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#crossing my fingers the clinic is closed tomorrow & the roads open at the end of the day so i can go home
mxgyver · 1 year
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today has been… a Day™️ to say the least
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softbiker · 4 years
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Born to Run - Chapter 17
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Warnings: angst, alcohol abuse, anxiety, heartbreak, police violence (potentially triggering encounter, please heed the warning), language
Word count: 3.2k
A/N: Well, here it is. All I can do is say...I’m sorry. But I promise I’ll fix it. I decided to go ahead and post this tonight because I haven’t gotten to write much lately, I’ve been working constantly and now I’ve got a second job - so I just love getting to write and post when I can. Thank you for sticking with this story. It’s almost a year old now! As always, let me know what you think!!
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“I dunno, Mom - I mean it’s not like I planned this-”
“Well, no, honey,” her mother huffed over the phone. “It doesn’t seem like you planned any of it.”
Y/N winced at the sting of her words but didn’t argue. With her phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder, she grabbed another stack of underwear and socks from the dresser and turned back towards her bed, where a suitcase lay open. A few pairs of jeans and a couple of sweaters were already folded inside. Off to one side, her toiletry bag was stuffed full - skincare and toothpaste and hair products she might not even use but tossed in anyway in her flustered packing frenzy. Her grip on the socks in her hands tightened to keep her fingers from trembling.
It had been 2 days since her fight - breakup - with Bucky. For the first 24 hours, she fell into an anxious, disorganized catatonia; she shuffled from room to room in her house, pacing and biting her nails, opening cabinets at random then promptly closing them. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her thigh, and her heart raced at a breakneck pace. If a single clear thought managed to arrange itself from the scattered clutter of her panic, it was only Bucky’s face, red-eyed and tear-stained as he pleaded with her. After splashing some water on her face and changing into sweatpants, she had put herself to bed, settling in for the longest night of her life. She tossed and turned, hearing the minutes tick by from the clock on the wall. At around 3 am, she threw off the covers in heartbroken frustration and stalked to the kitchen, setting the kettle on for tea and raiding her cabinets for any treats she could find. Thank God she still had that fancy dark chocolate she’d gotten last time she went to the city; it was the only thing her cupboards could provide in the way of comfort food. Armed with a steaming cup of lavender chamomile and an entire half-pound of dark chocolate she settled back under the covers and grabbed the T.V. Remote from her nightstand. If nothing else, she prayed Netflix could distract her, fill her mind with different faces, different voices - drown out the one that wouldn’t leave her.
She managed to doze off towards the end of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, tearful confessions playing in the background of her not-quite-dreams, and woke just before 7. A cold, clear morning greeted her through the window, the air in her room practically frigid, but something in it settled her. Quieted the static that had blurred out all thought since Bucky walked through her door the day before. With a deep breath, she threw off the covers and swung her feet out of bed, leaving the tea cup and chocolate wrapper to deal with later. It was her running shoes she reached for.
An hour and 10 kilometers later, she jogged back up her front porch steps, breathing heavy and feeling light. Her cheeks were charted from the wind, and her nose was running, but the grip on her heart had shaken loose. And as she clambered into the shower, stinging hot and billowing steam, new thoughts began to string together - thoughts for tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that.
Still in sweatpants, hair dripping, she’d scribbled down a list while she sipped her coffee. Names, to-do’s, a seed of a plan. In order, she phoned the clinic, her best friend, her residency program coordinator - and now, at last, her mom.
“I’m driving up to stay with Kat for a few days - maybe a week,” Y/N sighed, ignoring her mom’s comment. “Just to…clear my head, you know?”
“Sure, sure,” her mom agreed. “Though I don’t know why you couldn’t come here…I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving-”
“Mom.” She closed her eyes, one hand settled on her hip. “It’s not a vacation.”
“No, sweetie, but it doesn’t hurt to come let your mom take care of you…”
Knuckles pressed to her eyelids, Y/N sat down on the edge of her bed. The old mattress creaked, as it had every night she slept in it for the last several months.
“I-I just,” she licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. “I need to be alone for a little bit, Mom. Once I’ve got it all figured out, I’ll let you know. And maybe…who knows, maybe I can come visit soon.”
“Sweetheart.” The voice on the phone is tired, resigned. “Why do you always try to do these things by yourself? You don’t have to be alone.”
Y/N’s throat tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants. She breathed slowly, warding back the lump that threatened to close off her voice.
“I’m sorry, Mom. But this time I do.”
**********
“You’ve got to go in there and wake him up-”
“I’m not doing it - I wouldn’t touch him with a 10 foot pole when he’s like this.”
“Well, someone’s got to. We’re bugging out in just a couple days-”
Heavy-eyed, and feeling like death warmed over, Bucky stirred at the sound of the voices outside his bedroom. Harsh winter sunlight burst through the blinds over his window; even before he opened his eyes it hurt. Something throbbed inside his skull, and his tongue felt thick and heavy in his parched mouth. Why the hell did he feel this bad? He couldn’t remember the last time he drank like this, to the point of blacked out nausea. His stomach roiled as he turned over, and he felt far too old to be drinking like there was no tomorrow, like he hated himself-
And then he remembered.
Y/N.
Suddenly he had no interest in getting up, getting water, getting something that would settle his stomach. He covered his face with his hands, fingers pressing firm against his eyelids and blocking out any light that came through. It was hot in his room, the combination of heating and a pile of blankets that someone had tucked him in with, but he didn’t move the covers, choosing instead to sweat underneath them.
How had he fucked up so badly? The best thing that ever happened to him - and now she was gone, baby, gone. It would’ve been alright, maybe, if Natasha had allowed him to talk to Y/N himself, but-
Natasha. Just the thought of her set his blood on fire, and he sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open - only to immediately regret it as a stronger wave of nausea threatened to claim him. He quickly folded himself in half and put his head between his knees. When his head finally stopped spinning, he propped his elbows up against his knees and threaded his hands through his hair.
Already, he felt a thread of shame and guilt tugging at his gut. It wasn’t right to blame Natasha. He knew that. The lies were all his own; all Nat had done was reveal the truth.
But, God, the look on Y/N’s face - she had never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning when she was afraid he might be a criminal. It chilled him - right down to the marrow of his bones - the cold anger, the mask of disgust and disinterest that she wore to hide the way she hurt. And she did - he could see her pain cracking the ice in her eyes, no matter how she tried to hide it.
He hated himself for it.
A soft knock at the door, and Steve’s blond head poked in.
“Oh,” he said, eyebrows jumping in surprise. “You’re awake.”
Bucky’s scowl deepened as Steve and Sam kindly let themselves into his room and took up post at the foot of his bed.
“Yeah - thanks to you two. You wouldn’t know how to whisper if your life depended on it, Wilson.”
To his credit, Sam didn’t respond - merely rolled his eyes and cast an exasperated glance at Steve. With a sigh, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes down on the soft blue quilt Bucky had haphazardly wrinkled during the night.
“Look, I understand that you’re really upset right now.” Steve’s voice was soft, barely more than a murmur. “I know…I know how much she meant to you.”
Bucky felt his eyes starting to burn as he stared at his friends, and he hastily scrubbed at them with his palms, sniffing.
“But,” Steve continued, licking his lip. “We’ve got our marching orders - we’re on standby to pull out any day now. We - I - can’t have you going on binders, AWOL for 24 hours, and then stumbling in here piss drunk at 3 in the morning.”
“We thought you were dead, Barnes,” Sam added, clenching his jaw. “We’re on fuckin’ suicide watch, man. You’re gonna drink yourself to death over a breakup? Huh?”
Growling, Bucky reached behind himself for a pillow and hurled it at Sam’s head.
“Shut the fuck up-”
“No, Buck, Sam is right.” Steve’s brows were knitted together tightly. His eyes were sympathetic, but the rest of him was unflinching as stone. “You can’t do that again. What if you’d run yourself off the road, or gotten hit by a car?” Bucky scoffed, but Steve didn’t back down. Raising his voice he went on. “No, I really want you to think - would you be better off dead? Is that what you want? Is that what she would want?”
Eyes squeezed shut, Bucky saw her face right before him once again, her smiles, the way she used to look at him. The panic in her eyes during his parking lot showdown with Rumlow, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on something, how sleepy her eyes were in the mornings - each little piece of her, precious secrets he had tucked away in the hidden corners of his heart. He had thought, dreamed, that he had a lifetime to collect them all, fit all her parts together like a puzzle one piece at a time, and love every moment of it. Now, though. These lone pieces are all he has left, and they will never be enough.
What did she want? He knew only one thing for sure - that she was the only person who could say.
“I don’t think it matters to her either way, punk.”
**********
A few miles outside of town, just past the last lonely gas station, was the exit ramp to the interstate. The road had seen better years; the pavement was pitted with potholes and cracks, haphazardly patched with uneven lumps of asphalt that left drivers weaving between lanes and wondering which would do more damage to their tires. But, since this part of the state saw less traffic than other areas, infrastructure money was slow to trickle down towards repair and reconstruction.
Y/N had driven this road a handful of times - as she moved into town, and then when she had taken the drive a couple of times to visit her friends in the city. It was desolate enough to be a slightly depressing drive; nothing but scorched fields for miles on either side of the road, and the steep ditches that banked it on either side were overgrown with wispy stalks of dead grass. Overhead, a grey and overcast sky shadowed everything, promising a winter day best spent indoors.
She tuned in and out of a true crime podcast while she drove, hardly seeing the road in front of her. Her mind was too far gone on the events of the past few days - and everything she had to do with the coming ones. But there was something comforting here, in the grip of the wheel in her hands, a travel mug of coffee still steaming in the cupholder, an open road ahead of her. She felt…awake, present. Bruised, but not broken. And ready to get back up.
Of course, it shook her when a cop car pulled out of the overgrowth on the shoulder of the exit ramp, putting on speed to keep up with her. Mentally she reviewed her driving - still only 5 over the speed limit, her lights were on and working, her tags were in date. They had no reason to pull her over, she rationalized.
And they didn’t. The car stayed right behind her for the next 10 miles, quietly driving at her speed, keeping a couple car lengths’ distance between. No flashing lights, no sirens.
So why were her palms sweating?
After 20 miles, the sirens finally started blaring, blue and red flashes blinking in her rearview mirror. Despite being raised to respect the law, she felt nervous as she glanced back at the car, easing her foot off the accelerator, but not quite braking to pull over. She bit her lip, hesitating another few seconds as the alarm grew louder behind her. Her stomach clenched nervously.
Stop freaking out. You’re just worried about getting a ticket. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she scolded herself and gently pulled her car over to the side of the road, careful not to get too far into the muddy grass along the shoulder. Fingers fidgeting nervously on the steering wheel, she watched as the officer got out of his car and strolled up to her window at a leisurely pace. His head was shaved, and he wore dark mirrored sunglasses, in spite of the gloomy light of the day. As she rolled down her window, she squinted at his face, trying to recognize him from the adrenaline-blurred memories of the night Bucky killed Brock Rumlow - but the low slope of his cheekbones, the clean-shave, the firm-set frown are all unfamiliar to her.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he greeted her, one hand on his hip. It drew her eyes down towards his gun. “License and registration please.”
Instinctively, she nodded and reached towards her wallet lying in the passenger seat to dig out her license. The officer was silent, propping one hand against her car while he waited; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears and willed herself to calm down.
Clearing her throat, she gathered her courage and spoke up.
“Excuse me, officer-” He barely glanced up from where he was perusing her car registration. “Why did you pull me over?”
He looked up at her fully at the question, shifting his stance and licking his upper lip.
“One of your tail lights is out,” he said, shoving her papers back through the window. “That’s a real safety issue.”
“My tail light…?” Her tail light - which had been changed only a month ago. She knew, because Bucky did it himself. He had always been worried about her safety; every time she was going somewhere without him, he did a full inspection of the car, testing brakes and changing the oil, going over every last inch of it and then filling up the tank with gas before she left. Last time, she’d sat in the garage nursing a cup of cider as she watched him fiddle with the lights…
She shook her head to lose the thoughts of him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but my tail lights are working just fine, I just had the bulbs changed.” She leaned forward in the seat, peering up at the officer. “Are you sure that there’s something wrong with them?”
Frown deepening even further, he crossed his arms and widened his stance.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get out of the car?”
“Excuse me?”
“Get out of the car, ma’am.”
“What? Why?”
“Please, just calm down and get out of the vehicle.”
“But-” her protest broke off as he shifted his stance back, one hand inching towards the mace in his belt. She glanced at her phone, sitting in the unoccupied cupholder with her aux cable connected to it. Her fingers twitched - for a microsecond, she contemplated the very bad idea of reaching for it, refusing to get out of the car, calling-calling…someone. Someone.
But surely, if she cooperated, this would all be worked out with just a minor headache, or maybe a ticket, she reassured herself. She repeated it in her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, climbing out of the car carefully, her hands held out to her sides where they could be seen.
Once she was out of her car, the officer took a step forward and pushed on her door, shutting it with a resounding click.
“Okay, I’m out of the car…”
“Turn around and put your hands on the hood.”
“I’m sorry, what?” she exclaimed, hearing her voice hitch in alarm. Her eyes cast up the road and back towards the exit ramps - there were no other cars in sight. No witnesses. “Am I under arrest?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, out of patience. His hand went to rest on his gun now. “Turn around and put your fucking hands on the hood of the car.”
Her fists curled and she stood her ground. She willed away her thoughts of Bucky.
“No. I haven’t broken the law, you can’t arrest me for having a tail light out-”
In a blink, his gun was up and trained directly on her.
“Put your hands on the fucking car!” he yelled, loud enough to make her wince at the volume. Her thoughts tunneled on the barrel of the gun aimed at her chest.
Wordlessly, she turned and planted her hands on the cold metal, shivering in just her sweatshirt, her winter coat tossed in the passenger seat while she was driving. The tips of her fingers went numb and her eyes watered, stung by the wind. Her dry tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth - if she tried to swallow she’d choke.
“Who are you?” Her voice shook, but she managed the words. Scared and alone, but she’d fight, goddammit. She’d fight. He would want her to fight. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”
“Shut up.” A firm, cold point of pressure between her shoulder blades as he pressed the gun against her back. There was a faint buzzing sound and then the rustle of fabric; when he spoke again, it clearly wasn’t to her. “Yes, sir?” He answered his phone. “Yes - we’re on schedule. I have the package. Will confirm when its secure and en route.”
Her heart raced wildly and her mind went white with fear. What was he talking about? This had to be some kind of mistake, a misunderstanding-
Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, the butt of his gun came down against the back of her head; her vision exploded in stars, and then faded to black as she slumped against her car. Barely conscious, she felt herself being dragged away down the road, lifted and shoved into the backseat of the squad car, unceremoniously dumped with her face down against the cold leather. The engine hummed to life; a seatbelt clicked - not hers.
“Sir?” He spoke again from the front seat. “Package is secured.”
She wondered if Bucky was coming to find her. He would, she told herself. He’d come.
And then, nothing.
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nicka-nell · 4 years
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I'm Kiyoomi Sakusa and I'm a germaphobe - Chapter 22: Where are you?
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Words: 1.465
Warning: manga spoiler, angst?
Chapter 21 - I’m fine without you... not     | Masterlist
(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = last name | (e/c) = eye colour | (h/c) = hair colour
“So tell me, (l/n) sensei... Do you have plans today after your shift?" asks Wakami when she sees (y/n) leaving her treatment room. (y/n) greets her with a smile and slows down her pace so that the young secretary can catch up and stand next to her.
“No, I did not. But I don’t think I’m gonna do much. My shift ends in two hours, and tomorrow it starts at night. So I’ll be back in the hospital at midnight. This really is a mess right now, isn’t it? Do you know why so many doctors are sick right now?" (y/n) sighs, because she knows that even today she will hardly come to her sleep.
“Yes, that's right... I don’t know what’s going on but I heard that Sugishi-sensei and Toshi-sensei met and that there is more going on between them. But I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe one of them was sick and infected the other." she ponders and look over at (y/n).
“Is that so?” escapes these words from her. If she remembers correctly, both of these doctors have their partners, who are also surgeons, here in the hospital. It’s like a bad medical show. Both doctors cheat and now four doctors sit at home and have gastrointestinal or the vulture knows what...
Sighing, (y/n) shakes her head. “They are all stupid... But, well, I need to see a patient who’s supposed to be going to Sugishi-sensei. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow in the morning. See you then Wakami-san.” (y/n) says goodbye to the young woman and goes to her new patient.
With all the stress at work, she doesn’t have time to lose her mind about Kiyoomi. After her shift, she walks out the hospital door to the outside. All the tension falls off her as she closes her eyes and breathes deeply. The fresh, flowery air soothes her and the gentle wind blows her hair backwards out of her face.
“(y/n)!” a familiar voice is shaking her out of her thoughts. Questioning, she looks left and right until she discovers the troubled redhead. “Hinata?” she asks astonished when she sees his desperate look. “What's the matter?” She takes a step towards him and puts her hands on his shoulders.
“Kiyoomi... You have to.... You need to see Kiyoomi...” He’s still trying to catch his breath, because he’s been running all the way to the clinic.
That name makes her blood cold. She feels how everything is tied up in her and how the lump in her throat tries to find its way out. “Hinata, Kiyoomi and I are not a couple.” she tries to explain it to him without starting to crying.
“I know that... but please, (y/n), you’re the only one that he let get so close to him. You’re the only one he trusted. Even if he didn’t really see it that way. Please help him out. I went to see him today because he wasn’t at practice and didn’t answer my calls. Yesterday he had a date with a woman and..."
A date with another woman? Swallowing, (y/n) tries to suppress her tears. He really quickly forgot her...
“And... I don’t know what happened, but when I was with him today, he opened the door for me, and he looked like a zombie. Hands bloody, skin cracked and blisters all over his body. He didn’t look like that yesterday. (y/n) please help him!" His voice is shaky, because he is very worried about his teammate and friend.
(y/n) can’t believe what she’s hearing. What on earth happened to him? “Where do I have to go? Home to him?" it comes out of her before she can think about what she just said. “Yes...” Still out of breath he looks at (y/n) worried. Nodding she goes past Hinata and makes her way to Kiyoomi.
Each step in his direction pulls the thread around her heart even tighter. She knows that she still has feelings for him but through the work and distraction with her brother, Wakami and especially Osamu, she was able to skillfully suppress these feelings. But now that she’s standing in front of his house, her heart is beating like crazy. With a shaky hand she presses the bell.
But no one opens it. “Damn it Kiyoomi! Open that stupid door, you idiot!" she yells at him and kick the door. Again she rings. Once, twice, three times.... “Damn it Kiyoomi..." she sobs softly and leans her head against the door. Why doesn’t he open it for her? “Damn Kiyoomi you idiot! This is the last time I’m gonna say this! Open that stupid fucking door or I’ll kick it in and pull you out of your house by your hair!” she shouts loudly.
“Excuse me? May I ask who you are?" Astonished, (y/n) turns around, only to see a completely strange face. “And who are you?” With her eyebrow raised, she crosses her arms. “Oh how rude... I am Motoya Komori. Sakusa's cousin." he laughs embarrassed and scratches the back of his head.
Her eyes are getting big. Maybe he has the key to his house. Maybe he can tell her what’s wrong with him. “Nice to meet you. I am (y/n) (l/n). I used to-" She wants to finish her sentence right now, but she gets stopped by Motoya. “(y/n)? (y/n) like the surgeon (y/n)?” he asks in astonishment. Nodding, she looks at him with a questioning look.
How does he know her? Was he a patient of hers? No, she’d remember that. “You helped Kiyoomi with his fear, right? Oh man, that’s really great that I meet you here! I was on the bus, and I was supposed to go to my girlfriend. But then I saw Kiyoomi. At first, I didn’t recognize him because he looked completely disfigured, but because of his sports jacket I was able to decipher him as Kiyoomi. How likely is it that he suffered a relapse?"
Still slightly confused, she shakes her head. “I don’t know... such a relapse can happen quickly. I mean, for a dry alcoholic, even a praline with a small amount of alcohol can cause them to get addicted again. But I don’t know what it’s like to have a phobia. Whether it’s the same there." Thoughtfully she puts her index finger on her lips.
“So it could be that Kiyoomi has relapsed because of the touching of the woman he met yesterday?" No, she can’t imagine that. “Kiyoomi and I had more than a few touches. We slept together, and he really had no problem touching me. I don’t think it’s because of that." With big eyes and red cheeks she looks at Motoya. Oh God, did she really say those last words out loud...?
“Please forget what I said... Oh how embarrassing..." Ashamed, she strikes her hand against her forehead and looks to the ground. “I don’t think I’ll forget this but I’m trying. Then... why did you leave? Then why didn’t you stay with him?", “Stayed with him? After all, he was the one who left my house and thought that everything that happened should be forgotten or rather left behind.” she answers him quickly and looks at him with narrow eyes.
"Oh? That wasn’t you? Oh, man... Kiyoomi is such an incredibly stupid person... Listen... Kiyoomi talked about you way too much for him to forget you. I thought you were the one who left him with a broken heart. Kiyoomi is really a moron..." he mumbles to himself. “What about you? You wanted to see him? Like I said, I saw him outside. He went to his parents' house. I wanted to run after him, but when I saw you here, I thought I’d ask who you were first." He continues seriously.
“Where is his parents' house?" she asks him in a firm voice. “When you go down the road, turn right at the first intersection, then straight on to the next intersection. There you go then to the left and then just along the path until you see a big house. It is quite pompous. Has several floors and a large plot." Thankfully, she says goodbye to him and walks past him as he holds her by the wrist.
“(y/n)... It was nice to meet you, and I hope this encounter won’t be our last one. So please help my cousin."
Chapter 23 - Home at the Dragon
Help for my new story Atsumu or Osamu   
Taglist: @kara-grayson04​ @suna-allie​ @pleasemelafook-outta-ere​
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bubmyg · 5 years
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Could you maybe write something about being Yoongi’s girlfriend and the both of you are in college, and usually the reader would just walk home from classes, but she’s not feeling too well and therefor calls Yoongi, asking if he can pick her up, and then queue Yoongi being soft and loving towards her because he loves her and wants to take care of her when she’s sick? If you do, then thank you 😍😘❤️🧡💛
genre/warnings: college!au, fluff fluff and more fluff, part seven hundred of yoongi being the sweetest ever,part of the “ps i love you” series linked on my masterlist
word count: 1,444
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The driver had misjudged the edge of the curb, the front tire closest propped up on the sloping slab of concrete just enough to tilt the bus to the side. It didn’t matter much to the suspension of the vehicle, anyway, as it bobbled back and forth with the influx of students clambering aboard. It was a curly haired man clutching a maroon laptop case to his chest that was stopped before stepping inside, the inside of the bus at full capacity at four-thirty on a Thursday where rain was just starting to mist across the surface of campus. 
The man frowned but he stepped away with a knowing nod, allowing the bus doors to fold to a close and for the vehicle to pull away with a generous thud. 
You shared his sentiment as you scanned the crowd from underneath the hood of your rain jacket, one that barely seemed to garner a dent from the mouthful of students the previous bus had engulfed. You decided on the probability of two more packed buses before you’d get a minuscule space, hanging onto an overhead bar with the same grip of trying to keep your lunch, two nibbles of a turkey sandwich and a sip of chicken broth, in your stomach. 
Best case scenario was two more buses. The likely option was three. And the tears misting behind your eyelids disagreed with both options, tears that appeared because of the sting of the wind and not because of your sore throat and running nose and throbbing headache and the blur of Yoongi’s contact pulled up on your phone. 
“Hi!” There was a distance rustling and then Yoongi’s voice came clearer, chirpy and sweet and eliciting an entire new wave of tears behind your preexisting ones, “Hi, how was class?”
“Fine,” Your voice broke, rough with the tear that lipped over your eyelid and iced down the curve of your nice, “…fine.”
He hummed and his response came out an octave softer, “That’s good. Do you—”
“W-why are…” You blinked, hard, backside hitting the wired plastic of the benches outside the academic building you’d just left. Another bus had approached as had another wave of students. Four buses. Black dots spotted through your vision, “What were we talking about?”
“You called me—” More rustling, the sound of clinking metal and Yoongi’s voice worried back to a louder volume, “—love, where are you?”
“Outside…outside the physics building,” The black dots had disappeared, “Waiting on a bus.”
“Waiting on me,” Yoongi corrected and you heard the tell tale sign of his car starting, “I’m coming to get you. Sit tight.”
His tire caught the curb like the one of the bus had, his car pulled up a space above where the second (fifth?) bus would come to collect more students. The remaining crowd turned toward the sound of his door slamming, black t-shirt immediately wetting to his skin as he hopped up onto the sidewalk to stride for you. 
“Hey,” Yoongi greeted, a tender syllable that trilled up on the end as his arm caught your waist when you stood to meet him. The hand on the small of your back slid upward, nudging and collecting your backpack across his own shoulders as wet lips met the apple of your cheek. He reiterated his question from earlier, “Class good?”
You repeated your answer, guilty through wet tipped eyelashes as the concern in his eyes became shadowed by the fall of wet fringe, “Fine.”
He coaxed you forward, welcoming the press of your face against his chest, “Quiz go okay?”
You hummed as he retched open the door from you, hand not leaving your stature until you were settled on the upholstery. Your backpack hit the space behind you and you barely formed the teasing thought of scolding him for harming your laptop before he was in the driver’s seat and pulling out onto the road as the third (sixth?) bus curbed onto the sidewalk. 
What had been sweat beading under the fine shards of rain coating your skin seemed to turn to ice under the gentle blow fo Yoongi’s AC and you tucked your arms tight across your chest. Wordlessly did his fingers fiddle at a dial, palm pressing into the steering wheel to turn away from the traffic. 
“Taehyung just turned the heat back on so the house is nice and warm.”
“You aren’t taking me back to mine?”
“I wasn’t going to,” He slowed before the turnoff for his street, “I can—”
“Do you have medicine?”
Yoongi’s gums flashed in your peripheral and he turned onto his street, “…and lots of canned soup.”
“And you?”
His smile lessened into just a press of his lips into his cheeks, gentle eyes crossing your features when yours fluttered shut, curling tighter into your wet jacket. The ignition rolled over and he let the keys dangle limply between the part of his thighs. 
“You definitely have me, angel.”
He was sweating by the time he’d hauled you in laps around the inside of the house, up three flights of stairs to dry your hair with a chipped purple hair dryer he’d owned since high school and shove your head through the hoodie he’d worn to his eight-thirty that morning, down two flights of stairs to the kitchen where he shuffled around Jeongguk making ramen and gave him a reprimanding hip butt every time he reached out to tease you by pinching your cheeks, up a story to the hall closet next to Jimin’s open door to collect extra blankets and serve an interrogation from the concerned blonde, back up to the third story where you and a full tummy of tomato soup of dry crackers flopped onto Yoongi’s made duvet.
He left you to fight with his sheets and returned with a palm full of pills consistent with chalk to you curled in a ball underneath whatever you’d managed to wiggle free from. The pills clicked together and rolled to opposite ends of his bedside table when he pressed them down, crawling to you to press his nose against your clammy neck. 
“Class tomorrow?” Yoongi mumbled into your hair. He knew the answer, anyway. 
You shook your head, “Just lab.”
“Stay here,” It wasn’t a question and your lack of response served as your answer. “We can go to the clinic?”
“I’m alright.”
“If your fever isn’t broken by dinner tomorrow, we’ll go,” His palm danced over your hip underneath the sheets, pressing through your knuckles to lace your fingers together at your tummy, “Deal?”
You rutted back against his chest, relaxing into his stature while your heart raced between your ribs. Softly, “Joon’s a med student, can’t we just ask him?”
Yoongi’s laugh was deep against your spine, brushing at your ear as his lips kissed at your neck, “I can ask him for some over the counter recommendations, if you want. But he doesn���t have a secret stash of prescription cold medication in his room, believe it or not.”
“Have you checked?”
He shifted until you were on your back with him arched over you, fingers still twisted in yours as the tip of his nose pressed into yours. “I know you’re kidding,” He waned quietly, soft caramel irises black in the dimness of his room, “but I’m worried about you.”
You blinked and your heart swelled in it’s rapid rate, “I’m sorry.”
He kissed your lips until you pressed the heel of your palm into his shoulder, mumbling something about him catching your disease. He instead busied his lips with the juncture of your throat, tightening his grip on your hand and waist. 
“Don’t want you to be sorry. Just want you to take care of yourself.”
You focused on the wet of his pouted mouth relaxing your taut muscles, speaking only again when the familiar bead of sweat from earlier began to trickle across your hairline, “I’m trying, but someone is suffocating me.”
Yoongi’s lips curled against your skin and he swung a leg over your waist, heel digging into your hip to drag you against him. He argued, “I’m helping to break your fever,” 
“I didn’t realize you changed your major to pre-med.”
“If I can cure you, I might.”
You turned your head to look at him, nose wrinkling as his lips met your chin, “I’m like a parasite, you can’t get rid of me.”
Yoongi’s eyes were seven shades of chocolate fond, seeming to melt around his dilated pupil as pliable cheeks pulled back into something gummy, voice so tender, you forgot that you’d just suggested your attachment to him was something like ringworm. 
“I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”
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mermaider00 · 5 years
Note
Do you think you could write a little something in that human ventor au
Oh yes yes! This snippet is from my human!Ventor AU where Lotor moves to a beach town to escape his family and meets a sweet and quirky girl named Ven’tar. Enjoy
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The island was hot, humid, and sunny. It was like that all year and the only season that really mattered was hurricane season, but that consistency was a breath of fresh air to Lotor. Hot, humid, and sunny - with the occasional rain and wind storms - was easier to manage than four seasons in the city. Four seasons at home. Four seasons with his strict father and his distant mother and the life they’d tried to mold for him since the day he entered the world as a quiet baby. Packing his bags and leaving it all behind was the best decision he’d ever made. The four seasons in the city had given him loneliness, depression, paranoia, and nightmares. 
The island had set him free. 
It had taken him some time to adjust to island life, to begin again with the vast inheritance he’d taken from Zarkon Daibazaal, but at thirty-three years old, Lotor Sincline thought it was time to take what was his as he left his family forever and changed his last name. Quintessence Island was his new home now, though it had been a rough start in a brand new world where no one knew who he was. He’d used his money to buy a house on the beach and open Oriande Books, which did surprisingly well on an island that catered to vacationers all year round. He met new people when the locals had been very curious about the handsome new resident of their island, had adjusted to the weather, made connections. Lived his life with peace now, as peaceful as the rolling waves of the sea that were right outside his front door a short walk away from town. 
Lotor steered his dark blue jeep, the salty air whipping through his long hair the color of gray stone he’d inherited from his mother. He’d tied it back into a braid for fear of terrible knots from the openness of his vehicle, but it felt good to fly through the air, to see the ocean on his left. To drive to a home that belonged solely to him. Acxa was manning the shop so he could head back to the big house and work on the paperwork end of book selling in his office. The sky was bright blue, the road was clear. A group of surfers were running towards the waves on the beach. 
His foot went to the brake when he noticed a moving black creature right in the middle of the road. 
Lotor stopped the jeep, put it in park. No one was around on the roads, and if they needed to pass him, they simply would without a care. It was more important to slow everyone down anyway until he removed the animal from the street. Someone close to him now wouldn’t appreciate it if he left the poor thing to get run over by a careless driver. With boots crunching on the asphalt, Lotor approached the squirmy black bundle. He stopped, looked down. 
A kitten, he saw. A very tiny, black kitten left all alone on the street. 
Instantly he bent to pick it up. He checked it for fleas, for burns from the hot road. A boy kitten, he noticed as well. Lotor cradled him to his chest, then looked around for a mother cat. He even waited a moment or two as the kitten mewed against him. 
“Well,” he said to the tiny fur ball that was digging its tiny claws into his white shirt. “I can’t just leave you here. The evil gulls might take you.” 
The kitten let out a meep. 
Lotor smiled, though he was unsure about caring for such a small kitten who looked young enough that it might still need its mother. His legs were so tiny, he hadn’t made it fully across the street. Holding him close, Lotor climbed back into the jeep. Instantly he reached for his cell phone. He didn’t know how to take care of a kitten, and his home was closer than the local vet clinic. 
He called the best person he knew to tell him what he should do. And she answered on the second ring. 
“Hi, handsome,” she said. 
His smile was immediate. “I found a cat, Ven. A kitten. He was in the middle of the road.” 
He heard a very audible gasp through the phone. “Is he okay? Let me talk to him.” 
Lotor shook his head. She said the strangest things sometimes. “Who gave you your job at the zoo? He can’t talk to you, Ven’tar, he’s a cat. A tiny one.” 
“What’s he saying?” 
“He’s...” Lotor looked down in his lap, trying to keep the kitten in the cradle of his shirt. “Meeping.” 
“Meeping,” she repeated, and he could picture her nodding. “My shift is almost up. I’ll stop by the store to get him a few things and then I’ll meet you at your place.” 
“No, Ven, I can’t keep him, don’t buy him things--” 
He sighed. She’d already disconnected. 
Ven’tar Quinn, the quirkiest woman he’d ever met in his life. A local of the island who worked at Kompassia Zoo tending to the animals, and his first real friend. More than friends? Lotor wondered as he remembered the night of his first hurricane and how she’d come to help board up his house and ride out the storm with him. The power had gone out and there were candles and darkness and they had been bored and she had been lovely... 
Ven didn’t talk about that night, or the next morning when she’d stretched out in his bed as naked as the day she’d been born. He figured it had been a one time thing. Maybe it was. 
Or maybe it wasn’t, he thought as he pulled up to his big house. 
It wasn’t long until he heard her feet scampering up to his door, letting herself inside in her flip flops and her breezy green sundress and a couple of shopping bags in her hands. Her oddly cut black hair was tousled from the sea breeze and her green eyes were wild as they searched for a little lost kitten. 
“Oh, precious baby. Sweet, sweet precious baby,” she cooed as she scooped him up from the small blanket Lotor had set him on. Ven had a way with animals that would never cease to amaze him, and already the kitten was softly purring against her. “Who left you in the street? Who? Lotor defended you, didn’t he? He kept you safe, he’s a good cat daddy already, isn’t he?” 
He sighed. “Hello, Ven’tar.” 
“He doesn’t have fleas,” Ven said, more to herself than to him as she inspected the kitten’s belly and black fur. “His paws looked a little burned, but some good recovery time in a comfy house will heal them right up. I think he’d old enough to try a little tuna I brought for him. He’s hungry,” she said to Lotor, meeting his blue eyes. “Can you fix him something while I love on him some more? He’s been through a lot.” 
Ven’tar loved animals more than she liked people, but it seemed he’d become the one exception to that rule. Knowing she was now lost to the kitten, Lotor spooned out a little tuna in the kitchen, filled a small bowl with some cold water. Every now and then he would glance over at Ven, at the way the skirt of her sundress swished around her thighs, or the delicate way her hands cradled the black kitten. He was a man who had run away from all his previous connections, had wanted nothing more than to live a very quiet and relationship-free life on an island where he could be alone and do what he wanted. 
But he liked having her around. He really liked... her. A lot. She was like a rainbow. Colorful and lovely and promising. Colors after a bad storm. 
“You might want to take him to the clinic tomorrow, just to get him all checked out,” Ven said, placing the kitten on the floor along with the bowls of food and water Lotor set down. “I think he looks good though. A little young to be without his mama, but we can make it work. He’ll need a name,” she added with a grin as she looked up at him. 
“I’m not naming him because I’m not keeping him,” Lotor told her, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You don’t think this meeting was destiny? You don’t think you were meant to find him because you two were meant to be together? In another reality, Lotor, this little guy could’ve been your childhood pet. In space.” 
“I highly doubt that. My father despised cats. And your imagination is something else.” 
Ven tilted her head and lifted one black brow. “Of all the people in this town, you were the one to spot him on the street. He would be dead if it wasn’t for you. That makes you his hero. He’s going to repay you with a lifetime of companionship.” 
“He’s going to repay me by pissing all over my house and keeping me up all night when he wants to play. If you want to give him a home, take him back to your place.” 
Of course she knew he didn’t mean for his words to come off as cruel. Lotor Sincline had an issue with attaching himself to others, especially by the heart. She had almost had to force her way into friendship when she’d discovered he’d had no one. Lotor had called out to her, just as this little kitten eating away called out to Lotor for safety. 
“You know I can’t keep him in my studio apartment, those heathens who own the place won’t allow pets. You have a big house that’s just crying out for a handsome black cat to watch over it. A handsome cat for a handsome man.” 
He eyed her and pointed one long finger at her. “Don’t try to sweet talk me, Quinn.” 
Ven only giggled, then gently took his hand so she could kiss the tip of the finger he held up. “I could help you take care of him, you know. That means I would be over a lot more. And I just happen to find kitten rescuers very attractive.” 
Lotor remained still when she stepped up to him, when she wrapped his arm around her waist and especially when she took his face in her hands and leaned up to softly peck his mouth. She’d painted her nails purple and her lips tasted like cherries. 
More than just friends, he decided. 
One bat of her long black lashes over her beautiful green eyes had him melting, though he tried hard not to show it. 
“Are you trying to seduce me into keeping this cat?” he asked her. 
She innocently lifted a shoulder. Her smile was like a ray of the sun. “Yeah,” she answered simply. 
With his hand on her waist and her arms around his neck, Lotor glanced down at the little black kitten. Maybe he really could train him to be a guard cat, to keep strangers away. And maybe it would be nice to have another living thing in this house with him when he was all alone, someone who wouldn’t bother him. 
Cats were... pleasing. 
“My mother used to have a cat, before she met my father,” he said softly. Usually he didn’t speak of his family life, not even to the therapist he’d had since he was a boy. But everything came easily with Ven’tar. “His name was Kova. I think... his name should be Kova.” 
“Kova,” Ven repeated with a big smile. “I love it. I guess I’ll have to spend the night now. To help you look after him.” 
Lotor pulled her against him and murmured, “I guess you will.” And kissed her again. 
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chobit92 · 5 years
Text
Small World: Joseph/OC Part 30
Joseph finally finds Jacob. John continues to struggle with drink and drugs and Lillith finally has enough...
Warnings: Domestic Violence, Sex, Drugs, PTSD
 (Joseph is about to leave the New Dawn homeless shelter and clinic when an old man walks over to him. The man is filthy and reeks of body odour and urine. His hair is scraggy and his face sunken.). Man: I hear you’re looking for your brother? Joseph: Yes. Man: Jacob. Joseph: Yes. Man: There was a guy called Jacob here. About 3 months ago. He was in bad shape. Joseph: How bad? Man: Spent most of his time lying in bed. Didn’t want to talk to anyone or eat or anything. Gave up on life he did. Joseph: He did? Man: Yeah. Probably dead now I reckon. He got kicked out of here. Got into a fight with another guy, Gus. Ah I can’t blame Jacob really. Gus was a real dickhead. He was always annoying Jacob. Guess Jacob had enough and he thumped him. Actually he put him in intensive care. He was booted out of here. Last I heard the police were looking for him for the assault. Joseph: Did you ever hear his last name? Man: Yeah. He had it written on the beat up old army jacket he always wore. Seed. (Joseph sighs.). Man: You okay? Joseph: Y-Yes. Fine. Thank you. Man: He’s your brother isn’t he? Joseph: Yes. I have been searching for him for years. Man: Hm. You Joseph or John? Joseph: Joseph. He spoke about us? Man: Nah. He didn’t talk to no one. Only time I heard him say a word was when he was asleep. He got nightmares real bad. Ah yeah. (The man takes a swig out of a hip flask.). Man: He always called out your name in his sleep. Always calling out for Joseph and John. (Tears sting Joseph’s eyes. He reaches into his pocket and hands the man a few bills.). Joseph: Thank you. Man: Much obliged. (Joseph heads for the door.). Man: You know you might want to check St Augustine’s. Joseph: St Augustine’s? Man: Yeah. Lots of homeless war vets end up there. The broad that runs the place tries to help ‘em best she can. Erika. Bless her. Her father was a war vet. Why she started the shelter in the first place. It’s three blocks away over on main. You can’t miss it. Joseph: Thank you. (Joseph leaves the shelter heading off up the road.). * (Joseph walks into John’s apartment. It’s just gone 9pm. He had no luck at St Augustine’s. Jacob wasn’t there. But he is getting closer to finding him he is sure of it. He can’t have gone far. He sees two wine glasses on the coffee table along with an almost empty bottle. He then hears Lillith giggling down the hall. They must be in bed. He then hears soft thumping and Lillith moaning loudly. It would seem that she has forgiven him again. Joseph goes to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of herbal tea. He sits on the sofa thinking about where to look next for Jacob. He takes his list out of his pocket and crosses off the places he visited today. He then stares at the floor awkwardly as John and Lillith become even more vocal. The walls must be made of cardboard. Joseph turns the TV on and turns the volume up. He decides to put the news on. He has never liked watching the news. It fills him with horror every time. About a minute later he hears the door open down the hall and Lillith walks through the lounge to the kitchen. She is wearing a very small silk black nightie and nothing else.) Lillith: Hey Joe! Joseph: Evening. Lillith: How did the search for Jacob go? Joseph: I am getting closer. I met a man today that knew him briefly. Lillith: Really? That’s great. Hey John! John: What?! Lillith: Get out here! Your brothers home! (Lillith gets another bottle of wine from the fridge and picks up one of the glasses from the coffee table. She pours herself another glass and takes a sip. John appears wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. His usually perfectly groomed hair is sticking up all over the place and some of it has fallen into his eyes.). John: Are you stealing all of my wine? Lillith: Not all of it. You’ve drank most of it! (He chuckles before squeezing her hips and kissing her.). Lillith: Ummm. I think I’ll get you drunk more often. John: I thought you hated my drinking. Lillith: Only when you have too much. (She kisses him and squeezes his ass making him flinch.). John: Hey! (She turns to pick up her wine and he slaps her ass making her giggle. John picks up the bottle and brings it to the lounge pouring himself another glass. Lillith sits down and sips her wine.). Lillith: Joe was just telling me that he met a man that knew Jacob today. (John stops mid sip and looks at Joseph over his glass.). John: Oh? Joseph: Yes. He told me that Jacob was at the New Dawn shelter 3 months ago but that he got kicked out for fighting. He said that... (Joseph doesn’t know whether he can bring himself to tell them the rest of it.). Lillith: Joe are you okay? (Lillith puts her glass down and moves closer to Joseph putting her arm around him.). John: What is it? He isn’t dead is he? Joseph: No. No. He misses us John. John: What? How do you know that? Lillith: Of course he misses you. He’s probably been looking for the two of you for years too. Joseph: I don’t think that he has. The man told me that Jacob is...Broken. The army has... Lillith: Oh. Joseph: He said that he had given up on life. He hardly ate and when he did sleep he would have nightmares. The man said that he always called out for us in his sleep. (There is silence. Lillith takes another sip of wine.). Joseph: I’m going back out tomorrow. I will find him. Lillith: I’m sure you will. John: Did the man say why Jacob had been fighting? Lillith: That’s your only question? John: Well I’m just curious. Joseph: He said that one of the other men was always winding him up. John: Hm. Must run in the family. Lillith: What? Everyone loses it once in a while. John: Hm. Lillith: It’s okay John. We’re gonna find him. We should all go out and look. John: I have to go to work. Lillith: Coz that’s more important than finding your brother? Joseph: It’s alright. I can look. Lillith: Well I think we should all be looking. (There is silence.). Joseph: It’s alright. I would rather find him on my own. I think it will be overwhelming enough for us to be reunited after all these years. But to meet you and...I’m not saying...Of course he will want to meet you Lillith- Lillith: It’s okay. But if you want our help looking just say so. Joseph: Thank you. I’ll be fine. Lillith: We should probably get to bed. John: It’s not even ten. Lillith: Well you’ve got to be up for work haven’t you? John: Well yes but... (He sighs.). John: I will help you look for Jacob. Is that what you wanted Lily? Lillith: Well yes...But that isn’t what I meant. I just meant that if you stay up too late you will end up sleeping in then you will grumble that you are tired and late for work. (John sighs.). John: Yes. You’re right. As always. Lillith: A woman is always right. (Joseph smiles.). Joseph: Have you set a date yet? Lillith: A date? (Lillith frowns.). Joseph: For your wedding. (Lillith swallows hard and looks down before taking a large gulp of wine.). Lillith: No. (John says nothing. Joseph looks at him and raises his eyebrows.). John: What? Joseph: You should set a date. (John finishes his glass of wine and gets up picking up the bottle and putting it back in the fridge.). John: I need a shower. (He then disappears down the hall. Lillith sighs.). Lillith: I don’t know why he doesn’t just tell me that he doesn’t want to marry me. Joseph: I’m sorry. Lillith: For what? Joseph: He shouldn’t be treating you like this. Lillith: It’s okay. I always knew we would never get married. I think he only proposed because he had seen me looking at the ring and he felt bad for cheating on me when I had done so much for him. Joseph: You deserve better than this. Lillith: Do I? Joseph: Of course you do. (She smiles.). Lillith: He ordered pizza and we drank wine. Then we made love and now we are drinking more wine. He even sang to me after dinner. We watched my favourite movie too. Now I’m gonna go and shower with him then he will probably make hot chocolate with marshmallows and snuggle with me in bed. (She looks at him and smiles again.). Lillith: It doesn’t get better than this. (She gets up and takes her wine glass to the kitchen.). Lillith: Night Joe. Joseph: Goodnight Lillith. (She smiles at him before going down the hall to John’s bedroom closing the door behind her. The bathroom door is open and she can hear the shower running. She goes into the bathroom and walks over to the shower opening the door. He turns and looks at her. She slips the nightie off letting it drop to the floor. His eyes travel downwards and he smiles. She steps into the shower with him and wraps her arms around him kissing him.). Lillith: Today has been awesome. John: It has? Lillith: Yep. I love you. John: Ummm. (He kisses her back then turns her pressing her up against the glass side of the shower. He starts kissing her neck. She sighs as his hands travel downwards. He presses himself against her and she moans, her hands sliding down the glass as he continues to kiss and nip at her neck.). Lillith: John. John: Sssh. Don’t speak. (She moans again as his fingers slide into her. He bites her shoulder.). John: You are so beautiful. Lillith: Ummm. (She cries out as he suddenly presses into her. Her breasts press up against the glass and he slides his hand in between her legs making her cry out.). * (Lillith wakes up. She is a little cold so she snuggles underneath the duvet. She feels John behind her. He moves closer to her and puts his arm over her.). Lillith: Ummm. John: Morning Lillith: Morning. What time is it? (She hears him pick up his phone and put it back down.). John: Just gone 7. Lillith: Um. It’s too early. John: Well some of us need to get up for work. Lillith: Is that you trying to hint that I should find a job? John: No. You don’t need one. You have me. Lillith: But that’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to support me. John: Well...I do. (She rolls over to face him and he kisses her.). John: Now I need to get ready for work. Otherwise I won’t be able to support anyone. (She smiles then kisses him sliding her hands through his hair. He then gets out of bed.). Lillith: Come back. John: I need to get ready. Lillith: Hm. (He goes into the bathroom and minutes later she hears the shower running. She starts to drift back off to sleep when there is a knock on the bedroom door.). Lillith: Joe? Joseph: I’m heading out to look for Jacob. I have a few more shelters to search. Lillith: Okay. Do you need help? Joseph: No. I’ll be fine. Lillith: Okay. Good luck. Joseph: Thank you. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back. Lillith: Do you have your key? Joseph: Yes. Lillith: See you later. Joseph: See you later. (Lillith closes her eyes and thinks about what to do for the day while everyone’s out. Maybe she’ll go see Franky.). * (Joseph leaves the canteen of the Samaritans homeless shelter. He walks down the hall. Nobody really wanted to speak to him and the staff were not very helpful either. He is heading for the exit when he hears something that makes him stop. He turns to see a door that has been left ajar. At first he thinks that his mind has played a trick on him. But then he hears it again. A man’s voice. A man’s voice calling for Joseph and John.). * (Lillith walks into John’s apartment and throws her keys on the kitchen counter. She spent the afternoon with Franky. She pours herself a glass of wine and sits down on the sofa switching on the TV. Her phone vibrates and she takes it out of her pocket looking at the text message. It’s from John. He’ll be home late. His usual excuse about being stuck in meetings. She wonders if it’s true or not. She never knows what to believe with John anymore. She sighs and downs the glass of wine before pouring herself another.). * (Joseph looks down at the man lying curled up on the small cot. The man calling for Joseph and John. The man that Joseph is sure is his older brother Jacob. He’s found him. He’s finally found him. But Joseph wonders if he really has found him. The man lying before him is nothing like the man in the picture John found in Jacob’s service record. This man is far from the soldier in the photo. He sits down as the man opens his eyes and blinks up at him.). Joseph: Jacob? (The man stares at him. Tears sting Joseph’s eyes as he looks at his brother. There is nothing left of him. Joseph slowly reaches out and takes Jacobs hand. Jacob flinches away from him slightly.). Joseph: It’s Joseph. I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. (Jacobs arm suddenly comes up pulling him closer and they end up in each other’s arms as Jacob starts to sob.). * (Joseph walks into John’s apartment. He sees Lillith curled up on the sofa asleep. Jacob was reluctant to come with him. He is still at the shelter. Joseph told him that he would be back tomorrow with John and that they would leave together. Jacob seemed happy that they have found each other but he also seemed reluctant. Joseph sighs. He makes himself a cup of herbal tea and goes to the lounge. Lillith stirs and sits up.). Lillith: Hey. Joseph: Evening. Lillith: Is John back yet? Joseph: He isn’t here? Lillith: Clearly not. (She sighs and looks at her phone. She has another text. He is going to be late tonight as the meeting overran and he has case notes to go through. She sighs and shakes her head.). Joseph: He’s working late? Lillith: That’s what he tells me. Though I won’t be surprised if he smells like a bar when he gets back. Joseph: Hm. You should call him. Lillith: No point. He probably won’t answer and he hates it when I call. (There is silence as Lillith gets up and opens another bottle of wine before pouring herself a glass. She sits back down again taking a sip.). Joseph: I found Jacob today. (Lillith turns to look at him in surprise.). Lillith: That’s great! How is he? Joseph: Not good. Lillith: Oh. How come he didn’t come back with you? Joseph: I’m not sure. I don’t think he’s ready yet. Lillith: Not ready? You’re his brothers. Joseph: Yes but Jacob is...Not himself. Lillith: What do you mean? Joseph: He is broken. Severe PTSD would be my guess. Lillith: Oh Joe. Joseph: I have found one brother full of rage and the other completely hollow. His eyes are what will haunt me tonight. They were...Dead. (Lillith sighs.). Lillith: Well we need to get him back here with us. Then we can take him to the doctors. I’m sure John won’t mind paying whatever price to get him some help. Joseph: I can help him. Lillith: You’re not a doctor Joe. Sounds like Jacob needs some serious therapy. Joseph: Therapy. That’s what they call it. But it isn’t. The world just hides people like that. They ask questions not because they are trying to heal but because they are trying to work out how much of a danger they are to society. Lillith: That’s a pretty negative view. Jacob just needs support and to talk about things. That’s the mistake people make. Especially men. They don’t talk to anyone. Joseph: You are an expert? Lillith: Franky had a brother. He was in the army. He had PTSD and he didn’t tell anyone. He hid it from everyone. It was the worst thing he could have done. It only got worse. Me and Franky knew something was wrong. Franky looked up PTSD and we read all about it. We tried to get him to understand that he had a problem and that he needed some help but he wouldn’t listen. He said there was nothing wrong. Joseph: What happened to him? Lillith: He killed himself. Joseph: That will not happen to Jacob. Lillith: You don’t think that it will but how do you know? He might have already thought about doing it. That man you met said he wasn’t eating and that he had given up on life didn’t he? Joseph: Not now he has us. He has something to live for. Lillith: So did Franky’s brother. He had a three year old and a wife and he still killed himself. Joseph: I have faith. Faith that everything is going to work out. Lillith: Hm. Must be nice. To be so sure of everything. (She leans back and closes her eyes. They sit in silence for a while. Then the door opens and John stumbles in. Lillith looks up and sighs.). Lillith: I fucking knew it. (John is drunk and he smells of booze. His eyes are red and bloodshot and his nose is running.). Lillith: He’s been on the drugs again too. For goodness sake. (She gets up and takes John’s hand leading him towards the hall.). Lillith: Come on. John: No! (John yanks his arm away from her.). Lillith: Come on John you need a shower then you need to go to bed. (He has a cut on his forehead and she touches it.). Lillith: Have you been fighting again? John: Hm. (She sighs and takes his hand trying to lead him to the hall again but he yanks himself away from her and hits her sending her wine glass to the floor where it smashes. Joseph surges forward.). Joseph: John! (But Lillith surprises both of them. She punches John in the face.). Joseph: Lillith! (John is staring at her. He looks a little bewildered.). Lillith: Stop fucking hitting me! Now get in there and have a shower! You pathetic useless man! (Lillith regrets the words as soon as she has said them. John is staring at her sadly. He then turns and slowly pads down the hallway and they hear the bedroom door close. Tears roll down Lillith’s cheeks as she goes to the kitchen and fetches the dustpan. She sweeps up the glass and dries the puddle of wine with some kitchen towel before getting another glass and pouring herself another.). Joseph: That isn’t going to help. Lillith: Don’t you dare judge me. Joseph: I was not. You shouldn’t have hit him. Lillith: It’s about time someone bloody did. I am not putting up with it anymore Joe. I am not being someone’s punching bag! (Joseph sighs.). Joseph: My child. You need to calm down. This will not help anyone. Lillith: What do you know? You’ve only been here five minutes. I’ve known John for years. It’s about time I hit him back. Joseph: I understand. I do. But it’s not the way. (Lillith leans against the side sipping her wine. A few minutes later John emerges from his room. He walks slowly into the kitchen. His hair is wet and he is only wearing his silk pyjama bottoms. He goes over to Lillith and wraps his arms around her.). John: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. (He starts to sob.). Lillith: No you’re not John. John: I am. I am. You can hit me again if you like. Lillith: I don’t want to hit you. But I don’t want you to hit me either. I am sick of putting up with it. John: I’m sorry. Joseph: You need to learn to control your anger John. Lillith: And you need to go to your counselling sessions. John: Okay. (John suddenly peppers Lillith with kisses.). John: Come to bed with me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone. Tell me you love me. Love me please. Just love me. Joseph: You are loved John. This is the drink and the drugs. You shouldn’t keep doing this to yourself. It only makes things worse. Lillith: I do love you John. Go to bed then. I’ll be there in a minute. John: Okay. (John turns and staggers back up the hallway. He falls into the wall twice before disappearing and they hear the bedroom door close. Lillith sighs.). Joseph: Now that I have found Jacob I can focus my energy on bringing them back to themselves. Lillith: John is himself. This is John. This is who he is. He’s never going to change Joe. Joseph: But he will. We just need to make him see. Lillith: Tried that haven’t we? He won’t go to the counselling. He won’t listen to me. You can only help someone if they want to help themselves. If they don’t...Then there’s nothing you can do. Joseph: Maybe when he sees Jacob tomorrow he will feel differently. Lillith: Do you really think it’s a good idea for him and Jacob to be under the same roof right now? Joseph: What do you mean? Lillith: Well from what you’ve told me Jacob has his own issues and- Joseph: What are you saying? (Joseph suddenly looks angry. Lillith has never seen him look angry before. It scares her slightly.). Lillith: I just meant...It’s hard enough dealing with John. Having Jacob here too...I want him here of course I do. John’s family are my family but...I’m scared Joe. Joseph: Of what? Lillith: John losing it. I fear that seeing Jacob after all this time and realising that he’s...Broken like you say might just push him over the edge. One stress too many and then he’ll be broken and I can’t- (She lets out a sob. Joseph wraps his arms around her.). Joseph: No. No. That will not happen my child. You must have faith. We are finally going to be reunited. This is a good thing and I m sure that John will be thrilled to have Jacob back. Together we can help Jacob and I can help John. I have faith. You must have faith too. Soon the world as we know it will no longer exist. Soon we will be gathering followers. Gathering those that understand what most of the world does not. Those people will be saved. We will be saved. We will march together into the new world. But you have to have faith Lillith. (Lillith stares at him. She sighs.). Lillith: Okay Joe. (She pats him on the shoulder then turns and goes down the hall. Joseph sighs. She doesn’t believe him.).
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Text
burning out his fuse up here alone
anonymous asked: How long until Claire makes her way to North Carolina in your Vietnam AU? I don't really want to know and I'm dying to know at the same time. It is such a beautiful story.     
Vietnam AU
Claire smiled at Bobby Higgins, who returned her grin and even gave her a small bow.
 *Thank you,* he signed.
 After four days at Dr. Beaton’s speech pathology clinic, she had picked up enough ASL to understand what Bobby was trying to tell her. Corporal Higgins had barely survived a mortar attack in Viet Nam – costing him his right leg, inflicting disfiguring burns on the left side of his face, and resulting in significant brain trauma. That he was able to walk – with crutches – was a miracle. That he was also able to communicate, in a strange hybrid of sign language and speaking short, simple words, was nothing short of miraculous, testament to the dedication of Dr. Beaton and his team.
 Bobby was just twenty two. He would struggle for the rest of his life. But he was stubborn, and determined. And clearly very kind.
 “You are so welcome, Bobby. It’s been so delightful getting to know you this week.”
 Claire watched Bobby carefully blink, then swallow, preparing his voice.
 “M-m-m-may I wr-wr-wr-wr-write?”
 She flashed another smile. “Of course! Here – let me give you my school address. I’d *love* to hear from you and I can’t wait to see your progress!”
 Scribbling her address onto a piece of scrap paper and tucking it in the front pocket of Bobby’s overalls, she helped him to his feet and walked with him toward the door. His wife Amy waited outside – they had married right before he shipped out, and had two-year-old Orrie to keep them busy. Claire had learned all about them in her work with Bobby this week – and, just like it had been the previous three days, her heart clenched to see the look of ecstatic joy on Amy’s face when she saw Bobby come to her in the waiting room.
 Yes, Bobby had a long road to recovery – but he also had a fabulous support system to keep him on the right track.
 With a final pat on the back, she stepped aside, letting Bobby cross the room on his own to Amy, and sink into her embrace.
 Quietly Claire returned to the clinic, now strangely silent that Bobby had gone home. She had learned so much working with Dr. Davie Beaton and his patients this week – the doctor was truly doing some pioneering work, and at Appalachian State in North Carolina, of all places. He had welcomed her with open arms, allowing her to dive right in and learn directly from the very people whom she hoped one day to treat.
 Dr. Beaton had about twenty patients at his clinic – the vast majority of which were returned veterans. Several people who had suffered quite traumatic car accidents rounded out the rest of his clientele. He sought to not only study their brains and understand the root cause of their language difficulties, but also to develop a custom program to help them regain their ability to communicate.
 In Bobby’s case, it was a mix of speech and ASL. Bobby wasn’t the same man he had been before his injury, but he had clearly come a long way in the six months he had been working with Dr. Beaton. And Claire saw near-identical results with all the other patients.
 Dr. Beaton was truly having an impact. Just like she wanted to have an impact, once she completed her education.
 Just like she knew she’d had an impact on one man, from Boone, three years ago in a humid hospital in Viet Nam.
 No. She had resolved to not think about him until the week was through. Her flight back to Boston wasn’t until Monday morning – leaving enough time over the weekend to…to do what? Find Jamie Fraser? Think about not finding him?
 Claire swallowed. Her suddenly shaky fingers smoothed the creases out of her scrubs, heart suddenly racing.
 “Claire?”
 Startled, she looked up to meet Dr. Beaton’s kind eyes.
 “I’m sorry – could you repeat that?”
 Dr. Beaton was in his late sixties – his research had started with servicemen returning from World War II, continued with veterans from Korea, and now he worked with the boys returning from ‘Nam. He’d done a short stint in Da Nang, where he’d worked with Joe Abernathy and been able to put some of his work into immediate practice for the injured servicemen he’d met.
 Claire had taken an immediate liking to him – not only for his skill, and for the fact that he hadn’t cared she was female, but mostly because she reminded her of her dear, dear Uncle Lamb. Lamb, the kind-hearted, scatterbrained, socially awkward elderly uncle who had raised her almost from birth. Whose death had precipitated an existential crisis that had ended up with her hasty marriage to Frank – seeing him as a port in the storm.
 Oh, the irony.
 Dr. Beaton smiled at Claire. “I was just saying – you are truly gifted with these patients. Especially the veterans – I think it helps that you served, because they can relate to you in a way that’s hard for me to do.”
 Claire blushed. “Thank you, Doctor – and again, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to work in your clinic. I’ve learned so much, I don’t even know where to begin.”
 He sat, and gestured for her to take a seat as well. “I was wondering – would you be interested in attending the campus veterans’ support group? It’s mostly attended by returning soldiers who need just the emotional support – they’re not physically injured, I mean. But as I’m sure you know, the emotional wounds can run quite deep.”
 She nodded, and watched him fish a crumpled flyer from his coat pocket and slide it across the table. “Here is their information – I believe they’re meeting tonight, if you’re up for it.”
 Claire carefully unfolded the paper. The mimeographed message was simple – peer support, veterans helping veterans. Coffee and donuts would be provided.
 Then the name of the organizer caught her eye.
 “Murtagh Fraser? Is he a student?”
 Dr. Beaton laughed. “Oh he was – but he’s close to my age now. The Frasers have been a pillar of Boone since well before the Revolution – and they’ve been attending App State since it was founded. Murtagh served in World War II and then came here on his GI Bill, but he’s always hanging around in some form or another.”
 Why did she feel so dizzy?
 “Why do you ask?”
 Why, indeed.
 “I served with someone at Chu Lai whose last name was Fraser – and his uncle was General Dougal MacKenzie.”
 Dr. Beaton was visibly taken aback. “The Great Scot’s nephew? Well, that would be Jamie Fraser. He’s a local hero, you know – won a Purple Heart and Silver Star on the same day.”
 “So I heard,” Claire said softly. Was that her voice?
 “Anyway – Jamie got out of the service a few years back and comes to the group sometimes with Murtagh. He volunteers a lot in town with the different veterans’ groups – he’s really wanted to give back. He’s got a bit of Murtagh in him, for sure – but also he’s so much like his father, Brian. Brian and Murtagh were cousins, and they fought together in the Pacific. Horrific stuff.”
 Claire nodded absently, then rose.
 “Thank you, Dr. Beaton – see you tomorrow?”
 “Of course – have a good evening, Claire. Alec will be in tomorrow – I know he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
 She nodded, grabbed her coat, and quickly exited the room.
 And walked straight back across campus to her tiny hotel room, where she locked the door behind her and placed her hand on top of her racing heart.
 He was here. Jamie was here. He could be here tonight.
 She wasn’t ready.
 She would never be ready.
 She couldn’t just…walk in to a room with others. She had to see him – but wanted to do so on her own terms.
 For her sake – and for his.
 So she yanked out the drawer from the small bedside table, pulled out the phone book, and dialed Information.
 “Hello, Operator? I need the actual street address for PO Box 1746 in Boone, North Carolina…”
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donaldresslerfanfic · 4 years
Text
Quick Trip.
Rating: M
Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.
Word Count: 2931
Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.
Chapter: Sixty.
Chapter Index
Story on Wattpad
Ressler
"Maybe I should've taken that camomile tea you offered me" Maggie said next to me, I placed my hand on her knee and squeezed it.
"Are you nervous?"
"Of course I'm nervous. You know what's the worst part? I'm not going to find out until later."
"You'll find out eventually, it's not like the baby it's going to change it's mind half way through, it'll still be what they find it to be today"
"Ms Ressler" she was called from the examination room, the both of us stood up, and Maggie's hand quickly found mine. "Hi, how are you?"
Maggie's doctor was a woman that had been recommended to us, and she'd turned out to be a godsend. She picked Maggie's midwife, Selena, who was very attentive of her, she answered Maggie's calls at anytime and questions about any subject.
The doctor, Abigail Witmore, made her lay on the reclined chair and turned on the ultrasound machine.
"How have you been feeling?" She asked, pressing buttons on the machine.
"I'm super nervous, I want to know if we can know the gender in this ultrasound"
"We'll see if he or she allows us to see"
She squirted the end of the wand with gel and motioned at Maggie to lift up her shirt.
"Oh wow, you really popped up since the last month"
"Yeah" she said with a smile "not enough to have problems with the jeans just yet"
She pressed the device to her stomach and the black and white picture popped out in the screen. I was holding Maggie's hand in mine, and she always squeezed my hand when we first saw our baby. I must admit it was really beautiful to be here, to witness the whole process and the course of the pregnancy.
"Well, everything looks as it should be" she moved the wand around and remained silent while she made measurements with the computer.
"Can you see the gender?"
"Yes, I saw, everything's fine in that department, it's developing nicely" she shot Maggie a smile and pressed a few buttons to print some scans. "You know, your sister is my dog's groomer, and I'm scared for him if I slip up on what the baby is"
"It's okay" Maggie dismissed with a smile and grabbed the tissues the doctor handed to her, cleaning her stomach. "She had a thing planned for tomorrow, I guess I can wait"
I helped her out of the chair and received the pictures and results while Mags straightened her shirt and sweater.
"So, I guess I'll see you next month"
Maggie nodded and gave her a quick hug, when we were out of the clinic and in the car she flipped through the analysis to find the picture of the ultrasound.
"Ow, it's so precious" she said in a high voice "it has your nose" I chuckled and led my hand to her thigh
"It's a black and white grainy picture, you can't tell if it has anything of mine"
"Yes, I can tell by the profile" she carefully ran one of her fingers down my nose and my cheek "oh, turn here, we need to go to the DMV real quick"
"The DMV?" I asked, taking the next turn.
"Yes, I need to keep myself occupied until tomorrow"
"And the DMV is the place to do that?"
"Yes, you'll see"
After a few minutes, I was looking for a parking space, and weirdly I hadn't thought about the fact that I could technically park in the reserved spots for pregnant women and handicaps. We walked in, hand in hand, and as soon as we crossed the door a man offered Mags his seat. She looked up at me with a little smirk, and held my hand while we waited. It wasn't even two minutes until the door of one of the offices opened.
Maggie.
"Come on chubs, if I leave you out here for one minute you'll fill my waiting room with amniotic fluid"
I gave him a cheeky and half annoyed smile, Don was following close by to the office, and I could feel he was angry about the nickname. When we closed the door he began
"Listen pal-"
I interrupted him with a sign and gave him a shake of my head, but he didn't stop.
"Next time you call her chubs I'll kill you"
"Wow, wow" he said lifting his hands defensively "she knows I'm just messing around. Now don't tell me you come on Reddington's behalf, I know he doesn't have money to pay the services"
"Then it's a good thing I didn't come in Raymond's behalf"
I pulled out a closed Manila envelope and handed it to him, then pulled out another sheet of paper and left it on the table.
"I need the CCTV feeds of that lawyer firm on work hours, 9 to 5."
"Who are you looking for?"
I gave Don a look for him to describe the fixer. He reluctantly did.
"About my height, mid 40', slim build, blue eyes, clean hair cut"
"But I want everyone who goes in and out accounted for" I added.
"I can have them all accounted for in 36 hours, I'll deliver the files to you when I'm done"
"Great, thanks Glen" I walked a short step to Don and held him by the arm, making him turn around to the door and exiting the office.
"Who even is that guy?" He asked when we were walking towards the car.
"It's just Glen from the DMV, and he's actually good at what the does"
When we got to the car Don opened the door for me, and I buckled my seatbelt whilst he made his way around the car and sat on the driver's side.
We got on the road again, and I was looking out the window when he spoke again.
"And when you have the information what are you gonna do?"
"Well- ice cream!" I pointed at the ice cream shop just as we passed it, but Don took the next turn and then the next and the next back to the ice cream shop "I'm sorry I really want one" I apologized, unbuckling my seatbelt.
"How about you give me a fair warning next time?" He joked.
I didn't wanted to say that I had extreme cravings, but they were in the spurt of the moment. I saw something and I wanted it, I'd stopped numerous times on my way to work on coffee shops and deli shops to buy something.
I was happily sitting in the table with my bucket of ice cream that was supposedly for share, but Don just gave me a wave of his hand for me to go at it.
"You didn't answer my question" he said, leaving his arm on the back of my chair, his hand landing on my side.
"Well, we spook him"
"Spook him?"  He frowned.
"We need to find out who he is, where does he work, his social circle, if he has family, and most importantly: where he keeps his information, the dirt, that's what I want. We take that power away from him, spook him, and if he keeps at it..." I left the sentence in the air.
"You'll kill him, is that it?"
I gave him a fake surprise look, holding my hand to my chest.
"Me? Never, I could never hurt another person"
A few seconds passed until I gave him a little side eye and a wink. He just shook his head and rubbed my side with his hand.
"He can't know you and I are related, I've done all I can to keep your information hidden"
"Oh, I won't be doing anything baby, not like this" I motioned at my belly. "He won't even see me for all we care"
"Oh yeah? How do you figure that?"
"I'll think of something" I reached and patted his thigh "don't worry"
He kept looking at me with a little glint in his eyes that I couldn't pinpoint what it meant, I couldn't really make out what he was thinking, if he was thinking something good or bad about me.
All my doubts evaporated when the hand that was on my side moved up to my jaw and moved my head to the side, he leaned in and kissed me long enough for me to reach my hand to his neck and move my lips over his.
I giggled over his lips when his hand landed on my thigh and squeezed it playfully.
"Stop" I said pulling his hand away and standing up "let's go home"
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I'd taken the day off because of the sonogram, and I wanted the people at the firm to keep me posted about everything. I talked on the walk to the car and most of the ride home, only setting the phone down when I was at the front door.
"My God" I said hanging up and walking inside, Don held the door opened for me.
"Everything okay?" He asked.
"Yes, too okay actually, I think we might be able to finish this by the end of the week. I mean my side of the project"
"That's good news" he said, then his own phone vibrated "Ressler" he said picking up. "I'll be there tomorrow morning"
I gave him a quick look, walking up the stairs.
"You got called in?"
"Yeah, finally" he followed me up the stairs "these cases are coming too slow for my liking"
I looked back at him, then stopped in the middle of the hallway, since he was following me.
"I'm going to do some things in the office" I pointed behind me.
"And? What? Are they top secret?" He teased walking to me and holding me by the waist "can I not watch?"
"Yeah, you can watch, you'll get bored is all" I walked in the office and turned the light on, he grabbed his own laptop from the bedroom and sat next to me while I reviewed some blueprints, just checking the measurements, light arrangements and other services. After maybe half and hour he pushed the screen of his laptop to me.
I stopped to look at the screen, a few tabs were opened but the first one was of a beautiful suburban home.
"Ow" I whined, but quickly frowned "what no, no no no, we're not buying a house" I pushed the laptop to him, but he placed it on top of my prints.
"Yes we are, and you're picking or I'm picking for us"
"No, I don't want to move whilst pregnant, I can't help, we have to pack a ton of stuff, no, it's decided"
"No, it's not decided" he fought back "look at this other one"
"I'm not-" I looked at the next one reluctantly, it was beautiful. "Okay, that one's really good"
"Yeah see, be optimistic" I gave him a chuckle with a little eyeroll.
"But we're not moving until this one comes around"
"That's debatable"
"That's not debatable" I fought. My phone rang again on my desk, and I quickly picked it up.
"Hey Mags, so, I know what you're having" my sister spoke quickly.
"Oh my God I'm dying to know" I complained.
"Yeah, tomorrow, what's your schedule? I always thinking at night?"
I looked at Don, turning my phone away.
"My sister wants to have a get together at night. Do you think you'll be here?"
"I have no clue love, you know how this is" he shrugged.
"How about we forget all that and you just tell me" I said jokingly.
"Nope, none of that, I can set up for the weekend if you want"
"The weekend is too far" I complained, trhowing my head back.
"The weekend it is, see you on Saturday"
I pouted and hanged up, looking at Don as I threw my phone back on the counter.
"She says Saturday" He gave me a little smile and leaned in to kiss my lips, then my forehead.
"Let's check what we're cooking for dinner".
Ressler
I parked in the construction site, ringing Mags on the phone quickly. She met me outside a few minutes later, she had a hardhat on her head a and a face mask hanging from her neck.
"Hey" she saluted, motioning at me "you're not suited up, what's wrong?"
I looked down at her, pressing my hand to the side of her belly.
"How are you?"
"Good, actually I think I might me able to sign off my side today." She sighed and pressed her hand to the base of her belly "it's taken me a full extra month to finish it, and I'm kind of mad at it, but Oscar was telling me 'it's okay, we're still on schedule' I know that we're still on schedule but I had an internal schedule I couldn't meet and..." She sighed again and shook her head "I'm rambling, I'm sorry. What are you up to?" She moved her other hand on top of mine to hold it.
"I'm going on a case"
"Mm, where?"
"Europe" she shifted her weight to her left leg and placed her hand on her thigh.
"Well, when are you coming back?" I just shrugged.
"Hopefully a day of two, three at most. But I'll be available at anytime if something happens"
"Why would anything happen?" She gave me a little look and walked a short step to hug me. I pressed her body to mine, her belly pressing against my own. "I'll miss you" she whispered against my ear. I pressed my lips to her neck, rubbing her back when I pulled back.
"Me too love. I'll call you tonight" I kissed her forehead and then her lips shortly.
Going away used to never be a problem, but not now that I was leaving not only a wife behind, but a pregnant one at that. I struggled with my own mind everyday about things that could happen to her and how I was not able to stop them or prevent them.
I was half annoyed when we arrived to Croatia, because suddenly Reddington was throwing a party, and that wasn't happening until saturday, so I was stuck in Italy for five days. That same night I called Mags.
"Thank God you didn't forgot the time zone change. Didn't wanted you waking me up at 3 am" I smiled at the comment and relaxed on the bed, closing my eyes as she spoke to me "how's everything?"
"I'm bored, I'll have to stay here until Saturday"
I could very much tell her expression from the silence on the line, giving that we were supposed to have the gender reveal on the weekend.
"Are you done with the thing?" I continued.
"Yeah" she said with a sigh "I signed off today, I'll be working from the office from now on"
"Mm, and why don't you come?" She chuckled at me
"Come to where?"
"To Italy, I'll buy you a ticket"
"Are you drunk?"
"No, I'm not." I stood up from the bed and went to my computer "there's a flight in four hours" I said quickly typing on the notebook. "Come, you have 90 minutes to pack, I'll send a car over and I'll mail you the tickets."
"What? Are you serious?" She asked again "aren't you working?"
"Not right now, not until Tuesday and then not until Saturday. Go and pack, you'll be here roughly 7 am tomorrow, so sleep as much as you can on the plane."
".... Okay..." She said hesitantly "I'm actually going to pack"
"Yeah, pack, I'll see you tomorrow" she just hung up, and even from here I could see her big frown, not really believing that I was actually going to bring her to Italy. I sent her the plane ticket a few minutes after, and she just replied the mail with "you're actually serious". Of course I was serious, I had time to spare and if she was available why wouldn't I not want to spend it with her?
The morning after I asked for another room before taking a cab to pick her up.
I saw her exit the gate, handbag hanging from her forearm as she looked around. I walked to her, who just stood there at the side of the gate waiting for me. She gave me a smile when she finally saw me, giving me a chuckle when I caught up with her and held her by the waist, pulling her to me.
"Did I really just woke up in Italy?"
"You really did, am I not a good husband?" I teased, she chuckled over my lips before kissing them, placing her hands on my chest and barely touching my chin with her fingers.
"You're the best husband" she whispered over them, kissing me shortly again before we turned and headed to pick up her luggage.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, I did actually. Jet lag hasn't really been a problem for me, I adjust quite easily."
We waited a few minutes just holding each other's hands before I saw her bag roll to us, I caught it and held her by the waist.
"Do you have today free?" She asked as I hailed a cab.
"Yes love, why?"
"Because" she took her phone and showed it to me "I've got places I want to see" I gave her a little smile and pulled her close, my arm surrounding her back and landing on her waist.
"I'm all yours"
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