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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

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do you have any theories about the india trip ?? personally, im not sure what to think about it, but i’d love to hear your thoughts !!

(Sorry its taken me so long to answer this - it just got lost in my drafts cause im an idiot lmao ��‍♀️)

Im not entirely certain on what I believe happened in India, if in fact anything did happen at all - but more on that later! I guess though that these are the main theories (though if you have any differing opinions/theories, feel free to discuss them!):

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

2. John wanted to further their relationship, and Paul wanted to maintain the ‘friends with benefits’ situation they already had

3. Nothing significant happened between the two (yet something still changed in John)

I’ll try to discuss which theories I find the most convincing, compelling and substantiated - as well as offering my own opinions and hypothesis’s ^^ (discussion bellow the cut)

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

The theory I would say im most drawn to - not the theory that im necessarily most convinced by though - is that John made a move on Paul, after a few years of pining for him, and was subsequently rejected. Its a theory that I tend to be compelled by, but I have to admit that its one I struggle to justify entirely. The problem with this theory, for me, is that this is a conclusion ive drawn based mostly off of what their relationship appeared to look like after India. It seems as though something must have happened between them to have ruptured their relationship as profoundly as it did - and because they were on relatively good terms before India*, combined with certain inferences we could draw from comments John made regarding his feelings towards Paul and their relationship, it feels as though it’s possible that he made an advance on Paul, which was rejected and thus caused the ultimate disintegration of the Lennon/McCartney relationship.

(*I mean, their relationship was always complicated and difficult - but it seems that it was okay-ish prior to India, and then just inexplicably plummeted after the trip)

But nobody (as far as im aware) has confirmed, or even really alluded to, this advancement or rejection ever having happened. And the lack of evidence substantiating the claim is a major draw back for me!

However, I do also feel as though nobody’s really come out about anything that happened in India - all ive heard is that they meditated, wrote songs, John and Cyn fought, and Ringo ate baked beans. But like, more must have happened on the trip, surely? Im not saying the absence of information regarding the trip is proof that there was a big “lovers quarrel” between John and Paul, and that everyone involved in that trip is now just sworn to secrecy or something - but like, id just like to see a biographer really investigate the holiday, and try to conclude what events might have occurred during the trip, because as of right now, with the information we have, it seems to have been, bizarrely, both a lacklustre and uneventful, yet still hugely impactful event. If the narrative of the “India trip” were to be shifted in the future in light of new information, the same way the narrative of “Let It Be/Get Back” is being changed, I wouldn’t be surprised!

2. John wanted more, but Paul didn’t

Another popular theory is that John and Paul were engaged in something of a physical affair, but in India John proposed (or perhaps demanded even) that they take their relationship further, and Paul just wasn’t compelled to do so.

Beliefs vary regarding this, based on how far you personally think their relationship went: some might say they only ever did a little drunken experimenting with one another, and that it was just a fun fling until John suggested they take it further. Others might argue that they were in fact in a committed relationship, and John wanted to go public with it - or at the very least, demanded exclusivity between him and Paul.

In entertaining this theory, im most compelled to believe that John and Paul were engaged in occasional “flings”, and perhaps by ‘68 were even acknowledging that there was some deeper and more sincere between them - but ultimately, I don’t think Paul would have ever been inclined to fully commit to John, because I think he always wanted children and a family. In addition to this, though its clear John and Paul were passionate about one another, it isn’t clear how compatible they were in the long term - and with Paul being the more grounded of the too, I suspect he would have recognised this incompatibility, which John (the idealist) might not have.

Though I admit that John could certainly be unrealistic and irrational, im not convinced that he suggested to Paul they go public with their relationship, because I think John still had a fairly strong sense of his place in popular culture, and would have still been able to recognise that if they were to “come out”, it would probably deeply and irreparably damage both their careers - as well as George and Ringo’s too - at least amongst the general public. They’d still have some ardent fans, but their following overall would have become far more niche, and the “beatlemania” would’ve worn off swiftly. Im not sure if either of them would’ve been willing to take that heat in ‘68, especially not Paul, who as I mentioned earlier, I think might have recognised the futility and incompatibility inherent in their relationship.

Then again though, John was always a little “cocky”* when it came to his sexuality - I think if an interviewer were to genuinely have enquired into his sexuality, straight up asking him “Are you bi? Gay?” I get the sense that he would have told us! Sure he’d probably have dressed the response up with a dozen quick quips and jokes, but ultimately, I think he would have given a sincere response. And so, perhaps he did feel he had the confidence, at least in India, to actually “come out”, but if Paul wasn’t willing to make this official with him, perhaps this confidence dissipated.

(*No pun intended you pervs🤦‍♂️)

Another thing to note about India is that they’d have been relatively secluded, as well as off the drugs/drinks for the most part - and this would have forced them to really reflect upon their relationship. Perhaps John saw that he wasn’t contented with Cynthia, and recognised his desire for more from Paul - and so in such a raw state of mind, I can see how he’d become so shattered if Paul were to have rejected him (that statement could relate both to the first and second theory, I feel). Perhaps John made an advance upon Paul whilst they were both sober for the first time, and that changed their relationship somehow? Just thinking out loud here!

But again, this theory overall has the same problem as the first in that, though it appears to make sense, it still lacks proof; it ultimately isn’t a substantiated claim.

3. Nothing happened between J&P, but something changed

This is probably the theory that everybody is least interested in hearing, but I still think its a pretty valid one, albeit the least dramatic (In my opinion though its still a really interesting perspective to explore though!).

Its possible that nothing of particular significance happened in India, but something still shifted in John, causing him to vilify and reject Paul. The issue with this though, is that it begs the question: why did John undergo such a significant change in India then?

Id argue that perhaps John was making very subtle and slight moves towards Paul, that Paul either ignored or didn't pick up on. Id assume that perhaps John had been hinting at this desire for awhile now, and maybe he got it into his head that in India, where him and Paul would have a lot of time to be alone and intimate, his feelings would finally be reciprocated. But then, Paul never picked up on these hints, and never made any advancements - and this broke something within John. It would fit neatly within the Yoko narrative, because it offers reasoning to the abrupt but intense attachment John formed towards her almost immediately after India - as well as explaining the sudden vilification of Paul. But I suppose that the first two theories also fit pretty neatly within the Yoko narrative, because they all relate to the same basic concept that John wanted more from Paul, and Paul didn’t - and so he tried to replace him with Yoko.

I suppose though, that the this theory overall could also be countered by making the argument that Paul also began to spiral after India, and so some occurrence presumably must have happened to Paul too. I wonder though if its possible that maybe Pauls spiralling was kind of a result of Johns? I get the sense though that Paul would need a change in his life to cause his mental health to seriously deteriorate, but I don’t feel like the same is necessarily true for John - I think John is sort of the type to spiral, irregardless of whether his life undergoes a significant change or not, because I think John was the force driving a lot of the drama and troubles throughout his lifetime. So if Johns mental well-being started seriously deteriorating, I can see this being a cause of panic and anxiety for Paul.

But something that further inclines me to believe that an actual event occurred between John and Paul is this extract from Geoff Emmericks memoir (x)(id recommend reading the entire extract, its interesting!):

‘I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed.”’

It just really feels as though there was some confrontation between John and Paul that had to have happened to perpetuate the miscommunication later seen between them. Like if there hadn’t been some kind of confrontation, then I can’t really understand why Paul would be reluctant to speak about India, or harbour any regrets or dismay regarding the journey. Perhaps you could drill it down to the betrayal they appeared to have felt by Maharishi allegedly hitting on girls - but I feel like this was a “betrayal” mostly felt by John, I never really got the sense that Paul was deeply effected by it.

But yeah - those are the main theories I think.

Overall, I think that the third theory is probably the most substantiated claim, but I think it leaves a lot to desired. It just doesn’t feel like it totally fits together, as though theres more to the story - but I guess relationships and peoples psyches aren’t puzzles, and so not everything is always going to piece together perfectly; but I dunno.

Like I said though, the theory im most compelled by is the first. I acknowledge that it lacks evidence, but it just seems to make a lot of sense to me! But really, who knows what the hell happened in India?

If anyone else has an opinion on all this, or wants to expand upon or even suggest a new theory, feel free to! I always like hearing from you guys!

#mclennon #asks #@cinnamontoastandtears #thanks for the ask!#india #what the fuck happened in india #maharishi #pauls sexuality #discussion

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rat-bastard-fics · 3 years

Text

Playing Games

PART II

Paul Lahote X OC

Eleanor had been gone from La Push for a few years but upon her return home, she’s excited to see her old friend Paul again.

Word Count: ~670

Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII.

MASTERLIST

Paul

Pack.

Why would she say pack?

Does she know?

I hold the lollipop stick and suck on the flavor that had so recently been in her mouth.

Cherry.

I remember her popping the sucker out of her mouth that final time. The way it dragged down her lip just a little, tinted that pink skin red. Had I not been so taken by her word choice, I would have had to focus hard on my restraint in order not to kiss her right then and there.

To kiss her.

God how I wanted to kiss her. The small gasp that escaped her when I steadied myself. How she broke eye contact to peek at my hand on her leg. How badly I wish I could have read her mind right then and there. How badly I wish our long-time dynamic could have been more physical just so I might know arc of her back, the taste of her skin, the feeling of her nails--

Her nails

I want her to press them against my scalp forever. I would be okay with that being the only touch I ever feel again as long as it’s coming from her.

I feel my pants tighten just the tiniest bit and clear my throat, refocusing on the present. I could think of her all day and still not know why she chose to say pack.

I’m in the house now. I hardly remember walking here. Pack. I am pacing back and forth enough that I hardly notice the attention I’ve drawn from the guys--from the pack.

“Paul?” Jared’s voice is distant but I can somewhat hear his concern and confusion.

“Got a sweet tooth?” Embry comments and I pause, ready to defend Elle. I then realize he means the sucker in my mouth. Her sucker. Suddenly Sam chuckles under his breath and my eyes snap to him.

“Paul imprinted.” The room erupts in comments.

“Just now?”

“Oh I remember her!”

“What’s her name? Kelly? Nell? J-”

“It’s Eleanor. Elle.” I say it without thinking. I realize now that I love her name. I love the way my tongue flicks in my mouth when I say it. She used to go by Ella but then Bella Swan moved in with Charlie and she took up even a portion of conversation in La Push. Elle was being compared, then, to a girl she’d never met simply because their names rhymed. She didn’t dislike Bella at all, she just wanted her own identity.

I don’t remember remembering her name in such precision until now.

“What was it like? Imprinting?” It’s Seth. Imprinting hardly matters to me now. It’s simply something that happened. I would die for her and that’s a fact, but I no longer remember not feeling so strongly for her.

“She said Pack.” The strangest aspect of the afternoon came to mind. Nobody seems to understand what I’m saying and so I elaborate, now pulling the cleaned sucker stick from my mouth and tossing it in the trash can. “She referred to you guys as my pack.” There’s a discomfort throughout the room.

“Maybe it was a coincidence. She might not have meant anything by it.” Quil’s voice is passive but anyone looking at him can see the gears turning in his head.

“Maybe it’s a good thing if she knows already. Less for you to explain!” Seth’s eyes are smiling like always.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter regardless.” Sam. “If she knows, nobody will believe her. If she doesn’t, we’re exactly where we’d expect.”

I feel a sharp anger in me at Sam suggesting she ever not be believed--that she ever be considered crazy or anything akin. But his tone has edged on his alpha voice, the baseline command being ‘get over it.’

There’s a few minutes of silence before the room erupts again in unrelated conversation. I take a moment to linger on the word before sitting down. My mind swaps focus now--when will I see her again?

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morphituu · 5 years

Text

Bell Peppers Ch. 10

“Stay”

Archive of Our Own: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

tumblr: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

The silence was at first welcome.

The lack of voices asking to recite his name, telling him where they would poke and stitch next.

The soft hissing of the IV pump where he could feel the lead of a catheter taped in the back of his hand, the soft beeping of the pressure cuff around his arm.

He started to recognize where all the pain was coming from. His bandaged hand was sore, but the throbbing in his skull challenged the misery of his knee he felt propped up on pillows, the chill of an ice pack beneath.

The shades were drawn, and he was thankful when he started to open his eyes-

Fuck, the brow above his left eye stung something fierce. When his hand rose to touch the stitches there and on his cheek, a small pump fell from his grasp.

The resonating throb in his ribs was great when he’d take in the sterile smells surrounding, as was the sensitivity in his stomach that couldn’t tighten without great agony.

The insides of his cheeks were raw.

There was no spot on him without pain he could concentrate on without another part demanding his attention.

Everything was hurt, and weak, yet he could recall everything.

That first time jolting awake, and the intimidating bustling of faces and hands around him, and lights flashing in his eyes as they triaged him. That’s what felt like forever- the waiting to be put under, or given something to feel less misery. He remembered barely being able to talk, and slurring for relief, sometimes grasping weakly at hands that touched something tender.

Fuck, he’d even cried, and begged to be left alone. All of which was probably completely indiscernible to the people helping him.

It wasn’t until after he was gowned and stabilized that they gave him something that heavied his eyes instantly, and let him float between consciousness and peace as he laid in the whirring machine of the MRI. Between then and when he got a room, it was quiet. Maybe the occasional of other nurses and doctors chatting through the hallways when he was wheeled around, but nothing louder than a sobbing prayer he’d heard someone reciting.

Quiet, and calm, even when nurses came in to check on him.

But he always took a few moments to acclimate, and remember, that he was viciously attacked in front of his own home, left alone all night. Recalling his attempts at calling out to anyone, but choking on spit and blood, and shivering in the cold.

He stopped moving his legs between the cool sheets; even that was too much.

Orcs don’t belong with humans.

Callie.

He struggled to look around for anything of his, but saw nothing behind the blurred sight of his one eye. Everything protested when he attempted sitting up. He stifled loud cries as pain spasmed through his form.

Callie. Please let her be okay.

He licked his dry lips, feeling the gash across the top, and closed his eyes to hide from the images that flashed before them.

With his head rested back on the pillows more comfortably, he pressed the button of the pump in his fist, the pain lessening ever so slightly.

↠

She held the heel of her palms against her temples, the onslaught of images brandishing her mind. Her cheeks were misty from tears, listening to Ward explain what they thought had happened, and how he’d found Nick that morning. That when he’d last seen him being taken away, he was still unresponsive.

How-

Why-

What if he’s…

She hid her face, her eyes pinching shut. No. You can’t think that way. Stop it.

“He was there all night?” she choked, wiping her face inattentively.

“We think. Blood on 'n around him was dried and some of the cuts on him were scabbing,” Ward answered, turning onto the winding lane that lead to the hospital.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered.

The cruiser silenced as it pulled before the entrance.

“This is his,” Ward spoke, handing her Nick’s phone and keys. She fought the tremble in her chin and lip as she looked at the blood on the screen, and the messy smears over the print reader.

He’d tried to call for help.

“Call and tell me if he’s okay,” Ward also said. The worried furrow of his brow gave away his fear, even if his voice was certain and steady. She nodded, wiping her eyes again before exiting the cruiser.

Her knees betrayed her sure footing, but she was infinitely horrified to walk in and be told he’d passed. It took her too long to find the front desk which was right in the middle of the vast room, but it was because she was looking for him right away.

The last thing I said to him was leave.

She banged her knee against the front desk once there, her hands unsure of where to rest.

“I’m looking for Jakoby? Nick- Officer Nick Jakoby,” she stammered, clearing her throat, pushing her hair from her clammy cheeks.

The receptionist scanned her computer, squinting. Callie’s leg started bouncing, watching the younger woman with wide eyes.

“Jakoby?” the woman asked.

“Nick Jakoby,”

“Hmm, when was he admitted?”

“This morning I don’t know what time,” Callie rushed, starting to tremble.

I told him to get the fuck out.

She still squinted at the screen. It took all her control to not spin the monitor and look herself.

I should’ve called him, I should’ve just fucking called him.

“J- A- C?”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me-

“J- A- K,” Callie barked. Any tighter, and her hands could’ve snapped Nick’s phone in her grasp.

“Ahh, there he is,” the woman smiled, and Callie exhaled, a few shades lighter and sweat lining her brow. “He’s in the neuro wing under observation. Fourth floor, room 407, and you need to sign in for a visitor sticker.” the woman explained, handing Callie the clipboard as they exchanged for her ID.

Her handwriting was worse than usual; her hands shook uncontrollably.

Every floor higher became quieter in the elevator. She stayed at the back, watching people file in and out until she made it to the fourth floor, checking her sides for room numbers before walking down the marble floor.

She wasn’t ready to see how he looked.

‘Half his face was cut up and open, ‘nd there was other spots all over him.’

It was too silent, and on almost all of the doors she passed, there were signs reminding visitors to remain quiet for patients in healing.

His room was just around the curve of a hallway. Why couldn’t she pull her eyes from the tag spelling his name beside the door?

She had to turn away, moving her hair back from her face and steadying her hiccuping breaths. Her legs did not feel like her own in their unsteady gait, and even though her entire body felt a wrong turn away from fainting, she turned back, and opened the door.

Nick expected another nurse, so he kept his eyes closed, figuring if he could pretend to be asleep they’d leave him be.

But then, familiarity bloomed around him. Warm, spiced vanilla that made his nostrils flare and skin erupt with shivers.

That’s my mate.

He would know this in a room full of people that were her exact copy.

Even with… that haircut he could finally see once the film had been blinked from his vision, he’d know that was her. Eyes wide and glossy, supple mouth agape in horror, and knuckles white from gripping her purse tightly in front of herself.

It was a powerful, complex swarm of emotions and thoughts, and memories. But even when his heart reaffirmed that she had left him, all he could think was, there’s my girl.

“Daryl- Daryl came to get me he told me what happened,” she took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I can leave if you want,” she hiccupped, a palm over her mouth.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d envisioned, but it was also worse than she expected.

“I-” he tried, but his throat and tongue scraped like sandpaper. He coughed viciously, curling inwards around the agony of his protesting body every time he jerked forward.

Callie was at his side, inclining his bed and pouring him water when he finally calmed.

His hand overlapped hers when he held the cup, both of their hands trembling.

“I was worried about you,” he managed, his voice courser than normal. Her face scrunched.

“What?” She sat beside him. The closer she came, the more she saw. Gouges, stitches, bruises.

“The people that attacked me, the things they said- I thought they’d go after you but I’m glad they didn’t,” he said slowly, swallowing often. She gave him more water, looking at him silently. “Y’know,” he winced when he adjusted his back against the bed. “I thought it was your cousins at first,” he teased, the smallest grin tugging the corner of his mouth. Callie shook her head, a sad smile spreading across her face.

The cold sheets didn’t bother him so much suddenly. Her small, warm palms that could never cover his wide hands were such a soothing sensation as she caressed, stilling his fingers that plucked at the bedding.

“What happened, Nick?”

That question clearly tormented her as severely as him, but he could only shake his head. “Someone got tired of me,” he rasped.

Her face scrunched in torment, and his heart was breaking all over again.

Why like this?

“Your hair is gone,” he cleared his throat, wanting to talk about anything else.

When she scoffed, he grinned, sorely, the cuts on his lips stinging.

“I hate it,” she sniffled, looking down at his hand she was running her thumbs over.

Nick blew air, and she looked back at him. “You look really pretty,”

They both searched one another's eyes, desperate for something to make sense of this situation. There they were, before each other again, profoundly changed, yet he still could recognize the deep compassion in those balmy eyes. The memory he’d fought to forget, but the one that would loop in his mind endlessly was her crying, screaming for him to leave. Yet here she was, again, always.

“What can I do?” she asked softly.

“Stay with me a little while?” he tried to sound leveled, but the underlying desperation in his voice was obvious. Please don’t leave me alone.

She nodded, kissing his knuckles, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “Always, amore. Always.”

Dread left him in the wake of her words. Until then, he hadn’t been aware to the fear that settled around him like a fog, lying in wait for his attackers to finish what they'd started.

But his girl; the woman who in all senses was no longer his, but he could still pick up the slightest traces of himself on from just that arm's length, was calming his fluttering heart. With Callie here, she was the hand he wanted to hold in safety, and comfort. A sleepy contentedness pulled over him like the warm wash of a shower on a cold day, and his eyes started to heavy.

She didn’t jostle him when he started to drift off. Glimpses over him made it easy to put together how uncomfortable he must’ve been. The swelling and bruises, and cuts on his face were one thing, but how did the rest of him look?

“Who did this to you, baby?” she whispered. She traced his arm, looking at the other hand that was splinted and wrapped, following down to his knee that was twice it’s normal size. Callie exhaled.

With another kiss on his hand, she stood to grab her bag.

Outside his room, she breathed. Deep ones that should’ve calmed her fearfulness, but it wouldn’t be so simple. She was left with more questions than answers, and realizations she didn’t think she’d ever be admitting to.

Nick had been right. It could always get worse, he’d told her so many times. Someone would eventually act on their hate, and they did.

Callie scoffed, finding Ward’s name in her phone. She’d never tell Nick that. She could just see that little smirk, and the way his brows would raise as he’d stare at her, waiting for an apology, even in his damaged state.

“Hello?” he picked up quickly, and she blinked out of her daze.

“Hey- hi, it’s me. He’s okay,”

Daryl contained the audible sigh of relief, but still held a hand over his heart, thankful this hadn’t been the call reporting his partners demise. Hidden behind his cruiser, he leaned a hand onto his knee, suddenly conscious to how clutched he’d been for Nick’s well being.

“He’s really banged up, but he’s talking and can kind of sit up,” she explained. “I don’t know how long he’s going to be here though, he fell back asleep before we could really get into details,”

“It’s gonna take time. He looked…” Ward swallowed. “It was fucked up. Who ever did that is fucked in the head,”

“Is there any leads, or… clues yet? I don’t know how this works outside of TV,” she asked.

“Haven’t heard back yet, but I’ll tell you what happens. I’m sure his stubborn ass is gonna wanna figure it out himself once he’s able,”

Callie scoffed, but then went to kneading her bottom lip. “Nick is strong, Daryl. It had to be more than one person,”

Ward sighed. “I know, which makes it trickier,”

She wiped fresh tears from her eyes, pulling the phone away from her cheek to sniffle and cough. “Keep me updated about it please and I’ll tell Nick to call when he can, yeah?” she asked.

“For sure. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

The call ended, but then there was the other matter to tend to. She’d left work abruptly, and ignored a called from her uncle on her way to the hospital. Rolling her head back and adjusting her shoulders didn’t help the edginess of her body when thinking of dealing with it.

She leaned away from the phone at first, waving it in her hands before only leaning her head towards it’s screen as it rang. To her dismay, he also answered quickly.

“Calista? Calista are you there- where did you go?”

“There was an emergency Tio-”

“With who? Your mother? Who was it?” She didn’t think he’d be sent into a blind panic by her abrupt departure.

“No, for a friend. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything but I had to go,”

Though it was silent, she could almost hear the pieces fitting together in his head. He hadn’t been oblivious to Callie’s demeanor in the passing weeks, and the sudden absence of her cop boyfriend who no longer stopped by.

“So you’ll be coming back later to finish your shift?” he asked, flatly.

She looked at her feet. “I need some time off,”

A pause, and she wished she would have texted instead. “I can give you the rest of the day,”

Callie sighed, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I need more than that. He’s in really bad shape,”

“Let his family do it. I don’t have the money for a paid vacation,”

“This is nothing close to a vacation,”

“Either way, I can’t do it,” he replied. She only had fleeting seconds to make this decision, but where her mind landed was still uncertain.

“Than I guess today was my last day,” she cleared her throat, her head rested back against the wall, staring angrily at a dull painting across the hall. Her uncle exhaled heavily.

“This is a mistake, Callie. Let someone else take care of him. You’re not his girlfriend anymore,”

That's irrelevant, but she knew if she said it, it wouldn’t make any difference. He’d hear it, but would believe what was already assumed. This was about being there for him, when the world finally managed to beat him into the ground.

“I’ll pick up my last paycheck later.” she finished with, fumbling to end the call when she heard him asking something else.

It had only been a little under an hour since the day plunged into hell. Now she was jobless. Even though she’d started the process of applying to other places a while ago, she didn’t want it left messy like this. Word would spread. Her family would find out, and they would eventually call.

It might’ve been silly to do so, but she silenced her phone until she knew she could answer their questions; that this wasn’t about being in love.

But if not, then what else?

Loyalty? Because they were friends? ‘Friends’ who hadn’t spoken in weeks, and stopped talking over a blistering fight-

Callie shook away the intrusive thoughts.

She had now what she was left with, and that’s where she would start.

↠

Did she get enough? Maybe too much? She had no idea how long he was going to be here, but knew- hoped his insatiable appetite would kick in eventually.

Callie looked down at the two bags of snacks she’d filled from the cafeteria, all of it things that he liked, but she wasn’t so sure about the few bottles of green tea Nakeds she’d chosen. With her eyes on the bottle, observing the finer print, she didn’t see the doctor at the foot of Nick’s bed until she was in the room.

“Oh,” she squeaked, looking at Nick who appeared to have just woken up. “Sorry- I’ll wait outside,”

“No, c’mere,” Nick grumbled groggily, motioning her over.

“Are you sure?” she asked lowly, placing the bags down before moving to his side.

“Afternoon,” the middle-aged woman said, grinning at Callie as she stood by Nick. “I was just formally introducing myself to Mr. Jakoby here. We didn’t really get a chance to meet when you first came in, but I was the Attending that triaged you this morning when you came in. I’m Margaret Voelker,”

“Were you the one that kept stabbing my hands with sharp stuff?” Nick croaked, and his doctor chuckled.

“Could’ve been in a coma, had to make sure,” she smiled. Nick ‘hmphed’, shifting his shoulders.

“Good that you’re up and talking already, and you passed the assessment with flying colors,”

“Yeah and now I have spots in my one good eye,”

Callie flicked his arm gently, scowling when he looked up at her.

“The vision in the other one should get better once the swelling has gone down, so tough. How’s your pain?” she asked, moving to flip over a page of his chart on the bedside table after she’d pulled her thick framed glasses from the breast pocket of her scrubs.

“Could be a 3 if you gave me something like morphine,” he mumbled. Callie’s brow furrowed; where was this temperamental side coming from?

Margaret waved her finger. “Uh-uh, Orcs burn it off too fast, that’s why there’s such an issue with addiction amongst them,” she said without skipping a beat, skimming the notes. “Since you’re a cop I figured you would’ve known that,” she added, eyeing him from over her glasses.

Nick chuffed, but winced. Too hard on the ribs.

“Calm down,” Callie whispered, rubbing his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s a symptom of the concussion he has. Keep those shades closed cause apparently he has a sensitivity to light he didn’t bother telling me when I looked at his pupils,”

“What should I look out for if it gets worse?” Callie asked.

“Well if he keeps his mouth shut about how he’s feeling I can’t really answer that, now can I?” Margaret sighed, crossing her arms after placing the papers down. Nick eyed her angrily, ready to sleep again. He didn’t want to be poked or questioned anymore.

“Nick,” Callie intoned, and he looked at her. The desperation- no, concern in her eyes evened him, and silenced the snappy comeback he almost lashed out. Even he didn’t understand the ire he felt.

“Nauseous and a stupid ringing in my ears,” he mumbled, still looking at Callie.

“Scale of 1 to 10?”

Nick looked back over to his doctor. “Like an 8,”

“We can give you something for that cause you gotta start eating. Mouth all chewed up?”

He nodded.

“Soft foods then. No junk. Now for the rest of you- what hurts the most?”

“This and the knee,” he pointed to his swollen eye socket before his leg, and tensed when Margaret pumped the wall dispenser of hand sanitizer into her palms and slipped on gloves to examine him.

“X-rays didn’t show any breaks, but your kneecap did get shoved around a lot, aggravated the connective tissue,” she explained, bending his leg despite his loud protests and sharp snarls. Callie grabbed his hand, her jaw dropping and her face scrunching when he squeezed it with wraithlike power.

He was panting when she stuck the ice under his knee again, propping it higher than before.

“I’m not gonna look at that cause I already know it’s a hairline fracture,” she said, pointing to his eye. Callie followed her finger, to the swollen, stitched skin across his brow. There was also the two gashes under his eye and top lip, but they must’ve just been superficial, despite looking like he’d been downright stabbed.

“That bad?” Nick mumbled, and she nodded, massaging her sore hand.

“What about his hand?” Callie asked.

“Do I have permission to speak to her about your treatment?” Margaret asked, and Nick nodded.

“Okay. His middle and ring fingers were dislocated and snapped backwards, so it’ll be a few weeks before that comes off, but depending on how much damage there is, it could take up to six months for normal functionality to return,”

“Good thing it’s your left hand,” Callie commented.

“Other than that, you have some bad bruising on your ribs I need to look at and a whole lot of stitches everywhere you can’t get wet, so no showers. Let’s get you up,” she told him, shifting the bed rails down.

“First no morphine now I can’t even take a shower?” he grumbled.

“Not even with Aqua Guards?” Callie asked, grabbing behind his elbow as he did hers to help him sit up slowly.

“Those things are completely untrustworthy- arm up,” Margaret answered, adjusting her glasses before leaning down to observe the deep purple and green of the bruising all over his ribs and stomach after moving his gown aside. Square bandaging covered the various spots he had stitches. Just how hard did someone have to be bludgeoned to cut skin through clothes?

Callie watched in masked horror, wondering if it spread across his back as well, but didn’t move from holding his arm above his head, even when his breathing became labored. His solid chest and stomach trembled, and clenched, low whimpers slipping past his lips.

“Almost done,”

He flinched every time she poked, and sweat started to line his forehead. When Nick started to lean away from her evaluation, Callie held him around the shoulders, using her front to block him. What she would do to allow herself to lean down and hold him when he hid his face against her, letting louder whines to come forth.

“Are you hungry?” she hoped to distract him, rubbing his back. He nodded, slowly.

“I found some greek yogurt downstairs, and those dried mango pieces you like,”

Nick looked at her weakly when he could finally drop his arm and lean back again, and wiggled into his bed as they helped prop him up.

“Yogurt with m&m’s?” he asked, and Callie nodded. “What kind?”

“The mini ones,” she grinned. He held her fingers loosely, just a second before running his hand down his face.

“So, overall you’re looking…” Margaret weighed her hands. “Decent. Orcs can withstand a hellova lot more, but you still took quite the beating, my friend. You’ll need to stay a day or two longer depending on how your concussion settles and the blood in your gut does, but I’d say about a 6 week time frame is what you’re looking at before you start feeling up to work again,” Margaret explained, scratching her tight, dark curls that were tied into a messy bun atop her head.

“Can I get that in writing for work?” Nick asked, and she nodded. “Better pain meds?”

She inhaled, thinking it over. “We can try dilaudid, but the minute you start asking for double doses you’re out of here,” she explained. He nodded, finally compliant if it meant a moment without discomfort.

“Now, I’m gonna have someone come by later and talk to you about in-home nurses, cause you’re not gonna be able to walk around on that knee or move too much with your ribs like that,” she told him, writing it down on the little notepad she pulled out of her thigh pocket.

“Can I respectfully decline that?” he asked, absolutely disliking of the idea of a stranger following him around at home.

“Unless you have family you can stay with while you recover?”

Callie bit her inner lip. This could end badly.

“He has me,” she declared, and Nick looked at her, his brows furrowing.

Margaret looked at her. “He at least needs three of those weeks covered,”

“I can do it. I know how to handle his stubborn mood swings,” she grinned, earning a flat look from Nick, but Callie shrugged. “It’s either me or a nurse,”

He exhaled, nodding.

“Yeah I’d say you have that under control. Alright, I’ll be checking in now and again to see how you’re doing. Don’t try and wander around. Harass the nurses if you need. Nice meeting you, Officer.” Margaret grinned, patting his shoulder before waving to Callie as she left.

“Callie,” he said, waiting until he heard the door latch. She was pulling his blankets back up, then moving to pull his food from the bags.

“Callie,” he said again, but she looked at him now, her short waves framing her calm expression. “You don’t have to do this,”

When she lifted his arm and rested in her lap so she could sit on the mattress beside him, he instinctively stroked her thigh with his thumb, but caught himself, and stopped.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head.

“Then I’m gonna take care of you. I know we… we’re split, but that doesn’t matter. You need help, and I really do know how to handle you when you’re being stubborn,” she told him. Everything about the way she looked was decisive. There was no room for argument, but he didn’t want to say anything, really. Hearing her say ‘split’... still hurt. Too much right now.

“Plus, what were you going to eat if you can’t get up and move around by yourself?”

“I’d crawl to my backyard and eat the bell peppers and onions,”

She snorted, finally smiling as he did. “Yogurt?” she asked.

“Yogurt.”

She prepared the little cup and spoon for him, but told him she refused to feed him if he even thought about asking, and remembered to dump a handful of mini m&m’s into it. He chewed slowly, more of squishing it again the roof of his mouth with his tongue than anything as he watched her move around, organizing the snacks on the bedside table.

“What about work?” he asked.

“I can get some time off- that gonna fill you up or you want another one?” she asked, and he nodded.

“You only have to take like a week, I don’t need three-” but she stopped him, shoving the next yogurt cup in his face as he’d finished the first one already.

“Four weeks and I’ll leave you alone,”

He frowned. “I don’t- you can stay, don’t… nevermind,” he mumbled, staring at the yogurt.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought cause like…” she faltered, her eyes fluttering around before landing on her hands that folded before her. “You didn’t call,” she sighed, and he looked up at her.

“Neither did you,”

They both looked away, worried about where that conversation would lead. It was abrupt to bring forth such a discussion, and neither of them were ready in any sense to pick it apart.

“Six weeks?” he asked then. Callie held back a wide smile, and nodded, dumping more m&m’s into his cup.

“Six weeks.” she affirmed, and caught the little smirk he gave her before she turned away.

“You’ve been okay?” he asked. “I mean how you’ve been,” he corrected.

“Um…” she exhaled before sitting beside him again, thinking.

“You’ve made decisions,” he toyed, flicking his finger between the ends of her hair.

“Bad decision,” she smoothed her hands down her head. “Just working, though,” I’ve been sad again. Do you wanna hear how I don’t sleep in my bed anymore? “You?”

He shrugged, stirring the yogurt that would be done in another bite. “Working,” he mumbled. That’s all I do now.

They both looked elsewhere, unknowing of where to turn next in that conversation.

“Daryl wants you to call him when you’re up to it,” she remembered.

“I have no idea where my phone is,”

She rose to grab it from her purse, but hesitated. Still bloodied and in the bag with his keys. When she handed it over, Nick wavered, slowly turning it in his hands and observing. He looked like a child that had been yelled at for something he’d never done, like his eyes had finally been opened, revealing the world wasn’t as dreamy as he once thought.

He remembered trying to call, sometimes screaming for help. He remembered clawing at the ground, looking up at the night sky as the cold seeped in and his blood leaked out.

“Why do people hate me so much?”

Defeat.

She never thought it would come to this, but here they were. Callie felt for him. Hopelessness gripped her heart at the sight of him so crushed; this time, where was the silver lining he usually used to bounce back in the face of hardship?

Like he looked away and wiped his eyes to hide his anguish, she finally let herself wrap her arms around him, carefully embracing his injured form that shook with silent cries to hide her own tears she couldn’t repress.

↠

“Your phone is going off again,” Nick told her, his arm draped over his head and an ice-pack upon his sore ribs. He’d watched her phone light up and vibrate loudly on the bedside table at least 3 times in last hour.

She finished pulling the blankets up his legs before walking to her phone, chewing her inner lips.

Rosie this time. She hadn’t dared answer when Patricia called; that woman knew not how to deliver advice in any kind way, even if Callie usually appreciated her bluntness. She was sure those calls weren’t to offer any sage, older sister advice, though. It would've been to tell her how foolish she was for quitting her job, taking care of the ex-boyfriend, yada yada yada.

No one said shit when you stayed with Luis after he cheated on you 3 times…

“I’ll be right back,” Callie mumbled, finally greeting Rosie as she walked from the room.

Nick watched the TV, already starting to feel uncomfortable on his side, but the ice on his ribs was a welcome numbness. They’d only given him a small starting dose of effective pain meds, and since he’d agreed to not ask for more before the allowed time, he had to deal with ice and heating pads, and flipping side to side in bed.

But something else scratched at his calm exterior.

He wanted to shower. He was covered in dried betadine and blood that he had picked at the remainder of the day, not to mention the bedding he’d been laying in since the AM hours. A giant scab is the closest thing he could compare to how he felt when he asked Callie to guard the door so he could shower.

She only looked at him flatly, waiting out his puppy dog eyes until he sighed and looked away.

Now he was contemplating.

Even if he could wipe himself down, maybe rinse off his arms… stick himself under the shower head real quick.

He exhaled, glancing at the door. Callie was still out there, but he’d heard the door latch.

There was no need to set the ice pack down so quietly, nor was there any need to move the blankets aside so slowly, but everything seemed louder, even his legs sliding across the sheets.

He tensed, stifling a groan when he tightened his ribs. Although his body protested, urging him to lie back down, he kept his eyes trained to the door, biting his tongue every time something across his body rang with pain.

He allowed himself to breathe when he was up, his head hung down. Running a steep incline would've been a walk in the park compared to this.

Nick tested his knee, slowly swinging his foot in tight thrusts. It wasn’t pleasant, but it didn’t seem unbearable, either.

Another look at the door, and he gripped the edge of the bed, staring determinedly at the floor.

“Okay listen I get the taking care of him but Cal why did you have to quit your job?” Rosie implored.

With the phone held away from her ear, she could still hear her, and knew that their mom or Patricia must’ve also been there after ignoring them all day.

“Even if I hadn’t’ve quit I wouldn’t’ve been paid anything missing all that work. I would've been fired eventually,” she repeated, maybe for the tenth time.

“You could have worked around the weeks-”

“Tio Gordo would not have paid me,”

“You don’t know that,”

“I do. I’ve asked for overtime before and he said no. He only pays what keeps him out of trouble,” Callie argued flatly. This conversation was running circles, and the pounding of a hunger headache was starting to grow in severity.

“You could’ve asked mom to talk to him,”

She scoffed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. “Rose-”

“Callie!”

She spun against the wall, shoving through the door to Nick’s room.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her phone call forgotten as she kneeled by his form sprawled across the ground, unsure of how to help first.

“Did you roll out of bed?” she asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and squatting over him to leverage him into a sitting position. He whimpered, trembling as he did his best to curl himself forwards. It wasn’t until he was sat against the bed did she notice the blood on her arm that was trickling from the back of his hand.

She looked up- his IV had been ripped out.

“Oh baby,” she breathed, bolting to grab the towels in the bathroom.

If his pain was a 10 before, it was a 13 now. He’d flopped right onto his bad side after the slightest amount of his own weight leaned on his knee.

“Okay here we go,” she said, wrapping a smaller towel around his hand. “Hold that,” she instructed, using another to wipe his face of sweat and blood. The stitch above his eye had popped, also.

“Did you hit your head?”

He nodded. “I need to call the nurses,” she told him, starting to stand.

“Wait,” he grabbed her arm, and she watched as he pulled his gown aside.

Blood was pooling beneath the patch tapped just under his peck.

Callie exhaled, looking back to his tired eyes.

↠

“One more, pumpkin,” Margaret mumbled.

Nick’s face scrunched, his hand tightening around Callie’s when the needle poked slowly into the gash over his ribs. Callie hushed him gently when he growled, her forehead against his where she leaned from her seat beside him.

He could feel the skin tug when line was pulled through and tied, but the sharp pinch of the curved needle was undetected. Callie still stayed close, her hand now below his cheek where he’d rested his head.

She knew he was embarrassed, and wasn’t speaking because of it, but she’d never deny the comfort he clearly needed. Throughout the time it took to restitch him, she’d silenced his angered protests, pulling his face back to look at her when he lashed out. The extra dose of dilaudid helped when he became too resistant, too.

He looked up at her with those sleepy ambers when her finger scraped gently against his cheek, and lingered.

She giggled. “You look so high,”

He snorted, but she stilled him so he wouldn’t disrupt his doctor. “My eyes feel like heavy windows,” he mumbled, adjusting his face back over her splayed hand. “You’re so soft,”

So she pulled from his grasp to hold his other cheek, and his grin was dopey, aided by his swollen, lopsided brow.

“Have the nurses given him a fall risk band?” Margaret asked. Nick grumbled, burrowing his face downwards to hide.

“Only the little sad face page on the door,” Callie answered.

“Unfortunately we can’t put bells on patients who are supposed to stay in bed,” she paused to clip the last stitch. “But I implore you to stay put. You’re lucky your ribs didn’t snap and stab a lung,”

“Are you listening?” Callie asked. Nick nodded, his eyes barely open. “Can he take sponge baths?”

“I recommend not? Water can still get under these bandages,”

“But it’s not strictly forbidden?” Callie asked, raising her brows when Margaret looked at her.

“No, it’s not,”

“We’ll tackle that in the morning then,” Callie told him, but it looked like he’d already fallen asleep again with his arm over his head and half his body exposed with clean stitches.

“When I hear back on when he’ll be getting that repeat MRI I’ll have someone tell you,” his doctor told her, carefully taping another gauze patch over the wound before starting to pull her gloves off and clean the tableside tray. Callie nodded, her head lolling sideways on the pillow beside his, looking at Nick.

“How much longer will the temper keep up for?” she asked, her thumb stroking his chin that puckered under her touch.

Margaret shrugged. “Probably when his head stops hurting. It’s easy to understand why he’s so irritable,”

It made perfect sense, but it still unsettled her. It was like the blows he took to the head had altered his very personality. All day he’d been resistant, and snappy, even when she’d done her best to assist him.

“Is it unlike him?”

“Extremely,” Callie sighed, slowly sliding her hand from under his cheek.

Nick stirred, his eyes dragging open.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” she cooed, but he shook his head, which was actually more of a wiggle.

“Hungry,” he grumbled.

“Of course you are,”

“Okay, don’t try to stand up again because I will sedate you and tie you down if I have to,” Margaret pointed, her brows perked up as she glared at him suspiciously. Nick nodded curtly, but chuffed lowly when she turned her back.

Nick returned Callie’s sideways glare when the door was closed, but with foggy eyes. Her determination to win this stare off was hindered as she struggled to open the bag of dried mango pieces.

“Gimme,” he reached, but she snorted.

“You can’t do anything with that club hand,” she retorted. Now he chuffed at her, but she only snickered.

With the bag at last opened, and chewing sleepily on them with a handful cupped against his chest, she moved about the room, flipping the lights off so it was only the IV pump illuminating them and street lights poking through the curtains.

Nick hummed as he chewed, caught somewhere between consciousness and a strange state of mind that he’d never experienced before. College was the last time he’d been high, but it had worn off so quickly that he could barely enjoy any part of it. The differences in salvia and dilaudid were night and day, however.

He could recall the curtains around him melting, and the color storm swarming his vision. That was the last time he touched it, and associated with the ‘friends’ that laughed when he panicked.

But this was… this was nice, he had to admit.

He was pinching his gown in search of another piece when Callie finally settled beside him in a chair, spreading her own blanket over her legs that she propped up on the mattress beside his.

“Where’d you find scrubs?” Nick asked, at last noticing she was no longer in the clothes she had worn earlier.

“I know a couple people here,” she exhaled, leaning back and scrolling through her phone.

He toyed with a piece of mango between his lips. “Did you find them in a closet?”

Her smile was guilty, but made him grin in return. By the time he finished his mangos, she had set her phone down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, wiggling her head against the backrest of the chair.

They looked at one another, the slightest of light silhouetting his lax form that was still only half clothed, but his sharp eyes could see her clearly, or as much as he could in his drowsy state.

“S’quiet,” he whispered.

“Music?” she whispered back, and he nodded.

She named off bands from her phone that he continued to grunt in disapproval to, but she was coming to the end of her library of choices.

“Choose or I’m gonna play Billie,” she said. He looked so deep in thought that she knew what he was about to say when he opened his mouth, his eyes barely open.

“No Cannibal Corpse,” she interrupted.

His face scrunched, his jaw shifting outwards. “What’d’you have against them?”

“I like thrash, not death metal,”

“But they’re-”

“Not romantic,” she interrupted again, locking sleepy gazes with him.

“You’re mean,” he mumbled, settling deeper into his bed. She snorted softly, finally choosing a song and resting the phone flat against her chest as she slipped further down her seat.

Nick’s good brow furrowed. “Is’this tha’ teenager?”

“Mhm,” Callie hummed, her eyes closed as the gentle harmony accompanied by the soft strumming of guitar floated across the room.

“Creepy song,” he grumbled.

“And let me crawl inside your veins,” she drawled softly, smiling after she’d cracked an eye open to find him staring intensely at her.

“Stop,”

“I’ll build a wall, give you a ball and chain,” she continued, but he flapped his hand around, only managing to keep one eye open as she sang. “I put it on repeat,” Callie smiled, patting his hand away when he reached farther to mess with her.

He yawned when she did, unbearably sleepy, yet unable to stop looking at her as she barely mouthed the words, the one eye she had open fallen shut. Her lips slowed, her grin dissolving as the last of her awareness faded by the time the song had completed again.

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, alerting him she’d fallen under. There was also the way her left brow always rose when she was passed out, and always made him grin. Neverending attitude, even when she was unconscious.

Nick couldn’t reach the soft ends of her shorter hair around her cheeks, and exhaled with his arm hung off the bed after giving up.

But he could reach her lithe fingertips, hung off her thigh.

Carefully he stroked beneath them with his blunt fingers, secretly desperate to feel them scrape against his skin again, or caress his palms when she’d hold his hands and smile, speaking to him about anything and everything.

Slowly, he laced his fingers just to his middle knuckles with hers, forever amazed by the difference in size of their hands.

He brought his hand back to his own chest before the song would start again, but continued to gaze at her, detailing the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips- how her honey-golden skin still glowed with warmth in the dark. He wanted to see those big eyes smile at him, without reservation, or in pity.

Nick swallowed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he whispered. “I wanted to call. I should’ve brought you home.”

But this feels right so stay a sec Yeah, this feels right so stay a sec

for anyone who's wondering, the song is Hostage by Billie Eilish yes callie is a metal head, BUT EVERYONE LIKES AT LEAST ONE SONG FROM BILLIE

our babies still have a long road ahead of them, so stay patient, my lovely readers, and as always, thanks for spending time with my story today! 🖤😊

26 notes · View notes

anonfeather · 6 years

Text

Amnesia (demon/angle AU)

Rating: PG

Word count: 820

Content/Tags/Warning: slur, hospital setting, attempted murder, abusive parents

Notes: A while ago, @nackledamia said: “OKAY SO I've been craving some amnesia fics recently so: James forgets Thomas and Thomas has to find his way back into James' heart :')”

So, it inspired this ficlet, which is a sequel to the Angel/Demon AU drabble.

Upon opening his eyes, he was in terrible pain and confusion. A man was occupying a chair to his right, disgruntled look on his face. Thomas wanted to say something, but it came as a distorted moan.

“Oh, so you’re alive,” the man said. Thomas recognised him as his father. A loud beeping drew his attention; it was a monitor, checking his vitals. He tried moving his arm, but it felt heavy. He glimpsed at an IV, plugged into his hand. He gathered that he was in a hospital.

“Damn you,” hie father cursed. “Why didn’t you die? I could have gotten your life insurance.”

The words should have stung; maybe before the accident they would have. Right now however, Thomas could only find this man as pathetic. He didn’t care that it was his father, for that didn’t mean anything now.

The accident had jogged his memory; not of his current life. Something beyond life itself.

His eternal soul had been shaken up.

Before being reincarnated as a mortal, he had been a Demon, working to tempt humans down the wrong path.

This mortal life, with this trash of a father, had been his punishment for heavenly sin.

That of falling in love with an Angel.

“W-where’s James?” He croaked, throat dry.

“Who the fuck is that faggot?” the father asked, not wanting an answer. He stood up, fiddling with the tubes. Thomas realized he was covering his tracks. The jackass had tried to unplugged him from the life support! Too weak to comment about it, he committed the act to memory; swearing to summon a buddy or two deal with him later.

“Congrats, by the way, you’re finally emancipated.” Papers smacked him on his chest. “Good luck with your hospital bills.”

The weight of the papers disturbed his breathing. His father left, unconcerned by the trouble his act did upon his health.

‘Good riddance,’ thought Thomas. He blindly grasped around him to find his morphine drip. He turned it off, hoping that the drug’s fog would clear quickly so he could recall all the details of his soul-bound memories. He wasn’t ever supposed to get them back, but the near-death experience jostle his soul and unlocked them.

He needed to find James! His love had been punished too; he would have a horrible mortal life too. Thomas needed to save him.

oOoOoOoOo

Was it plain luck? Was one of their friend watching over them? James was in the same hospital as he was!

Thomas had escaped his room, inexplicably drawn down the hall. There was his love, surrounded by machines to keep him well. He was awake, reading a book, unaware of being spied by a former Demon that love him so dearly.

“J-james,” Thomas said, limping inside the room. The sudden visit took James by surprised.

“Hm, on hello. Ah, do you need a nurse..?” James pressed the call button.

“No, I just need to be near you. You don’t remember me do you?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

“That’s fine. At least I found you.” Thomas pressed his forehead to his mates’, tears of joy streaming down. “I got you, I’ll keep you safe. We’re finally gonna be together.”

“Er,” the former Angel didn’t struggle from the touch out of politeness. A nurse came in, carefully corradling Thomas away from her patient.

“Please set my bed here, please!” Thomas asked, not wanting to be far from his objective.

“I’m sorry, but it’s against hospital policy,” she said.

“The fuck it is!” Yelled Thomas. His exertion caused his breathing to go ragged. He coughed some blood, and stitches from his cheek came undone. The nurse took a step back, called for backup.

“Please, let him stay,” James said, his kindness to much for this world. He didn’t want to the other boy to suffer more simply to stay by his side. He obviously had a head wound; if staying in his private room was suffisant to keep him calm, he’ll gladly share.

The nurse aquiested, quickly getting the medical supplies and bed to fix Thomas up.

Thomas smiled placidly, allowing the nurses to fuss over him. As long as he could be near James, he’d be content. Drugs flooded back into his system. As he loss conscience, he stretched an arm towards James. He was too far to actually reach him, yet he tried.

James felt a weight in his chest from the devotion this stranger was giving him. His parents never gave a him a second glance ever since he was born, sticking him in different hospital out of necessity than love. It wouldn’t do for the governor's sickly son to be medically neglected; bad publicity after all. They kept their distance; he was always alone.

The need this other boy had to stay near him was heartwarming. It wouldn’t last, once his head trauma heals. But for now, he’ll indulge in the attention.

He asked to have his bed roller closer, to hold the other’s hand in comfort. He felt a drop of joy.

If only it could last.

#jeffmads #drabble #Fandom: Hamilton (Miranda)#james madison #thomas jefferson

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rebelcthulhu · 6 years

Text

The Struggle

So, just as a forewarning this may get a bit lengthy. I don't really know what possessed me to suddenly open up about my day to day struggles, but I'm come to terms with the fact that sometimes you have to yell about the things that bother you. That being said I've decided to crack open a can of worms I really don't talk about a whole lot on here. So let's start at the beginning, shall we?

*warning* if some people have issues with hearing or reading about medical stuff this may not be for them. This talks about a few things, but doesn't go into a lot of detail so I'll try and tag appropriatly.

I have and autoimmune disease. I have Ulcerative Colitis. (Pt. 1)

I still remember at the age of 5 years old (a lot of things happened around that time, but that's a battle for a different day) my mother got the news that I (her daughter) had an incurable disease. She was devastated. I remeber her crying on the couch in our home, distraught over everything that was happening. I didn't understand at the time what was truly going on, and I still wouldn't for a long time. But I recall climbing up into her lap, whipping away her tears and saying something along the lines of, "it will be okay, Momma."

Flash forward a couple of year and I no longer lived with my Mom. My Grandma and Grandpa took care of me and my little brother from then on.

Life was alright for awhile. I knew in some ways I was different. I was much smaller than other kids my age, but then again, all the people in my family were small. I had to go to the doctor often which again I knew to be different then other kids, but a lot of things that went on in my life other people my age didn't have to go through. So, I didn't talk about it much when they asked why I left school early, or had days when I was absent because I was sick more often than them.

Over the years, doctor visits, blood being drawn, tests and procedures all became the norm to me. I just knew I had something that others didn't, but then I'd always think really I was no different than them at all. I still hated math class, I still ran and played on the swings at recess. So what if I didn't feel good all the time. So what if I had to take pills every morning, and then two different ones at night. I was still a kid, and I still didn't know that there were things in the world that would eventually make playing outside seem impossible.

5 more years flew by and everything still seemed okay, that was until one morning something didn't feel right. I was 10 at the time. You couldn't ask me what day it was or if I had been late for school that morning. All I remember is coming to my Grandma and telling her I didn't feel good and something didn't feel right. I felt like I was getting sick, but a different sick then I'd ever felt before.

My Grandma took one look at me and immediately called my doctor. They told her to take me to the hospital where they were. About 100 miles from where we lived. So she loaded me up in the car. I was very tired so the ride there seemed to go by so fast. (when I was older, I later learned my Grandma had drove there like a bat out of hell) When we got to the emergency room I was immediately bumped up the list consideding I was a child and they were expecting me. I sat in the waiting room, dosing in and out, for only about 15 mins.

When the nurse called my name I went back into this tiny room where they would take my vitales and admit you. I recall my whole body feeling heavy yet light at the same time, kinda like I was floating in a way. The nice lady started taking my temp, heart rate, etc. and I remember there being kind of a stunned silence at first. She checked my blood pressure 6 different times, even going as far as to switch cuffs twice. When she and another nurse (who'd been called after the second time she took it, I believe) finally concluded that the incredibly low blood pressure was indeed correct things started happening very quickly.

Within 5 mins I was on a gurny in a hospital gown and going in for an emergency CT scan. I had to drink two cups of this awful liquid that turned my stomach, but I was kinda used to it after having what felt like my 100th CT scan in the 5 years since I'd been diagnosed. Yet I still always laughed when they hooked me up to an IV and would say to me that the meds they were gonna giving me was gonna make me feel warm and tingly, but that I shouldn't worry because it only makes you think you've peed yourself, ha. So finally I get into this big ass machine and I'm told it's alright if I close my eyes and nap a little bit, since they needed me to lay very still.

After that moment it was all a blur. I don't know if it's a hole in my memory exactly, since its been so long ago, or if I really did lose consciousness in the CT machine. The next thing I remember I was waking up in the Childrens ICU, hooked up to a million different wires, and steadily becoming pissed off at the 16 year old girl crying and screaming like a baby because she was having her IV removed while her mom wasn't there. (I realized later this was really mean of me considering where we were, but at the time, of course, I really didn't care. I'd had a thousand needles stuck in me and removed and I was a pro at that point. I was just peved that I'd been woken up, honestly.)

So at first I was confused as to where I was, I didn't understand what was happening or why I was there at all, but then my doctor and my grandma came in the room. They were both so happy to see me awake, but told me I couldn't sit up and then explained to me that I was VERY sick and that I was getting blood put back in me. (I think it was like 2 or 3 units I was missing. But it's a bit fuzzy.) My doctor checked on me and then left to go and start ordering me procedures. My Grandma sat and explained to me that I was gonna be in the hospital for awhile and that at one point between having the scan and going to the ICU my heart had literally stoped, not once, but TWICE from blood loss. Again I didn't really understand the severity at the time. I just knew I was sick and in incredible pain and I just wanted to go home and see my cat, Mickey.

From that point forward I started preparing to have my operations. I was loosing a lot of blood due to my instest and the disease that now suddenly consumed my whole life. I was angry, I was scared, I was constantly poked and prodded. Yet out of all of it, I was constantly told how strong I was. How I was everyone's favorite kid in the ward. How I had to be the sweetest little girl they'd ever met.

I spent a total of 6-7 months in and out of the hospital. I missed my entire 4th grade year of school. (Not that I minded honestly, ha.) And I had 3 surgeries ending in a coletomy and a j-pouch reconstructive procedure. I lived for 6 months with an ostimy bag. (which till this day I still have nightmares about..) I had some of the most tramatic things in my life happen to me during that time. From having things shoved inside of me, infections that literally left me able to see inside my own body for a short time, to a prticularly awful nurse who still sticks in my memory today.

But when it was all said and done, I was finally healthy! It was apparent to nearly every single person around me, and at that point even myself! I'd never really known a life without pain, and with that I didn't know what it was like to actually feel good! I had more energy! I could eat and eat and eat until the cows came home. Hell, it didn't even bother me that I went to the bathroom a little more than normal! I did that anyway! If felt like I truly got it all. I had suffered for what felt like forever not being able to go home, but now I had a future that was completely different than what I was always told it was gonna be.

But like they say, all good things must to come to an end.

#rebel's struggle #so there is the first half of i believe a 2 piece thing ive been working on #idk when ill start the second half #hopfully things will be alright for a min and i can finish it soon #im gonna be tagging this as #medical #ulcerative colitis #uc #tw: blood loss #tw: surgery #tw: hospital

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jolienjoyswriting · 4 years

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Electrical Distubance, Ch. IV

Chapter 4 of "Electrical Disturbance," a Rockman (Dr. Chou Numbers universe) fan fiction story.

I sure do love worldbuilding. I'm also a big fan of world-wrecking, it seems.

Word count: 3,296 – Character count: 19,020 Originally written: July 18th, 2020

Kaitlin quickly finds herself on the wrong end of gun as she tries to figure out what's going on.

Elecman, Thomas Right, Roll, Blues/Breakman, “Rockman,” and related characters and concepts created by various people and © Capcom Co, Ltd. "Dr. Chou Numbers" concept and related characters and concepts created by and © Jussy Kaitlin/Thundergirl created by and © KaitlinEXE

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The room fell silent. Well, silent… apart from the maniacal cackling that filled it. Kaitlin had just dropped a bombshell on the room by announcing herself as a Wily-‘bot. Dr. Right and Roll were positively agog with surprise. Elecman, however… “I know what’s going on!” He went full-aggro on the girl!

“Elecman, no!” Dr. Right shouted as the robot charged an electrical attack. “I must have infected her with a time-release program during our regrettable skirmish in Nevada! She thinks she’s one of Wily’s machines – I must make this right!” Elecman took a fighting pose and put his hands over his chest, one above and one below, both pointing opposite directions. As he slid the two across each other, a loud crackle of energy sparked to life between them. In the next second, his hands went over his head in preparation… “This is for your own good, Thundergirl! Thunder Beam!!” Then, he threw them outward in an open-clam position, sending a powerful bolt across the room and… “Nooooo…!!” Straight into Roll’s waiting chest.

Once again, the room went entirely silent. Even Kaitlin, who was completely convinced she was going to be zapped, stood in awe of what had happened. “Roll…” Dr. Right weakly called to his creation as she awkwardly lay on the floor. “You dear, sweet child,” Elecman whispered, looking away, “what have you done…” “She… She saved me. She saved me?! Why did she save me?!” Indeed, just as Elecman had prepared to disable Kaitlin with a Thunder Beam… Roll had run in as fast as her feet could carry her, screamed in rejection, launched herself between the two, then crashed into the closet door, clutching her chest and trembling in agony, her body surging, crackling, and smoldering from her younger brother’s attack.

“She saved me…” Kaitlin couldn’t make heads-or-tails of it. “A Right-‘bot saved me from gettin’ zapped…” She fell to her knees, her eyes filling with tears of confusion and another emotion she didn’t quite understand. “I…” “Get away from her!”

Just as Kaitlin was about to pull Roll onto her back… Dr. Right came in swinging! Even though she was only stunned by the coat rack that was smashed against her full-metal head… it was more-than-enough to get her back onto her feet and scurry right out the front door! She didn’t want anything to do with those crazy Rights! “Gotta get outta here…” she panted as she ran even faster than before. “Gotta find a radio…! Gotta call Papa Wily and… and have him save me…! Gotta– ooph!” But, that was going to have to wait…

After being bounced to the ground, Kaitlin looked up… then she shivered with fear. Standing in front of her was a man in a gray jumpsuit with a yellow scarf and red boots and gauntlets. He had a shield on his back and… one very large arm-cannon pointed right at her head. “You have exactly five seconds to explain yourself, Thundergirl,” he told her in a cold voice that lacked any mercy. “After that… I’m going to blow your head off.” A lot of words came out of the frightened girl’s mouth as she stared down the barrel of his glowing plasma weapon. She could feel it scorching her face as it gathered energy for a powerful attack. Naturally, seeing that sort of thing was enough to keep her from saying anything coherent, but when she realized she couldn’t get a word out… “Aaaaahh…!!” She curled into a ball, covered her head, and hoped for a miracle. “Okay. That will do.” And, that’s exactly what she got.

The girl dared to peek through her arms, violently shaking and hyperventilating out of pure, unrestrained fear. Twice, today, she was sure she was going to die and twice, today, she was saved by some unexpected circumstance! If her luck held out… maybe she could be back in the cozy comfort of her papa’s latest castle before sundown! She hoped, anyway…

“Get up.” The sharply flinched, drawn from her thoughts by the man-in-gray. “I said…” A kick to the leg made her yelp. “Get up.” She was quick to follow directions, then. The kick didn’t hurt that much, but it was pretty clear that this man… robot? This person wasn’t screwing around…

“Now…” Kaitlin stood at full attention. Whatever his next order was… she planned to follow it! “Explain… slowly… why you decided to make a mess of my family’s house after the doctor took time out of his day to save your worthless life.” For some reason, the urge to turn it around and call him worthless boiled up inside her. Thankfully… she decided not to act on it. “I-I-I didn’t know he f-fixed me…” she openly admitted with a stutter. “I j-j-just woke up in a s-strange place, s-surrounded by people my dad hates! I was s-scared…” “Liar!” She shrieked as he shouted at her. A second later, she noticed him cross his arms. “Let’s try this, again… Why did you make a mess of my family’s house?” “I… umm…” She hesitated before admitting, “I did it in the name of Dr. Wily…” “Are you one of his creations?” She shrunk before answering, “Y-yes… I… I’m a Special Wily Number. L-like Big Bro Forte and Lost Bro King!” The man in the red helmet and black visor hummed. “Has this always been the case? Wily tends to… ‘find…’ a lot of ‘his’ robots.” “A-as far as I know…?” Unfortunately… she really didn’t know.

“Hmm…” The unnamed man looked to one side as he thought out loud, “You told us you were an amnesiac, but you never told us you were a Wily Number. Why the change-of-heart? Why the change-of-alliance…?” “What?” Kaitlin blinked in confusion. “I-I’ve always been a Wily Number, M-Mister…” “Breakman.” “M-Mister Breakman,” she corrected without hesitation. “Did your… creator… ever specifically tell you of your creation?” “Um… no. B-but, a lot’a my brothers don’t remember bein’ created by Papa Wily, either!” She looked down at the ground, rubbing her arm. “He doesn’t tell us stuff like that ‘cause, even though we think of ourselves as a family, he just sees us as tools… moving from one ‘project’ to the next… B-But, that’s okay, ‘cause we kind of are just tools! People who get attached to ‘tools’ are stupid and wrong! I mean, that white-haired beardo got all freaked-out when Elecman zapped that dumb, blond maid, and–” All positive emotion – not to mention color – brained from the girl’s face as she found her eyesight obscured by the faintly-glowing end of Breakman’s weapon. “Watch your mouth, Thundergirl…” She thought about keeping quiet. However… “W… wh-why?” A question found its way out of her mouth, instead. “I happen to like that Right Number.” He lowered his gun as he added, “She’s the only one who isn’t trying to change me…” “Ch… ‘change you?’” “Never mind.”

Breakman crossed his arms, again, before turning to the side. Even though Kaitlin couldn’t see his eyes through the visor, she knew he was looking at the Right House. She figured he was probably thinking, too, considering how quiet he got…

“Thundergirl.” “Wh-why does everyone keep calling me that?” “What?” He turned her way. She was scowling and looked annoyed. “Why does everyone keep calling me ‘Thundergirl…?’” Kaitlin repeated. “I dunno who that even is! My name is ‘Kaitlin!’ I guess it’s technically Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin… but ‘Kaitlin’ is way less of a mouthful!” Though she was smiling… Breakman was not. “Say that, again,” he half-demanded. “Say what again?” She tilted her head. “‘My name is Kaitlin?’” “Your full name.” “My full name… my… designation, ugh.” She scowled. “It’s Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin. I’m a Special Wily Number just like–” “Again.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I’m… Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin.”

“Thundergirl. Kaitlin, rather…” Breakman leaned to one side, tilting his head. “Are you aware of what you’re saying?” “Of course I am!” She huffed. “What kind of stupid question is that?” The other robot smirked. He liked it when her true personality out-shined her fear. “Say your full designation one more time.” Kaitlin stomped her foot and threw her hands down, losing patience. “I’ll say it five more times if it’ll get you to stop asking!” she shouted. “Okay.” He continued to smirk as he told her, “Go ahead.” So, she did.

“I am Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin, I am Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin, I am Special Wily Number error: Kaitlin, I am… I… w-wait…” A look of fear and confusion came to her face as Breakman’s smirk became a smile. “Why… why don’t I have a number? Why can’t I find my number? Breakman…!” Her anxiety grew into panic and she grabbed the other robot by the shoulders. “Wh-why can I find my Special Wily Number?! Wh-what does that mean?!” “It means…” he started as he knocked her arms away, “you don’t have one. Wily never gave you a number.” “No… No, you’re wrong!” she cried, shaking her head. “I have a number! I-if Big Bro Forte is 1 and Lost Bro King is 2, then… then I’m 3! Zero-zero-three… I am Special Wily Number error!” Her eyes shot open. “I’m Special Wily Number error,” she repeated without meaning to. “No, I’m Special Wily Number error. I-I’m Special Wily Number error! Error!! Eeerr-herr-rooor…!!” “I think that pretty much sums it up, don’t you?” “You��!”

All-at-once, Kaitlin’s confusion, fear, and anxiety turned red-hot and she took a swing at Breakman! To her utter surprise… “Ah…” It connected.

“I… I…” The girl whimpered as she pulled her fist back. Breakman didn’t even so much as flinch when he was struck. Even after-the-fact, all he did was stand there, his head jerked back in the position she’d forced it into and his body in a neutral position. There was one other thing, though…

He wasn’t smiling, anymore.

“Oh, god!!” For some reason, the girl curled into a ball, hugging her head and whimpering in fear instead of running. She was far too panicked to even consider leaving the area. It took her a good minute of cowering before she looked up… but when she did… “Ahh– aah…!” She found herself pulled by the collar of her hoodie.

“Well?” “W… w… w-well…?” the girl stammered, almost too afraid to answer. “Did you get it out of your system?” There was a long pause before she asked, “A-aren’t you mad at me?” “I don’t get mad.” She blinked as he let go of her… only to make a horrible choking sound as his fist forcefully found its way into her stomach. “I get even.”

When he withdrew, she doubled over in pain, tears welling up in her eyes. She hissed and growled, huffing as she pain kept coming. He hadn’t even hit her with that plasma gun, but it sure felt like he did! “You… you sonova…!” “That’s right, Kaitlin.” He grinned. “Get angry.” “You hurt me…!” “You hurt Roll.” “Elecman hurt Roll!” “She got hurt saving you.” “You… you…!” “Me.” “I’ll kill you!!”

A few things happened in the instants that followed Kaitlin’s outburst. Firstly, she found herself on the ground, several paces away, laying there in more pain than before. Secondly, Breakman had pulled his shield around and, as best as she could figure, used it to whack her over to where she was. And, thirdly… “Wh… what…?” Her hands were sparking and crackling with white-hot plasmatic electricity.

“Did I– ow!” Kaitlin tried to get up… only to fall right back down, clutching her mid-section. “Careful,” Breakman warned in a mocking tone. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” “What… what did…” She looked at her hands. “What did I just do…?!” “You just lived up to your name, Thundergirl.”

After reeling for a minute, Kaitlin finally got back to her feet. When she did, she noticed… there was a large, veiny sort of scorch mark on Breakman’s shield, as well as something similar on the ground. Between that, the tingling and crackling of her hands, and the constant nickname everyone kept using, she could only come to one conclusion… “Did… did Papa Wily upgrade me into a ‘battle android…?’” For some reason… she started beaming. “This is the best-worst-best birthday, ever…!!” Then, when she tried to pump her fist in the air… “Ow…!!” She collapsed back on the ground, her aching stomach telling her that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Ahem…”

Several moments passed after Kaitlin made her discovery, in which time, she started playing with her newfound power. For example, she spread her fingers and made a current arc from-one-to-the-next… She created a series of small sparks that crackled like fireworks… She even wrote her name in the air with a lovely cursive font! Just as she was starting to enjoy herself, though… Breakman broke in.

“What’s up, Breakman?” she called, still full of mirth despite her head and stomach aching from his counter-attacks. “You’re probably not going to believe this…” he told her, “but, before today, you were galavanting around, passing yourself off as a ‘superhero’ named ‘Thundergirl.’” “Me? A superhero?” The girl blinked her brown eyes. “I could never… Well, maybe…!” As she clapped her hands together and formed a ball of lightning… “Don’t get any funny ideas.” Breakman gave her pause. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’…” she said, feigning innocence as she popped the ball and started drawing in the dirt with a sweet smile.

“In any case… this isn’t your first visit to the Right Labs compound.” Breakman stepped over as he told her, “A couple of months ago, Dr. Right invited you here to study you.” “That doesn’t sound right!” She slowly got to her feet, hugging her stomach. “Ow… Uh, why would Dr. Right invite me, a Wily-‘bot, to his place? That’d be like Dr. Wily asking Rockman to come over for cake and punch!” She winched from her stomach ache, suddenly wishing she’s said “cake and soda…” “At the time,” he continued, slipping his shield onto his back, “you didn’t announce yourself as a Wily Number.” “What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense, Breakman…” She frowned a little, wincing as her head throbbed. “I’ve always been a Wily Number since… since… why… um… why are there these huge gaps in my memory?” “You’re an amnesiac.” “Don’t get smart with me, Scarf-Boy!” He smirked as she scowled.

“You came back here after fighting a Wily-controlled Elecman, five days ago,” the robot said. “He was simply out-of-commission while you had severe internal damage. Once he was fixed-up, it was your turn to go under-the-knife, so-to-speak.” Kaitlin tilted her head, listening to the story with a doubtful look. “My best guess? The doctor couldn’t help himself and took at peek at your brain.” “My brain…?” “Yep. And, if I had to guess… he screwed something up and set you back to your factory defaults… or at least somewhere around the time Wily first activated you. The question is… whose side are you really on?” “Papa Wily’s, of course! And, with my new electric weapons…” She gave another mean smile before mimicking Elecman’s pose from earlier. “I can be a hero for justice!”

There was an awkward moment where Kaitlin continued to charge and play with her electricity. She kept tossing Breakman glances, hoping for a reaction of some kind. When he didn’t give her one, though… she stopped her movements, put her hands into her hoodie’s front pockets, and sighed, looking away. “Couldn’t you… ya know… at least pretend t’ be scared?” “Scared of what?” Breakman replied. “Of me!” He was grinning when she snapped back… which only made her angrier. “You’re no threat to me,” he told her with that same grin. “Oh, yeah?!” When he nodded, she pulled her hands back out and charged an attack. “You’d better run!” she warned. “I mean it!” Rather than run, though… “Wh… what are you doing?” “Calling your bluff.” Breakman did something crazy.

As Kaitlin held her attack, Breakman nudged his shield off of his back and… to her continued surprise… tossed it some distance away. Then, he held his arms out, away from his body, and made the girl a promise. “If you plan to attack me, Wily Number, then I won’t stop you. I won’t even try and avoid it. I’ll stand right here, with my arms out, and I’ll let you hit me.” “Are… are you insane?!” the girl cried, her face showing anger and befuddlement. “No.” He smirked. “I just don’t think you’ll do it.” “Of course I can!” Her smile returned and she hunkered down. “The Rights are your family, right? So, that makes you my enemy! I’d be doin’ Papa Wily a favor by destroyin’ you with my fancy, new upgrades! He might even reward me! So, why wouldn’t I?” “Because…” She gritted her teeth. Somehow… she knew he’d narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re no threat to me.” “I am too a threat!” “You aren’t.” “I am!” “No, you aren’t.” “I am, I am, I am…!!” “You really aren’t.” “I… I am, though…!” Even though she seemed ready to strike… her resolve was starting to crack.

“I’ll do it!” she told him, sounding less confident than before. “I’ll… I’ll shut you down!” “Go ahead,” the grey-suited robot said in a calm voice. “I’ll… I’ll zap you from-head-to-toe and make you hurt!” “I’m waiting.” “I’ll… I’ll… I-I’ll…” She sighed, canceling her attack. “O-oh, alright, fine. I won’t attack you.” The girl kicked a rock and pouted. “Happy?” “Almost.” “Wha–” “Blues Strike!”

Time stood still as the girl felt something… odd. Her eyes went open and the world seemed to turn to gray. She didn’t know what was going on or how it had happened… All she knew was that she felt kind of a sharp pinch… but only for a second. Then, after what seemed like forever… she felt herself collide with the ground. The instant the touched down, time resumed and color came back to reality. She heard herself gasp then, all-at-once, felt a burning… seething pain. When she could finally bring herself to look, she noticed a massive, burning scorch mark covering most of her chest and part of her belly. There was a little trail of burnt dirt leading up to her, as well. She followed that line with her eyes… only for another feeling to overtake her.

“Why…?”

Her brown eyes filled to the brim with tears and overflowed down her warm cheeks. She genuinely couldn’t believe that the robot… who had been so nice to her… could have been the one to attack her! Yet, the proof was right there, pointed roughly where she was a few seconds prior.

Breakman stood up straight, looking at his target with contempt and holding his smoking weapon upright. Even if she could see his eyes… she knew she’d see no mercy, whatsoever… “Because…” She flinched as he spoke, expecting him to fire, again. Thankfully… “You hurt my family.��

The man whistled a little tune as he retrieved his shield. Shortly after, he cast the wounded girl another look… then, he huffed with a smirk. Without another word, a pinkish-red glow overtook him and he disappeared in a beam of light, leaving the girl to lay there… dying.

“I’m ho– oh, my gosh…!!” “Kaitlin…?! Kaaaitliiiiin…!”

Kaitlin grunted at the new voices. Both sounded concerned, but one sounded absolutely grief-stricken. They both seemed to know her, so she tried to ask for help. However, she couldn’t hear her words… When she tried to turn toward the voices, she could only catch glimpses – her optics were starting to fail. As her systems powered down, though, she thought she saw two things: A boy in a blue helmet… and some sort of wild animal with glasses…

#gift #fan fiction #Mega Man #Dr. Chou Numbers #Electrical Disturbance #commercial characters #Elecman #Thomas Light #Roll Light #Protoman #fan characters #kaitlinexe #Kaitlin Wily #drama #suspense

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donalsgirl · 7 years

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Oscar Isaac’s Mom Died. Now He’s Working Out His Grief in ‘Hamlet.’

Oscar Isaac spent most of the fall and winter at a hospital in Florida, caring for his dying mother, Eugenia. As her condition deteriorated, he found himself reading aloud to her from “Hamlet.”

“I would just read the play all the time, do bits for her,” Mr. Isaac said.

An Elizabethan revenge tragedy with a substantial body count and heavy existential dread isn’t obvious bedside comfort. But Mr. Isaac, his mother and his sister were all Shakespeare obsessives. When he was growing up, they watched Franco Zeffirelli’s “Romeo and Juliet” over and over. “Me doing Shakespeare was her favorite thing,” Mr. Isaac said.

So reciting “Hamlet” to her at the hospital felt like the right thing. Sometimes it felt like the only thing. “I didn’t know how to process any of this, but this I knew how to do,” he said.

As her health declined, Shakespearean questions that had seemed abstract — What drives the dissolution of a family? How do you overcome crippling loss? — felt immediate and real, he said.

Continue reading the main story

“I know it happens to everybody, but it’d never happened to me,” he said. “I know people’s mothers have died, but this was mine.”

Mr. Isaac’s mother died in February, but “Hamlet” is still with him. For most of this heat-struck summer, he is performing as the tortured prince grieving the death of his father, six times a week for nearly four hours a throw at the Public Theater.

Mr. Isaac certainly has other ways to spend his days. For one, his first child, a son, was born in April. And his film career is booming. In a few short years, he’s graduated from indie artisan, with films like “Inside Llewyn Davis,” to bona fide star with roles in “X-Men: Apocalypse” and “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.” He can probably take whatever theater job he wants to or not take any theater job at all.

That said, “Hamlet” is a play that exerts a strange pull on a lot of movie and television stars (Benedict Cumberbatch, David Tennant, Jude Law, Ethan Hawke), and it’s a role just about any classically trained actor and plenty of actresses have dreamed of playing.

But it’s also a tragedy that asks Mr. Isaac to relive the anguished death of a parent at every performance. In Sam Gold’s rowdy, deconstructionist staging, every time Mr. Isaac mud-wrestles, or lofts a prop skull or performs a mad scene in just a T-shirt and briefs, he seems to be working through his own loss, transforming raw private grief into riveting public performance.

“It’s for my mom that I’m doing it,” he said. “It’s to honor her life, but also her death, which was so awful.”

ON A RECENT WEEKDAY, an hour before rehearsal, Mr. Isaac hunched in a booth at the back of the Library, the Public’s restaurant. Looking slighter in person than onscreen, he was sitting underneath a skull-bedizened poster for an earlier production of “Hamlet.” His black warm-up jacket was a modish update of Hamlet’s “inky cloak.” It wouldn’t have been a huge surprise if he had drawn a sword from underneath the table or spotted a ghost over by the bar.

This symbolic brazenness seemed like a joke; Mr. Isaac was probably in on it. He has a roguish sense of mischief that underlies even his more serious roles (“Ex Machina,” “A Most Violent Year”). And he’s one of the few actors of his generation who can combine the unrestrained volatility of a Method actor with pedigreed classical chops.

His Hamlet is antic, mercurial, unpredictable, but each line of verse comes across clearly, almost conversationally. As Oskar Eustis, the artistic director of the Public Theater — who helped cast a Juilliard-fresh Mr. Isaac in “Two Gentlemen of Verona” in 2005 and “Romeo and Juliet” two years later — said, “That combination, particularly in such a handsome man, it’s amazing.”

It’s that charisma that helped the “Star Wars” director J. J. Abrams decide not to kill off his character, Poe Dameron, who will reappear in the coming “Star Wars: The Last Jedi.” “The idea of Oscar Isaac as Poe coming back into the movie and being an ally to the cause got my blood pumping,” Mr. Abrams wrote in an email.

MR. ISAAC LOVED THEATER early. Born in Guatemala and raised by evangelical Christian parents in Miami, he had his first roles in religious plays. Even then, he played antiheroes. His first lead? The Devil. He devised an entrance from underneath the bleachers, scaring an adored teacher and exciting the interest of the popular girl he had a crush on.

“For that little moment, I thought, this is what I want to do,” he said.

Eventually he fell away from the church, and though his parents supported his acting ambitions, for a while he stopped that, too. He turned to music, migrating from soft rock to grunge rock to heavy metal, before landing in third-wave ska groups like the Worms and Blinking Underdogs, which attracted a local following.

Still, he never really shook theater. He studied it at community college and apprenticed at Area Stage Company in Miami. The artistic director got him reading Shakespeare again. “I didn’t really understand it,” Mr. Isaac said, “but I liked it a lot.”

He even developed an infatuation with the film soundtrack to the Zeffirelli “Hamlet.” On an impulse, he auditioned for Juilliard, using a monologue from Shakespeare’s “Henry IV” and arguing about its interpretation with the head of the drama division in the middle of his callback.

Richard Feldman, one of Mr. Isaac’s Juilliard teachers, remembered sensing in him “the best kind of artistic ambition,” adding: “I’m not talking about fame, I’m not talking about fortune. I’m talking about the hunger to be really good.”

At Juilliard, he met Mr. Gold, at the time a directing student. Mr. Gold was immediately struck by Mr. Isaac’s “easy energy and an easy relationship to his talent and having an incredible amount of talent” and a shared belief that “acting shouldn’t look hard,” Mr. Gold said.

The two of them fooled around with some comic scenes from “Hamlet,” making a pact to work together one day on the whole play. They both got “bit by it and obsessed by it,” Mr. Gold said, speaking by phone. Those talks continued, and two years ago, Mr. Isaac signed on, saying he felt he had to do it “before the knees give out.”

“You can only be so old and be upset that your mom remarried,” he said.

Once he’d agreed, Mr. Isaac began reading academic books, watching famous past performances, playing a recording of John Gielgud’s Hamlet “and just listening to the beauty of that man’s voice,” he said. After creative tensions with the production’s original home, Theater for a New Audience, “Hamlet” shifted to the Public Theater, where Mr. Isaac had made his post-Juilliard debut, and dates were set.

But then his mother got sick and his partner, the documentary filmmaker Elvira Lind, got pregnant, and suddenly “there were a lot of things that really connected on a very personal level,” he said. As Mr. Isaac explained, performing has always helped him come to terms with his emotions. “This is how I’m able to function,” he said. “The only way that I’m really able to process stuff is through reflecting it.”

Some of the visual language that he and Mr. Gold settled on — the syringes, the IVs, the PICC lines — make his memories and associations even more visceral. His Hamlet wears rumpled clothes and has a 5 o’clock shadow (if you’ve seen Mr. Isaac’s movies, you know his facial hair is a key to character) to approximate “the look and feel of spending long hours visiting a loved one at the hospital,” he said.

In the first days of rehearsal, Mr. Gold worried “that there would be things in this play that would be such deep triggers that he wouldn’t be able to make it through the show,” he said. But he watched Mr. Isaac use the play’s words “to contextualize what he was going through,” he said.

Mr. Isaac didn’t worry about making a timeworn speech like “To be or not to be” sound new. As soon as he says the words, he is instantly reminded of his personal loss and “the feeling that grief can just make you want to stop,” he said.

At the same time, he never really discussed that personal life in the rehearsal room. “It was always a very subtle thing hovering in the air, ” Mr. Gold said. Instead, he threw himself into experimenting with the role — physically, vocally — and worked on making his colleagues laugh.

Keegan-Michael Key, who plays Hamlet’s pal Horatio, noted that Mr. Isaac, who bought a Ping-Pong table for the rehearsal room, “likes to have fun.” Onstage he’ll often monkey with a pronunciation or arch an eyebrow just to get a rise out of a cast mate.

“He’ll do it on purpose just to keep everyone on their toes,” Mr. Key said. “The more alive it is, the more uncertain it is, the more dynamic it is.”

Mr. Isaac said that performing the play hasn’t felt especially dour. When he comes offstage after four hours he feels energized, he said.

That’s in part because the play isn’t only for his mother. When he acts, he’s also thinking of his 2-month-old son, Eugene, named after her. The baby has Eugenia’s lips, he said, and her hands.

He brought Eugene to the first run-through (“I think some of the more philosophical and theological aspects of the play were above his head,” Mr. Gold joked), and it’s Eugene he thinks of when reciting the “to be” part of the “to be or not to be” soliloquy.

As Mr. Isaac explains, the speech is about dying — that’s the “not to be” part — but it’s also about choosing to go on living. And Mr. Isaac has better reasons to go on than Hamlet does.

“You have a child,” he said, “and you must — you must for their sake — you must say yes to life.”

Source

#oscar isaac #hamlet #the public theater

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bfknj · 7 years

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tags masterpost (?)

I was tagged in a few tag games over the past few days and instead of posting them all separately I decided to just put them all on one! If I tagged you feel free to do any or all of these (including people who tagged me!!) As always, don’t feel any pressure to do any, I just think these are fun and wanted to share :)

- - - - 11 questions tag - - - -

Rules: 1. Make sure to post the rules!! 2. Answer the questions given to you by the tagger. 3. Write 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people

these questions are from @moonmyun !! michaela you had me stRUGGLIN OKAY YOUR QUESTIONS WERE HARD but ily still bless you for the tag you angel :”)

1 who is your bias group? why?

BANGTAN SONYEONDAN AKA MEME SQUAD !!!!!!! honestly they just make me so beyond happy wow holly nobody ever says that about their favs ur original a LOOOT of music is centered around love these days and not to say bts doesn’t do that with a lot of their music but they also tackle a lot of societal issues and I really respect them for that. From 21st century girls w politics, spring day mv and the ferry sinking, suicide in the I need u mv and many other things I feel like they take risks for the sake of portraying what they hold true to their hearts/morals not necessarily what will sell best and I can’t name many other groups who do that as well :( also my boys cute af I love those dweebs IM SO WHIPPED HAH

2 which kpop video do you find the most aesthetically pleasing?

this is hard :(( idk my number one but I really like seventeen hip hop unit’s check in, red velvet’s one of these nights, ladies code’s galaxy, kim lip of loona’s eclipse and crush’s fall ! they don't all match my aesthetic but I feel like they match the songs really well!!! watch them okay 3/5 of them are hELLA UNDERRATED bye

3 if you could instantly learn one choreography, what would you pick?

something by either gfriend or bts?? love whisper or not today or blood sweat tears?? OOOH or red flavor by rv!! tbh though I’m really skinny so my limbs look weird af with a lot of dances rip

4 who do you look up to as a role model (in the kpop community or not)?

there’s no person in particular that really sticks out but I will say I’ve always admired jungkook, and really all trainees for that matter, who leave their families to start training really young because its a process thats hard physically, emotionally and mentally for late teen/early twenties trainees but there’s sO many kids who enter in their pre-teens and idk how they survive also I realized this doesn’t answer your question at all I'm sorry its 1:28 AM I’m just waiting for the DNA mv to drop

5 whose concert would you go to if you could and why?

DAY6 DAY6 DAY6 DAY6 !!!!! THEY INVENTED LIVE SHOWS DONT FIGHT ME ON THIS or shoot maybe dean or crush or heize?? I LOVE TOO MANY TALENTED PEOPLE also I would say bts but although there are countless amazing beautiful armys there are def some crazy scary ones that are known to be horrible at concerts so

6 if you could pick one idol to be best friends with, who would it be and why?

OK YALL IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS A LOT IN MY DAILY LIFE SO S/H TO MICHAELA FOR ASKING ILY either boo seungkwan or ahn heeyeon!! I feel like hani would be so fun to have girl time with bc I feel like we’re really similar in some ways ?? IDK I LOVE HER bUT overall I’d say boo seungkwan because istg we are 100000000% the same person only he has a weenie ok just trust me I am boo and boo is me

7 would you want to be a part of a kpop group if you had the opportunity to be?

I’d absolutely love to be in the entertainment industry and I think the staging, costuming, group dynamics and publicity (variety shows, fan service/interations) in the kpop industry are all really cool but I honestly don't think I have the mental strength to do it lmao idols go through so much and I don’t think I could handle it regardless of how much I enjoy singing/dancing/performing etc.

8 what languages do you speak, and which do you want to learn?

english and some spanish??? I understand a lot because quite a bit of my family speaks it but my conversational skills have gone downhill recently because I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to practice :( with that said, I’d like to be fluent in spanish and - BEFORE YOU COME FOR ME READ IT ALL OK - I’d like to learn korean BECAUSE!!!!! when I was little before I moved I would go to a farmers market by my house and a lot of the older ladies there spoke korean and little holly though it sounded so pretty and I always wanted to chat w them ok THATS WHY I’m not a creepy koreaboo this has been a thing since before I even knew what a kpop was ok bye

9 what song cheers you up when you’re sad?

fire by bts bc I get hella turnt to that song its a pROBLEM also jackpot by block b, baby/puss in boots by astro, chained up by vixx, not today/bst by bts, knock knock by twice, i think I love you by sonamoo THE LIST GOES ON I HAVE A WHOLE PLAYLIST OK

10 what things do you associate with your bias?

dimples!! pretty hands, closing one eye in selcas, ootds, happiness so cheesy ik sORRY, ryan, studying, awkward dancing, open mouth laughs, second hand embarrassment, sentimental rants

11 what’s your favourite thing to do in your free time?

cry over namjoon tbh I’m one of those people who is constantly listening to music so I’m always doing that and singing along regardless of if its free time or not HAH then I really like reading and catching up on my youtube subscriptions

my questions!

what is your dream job?

favorite book of all time?

what is your current fashion like and what is your dream fashion?

if your best friend was cloned, how would you know which one of the two was your best friend?

what song got you into kpop?

which idol do you think is most similar to you?

favorite kpop lyrics?

if given the opportunity to collaborate with any group/soloist of your choice, who would you choose and why?

what is your favorite physical and character trait of your ult?

which underrated groups/soloists do you believe deserve more recognition? any song recs?

do you read fanfics? if so, what are your favorites?

- - - - song title game - - - -

I was tagged by @kihani, your song choices were 12/10

rules: spell you your url with kpop songs and tag ten people! (all of these happen to by song recs too so listen nd be happy friends)

mysterious - hello venus

i think i love you? - sonamoo (a fav ok listen pls)

life in color - beenzino

knock - knk

jelly - hotshot

only u - daze

out of sorts - vixx

night rather than day - exid

she’s a baby - zico

- - - - get to know me tag! - - - -

1ST RULE: Tag 10 people you want to get to know better.

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true. tagged by @sleepysugarmoon, thank you friend!! APPEARANCE: I am 5'7" or taller I wear glasses (or contact lenses) I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces PERSONALITY: I love meeting new people People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it ABILITY: I can sing well I can play an instrument I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well I have a good memory I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch HOBBIES: I enjoy playing sports I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month Fandoms are my #1 passion I do or have done martial arts EXPERIENCES: I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol I have scored the winning goal in a sports game I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts RELATIONSHIPS: I’m in a relationship I have a crush on a celebrity I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend MY LIFE: I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live in the United States There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone RANDOM SHIT: I have breakdanced I have had a teacher with the last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages I have made a new friend in the past year

tagging some mutuals bc ily and why do you even follow me I'm a wreck tbh OK i tag: @kihani, @21jd, @lapatronakim, @94seulqi, @gayoongi, @springdqy, @medina-kim, @15minss, @je0n, @cottontae, @taebaeul, @booty-baekery, @lalisl, @babekhyun, @voidpjm and anyone else who wants to try any or all of these!!

#i love tags yayayay #don't feel like you have to do it!!#tags

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