could. "Why breakfast? I don't…"

Cisco's smile faded as he bought into the entire ruse. "Yeah...cause, you know, you go home…'' he would think he wouldn't need to explain this.

"Cisco…" Belén smiled a bit at the cluelessness of her friend. He was probably so smitten with Kendra he couldn't pick up on anything else right now.

"He's messing with you," Joe was close to laughing as well. Iris was being polite by looking away to laugh.

Cisco narrowed his eyes on Barry who was smiling rather cheekily. "Oh," Cisco frowned. "Not cool dude!"

"It's okay Cisco," Belén couldn't help but go in and defend him, at least this one time. "Barry probably did need an explanation because he wouldn't know anything about having 'breakfast' so…"

It seemed to help Cisco alright.

"Wha - Belén!" Barry gaped at her completely, his face already flushing red.

"Hm," Cisco strode out with a great, big smirk on his face.

"You had it coming," Belén turned to him with arms crossed. "Don't mess with poor Cisco like that right before his first date with a cute girl."

"Yeah, alright, but did you really have to go there? In front of...?" Barry made a not-so-subtle nod towards Iris and Joe, both of whom were still struggling not to laugh out loud.

Suddenly, a second alarm started blaring in the room, those remaining collectively rolled their eyes thinking it was another of Cisco's "date" reminders.

"Anyone know how to turn that feature off?" Iris decided to ask for future references.

Belén scoffed as she moved for the desk. "I don't think that'll be enough to stop him - oh my God it's not a date reminder it's an actual alarm!"

"Where?" Barry decided to move quicker than he was physically able to and suffered the consequences. His groan echoed in the room and before he could keel over, Joe caught him. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" Barry angrily waved a hand to shoo Joe away.

"Please don't do that again," Belén warned while she located their newest meta. "Not until Caitlin says you can at least."

"So, where's the meta and what's it doing?" Iris positioned herself beside Belén.

"It's a break-in at Mercury Labs," Belén said with a frown. "And that's a bit confusing because, no offence, but, most of our criminal metas are idiots."

"With the exception for a few," Barry's words carried a significant meaning. "Who is it?"

"I don't know," Belén left Iris at the computers. "But I'll let you know in a bit." She then looked at Iris. "Keep Nina on standby just in case."

Iris nodded. "On it."

Belén hurried towards her suit but stopped by Barry to kiss his cheek. "I'll be right back."

"Please be careful," he said, wishing he could be more useful to help her. The city had been solely relying on her for all their trouble and that was a load to carry, he would know. But, with his legs just barely able to sustain him he'd only get in the way.

~0~

The scene at Mercury Labs was a usual one when it was under fire. The first floor was a mess, furniture turned over and a couple shattered windows on the ground. What wasn't so usual were the two culprits standing at the center not doing anything.

Until they heard the steps they wanted. The Azalea had arrived.

The brunette first looked over her shoulder before making a motion for the ginger to go forwards. She then turned around completely to give full display of her smugness that shined even under her mask. "Do you honestly think you're ready for round 2?"

Belén raised her head in silence. She'd honestly been expecting this to just be a regular robbery, but that wasn't the case with Datura. It could never be.

"Belén?" she started to hear Iris' through the comm. in her ear. "It's her, isn't it? Datura?"

"Bells…" Barry's voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine," Belén said in an almost mumble.

Datura chuckled from her spot. "Let me guess, they're worried about you? Well, I mean, they should be."

"What do you want from this place?" Belén decided to go in a different alternative. She knew that if she listened to Datura's mocks it would only make her doubt herself even more.

"Things," answered Datura. "But I have to say I'm a little disappointed in how little advanced Mercury Labs is here."

"Sorry, next time I'll let them know we need better equipment for you to steal," Belén found herself being easily sarcastic.

"That's all I'm asking for," Datura went with it and even did a mock bow for show. However, just as she raised her head she struck a hand forwards, firing a deadly red energy that threw Belén backwards against the open entrance door. Datura's eyes flashed a golden yellow as she watched Belén pick herself up with wobbly legs. "You should always expect the unexpected," Datura's voice was overlapped with a second one, both terribly snappy.

Belén tried not to groan as she picked her head up from the ground, but that really did hurt. That bitch. And the fact Datura was smirking so smugly wasn't helping either. Belén planted a hand on the floor and let thin vines creep underground until they were directly underneath Datura's feet. Datura didn't feel the vines attack her ankles until they slammed her flat on the ground. Now it was Belén's turn to smirk. "You're right, you should always expect the unexpected," Belén got up and raised her hands to lift the glasses from the entrance door to start throwing at Datura.

Datura rolled to the side and shot Belén a glare. "The hero trying to cut me with glass? That's really unexpected."

"Shut the hell up!" Belén had no interest in playing Datura's game. Yes, she was mad at hell because Datura knew exactly how to press her buttons. The mere presence of the woman reminded Belén how she'd lost so easily against the Earth 2 metahuman. So yeah, maybe she was trying to play the game like Datura was.

Datura briefly smirked before charging for Belén. Her eyes glowed a piercing white before firing lasers from them.

"Belén?" called Barry through the comms, but of course all he and Iris heard were the crashes and groans from the two women. "We're calling Nina-"

"-no!" Belén managed to say while avoiding one of Datura's lasers from cutting through her leg. "I can - OW!"

Datura had caught her thigh and that hurt. Belén looked down at the opened wound and scowled at the culprit. Datura smirked and tossed a sphere of white energy between her hands. "You can't beat me."

It was just four words, four words, and they had that added that much more anger to what Belén was already feeling. Frustrated, Belén ran towards Datura with all powers ready to go. The spheres of energy dissipated from Datura's hands in time for the woman to combat Belén. The two went at it and as much as Belén hated to admit, Datura seemed to either be on the same level as her or was better than her.

"Belén!" Barry called, or shouted, in vain. He tried rigging up the security feed to see exactly what was going on. "Iris, hit that one!" he frantically pointed to the keyboard at the edge of the desk. Iris scrambled to do the task and seemed to do it on time.

Datura was catching Belén's hands each time the latter attempted to strike. Datura smirked as she got to see a close up on Belén's frustration. The ombre-blonde was close to snapping or crying out of pure frustration. And yet, it was no surprise for Datura. She knew this would happen and she would enjoy every minute of it.

"Datura, let's go!"

Well, almost every minute of it. Datura pushed Belén away from her and threw Poison Ivy an irritated look. "Seriously? Now!?"

Poison Ivy held a couple devices in her hands and she merely raised them to remind Datura why they'd come to Mercury Labs in the first place. "Let's go! Now!"

Datura groaned. "Fine! Until next time, Azalea."

Belén glared at Datura. Her entire body ached and she was frankly out of breath. Even as she raised her hand to attempt at stopping them, her powers didn't release as they usually did. Datura and Poison Ivy made another clean escape.

~ 0 ~

"Well this is really great," Cisco sarcastically went on with gestures going between Belén and Barry, "Not only is our speedster down, but our Azalea is too."

If it was possible to kill with a look, Belén would have murdered Cisco in that moment. She sat on the edge of the medical bed while they waited for Caitlin to stitch up an open wound on her neck. She'd already stitched up the wound on Belén's thigh. Yup, there were multiple stitches this time.

"I'm not down, Cisco," Belén said in what sounded more like a warning for Cisco to stop with that.

"Belén, could you stop..." Caitlin trailed off and nodded down to Belén's hands. The latter realized she was gripping the edges and adding on pressure to her neck.

"Sorry," Belén mumbled as she let go. She put her hands - which had some red spots on her knuckles - on her lap and kept quiet while the others went on.

"What was Datura looking for at Mercury Labs?" Iris asked her father since the CCPD had already visited the scene.

"They took some prototypes of a few devices," Joe answered, "But the odd part was they were all being used to alleviate sleep and dreams. Some new market McGee was trying to get at."

"Sleep and dreams?" Barry repeated, frowning, as were the others. "What does she want to do with that?"

"Give us wicked nightmares, I bet," Cisco said with widened eyes, already terrified at the thought. "Because she isn't already giving it to us in real life."

"She's not going to win for long," Belén scooted off the bed once Caitlin was finished. "I'm going to get her."

"You need to take it easy," Caitlin told her in that doctor-ly tone that left no room for arguments. "You have multiple bruises - I just stitched up two decently wide, open wounds - and look at your hands? You're lucky you don't have a concussion."

"I get it, she kicked my ass," Belén snapped, though not specifically at Caitlin. She was just upset in general. "Again."

Caitlin sighed. "That's not what I meant to say-"

"-I know," Belén moved to leave.

"Belén, where are you going?" called Barry, wishing he could catch up with her but he was lucky if he could spring two steps without falling on his face. Perhaps that was the reason she stopped and turned back.

"To train, where else?" she, again, snapped. "You saw what she did to me!"

"Yeah, but you heard Caitlin-"

"-and you heard the part where Datura won again, right?"

"We don't know where they are anyways," Cisco chimed in to take some of the tension away. "Even if you train right now, it won't make much of a difference. And, hello, you need to rest!"

Belén cringed with frustration. "I'M NOT -" but she stopped midway with her hands in the air. Slowly, she brought them down and un-clenched them. "If I keep letting Datura get away, she'll just keep hurting people and stealing things. I have to do something." She dared them all with a look to say she was wrong. When no one said anything, she tilted her head as an indication of 'I thought so' and left the room.

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on her," Barry rubbed his face, probably just as frustrated as Belén was. "I'd do it, but..." he made a languid gesture at his legs. He really felt so useless and it just kept getting worse and worse.

~ 0 ~

When Belén went to pick up her nephew from preschool, she was surprised to find her mother already in custody of Axel by the front gate of the school. Not wanting to cause a scene, especially in front of Axel, Belén came up to the two with a polite smile across her face.

"Mom, you're here...what a surprise," she said in mildly strained tone.

"Auntie Belén!" Axel excitedly hugged her, completely missing the flinch his aunt did.

"What's happened to you?" Veronica didn't miss anything. She was appalled to see her daughter's hands red and the clear stitches across Belén's neck made nothing better. "Are you okay!?"

"I thought we agreed I would pick Axel up today," Belén attempted to go down the road of ignorance. She didn't want her mother hassling her for answers.

"Calm down, I only came to find you," Veronica raised her hands to show she'd come in a peaceful stance. "But that was before I saw...you. Belén, honey, you have to tell me what happened to you. Did someone hit you? Was it Ba-"

"Mom, for the love of God, don't finish that sentence," Belén wearily pleaded.

Veronica pursed her lips together. She had to agree silently that Barry didn't look like the abusive type. But that still left the question of who was hurting her daughter. The bubbling rage she felt under her skin got no better with Belén's evasiveness. "Belén, I am begging you to tell me what is going on. Please. I know we have our differences but...honey, someone is hurting you. They're causing you physical pain and I want them brought in."

Belén felt her shoulders shake. Crying was not an option. No sir. "I can't, Mom. Was there a reason you came here?"

"Why can't you just be honest with me?" Veronica asked in a hurt manner.

"Because I can't. And it's not because I'm mad with you, it's just that I really can't. It's better this way." And yet somehow, Belén wasn't entirely sure that was truth anymore. Would it be better to keep her mother away from all this metahuman stuff?

Veronica shook her head. "It's things like these that don't make me stop my investigation, Belén. Because you can deny it all you want but we both know there is something going on that you're not telling me." Veronica allowed her words to sink in Belén's mind before adding on. "And I know that Joe and Barry are involved in this, so don't think this is over. I do love you, you know, and I just want to know what's going on in your life. So if you won't tell me, I'm just going to keep looking until I get the answers I need."

"Auntie Belén," Axel tugged on Belén's purse once Veronica had gone. "Why do you and grandma fight a lot?"

Belén should've known that by now Axel would catch on to the fact neither she nor his grandmother were getting along so well. She took Axel by the hand and started walking in the opposite direction where she parked her car.

"Um...your grandma and I...are just...having little problems. But you don't have to worry, sweetie."

"Okay," Axel shrugged it off like any four year old would. "Are we going to STAR Labs today? I wanna throw things into the holes!"

"Dammit Cisco," Belén mumbled under her breath.

"Can we!? Can we!?" Axel grew more excited by the minute.

"No more throwing things into holes, first of all," Belén clarified. "And right now isn't a good time to go."

"Why not?" Axel stopped his hops and frowned.

"Because, well…" Belén thought of the simplest way to put it, "...Barry is a little bit...sick, and…"

Axel gasped and covered his mouth. "Oh no! Are you going to be sick too?"

Belén chuckled at his thoughts. "No, Axel, I'm not. It's not contagious, I promise. So, what do you want to do today? We don't have to be back at grandma's until eight."

Axel grinned slowly as he got an idea.

~0~

"It's been a while since you visited, Belén," Dr. Baeva offered the young woman a kind smile. By the looks of Belén's appearance, she could use one.

"Lot's happened," Belén made a weak gesture at herself, not that she wasn't aware Dr. Baeva hadn't taken her appearance in. "I've been a bit busy dealing with our city's newest metas."

"Oh yes," nodded Dr. Baeva. "I've seen them on the television. How's our Flash doing?"

Belén's face wasn't a readable one. "Physically, he's getting better. Mentally...well, that's another thing. But I'm sure you know that."

Dr. Baeva nodded again. "And how are you, Belén?"

Belén automatically heaved a heavy sigh. "Not well. Long story short, I keep getting my ass handed to me by Datura, featuring Poison Ivy on occasion. And then to top it off, my mom and I are still not getting along. And it's not even because of our mother-daughter relationship it's because of all this secret meta stuff I'm dealing with." She took in another deep breath after her long ramble. "So, no, I'm not doing well."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dr. Baeva said. "Would you like to expand on those things? I think taking it piece by piece would be a good idea to prioritize between the bigger problems and the small ones."

At this point, Belén was ready to try anything. "I mean, the Datura problem is a really big one. She can travel between worlds at her beck and call and...Dr. Baeva, she's a siphoner. She has countless powers at her fingertips and she can alternate between them."

"She sounds incredibly strong," Dr. Baeva agreed based on the facts presented. "But I have reason to believe so is the Azalea."

But at that comment, Belén scoffed loudly. "See this?" she pointed at her exposed neck stitches. "She did that. And I have another one on my thigh. I have multiple bruises on my body and look at my hands!" she turned her hands over and over.

"Belén, I'm going to ask that you take a deep breath," Dr. Baeva calmly requested. "Your rambles can turn into anxiety."

Belén took several breaths until she felt confident enough to speak at a normal pace that didn't involve so many hand gestures. "Datura...is a big problem," she began again. "I've fought her several times now and she keeps beating me. If I don't come up with something soon, she's going to kill me. So, yeah, I'm prioritizing her as a huge problem, actually."

"The good thing is, Belén, that you don't work alone. Your team members can offer new ideas and perspectives that you haven't thought of."

"I know, but...I can't help feel like it's all on me, you know? Datura is coming for me, so I should be able to handle it. I should be able to handle her on my own."

"I have to ask if that's the same for the Flash? Is Zoom something he needs to take care of on his own?"

"Well, of course not, but..." Belén paused and watched Dr. Baeva smile at her, "Okay, I get what you mean by that. Maybe Datura isn't my problem, but...I'm the one who has to fight her."

"Yes, but everything you do to fight her is not solely dependent on you. Your team is there to advice you. Don't forget that."

Belén nodded slowly. "Okay. Still a huge problem, though."

"And what about your mother?"

Belén pursed her lips together while she thought of all the disagreements she had with her mother so far. "It started out with Axel's custody. I gave it to her and we were doing fine until she met my boyfriend. She didn't like him because he broke up with me and all, but once she got over that...she started to notice all these secrets of mine."

"The metahuman side of you, you mean?"

"Yeah. She's suspecting and I have to give her that I would do the same in her place. But telling my mom that I'm the Azalea...that seems like a bad idea."

"Can I ask why?"

"Because it would put her in danger," Belén said automatically. "I've seen what this life can do. I don't think my mom is cut out for that."

"She's not, or you aren't ready for her to join you at STAR Labs?" asked Dr. Baeva with a knowing smile on her face. "It's completely normal. You have been estranged from your mother for a good part of your life. Letting her into the deep part of your life is not something that comes easily."

"I can't be sure," Belén answered honestly. "And therefore, I can't say if it's a big problem or not. I love my Mom, however weird relationship we have, I do...but I don't know what to do on this one."

~ 0 ~

Barry could say that he could at least now attempt to run on a treadmill. With the passing of the days, he had more endurance and definitely more strength to keep himself from falling. The only problem now was that every time he tried to push himself more on the treadmill, he would start remembering his last encounter with Zoom. Once he heard the crack of his spine he felt it was over again.

"You done for the day?"

Barry stopped drinking water and put the lid over his bottle. He turned back and saw Belén standing at the doorway, holding two bags of Big Belly Burger.

"Peace offering?" she put on her best smile, hoping it was enough to at least get into the room.

Barry smiled at her. "You know that's like a snack for me, right?" He ate way more than 2 bags and she knew it.

"I forgot my credit card at home," she shrugged and came in. "That or Axel hid it from me 2 days ago. I'm sure it'll pop up somewhere around here."

"Is he with your Mom, tonight?"

Belén nodded her head. "Yup. I think one afternoon in STAR Labs is more than enough for him, don't you think?"

Barry chuckled. Having Axel around was definitely a mood lifter. Cisco sure seemed to love the kid being around. "You should see what he drew for me." He moved towards the table against the wall and picked up a piece of paper.

"Oh my God," Belén laughed at Axel's scribbles that did have a shape of a person.

"It's supposed to be me, the Flash, running," Barry pointed at the red blob representing himself. It warmed his heart when Axel gave it to him, especially when it came with the four year old's "You're still a hero" comment.

"He drew that with me in the afternoon when I brought him here," Belén remembered it as one of the dozens of pictures she and Axel did together. "I just wasn't sure which ones I threw away and which ones I didn't."

"I love it," Barry put the paper down on the table. "At least someone still sees me as a hero."

"Not true," Belén levelled him with a look. "I do too. And everyone else here too."

"Yeah but the city's another thing..."

"And I think they're way more afraid of Zoom so trust me, they really want you back." Belén handed him the bags of food. "And I'm sorry for not being there to remind you of this."

"You don't need to apologize, Bells," Barry put the bags on the table in order to take Belén's hands. "I know you've been dealing with other things too and I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you."

"I think we've both been a little bit out of sync, huh?" Belén offered one weak smile for their troubles. Barry had to agree. It wasn't that they were angry with each other, but it was the same frustration each felt that kept them apart for a while. In a sense, they were mad at the world.

The two took a seat on the edge of the treadmill, forgetting dinner while they talked.

"Datura has kicked my ass twice, and she's made it seem like she didn't break a sweat," Belén lowered her gaze to the floor.

"Believe me, that's not what Iris and I saw," Barry had to disagree there. "You guys were following each other's moves."

"But that's the thing," Belén raised her head to sigh, "It's like no matter what I pulled, what I strategy I used, Datura knew it. It's like she expected each of my moves. I couldn't best her."

"And she couldn't best you at times," Barry once again added.

"But I didn't know what moves she would use. I got lucky. And it kills me that she knows she can one-up me each time."

"I know," Barry nodded. "Zoom knows that about me too. He practically destroyed me. He showed everyone in Central City what he could do, and that I'm powerless to stop him," Barry shook his head. "They gave me a key to this city! I'm supposed to be their hero. I'm supposed to be the guy that can protect them from something as evil as that, and I failed in front of all of them." And that was the image that tan over and over in his head. Because, of course the news had spread throughout the city that the Flash practically was nothing. "When they think of the Flash, all they see now is someone not strong enough to protect them."

"Not true," Belén could say honestly. "I think they see someone who will fight for them. But I get what you mean. Our self esteems aren't very high at the moment, but maybe that's what they want." She knew Datura was playing a mind game with her. It was clear in her smugness and her taunts. She knew she was the better fighter, but perhaps that wasn't always going to be the same. Of course if Belén continued to think Datura was better, she would be better and thus give Datura the clear shot to win.

"Guys!? Hello!?" Cisco's urgent voice blared from the speakers. "Guys! We have a problem!"

Belén and Barry looked at each other with the same curiousness. They needed to get back to the cortex and see what else had gone wrong with their group. Once they arrived, Cisco told them (in a quick ramble of panic) that Caitlin had punched him in the face and walked out like nothing. It only took him a couple minutes to realize she must have been mind controlled, and the only one with those types of powers was...

"I can't believe we have to deal with that gorilla again," Belén scowled.

Cisco looked up from the computers where he was currently conducting multiple searches for Grodd's possible whereabouts. "There's nothing on Caitlin or Grodd."

"Okay, so...are there any ideas on why Grodd would come back from the dead just to take Cait?" Barry tried to think on his own but he couldn't find a good reason for the sudden return of Grodd.

"I don't know," Cisco replied. "It doesn't make any sense. She was always so nice to him."

"Yeah but remember what Joe said," Barry said, reminding them that the CCPD had already found several leads on the return of the gorilla from the previous days. "Grodd mind-controlled two lab technicians to steal chemicals that enhance intelligence. He wants her for something."

"He wants to make something," Belén shrugged, finding it the most logical reason. "Caitlin is pretty good at that."

"Well, looks like he left his bachelor pad in the sewers," Cisco gave up on searching through the sewer cameras.

"Right, but it's not like Grodd can just waltz through downtown in the middle of the day without anybody noticing," Belén gestured with a hand. "Someone had to see him at some point...right?" her eyes flickered from Cisco to Barry for some confirmation she was on the right track.

"Right," Cisco snapped his fingers at her, making her beam, "And if there's been sightings, then we might be able to approximate his location."

"We can get the CCPD's help with that," Barry thought of. "I'll call Joe."

"Good," Cisco nodded. "We gotta get her back."

But unfortunately, their night would not bring them any successful results. Caitlin wasn't anywhere in the city streets, and it didn't appear like she would be coming out any time soon.

The next day, Barry had woken himself up to begin another session of running. If Caitlin was at the hands of Grodd, he needed to get back in the field. He felt that if he wasn't at least trying to get a little better at running then he was wasting time. But then when he was running, like he was at the moment on the treadmill, he would get the images of his failed fight against Zoom and suddenly everything became senseless to him. What was the point to keep fighting if he knew he would lose?

Barry reached to the side and turned off the treadmill. He'd gotten to that 'it's senseless' part again.

"Keep that chin down, slugger," he heard a familiar voice behind.

Barry turned around to find Henry coming into the room. "Dad!" he came rushing off the treadmill to hug his father, not realizing till that moment how much he needed his father.

After getting up to speed, as much as was possible anyways, Henry took a good study of his son's records from the accident. As he pulled several exams on the screens, he was easily able to conclude there was really no problem anymore - physically. He didn't have to be a genius to know where the problem was coming from. Behind him, Barry sat on a stool watching the records he himself had gone over countless times.

"No spinal cord edema. I don't see any subacute hemorrhaging. Bone fused beautifully. You're all good, Barry," Henry finally said and turned sideways to see his son who was looking more or less displeased. "I'd give you some physical therapy, but you don't need it."

Barry acknowledged the words but didn't want to keep talking about it. "I'm really glad you're here, Dad."

Henry smiled. "Me too. You know, I tried to call, but you can't a cell in Granite Peak National Park, so…"

"Granite Peak... what are you... You went camping by yourself?" Barry was truly surprised seeing as his father hadn't been one to camp.

"Yeah, yeah, I got a tent. I went fishing every day. I have had my fill of largemouth bass for a while," Henry chuckled. "Sometimes you just have to slow down to get back to where you want to be."

"Yeah. Look, Dad…" Barry began but really didn't have the right words to explain himself. Luckily for him, someone came into the room. He was relieved to see that it was Belén, whom he'd hadn't seen since yesterday despite her promise to be back from wherever she had to go.

Belén was surprised to find Barry with his father and immediately felt like she'd interrupted. "Oh, I'm so sorry…" she grabbed her purse from the desk after a second of putting it down. "I thought...there was...no one, but - I'll just find Cisco!"

"Bells!" Barry went after her (as best as possible on his slow pace) while Henry called 'it's fine!' to her. Belén was stopped by Barry just by the threshold. "Hey, it's fine, really," Barry took her by the hand and led her back inside the room.

"I'm sorry," Belén sheepishly told Henry once they were face to face. "I-I didn't know you were going to be in the city."

"Iris called me in and explained the situation to me," Henry explained. "I couldn't just ignore it."

Belén's eyebrows raised together, suddenly remembering that she had meant to help Iris come up with a decent solution to Barry's problem. How could she forget that? "I'm happy she did that," Belén smiled lightly, truly meaning those words. She was only upset that she'd not helped like she was meant to. Where was her head lately?

Cisco came in hollering something about finding Caitlin. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before," he said as he fiercely got into the computers. "It's so King Kong!"

"Cisco, no offence, but what the hell are you talking about?" Belén came up beside him, dreary looking.

"I'm ignoring that because we don't have the time," Cisco responded calmly and gave a 'yahoo!' when he pulled up three different belltowers in the city. "Grodd has to be in one of these bell towers. The only reason we couldn't find him on any cameras underneath the city before was because he upgraded from a bachelor pad to a penthouse, like a baller."

"Okay, so we know where he is," Barry slowly joined him and Belén. "We still don't know how to get her."

A wide smile spread across Cisco's face, signaling that the second part of the plan had already been thought of. "We got a plan for you."

"That smile means it's something stupid or just...plain wrong," and for that, Belén took one step away from Cisco.

"What's the plan?" Barry asked.

Cisco did not answer as Wells came into the room, dressed as the Reverse Flash. "We use me."

Barry did not attempt to control himself and sped Wells out of the cortex and right against a wall.

"No, Barry! That's Harry!" Cisco went after the two. Belén and Henry did the same, but both were just as confused as Barry. "That's the other Wells! Barry. Let him go!"

It took a moment for Barry to grasp the concept of the idea. He awkwardly let go of Harry and took a step back, hand in his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You're still here," Belén blinked at Harry. "I thought you were going home."

Harry kept silent because he didn't really have a response for that. One moment he was sure of what he needed to do - which was to leave - and then the next Caitlin comes in with words that made him doubt where his place was.

"We found another suit in the Time Vault," Cisco moved beside Harry.

"Bit sinister, don't you think?" Belén could not stop staring at Harry and think about Eobard. It gave her shivers.

"I thought he was dead," came Henry's input which reminded everyone that he was not up to speed with the situation.

"He's dead," Barry made sure to clarify. "This is... this is Harrison Wells from Earth-2."

Henry was still just lost. "Earth-2?"

"Whole other story that includes multiple universes," Belén briefly explained.

"If we can get Harry to convince Grodd that he's Wells, that he's his father, maybe we can convince him to let Caitlin go," Cisco finally just shared the entire plan.

"I'm not gonna be able to help if anything goes wrong," Barry needed Harry to understand that. They needed to get Caitlin back but everyone needed to be on the same page of the risks.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," Harry nodded.

"If worst comes to worst, I'll go," Belén volunteered, earning herself a very dreadful look from Barry. She met his gaze with a small smile. "I'm not going to hide when people need my help."

"We won't need you," it was Harry who had spoken up this time. Belén threw him an incredulous glance, probably confounded with his risky choice. Harry just thought that maybe if she didn't use her suit, he might be able to extract the suit tracker and make another one identical to it without use. Let's see Datura do her plan with that.

~ 0 ~

However odd and risky their plan was...it worked. And that came as a shock because of the aforementioned details. Grodd had been subdued and would be relocated somewhere to be determined.

Caitlin, who'd remained completely unharmed, tended to Harry who hadn't had the same luck. She worked to wrap a gauze on the side of Harry's stomach in one of the side rooms.

"Thank you for rescuing me by the way," Caitlin said to him, thinking he had it very well deserved. Despite having problems amongst the team, at least they could say Harry was truly on their side.

"Well, we're a team, right?" Harry gave a tiny smile through his sore limbs.

"I'm impressed," Cisco came into the room, along with the rest.

"I think we all are," Belén corrected, patting him on the arm as she walked in.

"Yeah, well, we need to do something about Grodd," Joe got them moving along to the problem.

"Like what?" Caitlin asked.

"Like get rid of him for good."

Caitlin finished her work in time to freeze in her spot. "You want to kill him?" she blinked, clearly surprised.

"Considering how many people he's killed, yeah."

Caitlin looked at the rest for some help. "This isn't Grodd's fault. He's only like this because Wells made him this way."

Barry could understand that her affection for the animal may have been a contributing factor for her opposition, so he tried being as kind as possible to make her see the issue. "Yes, but, Cait, he kidnapped you and you could have died."

"You didn't see what I saw. Grodd's getting smarter. He's lonely and sad," Caitlin argued softly. "He wants more apes like him."

"What are you saying? He wants kids?" Cisco made a face stricken with horror. "Cause I'm pretty sure one telepathic Grape Ape is more than enough for this city."

"I can see where you're coming from, Cait, but...you can't make more smart gorillas," Belén said, but then paused to think, "...can you?"

"No," Joe said sharply, hoping that no one got on that idea.

"I know somewhere we could send him," Harry suddenly said, getting up from the bed. "When the singularity exploded and I discovered the breach in S.T.A.R. Labs, I ran similar tests and discovered the same thing, 51 additional breaches." He made a beeline for the desks in the cortex and started up one of the computers. "The difference being the breaches in Central City are scattered all throughout the city whereas counterparts in my world most definitely are not."

"And you know where they lead?" asked Barry.

"Well, I was in the process of figuring all that out when Dr. Snow so gallantly convinced me to stay, but if I am correct, this breach-" Harry pulled one specific breech profile up on screen for them to see, "-is gonna get Grodd as close to home as he's ever likely to get."

"Okay, even if you're right, how do we bait Grodd to go through it?" Joe knew that the police were definitely out of this mission.

"My son'll do it," Henry answered, startling everyone but no one more than Barry. "Won't you, Flash?"

Barry's eyes widened and for the first couple of minutes he said nothing.

Belén cleared her throat quietly. "We could always, also, call in Nina. I figure she'd probably be more useful than me."

Barry swallowed and shook his head. "No. Grodd is going to have to face me now. It's about time."

~ 0 ~

It didn't take much to bring Harry's plan to life. In a couple of hours, they were ready to go to bring Grodd into the new world.

"Cisco's at the spot," Iris reported from the desk and looked up Barry who was, after many days, finally back in his Flash suit. "You ready?"

"Caitlin, just be careful," Belén said for the third time to the brunette. She felt it was too early for Caitlin to get back in the field, and so close to Grodd. "And Barry, please, please, be careful too."

Barry gave a small nod. "I will be back in one piece, you'll see."

"You better," Belén meant to be warning but her concern didn't allow for that.

"I will," Barry promised, slightly amused, and moved to Caitlin. "Ready to go, then?"

"Yeah," Caitlin spared her friends another look then let Barry take her away.

Belén then hurried to the desk where Iris was. When Joe and Henry rejoined them, Barry had already begun the game of chase with Grodd.

"How's it going?" Joe asked the two women, peering between them to get a look at the computers.

"Caitlin's safe and Barry is currently running away from Grodd," Belén replied.

"So Barry's gonna lure Grodd in front of the breach?" Henry asked just to be sure he understood the plan of the group.

"Yep, and once he gets him to the right spot, Cisco's gonna blast him into Earth-2 with his…" Iris failed to come up with the right word to describe Cisco's device.

"Thingamajig," her father finished for her, and the four had a small laugh.

"I think he said it was a speed canon," Belén tilted her head in thought. "He hates when we don't remember the names of his devices."

"Well, things have gotten a lot more complicated since I got out of prison," Henry remarked, giving a shake of his head.

"Mm-hmm. Man, you have no idea," Joe agreed with a hum.

They waited a couple of more minutes then switched to the street footage where they could see the breach Grodd was meant to go into. Grodd soon caught up with Barry and immediately inflicted his telepathic powers on the speedster. He effortlessly threw Barry across the street.

"Oh, my God!" Iris gasped, everyone beside her doing the same.

"I should have gone," Belén told herself repeatedly.

Henry took the comm. Microphone between her and Iris. "Get up, Barry. Now!"

They could see Barry was indeed doing his best to get back on his feet. However, it was a loss when Grodd put one of his heavy foot over Barry.

"You need to let him go, Grodd!" Caitlin's voice managed to draw the gorilla's attention for a moment. She was standing in a precise location - a spray-painted white circle.

"Flash is my enemy. Now you, too," Grodd declared, but Caitlin didn't falter.

"No. He was trying to save me from you. We didn't understand what you wanted, but now we do. I can give you what you want. I can give you a home. You just have to trust me."

Grodd lifted his foot off Barry and started coming at Caitlin. As soon as he was within the circle, Cisco activated the breech and Barry sped Caitlin out of the circle. Grodd was somewhat trapped by the breeches' force but there wasn't enough strength to snatch him entirely.

"Guys, what's going on with that full power switch?" Belén called to Cisco and Harry. "Two smart guys didn't think to invent that?"

"Uh, I'll have you know it is at full power," came Cisco's indignant response.

Henry took the microphone again. "Barry, you can't let Grodd get free. Conquer your fears, son. Believe in yourself."

"Did I mention I'm like really glad you're here?" Belén looked up at the man. Henry smiled back at the woman.

Barry had performed his famous sonic punch which was enough to push Grodd into the breech and leave him trapped on Earth 2 for the time being.

~ 0 ~

After everything, the Reverse Flash's suit remained intact and literally standing on its own inside the cortex.

"That is just creepy," Belén said from the main desk, preferring to be far away from said yellow suit. "Make it go away." At the same moment she spoke, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Silently, she took it out to see a text.

"Before we do anything, maybe we can see how to get it back in the ring first," Barry dropped the old ring of their Wells into Cisco's palm. It would be a very useful thing to learn that trick. "Might be nice to have something like that instead of carrying around a bag all the time."

"I can help you with that," Harry raised a finger and immediately got all the looks from the group. "What? I know a thing or two about micro-technology."

Cisco shook his head. "Yeah, you know a thing or two about a lot of things."

Henry moved up the man in question, looking truly grateful. "Well, as long as what he knows keeps my son and these good people safe, the more you know, the better. Pleasure to meet you, Harrison. Again."

Harry shook hands with him. "Dr. Allen."

"Good to see you," Henry then said to Caitlin and Cisco.

"Let's go," Barry motioned to his father to lead the way out. On his way, he stopped by Belén to see if she was ready as well.

"Hm?" Belén quickly lowered her phone, an action that Barry didn't miss.

"You said you would come to lunch," Barry reminded, eyeing her phone suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

Belén nodded her head and put her phone away. Her mother was really a relentless woman. "Yes, of course. Lunch, then?" she pointed and started walking as well.

~ 0 ~

After making sure her phone was completely off, Belén allowed herself to enjoy a nice lunch in the West residence along with Barry and his father. She even became more upbeat when Iris got sly and whipped out old albums of young Barry Allen throughout his years.

Henry had himself a good laugh after picking up a picture of a pre-teen Barry with some sort of experiment behind him. "Oh, this one is definitely a keeper!"

"Oh my God, what is that?" Belén tried making out said experiment and fully failed.

"Oh, yeah," Joe laughed as the memory came back to him. "He could've done your standard vinegar and baking soda volcano, but no, Barry wanted to do a molecular structure of chocolate and nougat."

"What the hell is that?" Belén shot Barry a weird look.

"My favorite candy bar, that's what," Barry responded. "Make a mental note of that, okay?"

But Belén only made a face that had Iris laughing. "How you manage to keep me I have no idea," Belén promptly said then reached for another album nearby. Iris needed to laugh louder. "Honestly, who does this stuff?"

"Why, a true science nerd," Henry added on, making both women laugh. "Like father, like son, I suppose."

"You mean it's heritable?" Iris nudged Belén on the side. "I feel for your kids."

While the idea had both Belén and Barry sporting blush faces, Belén still had courage for a loud scoff. "My kids will be adorable."

"What - hey!" came Barry's fully offended input.

"They are," Belén gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Because they're my kids."

Barry thought about it for a second and started to smile. "Yeah, if they're yours then they would be."

Belén smiled and passed another page of the album before suddenly gasping. "Oh! Do you know what you haven't seen yet?" she looked at Henry. "Your son is actually really good at karaoke singing!"

It took less than a second for Barry to become terrified.

Henry laughed at the idea. "Is he now?"

"Yes! Oh my God, I have the video if you want to see it!" Belén started reaching for her purse when Barry lunged for said purse and stuffed it behind his back.

"Dad, I think it's time to go," he then said promptly.

"Yeah," Henry agreed through his second laugh. "Joe, can I have…?" he raised the picture he'd kept of Barry's middle school experiment.

"Yeah," Joe of course agreed.

"Thanks," Henry got up and began to say his goodbyes. "Iris, thank you so much for reaching out to me. I am so glad you did."

Belén's upbeatness temporarily faded as she remembered how it had been Iris who'd done the right thing and call Henry in. Belén blamed herself for not being more attentive, but she would never hold it against Iris.

"Me, too," Iris smiled.

"Joe, there are no words, man. Thanks," Henry gave a hug to Joe right after Iris. "And Belén, really nice seeing you again."

"You should come by more often," Belén moved up and gave him a hug. "Then I could show you the video," she whispered.

"Belén!" Barry exclaimed.

"In secret," Belén added and sent a smirk towards her boyfriend.

"Bells," Barry handed Belén her purse back, now serious, "Mind if I stop by your place tonight after I catch up with some of my work?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Belén agreed though wondered if it was really for the best. There were so many things going on with her she doubted if she would be able to keep it all in for another night.

"Great, I'll see you later, then," Barry gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and got going with his father.

"I have to go too," Belén slung her purse over her arm and helped stock the albums on the coffee table. "Need to have a talk with a mom."

"Still having problems, then?" Iris asked, and with a sigh Belén gave a nod.

"I have to figure something out or else she's going to keep sticking her nose in things and figure out secrets. Which reminds me," Belén turned to Joe, "she keeps looking into cases that you and Barry have had a handle on."

"By those I assume you mean metahuman cases?"

"Yeah. She's convinced there's something fishy about them. She's gone as far as getting Patty involved."

"Is that why she's so jumpy?" Joe chuckled.

"Working for Veronica Green does that to you," Belén shook her head.

"She can look into the cases all she wants but she's not going to find anything wrong with that. I promise," Joe raised a hand.

"I've no doubt about that, but thank you for telling me," Belén gave a warm smile to the two and took her leave.

~ 0 ~

As Barry had promised, he stopped by Belén's apartment later that night. She was already dressed in her pajamas, in case she fell asleep somewhere that wasn't her bed.

"You look extra tired," Barry had to remark once he got a good look at her.

"I feel like it," she shrugged and let herself drop onto the couch. "So many things..."

"I know," Barry took a seat next to her. "Joe told me about your Mom? Is she really that suspicious about our meta cases?"

"That and pretty much everything else," Belén sighed and brought a hand to rub her forehead. "My head's spinning and it's not leaving room for anything else. That's why it had to be Iris who thought to bring in your father. I was too busy and forgetful that Iris needed to fulfill my duties of your girlfriend."

Had it been any other moment, Barry would have laughed at that logic. Seeing Belén was truly upset thinking she somehow messed up, he knew he needed to deal with this delicately. "You can't always ignore your issues and your necessities."

Belén nodded her head to show she was understanding his points, but her face scrunched up with clear guilt. "But I love you, and I always want to be the one that helps you."

"I know that - believe me, I know know," Barry cupped her face. "But you should never have to feel like your things come after mine. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in your life and let me me try to help you like you want to help me."

"She's my mom, I should be able to handle her," Belén shook her head and pushed Barry's hands off her face. "But it's difficult when she doesn't understand you. She wants to know things about me that I can't share."

"You know, if it's about...the Azalea...you can can tell her," Barry wanted to make sure that Belén didn't feel like she needed to hide all about STAR labs from her mother. He knew well how that made people feel, as well as how it ended when the person figured things out. "You can tell her about you, about STAR Labs, about me, anything."

"Thank you," Belén said first then sighed. "But I'm not sure I can. I'm just not sure how she'd take it."

"Okay, but in the meantime, what do you want to do? She's not going to stop asking questions…"

"I know…" Belén trailed off, hoping to come up with a solution to all her problems right there and then. "But I don't know," she croaked her last words before her emotions caught up with her. "I don't know anything except that I feel like I'm drowning."

"It's okay," Barry had pulled her into a hug. "We'll figure it out, I promise." Belén nodded but kept her head buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her hair. "Let's get you some sleep tonight and then...we'll start working on it." He knew that a full rest would definitely help bring up Belén's spirits.

It was a start.

~ 0 ~

Datura brought to life one of the small devices she'd taken from Mercury Labs. It sparkled white that could blind one if used properly. But, this time, Datura wasn't looking to kill. That wasn't the purpose her newest idea.

"You should have seen it," Poison Ivy sat at the edge of a rusty table. "They went up against one of those sentient gorillas."

Datura rolled her eyes. "They have those here too? Annoying. How'd Belén do?"

"Don't know. She didn't fight," Poison Ivy smirked when Datura stopped working to look back. "Yeah, she wasn't there."

"Hmm, maybe my game is working faster than I thought," Datura smiled to herself. "I can play some good mind games and she probably already knows it. Though the poor idiot probably doesn't even understand why I can play these games so easily with her."

"If she has half a brain then she must already suspect," Poison Ivy's remark didn't affect Datura in the least.

"Please, she'd never guess," Datura took in a deep breath and pulled her hair behind her shoulders. She took off her mask and chucked it to the side. "Now come help me finish this damn thing already. I want it done as soon as possible."

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #the flash #barry allen #barry allen imagines #fd: the flash #the flash imagines #barry allen fics #the flash fics #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: the azalea #fic: rise up

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danyka-fendyr · 5 years

Text

Remind Me: Part 1

Okay so @dreamwritesimagines wanted this and I can generally be counted on to give her whatever her heart desires so here I am posting this a day early without editing. What can I say? It’s 2 AM and I have school in the morning I can edit later. Most of my energy is going into As the Raven Flies right now, so do not expect regular updates on this story because I am the worst. Anyway, the concept for this is basically what if instead of Billy getting his face slashed up and his memory wiped, something happened to Skittles and she got her memory wiped? So in this story Billy didn’t do anything to Frank’s family and none of the scars or memory erasure occurred. It is of course based off of Dream’s lovely Once a Year fic. I hope it uhh...doesn’t suck.

Your head hurt. It hurt a lot, actually. Damn, why did it hurt this bad?

As you came to, you realized that couldn’t be right. In fact, the more you thought about it, something seemed very, very wrong. Now...if only you could put your finger on what it was. Wait….that was it! You couldn’t put your finger on what it was because you couldn’t put your finger on anything!

Oh no.

You opened your eyes, squinting against the blinding white of the hospital lights. Hospital. You were in a hospital. Okay, you could still remember that much. Now if only you could remember your name.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, your eyes adjusted, and the man sitting by your bedside jumped. As in, actually jumped, then fell out of his chair, then scrambled back to his feet before hugging you very, very gently.

“Skittles,” he breathed. “I thought I lost you.”

“Dude…” You start speaking slowly, mouth dry. “I’m not a candy?”

He laughed, pulling back from the hug. “Of course you’re not.”

You stared. “I think you might have me confused with someone else.”

“Pretty sure I don’t. Something wrong, Skittles?” His eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You had to admit it to yourself. You had no idea who this stranger was, but he was a handsome stranger indeed. Tall, with dark hair and concerned brown eyes, the concern in them deepening the longer you stared at him like you had no clue who he was.

“I don’t know you.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

The handsome man’s face crumpled, and he looked terrified. “Skittles, stop playing with me. It’s not funny.”

“It’s not very funny for me either. I don’t know you. I don’t even know what my own name is. I sure hope it isn’t Skittles though.”

The man called a doctor, watching her with wide eyes. Thus ensued a long series of tests that you definitely did not want to take. There were MRI’s and CAT scans and all sorts of other unpleasant things, none of which you signed up for. Whoever this guy was, he must have had money, judging by the sway he had over the doctors. Did that mean you had money? That would be nice, you had to admit.

The doctors asked you all sorts of questions, like what the last thing you remembered was. Truthfully, there wasn’t much of a last thing to remember. It was something fuzzy around 8. Last time you checked, you were just an orphan with a penchant for Skittles. You did remember something about those. They were your favorite, you were pretty sure.

Eventually, it was just you and the man again.

“I guess I should introduce myself, huh?” He sounded heartbroken. You kind of felt bad for the guy. “I’m Billy. Billy Russo. We were best friends.”

“Oh. Darn it.”

“What?” He looked even more scared than before.

“I was hoping we were a little more than friends. You’re sort of hot, you know?” What? You had nothing to lose at this point, right?

He started laughing. A deep belly laugh, full and happy. It was the happiest you had seen him since meeting.

“Oh, you always were a wild one Skittles.”

“So how long have you known me for then?”

“Since you were about 5? It’s been a while.”

“Oh, so you friendzoned me.”

He laughed again, which was exactly what you had been going for. You smiled at the sound. Something about it felt right.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So you’re the authority on me, huh? It looks like I’ll have to be doing some studying.” You frowned slightly, and his beautiful face mirrored yours.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you back to being the authority on you in no time at all.”

You tried to smile at him, but it came up looking like more of a grimace.

“So...what was I like?”

He sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, palms face down on the blanket. “Amazing. You’re funny and fierce and stupid and my best friend.”

You couldn’t help smiling at the look on his face. He seemed to light up just talking about you, and it took your breath away.

“Was I really that great?” You asked, breathless.

“Better, Skittles. Better.”

You blushed softly. Thankfully, a doctor came in to save you. They said something about head trauma and your memories before asking you a few questions. Long story short, something smacked your noggin’ real good and knocked a few memories clean out of there. Most of it was lost on you until they informed both you and Billy that you would be staying in the hospital overnight for observation.

You shivered as they left. “I hate hospitals.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you. I mean...if you would want that.” He looked lost.

You thought for a moment. You didn’t really know this man but...for some reason you trusted him. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“So…” You both sat there awkwardly in silence. “What’s the last thing you remember? Oh, shoot, I’m sorry. You already told the doc you don’t remember anything.”

“Well...there is one thing I kind of remember but I’m not sure it’s important.”

“What is it?” Billy was watching you intently now, and you wanted to squirm under his gaze.

“Umm...something about mermaids. Just something about mermaids, and then I think something hit me.”

“Wait, mermaids?” That seemed to have gotten his attention. Did this dude have a thing for mermaids or something?

Suddenly, he was all in your face, sitting up ramrod straight. You had the sense that for some reason, your nonsensical last thought meant something to him. Now if only you could remember what.

“Does that mean something to you?” You asked, confused and admittedly a little afraid.

He started to calm down, seeing your fear. “Yeah. Yeah we uh, we had a code. If you were ever in trouble-like, serious, afraid for your life trouble-you were supposed to call me and say, mermaid. That was the codeword. Mermaid.”

“Mermaid?” That was weird.

“Yeah. It goes back to something that happened when we were kids.”

You nodded slowly. You supposed it made sense that your codeword wouldn’t make sense. Not without the proper context and memories, which you were lacking on.

“So wait...if that was the last thing I was thinking about, wouldn’t that mean…”

“What happened to you wasn’t an accident like the doctors have been saying it is.”

Billy didn’t look surprised. Just angry. Frighteningly angry, and suddenly, you felt like you had a chillingly good look at who the man really was. The look in his eyes made it clear he would go to the ends of the Earth to rip whoever hurt you into a million different parts, to pull their limbs off piece by piece and break their soul apart between his bloodied hands after. But somehow...you weren’t afraid. Something in you said that this was Billy, your Billy, and he would never do that to you. He would protect you. Always.

Instinctually, you reached out to hold his shaking hand. He looked down at it, as if just now realizing his rage had moved him, physically.

“I’m going to find out who did this to you, Skittles. I’m going to find them, and I am going to make them pay.”

“I know, Billy,” You said. “I know.”

#dreamwritesimagine #once a year #once a year fic #billy russo #billy #russo #billyxreader #reader insert #billy russo imagine #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction

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hangonimevolving · 5 years

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Inside Out and Upside Downs

Hi all. Thought I’d update on various and sundry agenda items going on in my life. Never a dull moment ‘round here.

HEALTH

Firstly, let’s talk about my innards. There’s been a whole lot of activity going on with regard to my innards of late. Thanks to the excitement of my Disney flu adventure and my New Years ICU party, I am now the subject of a great deal of medical speculation and attention, from a variety of parties. I have a standing weekly blood draw and appointment on Thursdays with my hematologist (fancy word for blood doctor) to monitor my platelet levels, and other misc blood-related information that concerns immunoglobulins and weird, mysterious things like that. I have had two appointments, as well as a momma-jomma lab workup, with a rheumatologist (fancy word for doctor who specializes in autoimmune issues). I’ve had an appointment to set up care with a brand-new-to-me primary care physician. And in the middle of all of this, I decided that since I’m going to be in/around the hospital so frequently, I might as well do a short course of physical therapy for my ankle - I never got around to doing it, so now is the time. So that’s a recurring weekly appointment on Tuesdays. I’ve also got random other crap, like a random head MRI happening tomorrow, and I’m sure there will be random tests, scans, and studies that random doctors will order at random times, and I’ll have to fit it into the schedule. I am being thoroughly examined, inside out. And with all of these medical opinions, appointments, tests and what not - in the last 24 days, there has been NO concrete diagnosis or evidence about why this whole thing actually happened. There are several theories, the two most likely of which are a) I have an autoimmune disorder. Well, we already know I have one autoimmune disorder (a not-so-bad one, called Graves Disease/hyperthyroidism, which I was first diagnosed with in 2006, and which involves your own body perceiving your own thyroid gland as a foreign object, and attacking it with antibodies). But now there is some evidence that I may have a second one, possibly a more problematic one, that is causing my immune system to overreact to normal viruses and things, and go on self-destructive rampages against my own platelets. Dumbass immune system. Now, what IS this second autoimmune disorder? THAT we don’t know. Because, the rheumatologist ran that momma-jomma test I was telling you about, and all that showed up is this one value called a positive ANA test which indicated “daaamn, there’s something f%^ed going on in this lady’s immune system!” It was a very high positive result. But, the specific tests to identify antibodies for known issues like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, etc. were all negative at this time. So. To be continued with that whole theory.....

Then there is theory #2, which is b) maybe this whole thing really WAS just the flu. Maybe the strain of virus I got was really bad, and it resulted in such a pronounced war that it just took a toll. Dunno.

Anyway. We’ll obviously be following this medical mystery with my innards closely the next few weeks. Oh, and one more thing: so my platelet levels are sorta trending down. At hospital discharge, I was at like 313K, then the next week it was like 250K, then 180K, and yesterday, 146K. They’re going to keep monitoring, and the hope is that the downtrend will plateau at some point (preferably above 30K), and then it will start to climb up when my own bone marrow gets its shit together and starts producing new platelets. If that doesn’t happen - I’m looking at more IVIG infusion treatments. So let’s see how it all goes down.

WORK

A second area of activity has been my job! The spring semester at Uuuu! started on January 13, and I am teaching two courses this time around, for the first time since 2016. I am teaching my studio dance course, per usual, but I also agreed to a late plea for help from my former department to teach a lecture/discussion course that I’ve taught jillions of times before, but haven’t done in about four years. It feels good to be back in classroom teaching mode. The course meets three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. So I’m quite busy, leaving the house around 8 am to drop the kids off at school, then getting back behind the wheel and making the hour-long drive to campus, arriving by about 9:30 am and teaching my two courses back to back. I have a big huge hike between my classes too, because they’re on opposite sides of campus, so by the time I’m done teaching, it’s about 12:20 and then I have this big long hike back to my car, then the drive back home, and I arrive around 1:30 pm. I grab a bite to eat, then at 2:45 its time to get the kids. Then three days a week, they have their extracurricular activities after school, so I’m shuttling them to those things. Then Tuesdays and Thursdays, all my medical appointments, which have been taking the majority of my mornings and early afternoons. Phew! This is all a far cry from about a year ago, when I had several mornings a week to go for a long run, either in my neighborhood or at the local state park, and I was training intensely twice a week with my Spartan SGX coach. I’ve had to seriously curtail my working out - I took a spill on my first run following the hospitalization, and the entire family freaked out about my putting myself at a bleed risk if I were to fall, bump myself, or otherwise get an injury, even a minor one, while exercising. This has been a huge crimp in my style, not working out - and if I weren't so busy with teaching, I think it would seriously depress me. But I keep telling myself its only temporary, and soon we’ll have some answers to my situation, and I”ll be able to get back into it. Till then, I’m trying to get back into meal prep and eating clean, and doing some mild exercise like light jogs and walks, light weight training, etc.

ADULTING

My mention of weight training is perhaps a segue to this next update, which I’ll keep brief and annoyingly vague. I am going through some painful adulting right now, that makes some moments feel like I’m being swallowed up by a tsunami. I’m gonna survive... but, yeah. I’m wading in the flood right now.

Okay, now for some miscellaneous updates. Mainly so I can post some pictures. This has been very text-heavy for my tastes.

MISC

On the topic of clean eating..... did you know that both papaya and pomegranate are natural platelet boosters? Supposedly. I’ve been doing a lot of research on foods and other natural ways to help boost my platelet production, and these were the top two foods that were consistently mentioned on platelet disorders blogs and forums. I confess I’m not a big fan of these fruits - but I’ve tried to put my tastebuds aside, and incorporate them into every day. Happily, papayas are widely available in the Miami area year-round.

I’ve handled the pomegranate thing by buying 100% pomegranate juice, and making cocktails of pomegranate + papaya juice (which is papaya pulp mixed in pear juice).

On the topic of foods and eating well - here is my guilty indulgence of late. I ADOOOOORE ramen bowls. ADORE. And I know they are the opposite of low-carb and healthy.... but I have been making a ton of them at home lately. I try to make them as healthy as I can, by 1) only using half of the ramen spice packet that comes with the noodles - this cuts the sodium to a tolerable amount (plus I drink lots of water), 2) I sautée minced garlic + approximately one full cup of shiitake mushrooms + approximately 1.5 full cups of baby spinach leaves in a dash of olive oil, and add to every bowl I make (mushrooms are full of B-vitamins and, alongside garlic, are huge immunity boosters, and spinach is full of iron and calcium, and is a good thing for me to be eating to make my blood sort itself out) , and 3) I often either crack an egg over the entire boiling mixture right at the end, or I add in sliced hard-boiled egg for extra folate and protein. And I sometimes add in a handful of raw shredded carrots right at the end, for a little crunch, color, fiber, and beta carotene. I *think* that I’m doing my best to make this indulgence food a little healthier, and tailored to my specific medical situation.

Soup has been a huge craving of late, because we had a surprising cold spell in Miami. It got down to 39F day before yesterday! That’s probably the coldest its ever been since we moved to Florida.

Afternoon snuggle time was especially snuggly - Dey and I were huddled for warmth!

My ability to run and work out at a high intensity may be somewhat muted at the moment, and this has been sort of a hard mental adjustment for me. But I am trying to get outside and do things, because it makes me feel better, and also I imagine the vitamin D is good for me. The other day, I was feeling pretty dumpy and blah - so I did something that for some reason I’d been putting off, “saving” for a special occasion, whatever. I cut the tags off of a brand-new Spartan licensed active top that I’d purchased on Cyber Monday, put it on, and went for a light 2-mile jog in the neighborhood. I felt silly in a way of making a big thing of it in my head - but the truth is, it lifted my spirits.

What else... Oh, this was exciting! GUESS WHAT, dudes. On Monday, I saw a real live MANATEE in the lake behind our house! I could hardly believe my eyes. A neighbor had reported on our community WhatsApp group just the day before seeing a manatee from her backyard. She posted a picture of it, which I am shamelessly going to post here. The manatee I saw, about 24 hours later, was different - it was considerably smaller than this one, I think probably a juvenile (not quite a baby, but definitely not humongous like this one). But it was swimming slowly near the sea wall that abuts our backyard, munching on some sea grass just like this big manatee. I did my best to run into the house and call the kids to come out as quietly as they could to see it - I think they caught a tiny glimpse, but our footsteps must have spooked it, because it definitely swam away quickly. I hope we’ll see it again!

Photographic evidence that we are LEGIT Floridians who hang out with manatees :)

Last but not least - on the topic of water creatures, gotta give a shout-out to my Vev, who “leveled up” at his swimming lessons this week to Junior Swim Team! The swim school has about 10 levels through which kids have to work to get to this point, and in the last ~18 months, Vev has completed them all. I was somewhat nostalgic and verklempt when he got his ribbon this time - I feel like it was only yesterday that we took him to swimming school for the first time, where he screamed bloody murder and cried the entire duration of his 25 minute assessment, clinging desperately to his teacher and feeling panicky about letting go in the water. How far he’s come!

(by the way, Dey is also doing wonderfully at swimming, and is only like 1.5 levels away from his own Junior Swim Team ribbon).

So some of my life is inside out and upside down right now, it is true. But some of it is Upside-Up. I work hard EVERY day to focus on the Upside-Up, and what a treat it is to see. These kids, the sunshine I get to enjoy here, the afternoon snuggle times, delicious food that also is good for me.... net balance is that life is good, I’m still alive and kicking, and everything is gonna work out fine.

Toodles!

#fitness #platelets #Sickness #Vev #Dey #food #animals

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justinsdaysinthedark · 5 years

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Post #1 - Welcome

Firstly, welcome. Whether you’re family, a friend or even somebody I don’t know - welcome to what will be my journey. I’ll be honest and upfront about what’s going on and I’m not afraid to express my deepest feelings.

Will this blog be everybody’s cup of tea? Absolutely not. I’ll give you the heads up now - this will be boring. This will lead down some dark and negative paths (don’t stress, it’ll be mostly positive!). I do feel however that I need to express myself this way and explore my emotions as they clash with what is going on. Sit back, relax and come with me in what will be some light slightly heavy reading.

Where does one start with such a blog? Let me preface this by saying once all is said and done, I will never complain about anything trivial again. Ever. The past six weeks has been an emotional roller coaster - not only on myself but those close to me. I wouldn’t wish this upon anybody I know and I don’t say that lightly!

Where am I at now? Monash Hospital - Clayton. Over the past six weeks, I’ve spent 26 days in hospital across three different stints. It’s currently 22:49 on Monday 15th July and I’m about to endure what will be the most confronting couple of days I’ve experienced in my life... but let’s roll it back a few weeks and fill you in.

What’s wrong? Where and how did it all it begin? Let’s touch over a few things...

Sunday June 2nd - It all started with an immense eye pain one Sunday afternoon. I’d stayed up late into the night to watch Australia’s first Cricket World Cup clash with Afghanistan. Getting to bed at roughly 3am Sunday morning and waking up normally by 10am, I thought this particular Sunday was going to be a stock standard one. I stayed over at my partner Courtney’s house and we went to watch her nephew play football. 4pm rolled around on Sunday and I thought I was suffering from what I thought was a simple case of eye strain - a deep, immense pain in my left eye. After all, my mum, dad and sister all have glasses so I assumed my time was up!

Courtney booked me an appointment at the optometrist for the following weekend and I kept on in my evening assuming this eye pain would settle with some rest.

Monday June 3rd - Waking up Monday morning, the pain was still there. Had it gotten slightly better? Not at all. I continued on my Monday as normal with an incredibly busy day at work and headed around to Courtney’s for the weekly ‘Monday night roast’ courtesy of her mother. Knowing I had a rostered day off on Tuesday, I knew I could sleep in, relax, take it easy and my eye would eventually get better - surely! It has to!

Tuesday June 4th - With the day off, no alarms set I was woken up at 8:30am with the call I was least expecting. My mum was in tears as she somehow bravely blurted that my grandfather had passed away that morning. Poppy was ill and attempting to recover from a recent hip operation he had after a fall - we all thought he’d fight through it and keep battling but unfortunately his time was up and nanny had called him to join her. A man I was so close with, a fighter had suddenly left us. I was in shock, but raced to pick mum up from work. We made the decision to join my family in Bairnsdale - 3 hours away from where I live. Mum and I shared the driving there, no worries in the world. My eye pain was still there - Worse than it had been, but that was secondary this day. I could still see perfectly normal still assuming it was just eye strain.

Wednesday June 5th - As soon as I woke up, I knew something wasn’t right with my left eye. The pain had slightly subsided however my vision just wasn’t right. I can’t explain what I felt that morning. My left eye was still moving as it should however the vision just wasn’t right. I chose to close my left eyelid and primarily look through my right. It was at this moment I just knew it wasn’t an eye strain - it was something worse.

Mum went down the street that morning and I tagged along. Fortunately, Specsavers (Bairnsdale’s local optometrist) was open and they could squeeze me in for an eye check. I knew I had to rule that out before attending a hospital.

Not to my surprise, my vision was 20/20 out of each eye as it had been for my life. The optometrist suggested if I’m having issues, to head to the local hospital - so that I did.

Rolling on into Bairnsdale Regional Hospital at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon wasn’t exactly on my schedule when heading down to Bairnsdale originally, but that’s what it had come to. The triage nurse saw me immediately and rushed me through to be seen (within 30 minutes and a waiting room full of patients!) The doctor - who was only in his second year out of uni was quick to assess that I was having issues with my third nerve (something that wouldn’t be mentioned again for a couple of days). In consultation with the Eye and Ear Hospital in Melbourne, it was recommended I leave Bairnsdale immediately and go and present myself to them - a 4 hour drive. With other matters on my mind, I was hesitant to go. My family basically pushed me out the door and it was at that moment that I knew I had to go.

9pm I walk in the entrance to a ridiculously busy waiting room. I present myself to triage and they pull the papers they had from earlier in the day. I thought this may mean I’d get through a bit quicker - boy oh boy I was wrong! Fortunately, State of Origin I was on and that entertained me until 10:30... and from there it was a genuine slog. 11:45pm I walked through the sliding doors and was met by who I can best describe as an overenthusiastic young(ish) Pom who was keen to have a look at me. It was late. I was tired. This bloke was over the top, but my word did he know his stuff! Did that help him diagnose me? No. 2am came around and he sent me home, telling me to expect a call at 9am with plans on what to do next.

Thursday June 6th - Just to his word, a phone call comes in at 9am from the doctor I’d seen only seven hours earlier. He advised I needed a CT scan (at 1pm) and an appointment with a specialist (3pm). The CT scan went well and I assumed I’d be out by 4pm and be able to head to the Sandown Greyhounds for the night as I’d been busy organising a night out over the weeks prior. This all changed when we saw the specialist. She ran her basic tests and ordered an MRI scan ASAP. I got taken over to St. Vincent’s Private Hospital for the scans via an underground tunnel - yes! They exist! My very first MRI scan was done and back to the Eye and Ear Hospital we went. The specialist that I’d seen earlier in the day was rostered on that night in emergency fortunately for me! She got the scan results back and ruled out a stroke and bleeding on my brain pretty early. This was a relief, I suppose. I wasn’t going to die in the short term! It was from here where she advised i’d be required to be admitted to St. Vincent’s Hospital that night for further tests over the next few days. It was at this point where I felt helpless. Disappointed and helpless. I was expecting to have a few tests done and go home and continue my life as per normal. I didn’t want to be admitted to a hospital so far away from home. I didn’t want to wait around for tests. I wanted to be home. In my bed. Some normality at least. This is where my mindset had to change and that it did - pretty quickly.

Dad walked with me over to St. Vincent’s and we entered the emergency department. We were told “you won’t have to wait long... they are already expecting you.” Well, once again, what was I thinking? A city central hospital with no waiting in emergency? In retrospect, I was definitely getting my hopes up.

A solid 3 hour wait finally saw me enter through the doors and be seen to. This is where dad left me - for the first time in this ordeal I was alone. Was I scared? I won’t lie. Yes, yes I was. At 24 years old, no idea what’s wrong with me and alone in a major hospital in the city? I think that’s justified.

How’s the eye at this stage? Terrible. In the prior 24 hours I’d developed double vision and my left eye had significantly moved with no ability to control it - as you can see below.

Friday June 7th - 4am I was finally taken to a ward and had a bed to myself. It was on the 9th floor in the ward that generally deals with major bone breaks and reconstructions/replacements. I was wheeled into a twin-share room with an old guy who had just had his hip replaced. In retrospect, I had such a good room in what turned out to be an incredible hospital. The food was excellent, the nurses went above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable and as happy as you can be and in the end, I had a great view of Melbourne.

10am came by and I saw the first of what felt like 100 doctors that day. They were pretty quick to diagnose me with Third Nerve Palsy in my left eye - something I hadn’t heard since I first presented in Bairnsdale two days prior.

Unfortunately, being a part of the neuro team of doctors - things didn’t happen too quickly. Just my luck too, this upcoming weekend was the Queens Birthday long weekend. I didn’t realise or even think that hospitals go on skeleton staff over the weekends and scans don’t get done very quickly... I wasn’t booked in for a follow up CT and MRI scan until Tuesday...

Monday June 10th - I’m not going to lie. Mentally I was struggling. Presented to a hospital on Thursday night/Friday morning for what was Third Nerve Palsy and they just left me there over the weekend. No follow ups. No nothing. I didn’t realise how much hospitals shut down over weekends - I certainly do now! I was a mess. I felt lost. I didn’t know what was going on or even why for that matter. My eye was doing something it had never done and I couldn’t control it. I felt helpless and lonely.

Courtney was just getting over a serious case of the flu, so I hadn’t seen her in over a week and it was killing me.

I broke down Monday night after I’d calmed down from what was a good win by my Pies. 8pm came around, visitors were gone and I was there by myself. No clear plan about what was wrong with me or how they were going to fix it. I was an emotional mess.

Tuesday June 11th - Finally. The long weekend was over and didn’t I notice the difference. 7am and the hospital was a hive of activity. My CT and MRI scans were booked in for later that day as well as what will turn out to be my first of many lumbar punctures (LP) - something that scared the life out of me. Mentally, 24 hours later I was doing okay. I could see things progressing...but one thing was playing on my mind. Poppy’s funeral was on Friday and I knew within myself I had to be there to say my final goodbye. I let the nurses and doctors know and they seemed to be okay with letting me out on day leave - however logistically that left an issue. 4 hour drive with an 11am funeral wasn’t going to be possible.

Wednesday June 12th - At this stage, my eye hadn’t got any worse. It was just the third nerve affected and otherwise, I was perfectly fine. The results of my scans and LP came back which showed inflammation on my third nerve (which was expected) as well as a high white blood cell and protein count. This lead the doctors to believe it was due to either inflammation or infection. The doctors pretty quickly leant away from infection as I wasn’t presenting with any other signs so they treated me with an incredibly high dosage of a steroid called methylprednisolone to treat the inflammation.

IV drip for the first lot on Wednesday night and 10x 100mg tablets on each Thursday and Friday.

Thursday June 13th - The doctors agreed to let me out Thursday afternoon providing I had no further reactions to the methylprednisolone. Turns out I didn’t, so they fortunately let me out at 3pm to do what I needed to over the following few days. They were happy not to see me again unless of course things progressed and got worse and organised a follow up scan in two months time. At this stage, the diagnosis was Third Nerve Palsy due to inflammation of the nerve that was treated via steroids and may get better over the following weeks or months - or may not get better at all.

Friday June 14th - Sunday June 16th - Whilst Friday was a heavily emotional day saying my final farewell to Poppy, physically I got through it okay and had no further issues. This was my life now - whether I liked it or not. Deep down I had confidence it would get better in time and I’d have to see St. Vincent’s every few weeks to check up and I was okay with that.

Monday June 17th - I wake up Monday morning at home incredibly sick. What was wrong with me? I didn’t sleep during the night and was having hot and cold flushes, dizzy spells, hallucinations, no appetite and had absolutely no idea where I was. It was the flu, without having the flu or feeling sick. It was such a strange feeling. I started to develop an immense pain in my right jaw - incredibly similar to my eye. I started to worry - instantly. I called the doctor who was looking after me at St. Vincent’s and he wasn’t worried about it. He advised me to go to my GP and just get an X-ray to make sure everything is okay.

Deep down, I knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. I suspected the sickness was the come down from such a high dosage of steroids (which was later confirmed) but this jaw pain felt all too similar and I was scared.

Needless to say, I didn’t go to the GP or get an X-ray purely because I didn’t want another round of doctors looking at me, wasting the prior time at St. Vincent’s.

This continued through Tuesday and Wednesday. Exactly the same symptoms... I got further worried.

Thursday June 20th - Mum was on my back about going to my GP. I was resentful, but booked an appointment for 4pm to get checked out. I was still a mess, but better than I had been. Dad took me to my GP appointment and came in with me. By this stage, I couldn’t chew. I’d lost all strength completely in my jaw - both right and left side. My regular doctor took one look at me, checked my files she got from St. Vincent’s that morning and advised that I needed to head back into hospital - be it St. Vincent’s or Monash Hospital Clayton. She recommended Monash Clayton for two reasons; 1. Closer to home & 2. Well renown Neuro doctors.

I was hesitant, but knew I had to. I was more open to going than I had been a fortnight prior and was happy to be in for the long haul. Mentally, I was in a good spot. I knew something more was wrong and it wasn’t just inflammation. Alas, in I went. Straight to Emergency Department at Monash Clayton.

Friday June 21st - To cut a long story short, to get a bed at Monash Clayton was horrible! I spent a few hours in emergency, followed by 5 hours in short stay and eventually 24 hours in a day ward before I was moved onto a general medical ward. Friday was spent in the day ward with Neuro doctors coming back and forth obsessing over my eye and jaw issues.

I’d bloody done it again. Gone into hospital late on a Thursday... this time I knew not much would happen over the weekend and I was prepared for that.

Monday June 24th - As expected, not a whole lot happened over the weekend. I got moved to a general medical ward and that was it.

Monday afternoon finally brought some news once the Neuro team had looked at me properly. I’d lost my third nerve (which we already knew) and my fifth nerve (jaw) was also shot and gone. Great. I couldn’t eat. I was put on what was called a ‘minced and moist diet’ which can only be described as an unknown meat, minced with gravy with a few unknown vegetables on the side (see below). It was horrible. I didn’t have much of an appetite however what I did have was quickly swept away with the sight of this food.

Over the next few days, more CT, MRI, Ultrasounds and LP’s were done. Blood tests twice daily. I was quite frankly getting sick and tired of getting poked, prodded and scanned only for the Neuro doctors to come in once (maybe twice) a day to tell me there’s no real update and they needed to wait for tests to come back.

Thursday 27th June - During the week, things had progressively gotten worse. I’d lost my sixth nerve in my left eye as well as feeling in my chin (just below my mouth) and started to develop quite a large, painful lump underneath my right earlobe.

Doctors were then forced to act fast. They’d suspected I was suffering from either a virus that hadn’t made itself too known and was attacking my nerves or an auto immune disease that was forcing my white blood cells to attack my own nerves, picking them off one by one.

They did some more tests and sent them to both Brisbane and Canberra to be looked at as Monash Clayton or anywhere in Melbourne couldn’t get the results they wanted.

Immediately, they started to treat me for both of these conditions simultaneously. I was having an anti-viral drip 3x/day every 8 hours for the virus as well as what was called IVIG (derived from blood) to fight the auto immune disease and kill off my bad white blood cells.

I was scared. Every day I was getting worse and I suppose I just wanted to know what was wrong with me. I probably felt most for my direct family and Courtney who all had no answers despite all the tests and scans I’d done previously. They were left in the dark - as was I. 22 days it had been since I felt some sort of normality and it was killing me. The fact they had no answers was slowly eating away at me, but I put on a smile and a positive attitude as I always do. They’ll find something soon. They have to. It’ll come back positive for auto-immune, I’ll get treated and away we go back to normality. I was wrong.

Friday July 5th - This treatment cycle went on for the next week or so. The doctors were happy I wasn’t getting worse, my sixth nerve had slightly returned so they were happy to let me go home. 15 days in hospital this spell. It didn’t feel like 15 days though, not to me anyway. I think that’s probably because of the positive mindset and willingness to stay in until they found what was wrong with me. I’d started to develop muscle aches and pains in my left leg but I thought nothing of it - assuming that was just because I’d been in hospital and confined to a 3x3 room for 15 days!

I’d had a full body MRI scan and ultrasound on my leg the day earlier and they saw something around my stomach they wanted to investigate a little bit further. Before they let me out, we agreed to have a follow up MRI in two or three weeks as well as a PET scan within the next week and a bit to investigate my stomach a bit more. I was happy, the doctors were happy and away I went. Back into the world they call life. I was happy.

Monday July 8th - After spending a relaxing weekend between home and Courtney’s, I had an unexpected call at 1pm. It was a woman from Moorabbin Hospital wanting to urgently book me in for a PET scan and was wondering when I was available. She advised she only really had the following day at 2:30pm available for the next three weeks and advised I need to be there. So I took it. I had no bloody idea what a PET scan was, so as any 24 year old would do, I gave it a Google.

“A positron emission tomography (PET) scan is an imaging test that allows your doctor to check for diseases in your body....”

My heart sunk as I read a bit more. PET scans are generally used to pick up cancers. Wait. What? Why do the doctors want to do this so urgently? They were talking over the next week and a half, so why are they doing it now? My gut feeling wasn’t good. I knew something deeper was wrong but I brushed it aside - my condition despite being unconfirmed was in my mind, still auto-immune.

Tuesday July 9th - I’d never had a PET scan before but I did a YouTube search so I knew what to expect. It was like a CT scan pretty much. They inject the radioactive glucose into you, wait an hour so your body can absorb it and have a scan. Simple.

For the first time in this whole ordeal, something went exactly as I expected it. It was an easy process made easier by the wonderful nurses in there. My PET scan went well and I was happy. I was convinced nothing would show but still had that deep feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.

I had a call that night and booked myself in for a follow up MRI at Monash Clayton for the following day - once again a few weeks earlier than expected. The woman on the phone said the doctors wanted to rush it through and once again, my gut sank. Something just wasn’t right. Why are the doctors pushing through these scans when we’d only discussed 4 days earlier about having them in a few weeks. Whatever. I’ll go. I have to. I just want to know what’s wrong with me!

Thursday July 18th - 16:32. An unknown number calls. This is how I’ve been getting my scans booked. Is it another one? “Is that Justin?” the gentleman on the other end of the line goes.

“It’s Jason from the haematology department at Monash Clayton. I’m not sure if your Neuro doctors have called you yet, but I’ve just had a look at your PET scan from Tuesday with them. We can see significant areas in your stomach, liver, gall bladder and groin that has lit up which we weren’t expecting. It’s your lymphnodes that have reacted with the glucose and are showing us we need to investigate a bit more. We’ll need to get you in for another LP and we’re going to have to do a biopsy of those lymphnodes to get more of an idea. At this stage, we’re looking at lymphoma as a genuine cause of what’s wrong with you...”

I tune out. I’m still processing his first few sentences. What? You mean they’ve found something that isn’t related to the nerves in my eye? Lymphoma? Isn’t that cancer? I might have a type of cancer? But I’m 24? That can’t be right.

I finish the conversation with him and hang up the phone. I was home with mum and the time. She looks at me and asked what the phone call was about. I break down. I cry. I don’t know how to process the news. I’m a mess for a solid 15 minutes. I eventually get strong enough to tell mum. She breaks down as well. It must’ve been incredibly difficult to hear your 24 year old son may have lymphoma. I call dad and let him know....and Courtney. Other than that, I keep it on the downlow. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. What if it is nothing?

Jason calls back later that night. Pretty much says I have an appointment on Monday for another LP and they want to do the biopsy ASAP. He said not to go to ED at Monash Clayton and just to expect a call at any moment between then and Monday that they have a bed for me. When I get the call, I had to go in. I was okay with this. It wasn’t going to happen for a few days!

Sunday July 14th - Court and I went down to dads for the lunch and catch up with his wife and her kids. It was a great day to forget about the reality of life for a few hours. That was until we went to Coles to get stuff for lunch and I had a missed call from a private number. Without listening to the voicemail, I knew what it was. My gut dropped. I told Courtney and we listened to the voicemail together.

“Hi Justin, we’re just letting you know a bed is available and if you could come into the ward ASAP.”

I’m okay with it. I knew it was coming... then a few minutes later I broke down in the middle of Coles. What hit me? I don’t know. Reality I suppose. I didn’t want to go back in. I knew I had to. I knew this trip was going to be about whether or not I have lymphoma - a type of a cancer. I was scared. I grabbed Courtney’s shoulder and just cried. Cried for a solid 5 minutes. I couldn’t control myself. It just hit me.

I thought I’d wait until they called back instead of making that call to enquire further to bide myself an extra hour or two. Half an hour later, they call and I answer. I was able to arrange an extra four hours until I had to be in there. This gave me enough time to get home, pack a bag and mentally prepare myself to head in.

By 5pm that night, I was in a bed with the lumbar puncture booked for the following day at 2:30pm.

Monday July 16th (Today) - I’m not afraid to say I hate LP’s. Being larger than your average 24 year old, they can’t do the blind and require them under CT guidance. It makes the process easier, but it certainly doesn’t feel as pleasant!

I saw the haematology doctor at 11:30 this morning. He was open and honest with me. Which I appreciated. He basically said up front “We’re 90% sure you have lymphoma. All we are waiting on is the biopsy to come back positive and we can start treatment...which will be chemo...”

That’s about all I took out of the conversation. It hit me. Not hard that I’d cry, but the reality hit me hard. Here I am, apart from overweight, I’m a normal otherwise healthy 24 year old. In the space of six weeks, I’ve developed symptoms I don’t wish upon anybody and getting told the doctors are 90% certain I have lymphoma.

I’m not going to lie, it’s not easy to be where I am at the moment. It’s a funny time in my life. I’m being as positive as I can however I know I’m about to face the biggest battle of my life. In a way, I really hope the biopsy does come back positive - just so we finally have something. Confirmation on something and can start treatment pretty much instantly.

With my biopsy scheduled for between 8:30 - 11:30 tomorrow, I’m not going to lie, i’m shitting myself. Sedate me. Put a camera down my mouth to my stomach. Take tissue samples of my lymphnodes. Sounds like a great Tuesday morning to me. For once in my life I think I’d prefer to be at work!

Realistically, I’m expecting the results back from the biopsy in 24-36 hours from tomorrow morning and expect if confirmed to be lymphoma, to begin my chemo treatment late this week.

As I said earlier, it’s going to be the biggest fight of my life...But I’m ready. I’m not prepared to fail, I never have been. I will beat whatever is wrong with me.

If you’ve made it this far, kudos. It’s now 1:32am and I’m starting to get the tired eyes. As I started, I feel as if I had to start this blog to move forward mentally. Whilst this will be my longest entry I’ll have, it certainly won’t be my last. I assure you of that.

Wish my luck for tomorrow!

Juzz xx

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muslimsonic · 6 years

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ADHD: Executive Dysfunction

Alright, so I’ve been seeing a lot of stuff about how people struggle with understanding what ADHD is, how it operates, and how it differs from the experiences of the middle 50% [25%-75%] considered the average. And I didn’t research ADHD for 9 hours straight not to dump all of this here.

Note: I have ADHD, I’ve researched this, but I am not a medical professional blah blah blah ok now onto the fun interesting stuff!!!!

I put this under a cut bc its,,,, longish.

What is executive functioning?

Executive functioning is what carries you from day to day tasks. It’s like the constantly active personal assistant in the back of your head. Let’s call them Effie. Effie constantly makes lists and breaks down tasks for you! I don’t mean large projects, I mean the simple stuff!

Like doing your laundry.

If you have ADHD, or anything with executive dysfunction as an issue, then you probably already know that the simple stuff hardly ever feels simple.

Doing your laundry requires many motions, most of which you omit in listing what you must do to complete this task.

Someone with executive functions in working order, probably

1. Take the laundry basket/bin/thing to the washing machine

2. Put the laundry in the washing machine

3. Put the detergent in the machine

4. Turn on the machine

5. When it is ready, put the clothes in the dryer

6. Collect the clothes when finished

7. Take them back to your room

8. Fold and put away

Tada! All done. There are quite a few steps omitted that you would consider givens. However, try and apply this precise list to someone with executive dysfunction, and you will most likely not have the same success, because of the number of places where steps conflict, being thrown out in favor of what is done immediately. Here’s a small idea of how many cracks are in this plan, even at step one:

1. Take the laundry basket/bin/thing to the washing machine

When?> I’ll do it after I finish what I’m doing > Oh no I just remembered something else > What did I forget to do? > Oh no now I have no clothes for work/school/whatever > MISSION FAILED

When?> Someone else is using the washing machine now, i’ll do it later > What did I forget to do? > Oh no now I have no clothes :( > MISSION FAILED

Why? > I have enough clothes right now, I’ll be fine > Oh no I ran out of clean socks + underwear > MISSION FAILED

What?> There’s no detergent so I can’t do this > (at the grocery store) I think i have everything! > Oh no i forgot detergent > I have no clean clothes :( > MISSION FAILED

When?> I have too much free time so I’ll do it after I take care of this other thing that’s equally important > Oh no I forgot to do my laundry I don’t have anything to wear > MISSION FAILED

In what order? > There’s too much to do and they are all registered in my head as permanently equal priority so I have to do them all at the same time, but I can’t do them all at the same time, so I physically am unable to proceed until this loop/error is resolved.

What extra steps are involved?> Huh i know i have to take my laundry to the washing machine, but there’s also stuff in the washing machine area/on the way there that needs to be moved in order to do it, but I haven’t thought of that, instead seeing metaphorically an indistinct looming mass of extra equal priority work around taking my laundry to the washing machine > I don’t do it > MISSION FAILED

And that’s only a few of the cracks in step one.

See the problem?

Let’s take a closer look at how deep it goes. Do you know how much you rely on executive functioning in your day to day life? Yes? No? How did you get out of bed this morning? How did you open your eyes? Everything you do, even running away from something chasing you, is dependent on executive functioning. Memory. Recall. Starting anything, and I mean anything. Breaking down what needs to be done. You’re so used to it, you see a lot of the steps as givens not needed to be stated. When do you do this? What priority level is this? Every success you’ve had in your life, you would not have had without your executive functioning.

It’s the messenger, sending signals from the hub, recall this, you have to do this, this task is more important than this, this is what you’re going to do. It translates thought into action, idea into concept into reality. It’s the Director, streamlining things, going into crisis management when you make a major mistake or fail to do something, or have something due, or or or. Granted, executive functions aren’t the be all end all of human success, but they are to you as a foundation is to a building.

Scary to think what would happen if it just

stopped.

You could think all you want, of course. You need to do this. You want to do that. You scream and rail and fight against a prison of your own unresponsive limbs.

There’s nothing physically wrong with your limbs. They are in perfect working order. Or at least as working as they had been before. There’s no reason for you to feel like this. You feel like your brain is setting itself on fire in its attempts to send it messages to get a response any kind of fucking response. You feel hopeless. You gain no mental traction. You gain nothing but your own hatred and frustration and gain the same of others too.

Because they think you’re faking it. That you just don’t want to do it hard enough. That you just need to apply yourself.

The thing is, you’ve been trying. Your mind is a car in a swamp, uselessly running its wheels to no avail, sinking deeper and deeper into the muck. You are straining as hard as you possibly can. There’s no more gas in the tank. You have nothing left to give.

And you have nothing to show for it.

In this hell, you’ve accomplished nothing. You’ve succeeded at nothing. Nothing you do, nothing you say, and nothing you want can ever happen in this moment.

You almost feel like dying. But you can’t. You can’t, not because of will to live, not because of hope, and not because of love, but because you cannot get your limbs to remember what motion is, your brain to remember the past, and your heart to remember restraint. Frustration, anger, hatred, all of the ugliest emotions the soul has to offer spill over. You feel like you can never be happy again. That you’ve never felt happy before. That this awful feeling crawling into the crevices of your lungs and trachea and curling its way around your stomach and spleen is what you will feel like for the rest of your life.

And then you forget. You forget everything that got you to that point. the wave recedes. you feel nothing. you remember only blurs of what occurred at best. only to experience the same fucking thing again, and again, and again and its always as raw and drowning as the first time you felt it, you never grow used to it, and it will never stop, it will never cease, and no one believes you when you say you are trying. You are a soul inside a vessel that doesn’t want to be yours.

anyways! while this may seem like an extreme, the last few paragraphs are a pretty solid descriptor of how living with executive dysfunction feels like! this is also a solid reason why people with ADHD are more likely to have anxiety and depression! the same thing is characteristic of people with disorders that have executive dysfunction as a symptom!

so TL;DR: Executive Dysfunction is not the same as laziness; it is a fundamental difference in the brain structure and wiring or a deficiency in neurotransmitter production.

speaking of that, moving onto the physiological side of executive dysfunction! Yes! There’s actually a physiological side to ADHD! Pretty sure that’s a characteristic of all brain disorders illnesses and the like but people still say its fake! :D

ok i’m getting tired so heres the rundown:

lower catecholamine levels: catecholamine is a class of neurotransmitter that includes fun stuff like

Dopamine: the motivation sauce

Seratonin: Happy Happy Happy

Adrenaline: you put this in epipens. fight or flight

Noradrenaline: also fight or flight. includes attention as well. at higher levels, anxiety. Thanks, God.

Its bad. bc the body’s natural reward system (dopamine) isn’t at normal levels, the nice little feel good kick after you make your bed or brush your teeth?? nope!!!!!!! Thus there is little internal motivation to do anything. WOW!!! How did adhd get passed down in the gene pool???? is it recessive?? bc im rly at a loss. idk someone with a medical degree in brain science dm me abt it. I rly need to understand.

Also the frontal lobe, y’know the thing controlling judgment, morals, impulses, emotions, all of that fun stuff???? it’s usually behind in development, typically evening out mid to late twenties, but its still,,,,, not Great. Wow!!

White matter abnormalities are apparently a thing too?? White matter is the brains messaging system so when that’s messed up I’m pretty sure thats not a good thing.

anyways, i’m tired now, its been 2 hrs since i’ve started writing this and I have a metric ton of things that I needed to start but didn’t, so

TL;DR: ADHD (and by further extent, executive dysfunction)has a basis in science and has physiological stuff associated with it that (i think since MRIs aren’t being used to diagnose adhd) is just being studied recently, and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh google exists use it b4 getting into arguments abt the existence of disorders and such. plz. im begging you.

#actuallyadhd #executive functioning #executive dysfunction #adhd #ramadan says things

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fuzzballsheltiepants · 7 years

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Back to the Start, part 8

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court, post-canon. Memories keep coming back, and Neil can’t really be...real, can he? And Katelyn’s kind of awesome. Read it on AO3 if you choose. Read Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Likes, comments, and reblogs really appreciated!

After Aaron and Katelyn left for the night, Neil found he couldn’t settle. Andrew was out cold. He pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen for a while; he felt a strong urge to see what the internet trolls were saying but knew it would only piss him off.

Aaron had confirmed Neil’s suspicion. Neil tried not to resent that Andrew would talk to Aaron and not to him; it wasn’t Aaron’s fault, or Andrew’s for that matter. Or his.

He wandered down the hall to the deserted waiting area. The nurse at the desk gave him a quick smile then returned to his computer. Neil clicked on his phone and pulled up his contact list. Betsy Dobson was the first of the Bs. It was just after nine; he thought she would still be up.

She picked up on the second ring. “Betsy, it’s Neil.”

“Neil! This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Not at all, I was just having a cup of tea and reading a rather terrible novel.”

Neil picked at a threadbare seam on the corner of the couch he had flopped down on and tried to think of what to say. He didn’t really know what he expected Betsy to do from South Carolina.

“Neil?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Don’t hang up, Neil. I’m guessing you’re calling because of something with Andrew.”

Neil pressed the fingers of his free hand into his eyes. “He remembered Drake.”

There was a short pause. “I’m sure that was very difficult for both of you.”

“What do you know about his…situation?”

“Just what David shared with me and what was on the news.”

“He doesn’t remember much of the past few years,” Neil gritted out. “He doesn’t really remember me.”

The pause was longer this time. “What do the doctors say?”

“They say he’s doing well. They say this is ‘normal’ for this type of injury.” He laughed without humor. “I’m starting to understand why Andrew has grudges against certain words.”

“But you said he’s recovering memories.”

“Some, yeah. Mostly the terrible ones, as far as I can tell.”

“Or perhaps those are the ones he can’t help but show.”

Neil digested that. “I just don’t understand how this works. How can he remember Baltimore, but not really remember who I am? I mean, he knows my name, he remembers hitting me with that racquet, but I’m not sure he remembers me. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do. Have you asked him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He could hear that she knew his answer in her tone. Instead he asked, “Can’t you help him with recovering his memory?”

“Not really, no,” she said gently. “I can help him process what he knows, and that may help in turn, but really it’s up to his brain. On the plus side, we know what a formidable one he has.”

“I’m still not sure what’s going to happen when he’s released, anyway. If he’s going to come back down with me or not.”

“Don’t forget that he has an excellent therapist there in Boston. Depending on how long he’s hospitalized, and what the next step is, Dr. Isaac may be a better option. Have you contacted him?”

“No,” Neil said, feeling like an idiot for the thousandth time that week. “I don’t know how to.”

“I imagine his number is in Andrew’s phone.” Right. The phone still sitting in the stadium with all of his other stuff. Neil wondered how he had forgotten about that.

“How are you doing, Neil? Not you-and-Andrew, but you.” When he didn’t answer she added, “There’s a reason you called me rather than talking to his doctors.”

He just wanted everything back to the way it was. A week ago he had been wrapped up with Andrew in their bed savoring the last of his break. Just a week ago. “I’m fine.”

She sighed. “All right, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.”

“In that case, get some sleep. Good night, Neil.”

He thought he thanked her before hanging up. He hoped he had. Pulling his fingers away from the loose threads on the couch, he dragged himself back to the room.

*****

The click of a door registered through the haze of sleep and Andrew snapped awake. The room was oddly lit. He blinked. It wasn’t his room. He blinked again. There was an empty chair next to his bed and a window in the door. He dragged himself out of the nightmare - or was it a memory? Not that there was much of a difference. All his nightmares were really memories.

A few more blinks and he was back in the present. He could hear subtle movement in the room then Neil appeared in his line of vision, furtively preparing for sleep. Neil lowered himself slowly into the chair, then froze when he saw Andrew’s eyes on him. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Just a couple hours. You can go back to sleep, I’m done making noise.”

But for once Andrew wasn’t sleepy. Judging by the way Neil held his eyes once he was settled into the chair, neither was he. “What.”

Neil blinked at him in confusion. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m always staring.”

“Yeah but now you’re staring with a purpose.”

Neil looked away, fiddling with his hands. “I hate this,” he said finally. Andrew waited. “I hate that you only remember the bad stuff.”

Andrew didn’t know how to respond to that. Didn’t know how to tell him that he remembered other things - remembered bits and pieces of meals and drives and games and shared cigarettes on the roof, the weight of Neil’s mouth on his own and the feel of his skin, the sound of his hitches of breath. Because none of that felt real. None of that felt possible, despite the obvious evidence of it sitting curled up in a ball in the chair next to him.

“Go to sleep, junkie,” he said, not totally sure where the nickname came from, and Neil’s eyes snapped back to his. “It’s not all I remember.”

The smile he received in reply was ridiculous, and he ignored it as he settled back in, tugging the blankets tighter around himself. Just as he ignored Neil’s hand coming to rest on the edge of his bed, as it somehow always seemed to. And if he woke up the next morning to find their finger tips slightly interlaced, he didn’t comment on it and neither did Neil.

The atmosphere in the hospital was different that day. It seemed like suddenly everything that had been in slow-motion was at full speed. He got wheeled off for another MRI first thing, and this time the noise-canceling headphones were enough that he didn’t need to vomit afterwards. The lights were brighter and he walked for longer and they even let him have a magazine. Neil disappeared to work out, with a laughing promise to try not to assault any reporters.

Aaron and his girlfriend appeared just as Neil returned bearing a chocolate-filled croissant that he handed to Andrew without ceremony. The girlfriend greeted Neil with a hug and handed him a bag full of stuff, and Andrew understood why Neil had warned him he wasn’t allowed to kill her. Especially when she pecked Neil on the cheek when he took the bag. Andrew glanced at Aaron, who rewarded him with an eye roll.

The girlfriend chattered about New York and the stresses of anatomy lab while Neil showered. Andrew wanted to tune her out but there was little else to hold his attention. Though watching Aaron… Most of what Andrew remembered of Aaron was from before. This was interesting, to say the least.

Then Neil came out of the bathroom and Andrew decided maybe he didn’t hate the girlfriend after all. Not if she’d picked out those clothes. Fuck. He really didn’t know what was wrong with him. Well, besides the whole skull-fracture-traumatic-brain-injury thing. The doctors hadn’t mentioned this as a potential symptom. Then again, given what memories his brain was dredging up, perhaps it was some pre-existing condition. A manifestation of the bipolar, or something. Because want was normal. Want was biological. He understood want, had since juvie. But this was more like need. And need was irrational. Need was dangerous. Need had led to the lines marring his forearms, to him breaking into houses and shops until he had finally been caught, to whatever had been left of his heart being destroyed.

Aaron and the girlfriend were wedged into the chair together. Neil stood near the foot of the bed, listening to the inane conversation as if it were important. Andrew studied the long-healed scars on his face. Abruptly, not caring about whatever nonsense he was interrupting, he asked, “How long ago did that happen?” He gestured to his own face.

The girlfriend made a remonstrative noise but Neil answered easily, “Almost four years ago.” He gave Andrew a questioning look but Andrew just hummed in reply and Neil turned back to the girlfriend and asked a question, setting her off again.

Four years. Four years since Andrew had been nearly torn apart by terror. Four years since he had felt that anguished need that seemed so fresh in his memory. And yet Neil was still here.

*****

Dr. Martin appeared with someone Neil believed to be an intern before Katelyn had petered out, so he didn’t get a chance to ask Andrew about getting his stuff from the stadium. Her arrival essentially shoved Neil off to the side. Andrew’s eyes followed him as found a new spot near the window. Dr. Martin introduced herself to Aaron and Katelyn and reviewed all the medical stuff Neil already had heard. They finished up with this morning’s scans, which showed resolution of the hematoma.

“It’s time to discuss the next steps in Andrew’s care,” Dr. Martin said. Neil tried not to bristle at the way they focused all their attention on Aaron and spoke about Andrew like he wasn’t there. “While he could be ready for discharge as soon as tomorrow, he will need ongoing assistance until he can manage on his own. Now, it’s our understanding he lives alone here in Boston.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, and Neil’s fingers twitched. He didn’t understand this shift in the dynamic. He glanced at Andrew, whose eyes had a faint gleam that could have been amusement or irritation. Likely both.

“Ideally, Andrew should go into a rehabilitation facility for a few weeks while we assess how well he can live on his own.”

“No,” Neil said, and everyone looked at him in surprise. Everyone but Andrew, whose gleam intensified. “He’s not going to some facility to have strangers looking after him.”

“I assure you, it’s a very good facility,” Dr. Martin said.

“No,” Neil said again.

“Neil,” Aaron warned.

“Easthaven was supposed to be a very good facility too, Aaron, in case you’ve forgotten.” Aaron blanched and Andrew’s face went completely blank. Neil wanted to kick himself but he plowed on. “Andrew, I told you before. You can come back to PSU with me if you want. Otherwise, we can find another solution for you to stay here.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Josten,” Dr. Martin said, “you have no input into this.”

The ground dropped from beneath Neil’s feet. “What?”

“You have no legal say. You’re not married and you have no legal domestic partnership. We have been making an exception for you, allowing you to stay here, but this is not your decision.”

“Is it not Andrew’s either?” He turned to Andrew. “Because as far as I can tell they don’t seem to care about your opinion.”

“Mr. Josten.” Dr. Martin’s voice was calm, sympathetic, but firm. “Aaron is Andrew’s legal next of kin. They will decide the next steps together with us. We must ask you to respect this conversation.”

“I can’t believe this.” Neil thought he was going to vomit. He looked between the twins. Aaron’s expression was wary; Andrew’s held just a hint of black anger, and Neil didn’t know who that was directed at. “We have resources in South Carolina. We have Abby and Betsy, and the medical center’s right there. Surely that’s better than staying with people you don’t know.”

“Mr. Josten, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Katelyn stood and put her hand on Neil’s arm. “I shouldn’t be here either,” she said gently. “Come on, Neil. We can wait down the hall.” He looked once more to Andrew, but he made no move to ask him to stay, so Neil let Katelyn guide him away.

Out in the waiting room he couldn’t settle, couldn’t sit. He felt that urge to run that had long been dormant but would never truly die. Katelyn was quiet, for once; she had murmured apologies the whole way down the hall, then fallen silent as soon as she dropped onto one of the couches. It was the one with the threadbare corner, Neil noticed idly. He hooked his hands behind his neck but it wasn’t the same as Andrew’s grip, it held no gravity for him.

“Neil,” Katelyn said gently. “Come and sit.” He shook his head and walked the length of the room, noting the handful of other people scattered over seats. One woman held a string of beads with a cross at the end, her lips moving silently. A man wept over in one corner and Neil wondered in what way his world had just ended. Two older people clutched each other’s hands and stared at the floor. He turned and walked back.

Katelyn joined him when he reached her. “They shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered and there were tears in her eye. Neil wondered why. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come. If we’d known…”

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Neil said.

“Don’t,” Katelyn pleaded. “Don’t go, Andrew will want you here when they’re done.”

Neil gave what might’ve passed for a laugh. “Do you think if Andrew cared he would’ve let them kick me out in the first place?” Katelyn shrugged helplessly. “It’s not the same. He doesn’t remember.”

“I don’t know, Neil. I’ve never understood what motivates him. All I know is whatever he remembers, he looks at you the same way.”

“What way is that?”

“I don’t know…like the world begins with you.” Neil turned away to pace again and she sighed. “Do you have your phone?” He reflexively checked his pockets and nodded when he felt it. “I’ll text when they’re done.” He nodded again and shoved through the door, running before he even reached the stairs.

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #andriel #amnesia #hospital #recovery #fluff and angst #my writing #fanfic #past trauma #aaron minyard #katelyn #betsy dobson

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canaryatlaw · 4 years

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okay, well today was fine overall. Up at 8:45 for court, I was a little concerned about juggling two cases in two courtrooms both set for 9 am, because I was stupid enough to put myself in that position, but things ended up working out, though in the opposite direction that I thought- I thought I could get the just me case done quickly and then go to the one with other parties present, but that one ended up pretty close to the front of the court call, so I told the coordinator at the other room to just stick me in a breakout room and I’d let them know when I’m good to go, so that worked out. I have multiple cases right now (one this morning and one I have up tomorrow) where the other side is filing a domestic relations (divorce, custody, etc.) case, which means the OP case gets consolidated with it, and I can no longer be their lawyer, and it’s been super fucking frustrating because apparently divorces are on the rise right now (can’t imagine why!!) and trying to find clients other legal aid counsel is getting increasingly difficult. the one I have up tomorrow I really did not want to lose (I’ll spare you the details, but it involves a young child and it’s BAD) and I had expressed as much to my boss, and it sounded like our family law department could jump on the case, which would mean I could probably stay on for the OP part of the case, so I sent the client an intake to fill out, but when I passed it on they basically just told me they weren’t taking anything and I just forwarded it to my boss like.....and she was confused about it because apparently they had spoken about keeping some cases going that were extreme, so she’s going to talk to them about it and see if we can work it out, but in the meantime the client should start looking for other potential divorce counsel (from legal aid, as she has no income and is living in a shelter right now), and since the cases are getting consolidated tomorrow it means I have to officially withdraw from the case, and I’m really just fucking mad about it, you guys know how I get revved up with cases involving kids and even though I haven’t been on it very long (probably about a month at this point) I feel very protective of the client being such a vulnerable position and assured her that I may have to tell the court I’m withdrawing, but I will not stop being her lawyer until we get another lawyer on the case, or our family law department is able to accept it. I’m just really irritated about the whole thing because this is not the first time it’s happened with a client I felt really attached to, and just having to give up the case without there being anything I can do about it is really fucking frustrating. And the client is super sweet and speaks some english, but when exchanging emails I’ve been putting them through google translate (she speaks “Amharic”) with the translated version on top and the english underneath it, and that usually helpful enough for her to be able to answer in english. It’s kind of fun, because they don’t use the same numerals we do, so it’s just totally different. but yeah, I have that going on tomorrow and I’m super pissed about it and just feel really bad because the last thing I want to do is to leave this poor woman with no lawyer in such a vulnerable situation and I’m totally committed to making sure that does not happen, even if some of that is not part of a traditional attorney role (as if I give a fuck). but anyway. that case today was fine and short, they’re going to file the DR case soon and hopefully find that client a DR lawyer too. ugh. then there was my other case with the judge who really likes me (hehe) but she’s caught up in this one thing she wants me to do to go to publication that isn’t normal so we got stuck up with that this morning which was frustrating but like I get it, she’s a new judge and I can’t expect her to memorize the entire statute right off the bat, and her intentions are good at least as far as wanting a default order to be enforced and not ignored because of lack of service (though I spoke with my boss after and it didn’t sound like this would even help that. so I have to figure out what to do there. after court I worked on the leftover clinic cases from yesterday, getting everything ready to be filed. Apparently the courthouse is in a somewhat chaotic situation because apparently one of the judges tested positive for covid, and possibly other staff members who worked in screening (meaning they see a LOT of people) as well, so like half of the staff is in quarantine and not at the courthouse, so I understand it’s pretty chaotic there at the moment. my own case did get processed pretty quickly though, it was a pretty strong case so I wasn’t really worried, and the hearing went fine, though at the end the judge asked if we could go back to using the short forms we switched over like last year to the updated ones that everyone else was also supposed to switch over to but hasn’t yet, and I had to awkwardly be like uhh that’s really not something I have any control of but she could speak with my boss I guess? I was running right into a staff meeting that started a few minutes before we finished up, and I did mention the judge’s comment, and apparently since we have a new clerk of court in cook county she’s apparently been pushing to use the new forms when the old clerk was pretty against doing so, so I think the new one is ruffling some feathers about it, but oh well. staff meeting was fine, once we finished I stayed on the line with my boss for our monthly check in which is kind of new and we had to reschedule like 5 times haha. the introductory stuff was kind of awkward and just some stuff that I feel like I didn’t entirely grasp but I think the jist of it is mostly just to ask for clarification if unsure of some things. but after that we spoke about case questions I had, which ended up being really helpful on a lot of cases going forward, so I was glad we had that taken care of. the rest of the afternoon was chill, at some point I was looking at fb and saw that the family that lives in the apartment below me, the dad had posted that his wife was pregnant with their fourth child, and she had gone into labor this morning two months early, and they lost the baby 2 hours after she was born. Obviously this is such a shock and trauma, and the dad had been one of the first people to reach out after I lost my dad, and I really appreciated it, so I messaged him saying how sorry I was and offered to bring them a meal, so I’m going to make them some broccoli mac and cheese (apparently their kids really like broccoli for some reason) for Friday night. He was saying how hard it was to just even get through the day, and I said if I had learned anything over the past year, it’s that God is truly near to the brokenhearted, and that I would be praying for them and pass it along to my family to pray as well. He’s a religious studies of some sort professor at one of the catholic colleges up here, and we’re always liking each other’s facebook posts about religion, which is nice. after that though and when I was finished with work I had to go over to the hospital/med center at 5:30 for two MRIs the neurologist wanted me to get (even though we’re fairly sure it’s not really a physical issue), but at 5 the monsta x airbnb thing went live for tickets but there was like 20 of them for who knows how many fans were trying to get them (like, probably in the thousands), and I refreshed the page as soon as hit 5, but when it loaded a second later it was already sold out, so I don’t even know what to make of that. Oh well. After that I ubered over to the med center and received instructions to get to the right place, which was nice that I didn’t end up getting horribly lost or anything lol. Everything was pretty straightforward, they had a list of things you have to check off, and I had to check off that I have a metal plate in my wrist after breaking that in two places and it needing to be repaired, so I listed that, but it was the only thing. Not long afterwards they brought me back to the actual machine, of course my legs were being super shaky and uncooperative trying to get on the thing and the tech was getting concerned haha and I felt bad but oh well. the procedure was fine, just chilled out and tried to stay still, which I was able to do for the most part. after that I was free to leave, so I ubered back home at like 6:20, with our first small group meeting starting at 6:45, I was concerned I was going to be late if the doctors took too long, so I was glad I made it on time. It was a pretty good session, lots of laughs which was nice but also some very deep talk, going in I wasn’t totally sure if I would like it, but I actually do really like it so I’m excited to continue with that. the group is actually called “Swipe right for Jesus” which I really just think is too funny lol. after the group ended, I watched last week’s episode of Chicago Fire that I had missed as they didn’t have a new episode today, then watched the season premiere of The Resident, which was very enjoyable. once that was done I just switched over to the news for a bit and then Jimmy Kimmel, and decided to turn it off around 11 and start getting ready for bed, and now it’s of course just past 1:30 am because time doesn’t actually exist, but I do really need to get to sleep now, so I’m going to do that. Goodnight my friends. Hope your week is treating you well.

#daily journal #January 2021 #Rachel's lawyer adventures

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bigbangenthusiast · 7 years

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Amy’s birthday is approaching, and I wanted to do a little something to celebrate. This ended up being a little silly. I hope you enjoy.

Amy lay awake staring at the ceiling on the eve of her birthday. She was too excited to sleep, thinking of her annual gift. She twisted her head to the left and peered at her fiancé in their nearly-dark bedroom. He lay on his side facing away from her, so she watched the rest of his body for signs of alertness.

Squinting at him without her glasses on didn’t work, so she gently placed her hand on his ribcage. It rose and fell slowly and steadily. She would probably have to wait until morning. Luckily, her birthday fell on Sunday this year, so they could take all the time they needed making love. What time was it anyway? She carefully rolled over and pawed at her nightstand. Where was her phone?

She peered over her shoulder to be sure she hadn’t woken Sheldon. She was both relieved and disappointed that he still appeared fast asleep. Sighing, she methodically combed the nightstand surface with her fingers. They made contact with her glasses, lotion bottle, Kleenex box, lamp, and the MRI of Sheldon’s brain, one of her most prized possessions. Everything was there except her phone. Had she left it on the coffee table? No matter. It wasn’t that important anyway. She lay back against her pillow and closed her eyes.

Amy awoke to the sound of her name. She blinked and saw Sheldon hovering over her. “What time is it?” She croaked.

“Just after midnight. Happy Birthday,” he murmured in a low, sexy voice.

She sat up against the headband and rubbed her eyes. “Really? It feels more like 3 a.m.”

He consulted his watch then showed it to her. “No, it’s 12:03, and I know it’s right because my watch is…”

“…linked to the atomic clock in Boulder, Colorado. It’s accurate to one tenth of a second,” she finished for him. “I know. I don’t doubt you. It’s just that it felt like a long time for me to fall asleep. It’s hard to believe it’s only two hours since bedtime.”

“Now that we’re both awake, shall we begin with your birthday festivities?”

“Yes! I’m always eager for your gifts.”

He reached under the bed and extracted a gift bag with ‘Happy Birthday’ emblazoned on it in multicolors, surrounded by balloons. He watched as she pulled the red tissue paper from the bag and set it on her nightstand. Amy dug her hand to the bottom of the bag and removed the contents.

She stared at the object and frowned. “My phone? I don’t understand.”

“I added some reminders to your calendar. Open it to January 17.”

She obliged, furrowing her brow. “8 p.m. S+A. What does that mean?”

“S+A stands for Sheldon and Amy,” he explained.

“I kind of figured that, but what exactly happens on January 17?”

He gently peeled her fingers off her phone and set it aside. Taking her hands in his, he gazed into her eyes. “Amy, my gift to you is more frequent sex. Once a year isn’t nearly enough, so I scheduled sessions on the 17th of every month at 8 p.m.”

“Oh, Sheldon!” She threw her arms around him and squeezed.

“And that’s not all. I also scheduled Valentines Day, my birthday, and our anniversary. Plus, I would be open to occasionally sneaking in some extra sessions.”

She kissed him hard. “Thank you!”

“I’m so glad you like it. Now prepare yourself for our first session.” He flipped her onto her back, hovering over her in his red plaid pajamas.

xxx

One month later, Amy and Sheldon sat on their neighbors’ couch, consulting their watches.

“That’s like the tenth time you’ve checked your watches. Are we boring you?” Leonard asked.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just that we need to…” Amy caught her fiancé’s stern look, “leave in a few minutes,” Amy finished lamely.

Penny eyed her friends curiously. “What’s so important on a Wednesday night?”

“That is none of your business,” Sheldon huffed. “Come along, Amy. It’s almost time anyway.”

“Sorry,” Amy called over her shoulder as Sheldon led her out the across the hall.

Penny shut the door behind them. “What was that about?”

Leonard shrugged. “Better not question it. You know how weird Sheldon is. Let’s forget about them and enjoy the quiet.”

Penny sat down and patted the spot next to her on the couch. “I know how we can enjoy the rest of our evening.” She winked at her husband.

Leonard took the proferred seat. He brushed back a lock of his wife’s hair then froze. “What was that?” They cocked their ears toward the door.

Penny wrinkled her nose. “It sounds like an animal in distress.” She stepped into the hall and frowned. “I think it’s coming from Sheldon and Amy’s apartment. I hope they’re not doing some weird experiments with animals. That could explain their odd behavior.” She creeped up to the door and rested her ear on it.

“Penny, that’s eavesdropping. We need to give them their privacy. They could just be watching Animal Planet.”

“Shh… I hear another sound, but it’s too faint to make out.”

Leonard sighed and joined her. He pressed his ear to the door and concentrated. “That’s just Amy giggling. Can we go now?”

“That doesn’t explain the other sounds. I’m going in.”

“We can’t just go in there,” Leonard reasoned, but it was too late. Penny was already pounding on the door.

“Who is it?” Amy’s muffled voice inquired.

“It’s me and Leonard. Can we come in?”

“That’s not a good idea. We’ll see you tomorrow,” the neuroscientist replied.

“What are you doing? We heard some strange sounds. Is everything okay?”

“We’re fine!” Sheldon shouted. “Go away.”

Before Leonard could stop his wife, she ran to their apartment, retrieved the key to 4B, inserted it in the lock, and turned. “Penny!” he hissed, as she quietly entered the apartment.

She surveyed the living room and kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her eyes traveled to the closed bedroom door. Moans emanated from the room punctuated by Sheldon muttering 'vixen’. “Oh, God,” she groaned softly. She quietly slipped out the door then ran to her apartment and slammed the door.

“Penny, what happened? Were they actually experimenting on animals?”

She shook her head in the negative. “They were having sex. Oh, God. I’m a terrible friend.”

He joined her on the couch. “You’re not terrible, just concerned.”

“How could I think my best friend was doing unspeakable things to a living being?” She wailed.

“Well, she kind of is.”

She glared at him. “Not funny, Leonard.”

“Let’s forget about them. Why don’t we watch one of your reality shows to take your mind off it?”

Penny relaxed as they sat back and watched The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Leonard had been extra sweet, preparing snacks and wine. He pulled a blanket over their laps, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The on-screen action was the perfect distraction, and soon the incident was all but forgotten.

“This is really nice. We should do this more often…”

They jumped as a blood curdling scream pierced the relative quiet.

“Amy! Someone broke in! Oh, dear Lord!” Sheldon shrieked.

“Uh oh,” Penny murmured. “I didn’t shut their door.” She crept over to the door and peered out the peephole. The door was flung open, and Sheldon stood by the couch in his bathrobe scanning the room.

“My laptop and Xbox are still here,” he sighed in relief.

“My laptop is here too. Perhaps it wasn’t robbers. It’s possible in our rush to get home, we didn’t close the door properly.”

“I know we did. I heard the click when you turned the deadbolt.”

“I’ll check for signs of a break-in.” Amy tied her robe tighter and stepped into the hall. Her eyes we’re drawn to a key in the lock. She poked her head in the door and noted their keys in the bowl, as they should be. She plucked the key from the lock and closed the door behind her, dangling it in front of her fiancé.

“What’s that?”

“Our spare key.”

“Leonard and Penny!” He grumbled. “Wait, that means they came in after we told them to leave. They heard us! Oh, dear Lord! This is unacceptable! I’m going over there to confront them.”

Amy grabbed his wrist. “Sheldon, wait! It’s late. Let’s confront them in the morning.”

“No. They violated our privacy, so I don’t care how late it is.” He marched across the hall, performing his triple knock much louder than normal and waited.

“Sheldon, they’re probably sleeping. Let’s go to bed and worry about this in the morning,” she begged.

He ignored her request. “Hand me the spare key. I’m going in.”

“Sheldon, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Hand me the key, please.”

She sighed and placed the key in his palm. Penny slid the chain lock in place and backed away from the door. The deadbolt clicked. Sheldon pushed the door open but was met with the resistance of the chain.

“What the hell, Sheldon!” Penny yelled.

“You invaded our home, so I planned to do the same to yours.”

Amy joined her fiancé, peeking through the small opening. “I apologize for Sheldon’s behavior, but to be fair, he was only doing it because you entered our home uninvited. All I want to know is why.”

Penny unlocked the door and faced her neighbors. “I’m sorry, Ames. We heard some strange sounds coming from your apartment and were concerned, especially since you left our place so mysteriously.”

Sheldon and Amy exchanged an embarrassed look. Amy twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “You’ve probably already figured out what we were doing.”

Leonard reddened. “It’s Penny’s fault.”

“Hey!” She glared at her husband. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus.”

“It doesn’t matter who’s to blame. Can we just forget this happened? It was an honest mistake. Sheldon and I will try to keep the noise level down next time.”

“For future reference, please do not disturb us after 8 p.m. on the 17th of each month, Valentine’s Day…”

Leonard cleared his throat. “How about if we just agree not to use our spare keys unless there’s an actual emergency or if we’re apartment sitting.”

“Deal!” The girls agreed.

Amy gave Sheldon a look. “Deal,” he grumbled.

The friends shook on it then returned to their respective homes.

“Who knew my gift to you would cause such a ruckus,” Sheldon muttered, as they disrobed and slipped under the covers.

“At least they can’t tease us about our sex life anymore.”

“You know, the schedule doesn’t specify how many times we can engage in love making per date. It’s still January 17th.”

“I like how you think, Dr. Cooper,” she purred. “Do you think you can keep the noise to a minimum?”

“I downloaded an app that can alert you if the decibel level gets above what you set it to. I’ve used it in my office to prove my point to President Siebert when he didn’t believe how loud the geology lab gets when they run their confounded sieve shakers. Perhaps we can use it to experiment here.”

“You’re sexy when you talk science,” she growled. “Perhaps we’ll need to increase the frequency of our sessions until we get the desired effect.”

He set up the app then scooted closer to her. “I agree. We’ll need sufficient data.”

She kissed him hard, their lips making a loud pop when they separated. Sheldon’s phone beeped, and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles. “I think we can agree that we need to increase the decibel level it can handle.”

“Agreed.” He increased the setting then turned to her. “You know, for this experiment to work properly, we’ll need to test the highest decibel level we can get away with before Leonard and Penny can hear us. I suggest starting on the high end.”

“Sheldon!”

“What? It’s only logical.”

“But we promised…”

“We said we’d keep the noise level down. We didn’t specify how much.”

Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her back, covering her naked body with kisses.

#tbbt #shamy #shamy fanfic #birthday #amy farrah fowler

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