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togetherwearerapture · 3 years

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Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

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

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible. I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

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

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #tobias carrick #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick x mc #open heart #choices open heart #open heart 3

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runawaymun · 3 years

Text

@ramyun-monster

per this meme

Oh I was quietly hoping someone would ask me about this one!!

*INHALES*

The thing is, I’ve always gotten the impression that the first couple of years since making The Choice(tm) was really rocky for Elrond and Elros. In my mind, Elrond made his Choice because he had foreseen that Middle Earth would need him in the years to come. He had a huge part to play. He saw that Elros did, too, but he assumed, naturally, that meant they had huge parts to play together. He never imagined that they would be separated from one another.

Elros, on the other hand, didn’t have as strong a gift of Sight as Elrond did. And I have always kind of figured that when he went through his bastard emo teenage phase (as we all do) he wanted nothing to do with the elves. In his mind, everything awful that had ever happened to him and Elrond came as a result of shitty things that elves did for shitty reasons. Like, hello, the kinslayings. He loves his Atya and Atto just as much as Elrond does, of course! But the rest of the elves can shove it. And I also have this impression that both of the twins struggled with some level of, for lack of a better term, species dysphoria growing up. They’re fucking WEIRD, okay? Not really Elf, not really Man, with a bit of Maia mixed in??? And I just kind of headcanon that Elrond always struggled with not looking Elvish enough, whereas Elros always hated the parts of him that were Elvish and wished he looked more Mannish or like a Maia.

So, of course, as soon as there came an option to identify with the mortal side of him he took it.

And hoo boi. Did they fight about it afterward.

But they made up, of course. Because they love each other. And by then Elrond looked much more Maia/Elvish. He never grew a beard. He’s very willowy and slender and freakishly tall, with those too-long delicate fingers and eyes filled with starlight. Elros became...not necessarily stockier, but sturdier I guess is a better word. He grew a beard. His eyes softened. And it’s really upsetting and emotional and disturbing for both of them when they first see each other again after a long, cold distance because for the first time they’re not identical.

For as long as Elros and Elrond can remember, they can see their reflection in their twin. And suddenly, they’re unrecognizably different.

But Elros still has pointed ears.

And he hates them.

Like they trigger his dysphoria so badly and Men either give him like, awe-struck stares or like, dirty looks. Depends. And that, of course, only makes him hate himself more.

And Elrond loves his twin. He loves Elros to bits. So he wants to help him with this even though it breaks his heart, because it’s the one feature they still share in common.

But he does it. He does it anyway. He figures out a way to reshape Elros’ ears for him because he wants nothing more than for his brother to be happy and to feel like himself, and he wants Elros to know that even though they made different Choices, he accepts and loves him, and he will eternally. No matter what.

Okay enough rambling: SNIPPET

It had been a longer road to healing than Elrond had anticipated. But that was another thing that had changed. Their sense of time was so unbelievably different. The past few weeks had gone by in an eyeblink for him, but not a day passed that Elros did not complain of how long it was taking for the surgery to heal. And it did, admittedly, take longer than it should have.

No, he corrected himself.

There was no ‘should have’ with Elros.

Not anymore.

They stood together at the mirror in Elros’ bedroom. Elros, at Elrond’s insistence, had covered his eyes with his hands. Elrond couldn’t help but stare at the two of them: Elros’ beard and lightly-haired arms, Elrond’s own smooth skin. He had grown a little taller than Elros, too. Nearly imperceptibly so, but they had once been the same height hair-for-hair.

Elrond had loved Elros’ ears. They had been his own ears. The last reminder of what they shared. The last bit of him that was Elros. And now, no longer.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, trying to keep the grief out of his voice.

Elros nodded. “Yes,” he breathed.

“No peeking. Not until I say.”

He could imagine the way Elros was scowling beneath his interlaced fingers. Elrond unwrapped the bandages from around his head and, with trembling hands, touched the shell of Elros’ ear. Elros sucked in a sharp breath. The suture scars were still visible where he had trimmed and reshaped the cartilage. There was only one final step.

He began to sing the cantrip he had devised, touching first the right ear, then the left, until at last it looked as if they had always grown that way. Round. Like a Man’s.

“There.” Elrond’s chest hurt. He scrubbed at the tears building in his eyes so Elros wouldn’t see them. “There,” he said again, injecting as much of a smile into his voice as he could stomach. “You can look.”

It was worth it to see the look on Elros’ face when he saw himself. Worth it to see that little bit of starlight return to his gray eyes such that Elrond had not seen in an Age. And oh, it hurt to look at him. To look at his twin. His brother. He was struck with a sense of wrongness which he swiftly rejected.

This was what Elros wanted. This was how he saw himself. He beamed as he traced the new shape with the tips of his fingers, over and over, feeling for a seam, a scar, anything. But there was none. No painful reminder of what they had looked like before. Only new skin. New beginnings.

I need to actually finish this one of these days because it kills me. But for now it sits in my docs folder. I’ll get to it lmao. When I can like, see through my tears to finish typing it because I cry every damn time I stare at this.

#out of uniform #elrond #elros #lotr #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #cw dysphoria #more like a discussion around dysphoria #but still want to tag to be safe #this one hurts ok #it hurts my heart

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anotherbeingsworld · 3 years

Text

the promise of happiness

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Alessia Lyxienne)

Book: Open Heart

Rating: G , TW: mentions of surgery.

Prompts by @choicesjunechallenge2021 Day 1 – plot twist

Summary: Alessia's ex is in town, and its quite a reunion. <3

A/N: hiii, so I decided to participate in the challenge and well, write lots of Bryce before we have to say goodbye to him soon. So, this is kinda (hopefully) become a writing spree for me - like a Bryce appreciation-ish of my own. I have some plans already - and, I can't wait to share them! Also, a huge shoutout to @appiomofchoice for a lot of her help on this fic and the upcoming ones! Enjoy! (also, I will start to use a new mc name! however, she is who casey is but, with a new name instead hehe) // i dont own any characters except mc and brian lewis. (and, i apologize for grammar errors and any errors in this story)

It was supposed to be a normal day, however, the gasped that escaped her signals that the day is going to be an adventure. As she stood beside Bryce, both of them were facing a familiar face who she knows all too well. Brian Lewis, the Brian Lewis. The knowing smirk on his face as his gaze falls onto her brings back all the memories during her time at med school before.

He was a senior, a few years older than her. As they started to get to know one another through a mentoring session with Dr. Lisbon in her anatomy class. They started to go out in a matter of months, as their study sessions become quite intimate in the past – before, breaking up as Brian left for an opportunity to continue his residency in London. They were on good terms, and seeing him again in front of her brought back old memories.

“Dr. Lyxienne, are we clear?” The sound of Harper’s voice pulled her out of a trance, as she was pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that once more?”

Harper nods, before introducing him to her – as Bryce raised an eyebrow at the man.

“This is Dr. Brian Lewis from John Hopkins – and, he will assist us in one of the diagnostics team cases.” Brian takes his hand out towards her as Bryce took it before Alessia could do anything.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Lewis, I’m Dr. Bryce Lahela and this is…”

“The Dr. Lyxienne of course! How have you been Alessia?” He said with a huge smile on his face, as Alessia froze, not knowing or mentally preparing herself where her boyfriend met his ex.

“I’m doing fine, thank you, Dr. Lewis.” The formality makes him take a step back as the atmosphere around them becomes awkward.

“Well, Dr. Lewis – we will see you at the diagnostics office soon. It’s nice to meet you.” Harper shook his arm again, with a smile before leaving the room.

The three of them stood awkwardly, before Alessia’s pagers started to beep – as she quickly runs away from the scene any further.

The two men stood quietly before Bryce left the room as well – leaving a sighing Brian in the office.

Bryce’s pager started to vibrate, as he was called into the diagnostics office as he finished with an appendectomy. With a satisfied smile on his face, he was met with a full office – consists of Dr. Emery, Dr. Ramsey, Alessia, Dr. Carrick, and Brian who are discussing their new case.

“Bryce, welcome. Dr. Lewis, this is one of our top surgeons in our department– Dr. Bryce Lahela.” Harper stated before Bryce taking a seat beside Alessia who looks nervous upon the encounter.

“It's good to see you again Dr. Lahela.” His voice was rough with a hint of softness in it.

Bryce nods before he was passed with a copy of the case itself.

“Based on the check-up we did, we found that the patient has suffered from spinal osteomyelitis. It is known as an infection of the vertebrae – it is a rare case, however still dangerous overall.” His presence is commanding as the others listen to it intently.

“How dangerous is it?” Alessia’s voice can be heard as all eyes fall on her.

Brian smiles, as he explains.

“Infections on the spine can be extremely dangerous along with the surgery on that are can be risky with the probability that may lead to a case of paralysis or even more infection.”

She nods intently, as the room went quiet once more.

“When will the surgery be performed? I’m guessing the sooner, the better right?” Tobias adds along with the conversation.

“I suspect we kept her in for a couple of days, to make some additional check-ups. But, if a timeline was needed – definitely as soon as we could.” He concludes before taking a seat.

After a while of discussion – the team was dispersed.

“Dr. Emery, I have to ask why was I picked by Dr. Lewis for the surgery?”

“Dr. Tanaka recommended your name and he wanted to take you in this round. I have to go now for a meeting, but – if you have any questions, Dr. Lewis can answer it for you about the surgery.” He nods as Harper was out of his sight.

Alessia sits on her own, as the dish in front of her remains uneaten due to the textbooks on the table. She was quite occupied with the text in front of her without realizing she had some company awaits her.

Her gaze falls onto the familiar gray eyes looking at her – with the familiar smile since before. Brian was sitting opposite her.

“Yes, Dr. Lewis, what do you need?”

“It’s me Alessia, can we talk – why are you avoiding me?” His voice somewhat remains strong, as Alessia tries to avoid the question.

“I…don’t know. It's weird seeing you again after all these years.” She begins her argument, as Brian nods in understanding.

“I can quite say the same, you look as beautiful as years ago.” He compliments her, as she smiles and lets out a chuckle.

“Thank you. I gotta say – you look as good as you did years ago. But, why Edenbrook, what are you doing here even?” Alessia shuts the textbook, as she looked him in the eyes.

“Dr. Emery was a colleague of mine before, and she requested me to come by for the surgery. I didn’t expect you’d be here.” His gaze falls down upon his hands.

She nods, not knowing how to reply as the silence follows for a moment.

“I know it's an unexpected encounter. It might be weird seeing your ex after all these years, but…I am glad that I got to see you again Alessia.” He says with a smile on his face, the genuine expression she knew all too well from years ago.

Before she could reply, she saw Bryce making his way to her. She smiles at him, as Brian follows her gaze meeting his eyes. He waved at him, before glancing his way back to her. The wide smile on her face still presents on her face, as Bryce took a seat beside them.

“Dr. Lewis, Alessia.” He greeted them both, as Brian's gaze fall onto them both. How comfortable they looked together before he excuses himself from the table.

“I’ll see you in surgery Dr. Lahela, and Alessia.” He smiles before leaving the cafeteria.

Bryce’s gaze follows his trail until he left the cafeteria.

“So, I think I have been out of the loop as your boyfriend – but, who is he?” His eyebrows were raised at Brian’s empty seat.

She lets out a small chuckle,

“He is…my -ex in med school actually.” She lets the truth set free, as Bryce looks at her in awe actually.

“Well, you certainly had upgraded.” He jokes as a wink followed before she elbows him playfully.

“Very funny Bryce.” She says before opening her textbook again.

She feels his eyes on him, as she glances his way. He somehow looked nervous suddenly.

“How do you feel when you see him again?”

She thought about it,

“It feels like nostalgic, yet – the story between us has ended years ago. You don’t have to worry alright.” She winks at him, as Bryce lets out a mock laugh – as a response.

“I’m not worried! Never, nope.”

“Whatever you say, Bryce.” She said before leaning in for a kiss, as they continue to spend the remaining time together studying about the upcoming surgery.

It was days later, as Bryce preps for the surgery alongside Brian. The OR was quiet, as they were the only ones there. A few seconds later, the surgical assistant arrives alongside the on-lookers consists of other surgeons.

He took a deep breath before they began the procedure, the gallery above them was filled with doctors – as Bryce could recognize a few to name. Dr. Emery and Dr. Tanaka are whispering subtlely, Dr. Ramsey alongside Dr. Carrick and even Dr. Banerji are there. As his gaze moved towards the left, he was shocked to see Alessia sitting by the end of the gallery – as she waves his way. He smiles, before resuming his role alongside Brian.

The clock was ticking slowly, as he observes Brian’s work and was impressed by his handiwork. They switched tasks in between the surgery – and he felt alive at that moment.

“Dr. Lahela, pass me the lancet.” Bryce nods as one of the nurses passes it his way.

Brian was focused on his work before he blurted a question in the middle of the surgery itself.

“So, you are the boyfriend I assume.” His voice is low as Bryce look at him with wide eyes.

He nods, as Brian continues on the surgery with such ease in his work.

“How long have you been together?”

“We just made it official, but…almost three years.” He says proudly behind his surgical mask.

There was a pause in between before he says.

“Years ago, I knew that smile on her face – along with the look in her eyes, she really does loves you. And, when Alessia loves someone - she will go over mountains for you.” He said suddenly – as it felt like a promise for him.

Bryce nods and smiles to himself, remembering the moments they had gone through together.

“I know.” I will, an unspoken promise was said between the quiet atmosphere of the OR. As, a smile was visible on Brian's face - somehow he got the message.

As the procedure goes on, a couple of hours had passed – they survived the procedure after a couple roadblocks along the way. The patient has the last resort on the surgery – Bryce took the lead to amputate the affected limb to stop the infection from spreading further. And, at that note – the surgery was over.

They cleaned up from their dirty scrubs as the night has grown late for them both.

“Dr. Lahela – you did an exceptional job today.”

He smiles, feeling the glowing pride in himself.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to join in the surgery, Dr. Lewis.” He replies as Brian nods before they both started to go on separate ways.

It’s the day after the surgery, as Alessia stumbles upon Brian who is hugging Dr. Emery – somewhat as a gesture of farewell. As they went their separate ways, his eyes met with hers – a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He begins to conversation.

“Hi, leaving already?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I have an emergency meeting with the head of surgery at John Hopkins in a few hours.” He explains as she nods in understanding.

“Well, it's good to see you again which is… very weird to say.” She lets out a laugh as Brian lets out a chuckle.

“It's good to see you too. It's been years, and I’m glad to see you thriving here Alessia.” He smiles as they hugged.

“Thanks to your pop-quizzes on anatomy that's what keeping me here.” She winks at the joke, as they let go of the hug.

“Well, I’m glad I could play a part in the memoir of Dr. Alessia Lyxienne then.”

She nods, as he checks on the time.

“I have to leave before the traffic gets insane – but, say ‘hi’ to Bryce for me? And, if he ever hurts you – just know I’ll be ready to kick his ass for you.”

“No need, I think he’ll make me happy.” She said wistfully, as Brian smiles even wider.

“Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding then.” He winks before leaving the hospital grounds.

He stopped in his tracks, as he gazes back at where he was before. Bryce and Alessia were seen happily smiling together, he smiles – feeling happy for them both.

At that moment, Bryce’s eyes met with his as he waves to him. Brian waves back, as in a second – he was gone out of their sight.

“He said ‘hi’ by the way.”

Bryce nods, as he remembers the words during the surgery – it felt like a promise for him to make her happy. He smiles, as he will keep that promise and make Alessia the happiest woman in the world with him.

THE END.

tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari, @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom , @starrystarrytrouble , @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss , @appiomofchoice , @ariondevereux , @natureblooms24

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart choices #junechoiceschallenge #open heart fanfics #alya writes #oc: alessia lyxienne #choices fic writers creations

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just A Friend

Wow. I’m so, so grateful for the lovely response to chapter 1 of this story. I’ve never had so many notes on one of my posts before, so many, many thanks to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog and comment on it. i do appreciate it

Thanks also to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Previous chapter

AO3

Chapter 2: From Scrubs to Sauvignon

Sunlight streaming through the shutters wakes me before the alarm. After the previous seventy two hours with too much alcohol, not enough sleep and shared hotel rooms, last night’s sleep was a solid nine and a half hours and I feel so much better for it.

Trying, for a moment at least, to ignore both the demands of my bladder and my desperate need for caffeine, I gaze up at the ceiling and contemplate the surgery ahead of me. Whilst it’s a comparatively routine procedure for me, I always think about the families — parents, grandparents, siblings. It’s an anxious time for them, never routine, a step into the unknown and they are putting their trust in me to look after their precious child. Their faith in me is something I take very seriously.

I have a ritual I follow every time before theatre. I take a few minutes to close my eyes and let the procedure play inside my head, my hands echoing the images in my brain. I trace the path my scalpel will take on the skin; I position, in mid air, the locations of the clamps; I work with my imaginary mallet and chisel honing the bone, the X-ray images clear in my head.

By the time I’ve finished closing the incision, the demands of my bladder can no longer be ignored. That’s my cue to get out of bed and start my day.

***********

Before I put my scrubs on, I pay a visit to the side room where Robbie, my seven year old patient has spent the night. His parents have already given consent for the operation, but I like to go and do a final check.

Robbie is sitting up in bed, a bit subdued but in good health. His mother is sitting expectantly, nervously playing with the skin around her nails. The foldaway bed has already been put away, but, judging by her red rimmed eyes, I don’t think it got much use. Robbie’s father follows me into the room, two coffees in his hands.

“Sorry, Doctor Claire,” he nods at the coffee. “I didna get ye one. D’ye want one?”

I let the doctor reference pass. As a surgeon, my title is no longer doctor. Officially, I am Miss Beauchamp, but prefer my juvenile patients to call me Claire. Quite a lot of the parents seem to call me Doctor Claire. I suppose they like the reassurance that I am actually a proper doctor.

“No, thanks.” I smile. “Are we all set then?”

They nod nervously.

“Aye,” Robbie’s father agrees. “We need tae get it done.”

“How long will it take?” Robbie’s mother looks directly at me, wanting a definitive answer.

I hesitate. I don’t like to give precise times. If the surgery goes longer then parents start to fear the worst, and that’s not always the case. So I give a vague answer. “‘Till lunchtime… you could always go and sit outside in the little garden, it’s a lovely day.”

His mother looks down at her hands and shakes her head. “No, I want tae be right here …”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

I turn to Robbie, blissfully unaware of his parents’ thoughts. He beckons me to him.

“When I wakes up,” he begins in a stage whisper. “Can I have a treat?”

“What sort of treat did you have in mind?”

“Can I have a MacDonald’s? But no’ a kid’s meal. I’ve never had a Big Mac.”

I glance at his parents who nod at me before I whisper back, “Of course you can, but don’t let nurse Geillis see, will you? She can be ever so naughty. She’ll be trying to steal your chips away, if you’re not careful.”

And with that, I stroke Robbie’s little cheek before saying my goodbyes and head out to get changed.

**********

Robbie’s surgery went to plan, no nasty surprises or tricky complications. I call in to check on Robbie’s parents before they head to recovery. They look totally different to when I saw them this morning. Still worn out of course, I don’t think they’ll sleep properly until their little lad is home with them, but their faces shine with sheer relief. I have warned them about the long road ahead, with many hours of physiotherapy and exercises, but, for today, I’ll let them have their moment of pure happiness. Reality will hit them again soon enough.

As I leave the waiting room, making my farewells, Robbie’s dad thanks me once more. I can tell he’s unsure whether hugging me is appropriate or not, so he settles for a handshake. His wife has no such qualms, wrapping me tightly in a hug, whispering her thanks until her husband reminds her that they need to be with their son. I point the way and head down to the nurses station.

Geillis is sitting there, looking very busy on the computer. I pull up a chair and sit next to her. The screen is filled with images of our weekend in Barcelona.

“What?” She looks at me as if I’ve accused her of something. “I’m on ma lunch, aren’t I?”

“How was your night then?”

Geillis beams from ear to ear— she’s like the cat who got the cream. “Nay bad, nay bad at all. After two nights away, Dougal realises what he’s got wi’ me, and he dinna hesitate tae show me, if ye ken what I mean?”

She winks at a poor medical student, who blushes and busies himself with a set of medical notes.

“Geillis,” I warn. “Behave yourself.”

“Anyway, pet, how was yer evening? Another tryst wi’ Professor Randall?” Her face says it all. Geillis thinks about as much of Frank as he does of her. Literally the only thing they have in common is me, and it’s getting pretty wearing.

“No, I was worn out and— oh, that reminds me.” I fumble in my pocket for my phone as I carry on talking. “I’ve got someone else’s suitcase. I hope they’ve got mine.”

I glance at the screen. Two missed calls and one message. All from the same number. All from the number I called last night, the James-Fraser-isn’t-here-don’t-call-again-ever number. Looks like this James Fraser has a jealous or suspicious wife-partner-girlfriend-housekeeper.

“Catch up later, Geillis, I need to deal with this.”

I rush back to my office to try and sort the suitcase problem out.

The message is brief and to the point.

Hi, Jamie Fraser here. I think I have your case too. Can we arrange a swap? I live in Glasgow. Hopefully you too. Where and when? I’m free after 5 today.

After five will work for me too, I just need to pop home and pick up his case. Now, based on his wardrobe choices and his one message to me, he doesn’t actually seem like an axe murderer or sex pervert, but you can’t really tell, so I think about a public location.

How about the benches by the cafe at Kelvingrove Park? 5:30? Claire Beauchamp

A couple of minutes later his reply appears on my screen.

Fine. See you then. I’ll be the one wheeling a black Samsonite. JF

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

It’s another glorious sunny day here in Glasgow. Just ideal for going for a stroll in the park. I do feel a bit conspicuous with a suitcase trailing along behind me — kind of like an upmarket bag lady.

There are no other suitcases around, so I perch on a bench. I fire a quick message to Geillis, just so that she knows where to direct the police if I disappear and then wait. It’s not too bad waiting. The sun is still warm, so I stretch my legs out trying for a tan. With my eyes closed, I lift my face up to soak up the rays. I may get panda eyes with my sunglasses on, but I don’t really care. The warmth is so good and I can feel myself relaxing totally —

“Ahem.”

I am conscious of a shadow across my face. I open my eyes and quickly stand up.

He’s tall. That’s the first thing I notice. A good few inches taller than me, and I’m 5 feet 9. And broad. Broad enough to block my sun. His hair is red, very red and the sun behind him creates a fiery corona around his head.

He’s a Viking. A Viking in a navy blue suit and a crisp white shirt. How many of those white shirts does he own, I wonder?

“Claire Beauchamp, I presume. I recognise the case. That red ribbon on the handle, such a unique idea.”

He smiles, a lopsided half grin and holds out his hand for me to shake. “Jamie Fraser.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” I say somewhat unnecessarily as we shake hands.

He sits down. “So,” he begins politely. “I hope ye havena come far out of yer way.”

I join him on the bench.

“No,” I gesture vaguely to my right. “I live not too far from here. How about you?”

That lopsided grin appears again. “Nah,” he gestures to his left. “No’ too far at all.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. We are not really here for small talk, but is it too rude to just dive in and do the swap?

“So,” Jamie breaks the silence. “About the cases…”

Apparently it’s not too rude.

“I ken ye have ma case there, on account of ma contact details being in it, but what about this one? How do I ken this is yers? Black Samsonites with wee red ribbons seem to be awfa common ‘round here. As proof, can ye mebbe tell me something that’s in it? Something identifiable?”

And at this, my mind goes blank, what did I pack?

“Er, denim shorts… black flip flops… white vest—”

“Weel, they’re all verra common. Is there anything a wee bit more… unique?”

Is it my imagination or is there a twinkle in his clear blue eyes as he says this? And then I remember exactly what’s in my case and start to blush.

“There may be some hen party bits and pieces in there too. It was my friend’s hen weekend, so I think there may be some, er, stuff from that, you know, er, handcuffs… shot glasses…”

He puts me out of my misery. “Och, that’s fine. It’s yers, right enough. Here ye go.”

And we do the exchange, just like in the spy movies. Except in those, the cases are filled with bank notes and the top secret blueprints for a submarine base, and not white dress shirts and an assortment of shot glasses shaped like penises.

Our phones beep practically simultaneously. I pull mine out of my pocket. Jamie does the same and glances at his phone.

Mine is a text from Frank confirming tonight’s arrangements “I’d better go. Plans for tonight, you know.”

“Snap. Plans here as well.”

“Goodbye then. I’m not sure whose fault it was, the mixup at the airport. So why don’t we both say sorry, or neither of us?” I suggest as I stand up and smooth the creases from my skirt.

“Sounds good tae me. How about neither?” He smiles again. “Ms Claire Beauchamp, nice to meet you.”

“Mr Jamie Fraser, likewise I’m sure.”

And with that we head off, me to the right and Jamie Fraser to the left.

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

Frank had said 7:30, and, sure enough, at 7:28 my intercom buzzes and I let Frank in. He arrives at my door carrying a large bunch of lilies and roses. No, not a bunch, I can’t describe it as a bunch… carrying a large bouquet of lilies and roses, beautifully arranged and hand-tied. Clearly not a supermarket purchase. Nor is the wine he also hands to me. A chilled bottle of my favourite Sauvignon Blanc, only available from quality wine merchants in the city.

Frank can be incredibly thoughtful and generous, and I am suitably grateful. I pop the flowers into the kitchen sink while I try to locate a vase big enough to hold them. He walks in as I’m scrabbling around on my hands and knees, bum in the air, head buried in the cupboard under the sink.

“So what are we having for dinner?” He asks as he pours the wine. “Are you cooking?”

I emerge victorious, having found the vase wedged between a bottle of sink unblocker and an unused can of spray starch.

“Sorry?”

“Dinner?” He repeats, helping me to my feet.

“I’ve not had a chance to cook. I told you about the suitcase confusion, didn’t I? Well, I had to get that sorted. I thought we could have something delivered. That’s ok, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure that will be fine, darling. What would you like?”

What would I like? What I would really like would be a huge, great pizza full of carbs and grease and pepperoni and cheese that pulls into strands when you try to take a slice. And to sit on the floor with the pizza box between us watching Netflix and drinking beer.

But, that is clearly a rhetorical question.

“Thai?” Frank doesn’t wait for my answer.

Thai is the only acceptable takeaway in Frank’s eyes, eaten at a table, on proper plates. I nod my agreement. After all, he’s brought me wonderful flowers, and a gorgeous bottle of wine. He deserves to have the choice. And I can have pizza with my friends any time.

“You ring the order through then, while I arrange these beautiful flowers.” I say and kiss his cheek.

And that is our evening sorted - takeaway, a couple of glasses of wine, Newsnight on the television and then to bed for a bit of sex.

So, that’s food, drink, mind and body all sorted. I should go to sleep feeling satisfied with everything. I should… shouldn’t I?

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 2 #fluff

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 20

"Better have a good reason for dragging me out here, fellow."

The nights on this side of the river were unbearably hot, and the wind blew sand into every nook and cranny of person and building alike; Windsor could have sworn he learned in grade school that deserts were chilly at night but Eufala seemed to be different in that regard -- maybe it was the proximity to both the river and ocean, since the humidity alone was enough to make you want to die during the day.

That heat and humidity had already soured his mood by the time he'd returned to his motel room, and finding the little note jammed under his pillow hadn't done much to alleviate it; now here he was out in the middle of the desert, filling his boots with sweat, staring down the muscle-head that had left the note.

Franklin was an intimidating figure whose image was slightly undercut by the moonlight glistening on the healthy amount of sweat on top of his bald head; it was taking every ounce of self control Windsor had to not comment or laugh about it, or stare as a single bead finally ran down off the man's dome and traced a line to the lobe of his ear, then disappeared down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. ((Continued below cut))

"You're not one of them, are you? Duvos soldier, I mean."

Windsor met the man's gaze and shook his head. "Nope - just a humble bounty hunter and mercenary for hire. What's it to you?"

Franklin folded his massive arms with a grunt and a nod. "Figured as much. Listen. Xan's on the hook for some murders. He was given - "given" command of this last job," he repeated, flapping his fingers as he said it, "-and then, poof, dead commander. Xan's rise through the ranks has always been on the backs of the dead -- loads of blood in his wake but never anything that tied him directly to anything, but this one they can't let slide on a maybe."

The man went silent then and Windsor could tell by the look on his face that he was expecting a reaction; he kept his expression blank and let the silence drag on until the meat head was clearly getting frustrated. "Right. And?"

"...and so I'm here to screw things up for him. If he's discredited on something this important then no one is going to care if he disappears. The higher ups are willing to sacrifice another chance at an AI just to get him gone."

Windsor rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going and no thank you. This is your bed - shit in it all you like but I'm not joining you."

Franklin's eyes narrowed. "If Xan takes a fall so do you since you're a part of this damn group."

"I'm not an empire native and also don't give a flying rat's ass about the man or his politics -- if anyone wants to make a stink about it I've got the papers to prove I'm just a hired hand, and if they STILL don't like that I've got ways to get out of their hands. If you want to convince one of the others that they need to save their backsides then by all means do so; I won't stand in your way or narc you out. But leave me out of this."

Franklin growled. "You saw 'em -- they aren't going to break ranks."

Windsor shrugged. "Yeah, and? What would've you done if they HAD?"

"Kidnapped the woman, dragged her back to Duvos - I've got my orders to screw this up but nothing says I can't benefit in the process. So long as the job isn't done as ordered and Xan's embarrassed. He stakes his reputation on his plans always going AS planned down to the letter, so-"

"Oh please, THAT'S your back up plan? Original plan or not that would only make Xan look good! You're as dumb as you look, as dumb as I suspected, and my answer is STILL 'no goddamn thank you.' Mind your business and I'll mind mine."

The other simply narrowed his eyes and glared; Windsor gave it another few breaths then turned to leave. He kept his ears trained for any approaching steps (as he half-expected the man to attack him with his back turned) but he made it back to the motel without issue, and after emptying the sand and sweat out of his boots he unclipped his dagger harness and rolled into bed.

Whatever trouble there was in paradise wasn't any of his concern; he'd been hired to help steal an AI and that was that.

Pity about Xan though...man really did have a reputation for getting things done. Whatever methods he used aside Duvos would surely take a hit in the espionage and acquisitions department if they took Xan out of the chain of command. Was rather interesting to hear that they were actually willing to do something about him...Duvos had some cutthroat politics and supposedly a lot of things were overlooked or praised as being ambitious but whoever that commander had been that he offed must have had parents REALLY far up the chain who had the pull to go after him.

At least Franklin's half-assed recruiting attempt had given him a fair head's up that once they'd paid for his services then Windsor should get the hell out of town and lay low. Maybe he'd leave the meat head enough for a single drink as a parting gift -- assuming the man's own tactics didn't leave him dead at the end of all this.

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

"It's not important right now."

Remington mentally sighed; they'd been trying to get the date of Eli's birthday out of her for five days now and she'd stubbornly insisted each time that they had more pressing matters to attend to. And yes, while technically she was correct, he didn't see any harm in them knowing when to wish her a simple "happy birthday" with the rest of it coming later. It wasn't exactly an argument but whatever you wanted to call it was interrupted by a familiar wobble from his bad knee; he immediately froze -- an impressive feat considering he was partly bent over in a stretching pose, and by shifting his good leg he was able to avoid toppling over onto his head (this time).

Eli grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him straighten up, and when he turned around she was frowning down at his legs. "Stubborn injury, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Been like that for awhile now. I've learned to live with it."

"If we just knew what was wrong I bet Stewart could fix it."

"Really? Even without all the fancy technology?"

She nodded. "Really. I've been trying to get up to speed with Xu about what survived the years and what's been developed since everything fell apart. Kind of makes me wonder if we really NEEDED all that tech back then. Made things easier but at its most basic a lot of surgeries are done in essentially the same way regardless of whether it was a man or machine holding the blade... We had an old saying about reinventing the wheel and while innovation was always pushing for new heights there were a lot of things you could say we had down to an art and couldn't really change. Can't remember the last time I'd read about a new medical advancement...and I was married to a researcher."

With Eli helping he lowered himself into the grass and rubbed gingerly at his knee; every couple of days, on top of any strength training they found the time for, Eli had him working with stretches and light exercises specifically meant to try and help that joint. So far he'd not noticed any changes aside from being constantly sore but at this point he was willing to try just about anything as he didn't relish the idea of living the rest of his life with a leg that was always threatening to suddenly buckle if he moved wrong.

"Still, a lot of things made life easier. Bare minimum," she went on, "I'd love to have at least one functional imaging machine. See everything inside without having to open you up."

"How'd those work?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you, beyond trying to explain how X-rays, radioactive tracers, and magnetic imaging works which, aside from basic facts about them, is well out of my scope of knowledge. Now, if I had Darren, or Peter or Ashley here, any of them could talk themselves blue in the face explaining how any given medical instrument worked. Stewart could explain it too if you're interested."

Peter and Ashley...if memory served those were two of the squad mates they had buried in the graveyard (they'd been keeping a close eye on those graves still) and he certainly knew who Darren was. "I won't bother Stewart with that - he'll have his hands full when the next round of scholars shows up."

With a groan she let her head drop back, staring up into the sky. "Don't remind me. The first group was nosy enough."

"These ones are coming from Vega 5 and ought to be more interested in the technical side of things rather than...well."

She flashed him a smile. "Rather than wanting to study me and how folks in the Old World lived?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I didn't think they were bothering you too much...were they?"

"Not...really? It kind of depends on how you want to quantify it - they didn't ask to meet with me a lot, but when they did they had notebooks full of questions that Stewart's social and technical programming couldn't answer and it'd take me an entire day to get through them."

He frowned. "You could have said something if they were imposing on you too much."

"I could have. But I didn't see a point in it," she sighed. "It was something that needed to be done."

He sat up and looked at her; compared to Arlo or the Flying Pigs he didn't really get a lot of one-on-one time with her outside of these recent stretching sessions but still even he could tell something was a bit...off with her tone. Like she was tired, or sad (and he didn't really need to consider why). "You've got all the time in the world to answer questions."

"Maybe. It just seemed easier to get them out of my hair and get back to-"

"-work?" Remington jutted in. "Doesn't seem like you focus on much else. Is everything all right?"

She blew out a breath that trailed into a buzzing raspberry. "Not you too."

"Me too?"

"You, and Arlo, Asher and Xu - asking if I'm all right or need anything all the time or if someone is bugging me."

"...well, friends do that, don't they?"

"They do, but not every problem or bad mood can be solved by having a friend around."

He bent his good leg so he could rest his arms on his knee, and his chin on his arms, as he gazed up at her thoughtfully. "We just -- it's not meaning to suggest anything beyond just wanting you to know the door's open, you know? I can ask everyone to tone it down but we're just - we care. That's all."

She closed her eyes and, after a moment, slumped her shoulders. "I know, and I get it, and I'm thankful for having friends around ready and willing to support and help. But it's... It's like picking at a scab. Each time I get asked, it's picking - and if you keep picking it never closes or heals, and the scar is a million times worse. And with what they did to Darren's grave I feel like someone took a diamond sander to the scab and ground down to the bone. Just when I thought I was doing better. I talk to Xu, and it helps, but each well-meaning question from everyone else is pulling scabs right now."

"All right. I'll quietly let the others know that you'll come to US if you need something and we should stop asking. But, I do know we do really want to know you, and be your friends, and be there. That's why we wanted to know about your birthday -- heck, if there's any holidays you want to celebrate I know we'll figure that out too."

She rubbed her hands across her face and held them there; when she spoke her voice was muffled but Remington didn't think she sounded too upset. "Birthdays were celebrated only on multiples of 5. I was born on the 15th of the first Spring. I would need to check with Stewart to make sure I've got the years right but I last remember passing my 37th birthday."

Remington nodded slowly, and smiled at her; in his mind, very briefly, he thought 'I'm older than she is' followed immediately by the realization that no, he was not, and no one in the world was older than she was. "All right - I'm sorry if it seemed like I was badgering you on anything but I'm also glad you told me. Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"Please. At least until I hit 40."

"It's a deal. How would you celebrate your birthday back then?"

"Gifts, an elaborate dinner. Costume parties were popular. I always ended up with costume parties because New Year's Dawn had just happened, which was a city-wide costume party so you'd always have something on hand you could wear. You'd go door to door singing songs, playing games, giving gifts, dancing in the streets. You'd stay awake as long as you could but it was expected that you'd stay awake from dawn of the last day of the year to dawn of the second day of the new year."

"That sounds an awful lot like celebrating a holiday, and not your own birthday."

She finally dropped her hands away from her face and shrugged at him. "That's what happened if your birthday fell on or close to a national holiday."

Remington went to stand and tested his weight on his bad leg; there were no wobbles, no twinges, no sudden shooting pains. "Sounds like you've had 37 years of getting the short end of the stick, then."

"You learn to live with it. Ready to keep going?"

He didn't protest the sudden change in subject; with a bit more attention and care to how he was moving his body he managed to get through the rest of the exercises without any further trouble, and though he was pretty sore when they were done he didn't mind it too much -- his next patrol would be on horseback so the joint could rest while he rode.

"We'll get there, slowly but surely," Eli said as she walked him to the gate. "Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"I plan to," he replied with a chuckle. "I was actually just thinking about that." As he latched the gate behind him he could spy Selene heading home - she was just coming out through Portia's gates. "-not to rush off or anything but I better get going. I know Selene is just wanting to pounce over party things."

"Oh I know. She's babbled about your birthday party these last few days. All the more reason for YOU to keep your trap shut."

Remington laughed. "I swear on my honor your secret is safe with me. See you later, Eli."

He hurried off and was able to dodge around Selene with a hurried 'sorry, late for my patrol' and then he was huffing and puffing up the hill toward the Corps building to collect Arrow.

When he got there though he found his saddle was missing. That was odd.

Spacer was there however and that saddle was where it was supposed to be; Remington hurriedly scribbled a note of explanation for Arlo and left it pinned to Spacer's stable stall then saddled him and headed down the road, and wondered how the heck he'd managed to misplace a saddle. Maybe someone had moved it since they were cleaning out the back wall in preparation of replacing a few shelves that were starting to dry rot and his was the only saddle that sat near those particular shelves. Most of what had been sitting on those shelves was currently in a jumbled pile in the corner across from there...maybe he ought to clean a bit of that up when he got back from patrol.

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

He didn't mind that Remington had borrowed Spacer -- the horse liked the man well enough so Arlo knew there wouldn't be any trouble from the animal (unlike Teddy who typically wouldn't let anyone but Sam ride him).

What he DID mind though was by the time he'd found the note the missing saddle was back in its place, and after checking it over he found that a lot of the stitching had been carefully frayed with a knife so that it was highly likely that if Remington had been IN the saddle, moving quickly, and had made any sudden movements or sudden stops, the straps would have given way and dumped him off the horse. Teddy's saddle had likewise been tampered with but not as badly as Arrow's, and Arlo was both relieved he'd discovered that before Sam went out on a ride as well as extremely anxious for Remington's safe return because he had no reason to believe that Spacer's saddle hadn't also been sabotaged.

It was really beginning to feel like whoever was causing their current problems was trying to spread them as thin as possible, as Arlo's first thought upon discovering the sabotaged saddles was "great, now we have to watch the stables."

But...no. That was doing exactly what their spy and or vandal would want.

He still believed that the Stupid Plan idea of Eli's had merit - in fact, this was probably a result of that, assuming their spy was also their vandal - but it was time for a change in strategy.

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

"Looks like we'll be up and running within two weeks then."

It had been awhile since they'd ALL been together out at the facility; they were clustered inside the tent, looking over a collection of blueprints and measurements for the security door and signal transmitters. Eli had been shifted off her patrols and onto helping Selene get the rest of the transmitter parts made, along with the towers they'd be mounted on. With Eli's assistance they wouldn't need to bring in another builder for the assembly (though Higgins was producing the metal struts needed for the towers) and that left Merlin and Petra in charge of assembling the power sources (a mix of hydro, wind, and power stones).

Between work on that, and Mint overseeing the project to get the door installed...two weeks. They would need to manage for two weeks, and then they could bring their full attention down on catching their spy. It was nice to know that the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel wasn't something that was going to run them over.

"Do we have anything new to discuss?" Mali asked, pausing to look around at each of them in turn.

Beside him Arlo cleared his throat and Asher turned to look at him as he leaned forward to brace his hands on the little table.

"Yes, actually. Someone sabotaged all of our saddles yesterday. I think it's time we get a bit more aggressive - try to draw this person out into the open."

"I agree, because whoever this is uh-" Sam stopped abruptly, glancing briefly at Eli, before sighing. "-we had some graffiti to clean up early this morning."

"About me, I'm guessing," Eli said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Nothing too nasty but basically urging you to leave town, claiming you don't belong here, that sort of thing."

"What was the graffiti made with? Do we have any record of anyone buying paint of that color?" Remington asked.

This time she shook her head. "It was done with charcoal - really easy to clean up, thankfully, but it doesn't point to where it came from or who had it. And of course no one saw anyone doing it AND it was all at different heights so we can't really narrow anything down."

Arlo huffed. "Of course. Regardless -- I worry that letting this stretch on any further will only result in someone getting seriously hurt. It's clear our initial plan has definitely made this person more bold - just not bold enough to come close to us like they did at the tent. I think this may be the best we're going to get so we need to come up with our plan to catch them."

Remington nodded, running a hand through his hair briefly; it was hot and stuffy in this tent with all of them inside it and Asher felt his scalp prickle in the heat just watching how Remington's hair clumped together in damp strands. "We've set a trap once before for that rogue knight - we can always do it again."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, drawing out the last word. "The thing is, THAT time we definitely knew what the knight was after. There's a lot more down in the facility besides Stewart and if we set a trap it needs to be baited with whatever it is they're hoping to steal."

"It also needs to look natural - we got away with the last trap since it was in a ruins that were already falling apart. This facility is much more preserved and it's going to be harder to set something up without it looking off," Mali added.

In the brief pause that followed that exchange Asher sat up a bit straighter. "Well, it's common knowledge that we're expanding the clinic in town soon. We could use that as our staging area instead since it's going to be pretty obvious that we're moving Stewart's station there."

Arlo grimaced. "Yes, but that would be dangerous and tricky. Setting this trap would be dependent on no one else being at risk of injury -- we know this person is armed, after all, and we can't control when someone might try to trip the trap. I don't want to put Dr. Xu or Harrison, or anyone else who might be at the clinic, in danger."

Eli lightly elbowed Asher in the ribs. "AND I don't want Stewart's tech in danger of being damaged either -- if it breaks that's it because while I MIGHT know how to fix it it won't be as simple as heading down to the shop to pick up the right parts."

"Yeah...you're right about that part," Asher muttered. "So it would have to be replicas, and we'd be guessing at what the spy would go for. Do you think they'd actually know what to grab if we baited them with the server stuff or basic computer pieces?"

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Assuming they're not expecting that again? I could make something that looks genuine, important, and expensive."

Remington let out a thoughtful noise, leaning toward Eli. "How complicated would it be to do that? I don't even know what...whatever we're talking about looks like."

"Not...TOO complicated, I don't think? I -- hang on, wait. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves I need to know what's common knowledge about tech these days. Exactly how complicated and fancy I'd need to make the replicas would kind of depend on what people know or think these things look like."

They all fell silent; Asher glanced about and could see lots of thoughtful faces - he was hopeful that that meant someone had an answer, because he definitely didn't. Technology wasn't something he studied or thought about much and he'd consider himself the last person anyone ought to be asking about Old World stuff.

Finally, Mali tipped her head back to look up toward the tent's ceiling. "There's some common knowledge about Old World components but it's mostly regarding the things we commonly find. Everyone knows what chipsets are, circuit boards, monitors and displays, and odds and ends that get lumped together just as 'old parts.' We also have access to old engines of varying types that we've successfully re-created ourselves so we no longer need to rely on digging them up. In this case... I'm not sure I have the answer. But I know who would."

There was a brief pause then Arlo nodded. "Ah, right. The scholars from Vega 5 will be here soon."

Mali nodded. "Vega 5 is full of people who have studied Living AIs, and they and Atara both have large libraries full of blueprints and books on Old World tech along with everything their museums have catalogued on display. They'd be the ones to ask about what they would consider common knowledge."

"But would they know what's common knowledge in Duvos though?" Eli asked.

Mali shrugged. "It's possible. I'm not privy to everything that's been discovered through the Alliance's information networks -- the Flying Pigs are an adventuring guild who sometimes get tapped to help provide law enforcement. I know more than most but ultimately we're not a military group so we're only told what we need to know for the tasks we're given." Eli scratched at her cheek; Asher noted that, due to the heat and sweat, the simple gesture left a pair of angry red marks across her skin "Right... Maybe I should go talk to Gale when we're done here -- er, assuming you aren't putting me back on patrol duty?" she added after a moment, looking to Arlo.

"No, go talk to Gale - this is important. Afterward get back to those signal transmitters," came Arlo's answer.

"Understood."

"You sure you don't need an extra pair of hands with those things?" Asher asked then, looking between Arlo and Eli. "At the very least I can tote and carry."

Arlo considered that for a moment, then glanced to Eli. "Your thoughts?"

She huffed out a breath. "Carrying, sure. But it'd just slow us down if we have to explain how to assemble. We DO need someone to start bundling the tower pieces and that's also something you could do without much instruction needed - get the finished bits from Higgins, ensure we've got everything, sort it out into sets for assembly. Basic stuff."

"All right -- go ahead and help them with the heavy lifting and getting the tower parts ready to transport. Eli, once you've talked to Gale come find me in the Corps building -- Mali, if you'd like to join me for that feel free." Mali and Eli both nodded, and Arlo blew out a breath. "I think that covers everything-"

"Hey- HEY!"

They all jumped to their feet at the shout from beyond the tent; Asher was still getting to know a lot of the townsfolk but he thought that sounded a lot like--

As he was closest to the tent flap Asher stuck his head out to see Albert sprinting toward them; when the man saw him he started waving his hands and his sprint was slowing. Asher in turn hurried out of the tent and began running toward him, faintly aware of the sound of several pairs of feet following along behind him, and about halfway to the man Albert came to a stop entirely and doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Portia...ruins...cave in..." Albert was gasping as Asher came skidding to a stop beside him. "One under...church..."

"Oh hell," Asher muttered. He spun around as Eli, Arlo, Mali, and Remington reached them. "Cave in at the ruins under the church."

"Was anyone hurt?" Arlo asked immediately. Albert could only nod as he struggled to catch his breath and Arlo broke into a run again while calling orders over his shoulder. "Asher - take Albert to the tent to catch his breath. Remington and Eli with me."

The others went running off and Asher put a hand on Albert's shoulder. "Sit down here in the grass, mind the marshy spots - we'll take a minute here and then we'll walk to the tent, all right?"

"I'll ask Sam to stay out here with Adam," Mali interrupted. "After that I will join Arlo and the others in town - stay with Albert until he's recovered then escort him back to town."

"Got it," Asher replied. Mali immediately ran back the way she'd come and Asher turned his attention back to Albert. "Deep breaths, man, it'll be all right. Do you know what happened?"

Albert took several more breaths; he seemed to be breathing a bit easier. After an especially deep breath he lifted his head to look up at Asher. "Not...a clue. Heard a...loud noise. Couple folks...out of the ruins, shouting...about a cave in. Gale already there...told me to come get you all. I was closest."

Damn it... They should have had this meeting at the Corps building, not all the way out here; even as he thought that he knew that was very unfair as all their patrol routes for this morning had had them all out this way and it was quickest and easiest to gather here, but... Well, honestly it could have been worse timing. At least out here they'd all been in one place but had this happened at any other time of day or any other day in general they would've been spread across the countryside with only two of them in town.

"Think you can make it to the tent? We'll get some water in you, can sit a bit, then we'll head back to Portia."

Albert nodded and straightened and the two of them began to (slowly) walk toward the Pigs's tent. Mali was already heading back toward them and they exchanged nods as she passed and kept on going.

"What kind of loud noise did you hear?"

"Just a loud boom and a rumbling."

Asher frowned - a loud boom? "Like...a KABOOM-kind of boom? Like something exploded?"

"I couldn't tell you. It was more - more of a sound that sort of hit you in the chest, more than in the ears, and one you could feel through your feet. Our building is closest to those ruins so it's no wonder that we heard something."

"We? You and Gust I'm guessing?"

Albert nodded. "I went to the ruins, and Gust went for Gale. And then Gale told me to run out here."

"How many came out of those ruins?"

"Um - I saw three folks. Covered in dust, one of them was bloodied. They were all shaken up and just shouting 'cave in cave in' over and over."

Asher went quiet, chewing on his lower lip. He wanted to simply believe that the ruins had partially collapsed but something nagged at him over it; the Civil Corps and the Flying Pigs both conducted regular inspections of all ruins across the Alliance of Free Cities to make sure they remained safe for public use. There's NO WAY they would've missed a structural weakness that was so dangerous as to cause a cave in...someone on the inside had to have caused this. A careless digger, or...

The saddles might have just been the first attempt to send a message.

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

Four injured, one dead. All in all, considering there had been eight people inside the ruins at the time of the collapse, it could have been much worse.

Still. It was slightly guilt-inducing to feel relieved that ONLY one person had been killed -- no one was sure where she'd come from but they'd matched her description to the list of Happy Apartment hotel-based rentals so they had a name but no way to contact any next of kin, nor did they know if this Kara person had any sort of surname at all either. It would make for a somewhat plain headstone but at least they had the first name.

Sam, along with Mali and Higgins, had worked quickly to get a makeshift door in place and the rest of the entryway to the ruins boarded up; tomorrow Dana would be traveling to Portia to help Mali investigate what had caused the collapse. Sam had wanted to go in with them as well but she'd gotten a resounding "no" from Arlo, Mali, and Gale - all at the same time, no less. She supposed that made sense as she wasn't a miner or builder or anyone who would know anything about structural integrity (or whatever Mali had called it), and the fewer people at risk inside for a follow up collapse, the better.

As she walked up the hill toward the Corps building it was hard to miss the silence in this half of town; Ack hadn't been at his usual spot in the plaza, there weren't any tourists or townsfolk walking about. Even the Round Table had seemed a bit quiet when she'd passed by moments ago.

Portia had certainly had a streak of bad luck lately... The pessimistic side of her wondered how the spy would find a way to take advantage of the chaos.

As she crested the hill she spotted a man leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the central plaza; he had his back to her but she recognized the coat he had on (even in this heat).

"Bob? I thought you would've moved on by now," she called out.

The man jumped and spun around, stumbling a bit as he boot caught on an upraised stone. "Huh! Huh? Well. Yeah, maybe. Thought I should. Been tired lately."

Sam nodded and walked over, crossing her arms and eying the man. He was a harmless drifter and she didn't suspect anything of him but he was also somewhat regular - he arrived in the spring, left at the start of the summer season, and then came back mid-autumn. "Something wrong?"

"Not really. Just got a feeling. Road might not be safe."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I remember someone telling me there was a thief around. I don't carry valuables. But that's not all someone could take."

"Bob... Do you think someone's trying to harm you in some way?" she asked.

The man fidgeted a bit. "Not me. I think? But I've seen some ghosts. Footprints out of thin air. I don't want to share a road with it."

Sam stared at him. "...where did you see these footprints? Can you show me?"

Bob shook his head. "Not now - been too long. Saw them on the beach while I was stargazing. Walking west. Too close to where I'd pass going back south."

"How long ago was this?"

The man shrugged, then scratched at his head. "Not sure. I don't do so well with time anymore."

"But it was recent, at least?"

He nodded; Sam mulled that over -- it sounded like Bob had spotted their spy out in the wild. "How about we walk together to where you saw the footprints and you tell me whatever you can remember about when you saw them and what you were doing?"

He nodded again and walked with her back down the hill. As they passed under the gates she wondered if she shouldn't call for back up but... Well. She could think of a lot of reasons to do so, and the reasons not to didn't seem as convincing so as they continued down the road she gestured for them to detour toward Selene's house. Eli ought to be in the factory helping assemble, and Asher ought to be here too. Surely one of them could shift over to walk out to...wherever, with her and Bob.

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

That she hadn't known Kara made it easier to look genuine when it came to keeping her expression appropriately sad-looking as they buried the woman; it was a small ceremony with a smattering of Portians present, along with the full force of the Civil Corps -- being as she didn't see them she assumed that the Flying Pigs members were out at the facility, as usual. They seemed to never, ever leave the place unguarded and, as she'd discovered the other evening while doing some recon, there was a gigantic build project of some kind being carried out at the facility's entrance now -- if she had to guess it looked like some sort of covering, or door.

That likely meant they were really doubling down on the security out there, and while what she was after was being moved out of the facility she was beginning to get worried -- if they sealed that place up tight that would free the Pigs up to directly watch the construction of the clinic addition and the installation of the All Source AI.

And that would make Lily's job even harder while now also being down a team member.

After the funeral it was announced that the ruins would be closed for the time being to conduct an investigation into the cause of the collapse; that at least didn't effect any of them remaining but it ALSO carried the high risk of bringing in more outside people -- more Pigs, more nosy law-types, the possibilities were starting to pile up.

Days ago she'd been bitching about how long it was taking them to start construction; she'd seen buildings put up in a matter of days in Duvos -- how hard could one addition to an already existing building be?

Now... As much as she didn't want to disappoint Xan, they might indeed have to change their plans to have any chance of this heist succeeding.

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

They always put out the paper on the first of every month. Always. Without fail -- even if it meant that she and Erwa stayed up all night fixing issues with their printing press machine or working to get wording on an article juuuuust right.

The first of the month was still six days away but Gale had asked for a special edition to be produced. It was the hardest thing Mei had ever had to write: all this...all this alarming detail on a vandal, a thief attempting to break into the medical facility in the marsh, and now the devastating discovery that the cave in two days ago had been purposely caused by tiny explosive charges. It was such awful news that sometimes Mei found her hand shaking as she scribbled notes and drew arrows or crossed out paragraphs as she tried to get things into order both chronologically and also in a manner that flowed well for reading.

There were still a few hours to go before they needed to start printing and there was just one thing Mei wanted to get done before then but then again... It wasn't a nice subject and she didn't want to offend anyone - especially not the person she'd like to interview regarding all this.

But. She wouldn't know if she'd be offending unless she asked.

Selene's workshop was a familiar sight - Mei had been out here a lot over the years, both before and after large city projects were announced and completed with the builder's help - so she knew better than to knock on the house's door and instead marched up to to the factory door and really gave it a good pounding. After a few minutes the door opened and an oil-smudged Selene was framed in the doorway, and once it registered who was there Mei was offered a big, bright smile.

"Hey! What're you doing out here?"

"Hello Selene! I was wondering if Eli was still here?"

Selene nodded and stepped aside, gesturing with one hand toward a makeshift workbench set up perpendicular to her usual one; lined up shoulder to shoulder was Eli, Petra, and Merlin, all hurriedly working to assemble bits and doodads that Mei guessed was all meant to fit into a much bigger contraption of some kind.

It was unusually quiet in here today as well; only a handful of the machines were running -- that must mean whatever Selene was working on either didn't need a lot of pieces or maybe it was almost complete. She stepped inside and out of the way so Selene could close the door and then noted that the latest member of the Civil Corps, Asher, was sorting large metal struts and rods into organized piles against the far wall, moving about in short bursts and then checking off things on a clipboard he had hanging off his belt.

"I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't, am I?"

"Not really - we can spare a pair of hands for a bit." Selene led Mei over toward Eli and the Research Center gals. "Mei's wanting to talk to you, Eli."

The woman looked up at them (though Mei noticed her hands didn't stop what they were doing - it was kind of impressive to see her keep working without her looking at the pieces) and silently lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh - um, yes. I was wondering if you could spare some time to give a few statements for the article we're writing for the paper?" Mei asked into the pause.

"Uh..." Eli drew the word out, returning her attention to what her hands were doing. It seemed immediately clear that whatever her answer was going to be it would have to wait until she'd finished off this piece of...whatever it was; Mei waited patiently, and watched with a bit of curiosity, until Eli had slotted all the pieces together and tightened down all the screws. "-all right, sure. Let's step outside for some air."

Mei led the way outside and then followed as Eli took an abrupt turn to the western side of the factory -- there was a cluster of stools out here and they both settled on one, and Mei hurried to pull out her little notebook.

"All right - of course, if you find any of my questions upsetting it's perfectly fine not to answer. I don't mind at all!"

Eli nodded. "Ask away."

"How would you say the situation is currently going?"

"Which one are you referring to?"

"Let's start with the vandal. It couldn't have been easy to see the gravestone damaged like that."

For several breaths Eli didn't answer. Mei sat patiently with her pen poised over the blank sheet of notebook paper with her free hand pinning the loose edge down; this side of the factory was currently in the shade and the breeze was a bit strong as the wind rushed along the flat brick. It was a nice place to sit but if she wasn't careful her notes would get scattered across the yard since not all the pages were still bound to the wire spiral.

"It wasn't, no. It's clear whoever did it wanted their message heard, and intended it to hurt. It did, I won't lie, but also, it really shows just how much of a coward this person is since they didn't confront me directly. Same with all the other instances of graffiti lately -- they're not brave enough to say anything to my face. In that context, it's a bit comical."

It took about the same amount of time for Mei to write that down as it had for Eli to say it. "-and do you have any guesses as to who this person is?" Eli shook her head but didn't elaborate; Mei added a little mark after the quote to remind herself of the answer. "How about things out at the medical facility? Has there been any further attempts to break in?"

"No, and soon there won't be any chances of a break in either. We're installing a security door and will work toward preserving the facility as it is."

Mei had heard about the door - she wondered what it would look like when it was done. "And do you have any opinion on the expansion at the clinic, since it's rumored that you'll be incorporating an All Source AI into the building?"

Eli blinked at her. "Incorp- uh, maybe that definition has changed in three hundred years but we're not incorporating him into anything. He'll be installed and be there to teach and treat, but he won't be in charge of or able to run the clinic by himself. For one, there's no other computers or AIs for him to oversee, and secondly the building will be just a building without any tech for him to monitor either."

"Do you have any worries about how having an All Source AI teaching humans would be seen in the greater world?"

With a loud sigh Eli leaned back against the brick wall. "I do, sort of. I worry that zealots in your Church won't be able to look past him being a part of the Old World and try to destroy him, in which case all the knowledge he holds would be lost along with him. Hand in hand with that I also worry about what he'd be teaching and to whom."

Mei looked up from her notes in surprise. "You think he'd teach something bad? Or bad people?"

"Not exactly "bad" in either case, its more I worry people will try to somehow hoard the knowledge -- even hypothetical enemies deserve the right to live disease and injury free. I wouldn't really say there's right and wrong people to teach, but I do think there will be people out there who think they're the only ones who have a right to the knowledge, or who think some knowledge is fine but some of it should be scrubbed from history. We even had a bit of a problem with myths and misinformation regarding certain diseases in my time and that was with an entire world's worth of knowledge available to anyone at any time."

Mei slowly nodded at that; it reminded her of an article she'd written a few years ago about the push-back of remedies coming from a doctor in Vega 5. "So, even if people don't want to keep the knowledge to themselves there's also a question of whether some would accept it, at all."

"Exactly. I imagine there's going to be a lot of entrenched doctors scattered across the world who think their way is best and will be unwilling to change. It'll be a bit messy in the upcoming years but I hope the overall health and life expectancy of the world goes up as the knowledge spreads -- and hopefully it'll be fairly uniform across the world, not just in small clusters due to hoarding or refusal to adapt."

With her hand cramping from how quickly she was trying to write Mei managed to get all that down in her notes; she'd gotten a little carried away as she'd only wanted a few lines to quote but this could potentially be an article all on its own. She was just about to shut the book when a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Right - there's been a lot of questions about the metal towers that were put up recently. Are you able to explain what those are for?"

"You guys use telegraphs for long distance communication, right?"

Mei nodded. "For messages that can't wait for couriers."

"Right. So, those towers are the first of many that will hold...how to put it in simple terms... Think of a telegraph that doesn't need wires, is more reliable and secure, and also can just send words instead of having to tap a little button and have someone translate at the other end. We're trying it out here in Portia and maybe in the future, assuming it works and can be reliably maintained, we could extend it across the continent."

"What, really?" Mei asked, eyes widening. "That's huge!"

Eli was giving her an amused look and Mei realized her jaw was hanging open; she scrawled an almost unreadable note about the towers underneath the rest of it. "Ah, um - uh, so, when will THAT project be completed?"

"It'll take some time. Getting everything installed is the easy part. Getting it all to work correctly will be hard."

"So...no...expected...completion date yet?" Mei asked as she wrote, glancing up from the writing to Eli, then underlining the 'no' as Eli shook her head. "That's very exciting... Will it be something anyone could use? Will it cost a lot?"

Eli paused, then offered a half shrug. "Well, I guess that first answer is yes and no. In terms of complexity anyone will be able to use it because it's not difficult at all to learn, but initially there's going to be a problem with getting parts to both maintain and expand it so there won't be a lot of the system in place for widespread use to start. I don't have any idea on cost just yet - we're using a combination of wind, water, and power stones to start off with. I'm relatively certain I know how much energy this will draw but won't know exact numbers until its been up and running for awhile."

"And...you're ok with this technology spreading?"

Eli snorted loudly. "I am," she replied, placing heavy emphasis on 'I.' "No idea about the rest of the world."

Mei hummed to herself as she put down a few more notes. "This could be an article by itself... All right. That was everything I had in mind for this piece. Unless you'd like to add anything?"

"Not in particular."

"Well, thank you!" Mei said, smiling and shoving a hand toward her. Eli shook it with a bit of a smile and then stood. "I'll get this over to the paper and you'll be seeing it in print soon!"

Eli didn't reply beyond nodding, then led the way around the building where she went back inside while Mei headed toward the gate; she felt a bit lightheaded -- like she was floating across the grass. The prospect of a better, more secure communications system that was instantaneous made her giddy; imagine how much faster information could travel. Imagine how quickly a message back home could reach family...how much easier it would be to stay in touch with the Atara Post about her progress with the Portia Times.

There were dozens of ways she could instantly imagine her life getting easier if this communication thing worked, and that was just for HER - she couldn't even clearly conceive all the ways the entire Alliance could make use of such a thing.

As she walked through the doors into the news building she managed to pull her thoughts away from the communications scoop and set herself back on track regarding the special edition Gale had asked them to put out; it didn't appear Erwa was here but that was ok - Mei could work on a rough draft and get his opinion later when he came back.

Eli hadn't been the only one she'd interviewed today so the first order of business was to quickly reread her notes and decide where to insert Eli's bit into the order she'd tentatively decided on earlier; this article needed to be a direct and firm read, with a logical flow to the information, but it couldn't have a tone to it that would cause undue alarm. People had a right to know that the cave in was actually a murder, but how to word it so that it wouldn't cause a panic in town...

And also, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to include anything referencing the communications project. Prior to talking to Eli she'd assumed the towers were related to the security project out at the facility but now it seemed they were unrelated to each other, and...well, if they had a vandal snooping around it wouldn't do to draw attention to something this valuable.

...yeah. It made more sense to relegate the communications towers to its own separate article, AFTER the vandal (or murderer? Or both?) had been taken care of. At the very least that cut out a good amount of information she would've had to figure out how to fit onto the front page with everything else.

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

Windsor had "claimed" a small area of the Peach Plaza for his impromptu performances; a decent number of people expected him to be there in the mornings and later at night, showing off his juggling and throwing skills (a few had even donated some small straw targets for him to use so he'd changed up his routine a bit). It may have just been a cover job but it was bringing in decent money; it was a nice little perk to the whole thing but if they didn't get moving on this theft job soon he wouldn't be able to keep playing off the "too poor to go back home" angle of his cover story.

The atmosphere in Portia seemed a bit...strange this morning. There weren't nearly as many people moving about in the central plaza as usual, and as he went plodding up the hill passed the shops he was a bit alarmed to see a small crowd of people that WEREN'T his usual audience huddled roughly in his spot near the fountain. As he drew closer he could see all of them clutching papers in hand, and there was a dull roar of chatter among them. In their midst was a squat, hairy man in an orange vest and hat, and a blonde woman wearing a blue and white pointy hat; they appeared to be handing out whatever the paper was, and when he finally got close enough to the gathering he saw it was a thin newspaper with "SPECIAL EDITION" printed in big, bold letters across its top with "Portia Times" printed in slightly smaller text beneath it.

Through a gap in the crowd the hat-wearing blonde noticed him, and carefully wound her way through the group toward him with one of the papers in hand, pushed out toward him.

"Good morning, sir - would you like to read this special release of the Portia Times? This copy is free, paid for by Portia's government."

"Uh...sure. What seems to be the ruckus?" he replied, taking the paper and skimming the-

...oh. Oh boy. Well, that wasn't good.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 20 #Arlo #Mali #Remington #Sam #Flying Pigs #Albert #Mei #My Time at Portia

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oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

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ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 08

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Unedited. This is kind of a filler chapter. Finally entering Phase 2 of this story. Lol yall don’t know what that means, but my goodness did it take a while. Please ignore any typos!

(Word Count: 6.1K)

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Y/N:

He hates me. I know it. I crossed the line. That’s probably what I did. I kissed him on the cheek? I confessed my feelings and probably made him even more uncomfortable? Way to go Y/n! Way to go!

It’s been 7 days since the Charity Gala, and while things were buzzing in the news about the transportation company that was being sued for the “loss” of the real artworks, Hoseok has been ignoring me like the plague. Or so I think.

Jennie and I are at the headquarters as much as we are at the hospital and in each visit, and I haven’t seen Hoseok once. No one said anything about him, or where he might be, so I can only assume I angered him. My heart feels...crushed? I thought there was a warm moment, a real moment somewhere in that night of fake hugs and smiles.

It must have been the alcohol getting to my head, thinking that something was...beginning. It was silent as Jennie and I cleaned up the operating area, the patient still not woken as he rested in the recovery bed.

This is 3rd surgery Jennie and I have performed for the black market. I seem to be the only uncomfortable, seeing as Jennie hums calmly while stripping the dirty gloves off her hands and slipping off the disposable plastic apron to reveal the dark blue scrubs that I also wore. I copied her motions, slipping my gloves off and throwing the apron into the trash bin.

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips. After the patient was awake and well enough to leave, we’ll have to come back and clean the area better.

I looked over at Jennie who stared back at me with a knowing look, “Jungkook said he was buying fried chicken for everyone.” She spoke softly, glancing towards the knocked-out patient. I wordlessly walked past her to the sink, washing my hands with soap and drying them off.

I moved to the side, giving her the space to do the same. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and though I nagged her about that being inappropriate for surgery, she looked like a chich college student.

I stood by the sink waiting for her while she hummed to herself. She’s been very happy lately. It’s because of Jaehyun. He makes her happy, and the love radiating from her was depressing. She cheered me on, telling me that the kiss on the cheek was a brave move. It was a great move! I was being assertive!

But why do I feel like shit? Not a single text, not a call or even an order passed down to Jungkook. Hoseok is missing in action, and no one wants to admit it. If he didn’t hate me before, he hates me now.

We walked out of the room and out the lobby area, finding a chaotic scene. Six men seated around the large round table, fussing and bickering with boxes of fried chicken sat between them. I snickered at the scene, watching Jin stood from his seat to yell at Taehyung.

“You said you didn’t like Lemon pepper! Why are they over on your side!” His voice echoed through the place, while his eyes widen. He shook his head vigorously and his face turned a bright red. Giggles emerged in the room as Taehyung pushed the basket of chicken across the table.

I quietly walked up to a seat beside Namjoon who showed me a kind smile.

“Done with the surgery already?” Jimin chimes. I nod, glancing over the different types of chicken. Jennie sits about 3 seats away from me, digging into the food right away. Namjoon pushes a basket of some wings, silently offering it to me.

“Is Hoseok avoiding me?” I asked softly, I was hoping they wouldn’t hear me. That the loud smacking of lips as they ate would drown out my words, but everyone stopped to look at me. Yoongi’s brows furrowed and he looked towards the others as if they had the answer.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked from beside me. I sighed, leaning forward, looking over the wings once more.

“I haven’t seen him since the gala, and he’s not ordering me around like he usually does…” I trail off as I realize I sound like a whining child.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at me, chewing the last of the food in his mouth before speaking.

“Boss traveled Y/n, I thought you knew,” Jungkook said a matter of a fact. My mouth made a small O shape, embarrassment consuming my whole body.

“He traveled?” I questioned, looking to Jin who was nodding slowly.

“He left 2 days after the gala, he has some business in Japan. I told him to tell you, but I guess he didn’t.” Jungkook adds with his eyes focused on the wing in his hands. His gaze flickered up to me knowingly.

Jungkook hasn’t asked me what we were arguing about at the gala when he interrupted, the ride home is silent, while I sniffled and wiped my tears. I can’t be certain why I was crying. Maybe it was because he thought so little of my feelings? Or he found it so hard to believe that someone could like him?

“Why would Boss avoid you?” Namjoon asked, before pointing at the wings he set in front of me. It was silent order to start eating or he was going to take them for himself.

I reached forward and grabbed one wing, twisting it around with my fingers. I can’t be sure what the flavor is, but that didn’t matter right now. The room grew quiet, some chewing and shuffling containers being all that’s heard.

I sighed, “I kissed him--”

“You kissed boss?!” Jungkook exclaims in...excitement?

“--On the cheek!” I add quickly, not wanting him to jump to conclusions.

“Wow noona” Jungkook said with his wide eyes gleaming, “and what did he do?

I shrugged, “Nothing. He didn’t say or do anything.” I took a bite of the wing, looking up to see all the guys at the table smiling slightly.

“So what were you so worried about?” Taehyung voices as he reaches for a napkin to clean his mouth.

“I thought I crossed the line? I didn’t want to anger him or come on too strong.” I was hesitant to say anymore. I only really talk to Jungkook. This is the first time I’m really having a conversation with anyone. Other than Yoongi of course. I didn’t feel uncomfortable though.

The older guys, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, weren’t strangers; but they certainly weren’t close friends. They work the closest with Hoseok, so I don't see them as often as I do Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. They do the more of the details for Hoseok. They aren’t as eager to share as the younger guys.

“Hoseok will only protest never encourage.” When Seokjin says it like he’s solved the case, my brows furrow. I’m not following.

After meeting my unclear facial expression, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“He didn’t say anything, so he didn’t hate it. If he didn’t like it, he’d let you know for sure.”

“That’s just how Hoseok is.” Yoongi adds simply, “And if you are so curious to what he’s up to, just call him.”

“Call him?”

“Duh. If you’re bothering him, he won’t even pick up. You’ve already gone ahead to do something bold like kissing him, you can’t get bashful now.” Yoongi starts to work on another wing, taking a big bite before reaching for the open water bottle on the table. He pushes his hair back, despite the thick headband that was already feeding that purpose.

Jennie hadn’t spoken this whole time, too busy stuffing her face with wings. I kept eating while she wiped her mouth with her arm, my eyes widening at the uncharacteristic behavior. Jaehyun is rubbing off on her and that’s clear. Jennie used to be ...stiff. A bit stuck up but not enough to come off as a bitch.

She had high standards and expected only the finer things, yet she would also go with the flow of things, not wanting on the chance to experience something she could later brag about. Since meeting Jaehyun, she has loosened up in terms of the proper chip that was on her shoulder.

“I say,” She takes a sip of water, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her water to take.

She repeats herself, “I say you keep on with what you’re doing. Be forward. You have to be with a laid back guy like Hoseok. Call him, holding his hand, kiss his cheek and all that. If he says he doesn’t like it, stop.”

Taehyung claps his hands together, “We won’t say anything about it and act oblivious! Just do what feels right and we’ll act like it’s nothing new!”

Taehyung pumps his fight up into the air, the whole action being something you’d expect if he was drunk.

“Operation ‘help Boss understand Y/n’s feelings’ is a go!”

“He understands,” I mumble, “I told him that I liked that despite his lifestyle.”

Taehyung shook his head, “No Y/n...we need him to understand!” He deepened his voice on the word ‘understand’.

“Hyung is very smart, but he’s also...dense when it comes to things like this. For him to understand, he needs to see actions. Once he feels like he’s got a handle on the situation, he’ll possibly respond or make a move.”

I chuckled, “You really know Hoseok really well.”

Taehyung kisses his teeth, “I’ve been studying the mystery that is Jung Hoseok for 8 years now.”

~!~

It sounded so easy when the others were talking about it. Call him. Don’t text him, but call him. But now that I am lying on my bed, the butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I look at the clock on my wall to see that it’s nearing 10pm, I’m sure he’s awake.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling and finding his contract. I pressed his name and watched the screen change as the number dialed. I placed the phone on speaker, staring up at the ceiling while I waited, hoping to hear his voice.

A few more rings later, and it went to voicemail. I sighed, hanging up before it could start recording. Of course, he’s busy. According to Namjoon, Hoseok is going for his actual investment work. One day I’ll get Hoseok to tell me more about his investment company. It’s thriving and doing well.

I turned onto my side, sleep suddenly growing heavy on my eyes. It’s been a long day and I was finally feeling the tiring work of the day while my body relaxed and went slack against my bed and pillow.

I don’t remember how long my eyes were closed before I felt a buzzing vibrating the bed. My eyes fluttered open, and though my vision was blurry, I could make out the caller ID.

I grabbed my phone quickly, swiping to answer and hitting the speaker button. I set it down on my bed, staring at the black screen while soft breathing sounded through the iPhone speaker.

“Doc.” He said quietly. He sounded bored, with no sense of urgency or sleepiness. I looked at the clock again. It is 11:34pm.

“Hi.” I croaked, eyes widen at my own voice. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could.

“I woke you up.” He said, almost sounding sorry.

I shook my head slowly as if he could see me lying there in my bed, with my hair a mess and my baggy T-shirt and shorts.

“I don’t mind. I don’t work tomorrow.” I answered. There a beat of silence, and I can hear cars zooming in the background.

“You called me?” He sounded annoyed, not because I called, but the fact that I wasn’t speaking.

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I didn’t realize you traveled.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, it was sort of last minute. I had to handle some business.” He replied.

“Oh, I see.” I pause for a moment, “I hope I’m not bothering you when you’re busy.” I rush out that last bit, my nerves getting to me.

“No, you’re not.”

“Ok, cool. Umm...how much longer are you staying in Japan?” My desperate attempts at preventing an awkward silence.

“Why?” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Do you miss me?” He chuckles soon after, showing that he was teasing. I bit on my bottom lip nervously as he laughed. I gripped my bedsheets in on hand and closed my eyes, thinking of how I should be bold. Without opening my eyes I spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I miss you a lot.” Hearing the words leave my lips caused my skin to tingle. My eyes remain closed while I listen to Hoseok on the other line. His laughter dies down and I heard a slight shuffle. He doesn’t speak for a short time, leaving me in my dread and fear.

“I’ll be back in 4 days,” His teasing tone was no more, he spoke simply and plainly. My shoulders drop in relief. He’s ignoring my statement, which I regret even saying so him ignoring it is for the best. I heard more shuffling and what sounded like a car door closing.

My eyes stay closed as I speak again.

“Good,” My voice is light, sleepiness taking hold of me again. I yawned lightly, and we sit in silence for a little while.

“Go to bed, Y/n.” Sounding like he was ordering a child. But I was too tired to say something smart.

“Good night Hoseok, sorry for bothering you,” I muttered.

He takes in a deep breath, sounding like he made up his mind on something, “Y/n?”

I hum in reply, irritation rising as he was keeping me from falling asleep.

“Whenever you start missing me, just call me.” He said the words casually, but he spoke quietly this time. My eyes snapped open in surprise. He cleared his throat, showing discomfort with his own words. He’s nervous? I looked at my phone in time to see the screen flash to black as he hung up the phone without a goodbye.

What...did...he--

He said to call him whenever I start missing him? I laid there with my eyes wide and my mind empty. My heart racing to the point of my vision vibrating as I stared blankly at the wall opposite of me.

The conversation was short, awkward and almost forced but...it wasn’t awful. I would like to think that he enjoyed our conversation. He also didn’t say anything about the kiss or the gala. But it was nice to have a small normal chat.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me.

My lips turned up into a shy smile, “He’s too cute.” I say to no one in particular.

To say, nothing had changed...wrong. But to say things had changed would also be wrong. Hoseok hasn’t brought up the gala, the kiss or even the investigation being conducted on the small delivering company that is being accused of swapping the real art with fake art.

Hoseok wasn’t really attempting to make conversation, but he wouldn’t suggest hanging up whenever we sat in silence. He comes back from Japan tomorrow, but I’ve called him 2 more times in the past 3 days. Usually later at night, when he is on his way back to the hotel. Calling him the second time was harder than calling the first time.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. What was that? Where did that come from? He doesn’t make mention of it again, and neither do I. But it feels like his words loomed over us with every conversation we had. Like he wanted to say something about it but was waiting for me to bring it up.

I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the shuffling of bedsheets and blankets. Unlike the other times I called, Hoseok was actually in his hotel bed this time. Since our conversations were barely conversations. I’d ask him how his day was, I’d get a one-word answer followed by me desperately trying to keep the flow of things going. I wanted to try and dig deeper. If he doesn’t want to tell me. He won’t.

“Hoseok?” My voice sounds quiet and lacks confidence. When he replies he sounds distracted and I can faintly hear his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

“Yeah?” He sounds distracted.

“So you took over for your father when you were 16?” I asked timidly, a slight tremble in my voice. I heard another shuffle, with a small sigh following after.

“Yeah,” He answered, “No big deal.”

He was trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to move on that quickly.

“It must have been scary...dealing with the death of your father, but also being ushered into such a big role.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. My heart dropped a bit, feeling the peaceful chat turning dour.

“I’m not pitying you, I just imagine it must have been hard.”

“I managed, I had the guys to help me out. I did what was expected of me and I turned out fine.”

I opened my mouth to reply but he kept speaking, so I sat and listened.

“My dad was sick, and I knew what was coming so I was ready for it. I prepared and was able to move forward.”

“How do you prepare for something like that? Taking such a big role I mean.”

He groans, “I don’t know. I just stopped hanging out with friends, I stopped my hobbies and things like that. My relationship with the guys also changed. It was...rough.”

My eyes perked up, “You knew the guys before?”

Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle, a bitterness underlying the action.

“They were my best friends before I became their boss.” He sounded sad, and I felt sad as well. There was a longing in his voice. How much as his relationship with the boys changed? They seem...close, right? I wouldn’t exactly call their relationship the typical friendship, but I wouldn’t say it’s lacking.

Before I respond, ready to reassure Hoseok, a thought enters my mind. I don’t know what their friendship was before, and how or why did the guys agree to do such work for Hoseok? Were they already aware of Hoseok’s father and the lifestyle he had?

“They’re still your best friends now.” I inject, wondering why he was speaking in the past tense.

He scoffs, “Nah, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Why?”

“They just work for me at this point, I doubt they like me anymore.” The statement sounded so insecure. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The flashbacks to Taehyung’s cheeky smile as he spoke about Hoseok were battling the words I just heard.

“What?” I shake my head, “What would make you think that? Has the boss, employee overshadowed the friendship? Is that what you think?”

He doesn’t respond, leaving me with his calm breathing as a sign of his distress.

“I don’t think it’s that way at all Hoseok! If you feel that way, I think you should talk to them about it.”

When he still refuses to speak, my heart grows heavier. Does he go around just thinking everyone holds some sort of animosity, does he? The conversation at the gala makes sense, and a light bulb flickers on above my head.

Do you really like me?

“Why are you so keen on having everyone detest you?” My tone comes out a bit rougher than I intended, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed.

“My line of work doesn’t really let me be a people person.”

“But that’s work, isn’t it? There’s a time where you gotta shut the work mindset off...right?”

Another beat of silence, my own breathing sounding louder than Hoseok’s. Another shuffle from his end and a grunt. I’m guessing he was changing his position on the bed.

“Go to sleep, doc. You’ll see me tomorrow.” That’s all he said and the line disconnected. He hung up.

Once again I’m left lying in my bed with my thumping heart and my thoughts. What a ball of secrets Jung Hoseok is. Just what is going on in that head and heart of his?

~!~

“We did the best we could,” I said to Jennie as we walked down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind Dr. Lee who was looking down at his clipboard. Our heels click against the tile floor, as we zoom towards room 323. We were on our way to check on a patient who just woke from a surgery we performed the day before.

We already knew this was going to be a rough one. A terrible car accident has left a couple in a sad state. The wife, an older woman in her early 50’s had damage to her legs, leaving her partially paralyzed. Only temporarily. With proper physical therapy, Ms. Cho will be able to walk again.

As for Mr. Cho, he is stuck in a sleep-like-state. A coma, one could say, however it is believed that he can hear his surroundings. Though we did surgery to stop the internal bleeding, the seriousness of his injuries can’t be known until he awake.

I glanced at my outfit, the yellow dress seeming too bright for the depressing atmosphere we were going to enter. However, the yellow dress was significant to my mood. The happy butterflies floating around my stomach were clouding my focus.

It was a dress Jennie gifted me a few months back, and it sat in my closet collecting dust. The dress stopped right at my knees, it’s shaping being form-fitting with being skin tight. The hem of the skirt ruffled out, giving it a spring vibe. The whole dress was covered in white polka dots, less than you would regularly see for the pattern. The v neck wasn’t deep enough to be inappropriate, and the sort sleeves also had the same ruffle as the skirt hem. My white heels complimented the whole look.

When I strolled into work today, Jennie was sipping her coffee, only to have her eyes widen as she choked.

“Wow,” She breathed, “You look hot!” I cringed, gesturing my hands for her to bring her voice down. She was being too loud. A few nurses turned their eyes, raising their eyebrows.

“Mr. Jung must be returning today,” one of the nurses at the help desk muttered loudly, “I heard he hasn’t been at any board meetings because he traveled.” I turned my head towards the voice to meet a teasing set of eyes.

I stared at her and she shrugged, “Am I wrong?” She giggled looking me up and down. The other nurses giggled along with her.

“It is that obvious?” I whispered to Jennie. She took another sip from her Starbucks cup before she gave me a thorough once over. She takes a look at my outfit, a cheesy smile pulling at her lips while her eyes moved up to my face.

“Oh hell yeah.” She chimes. I grunt, covering my face with both hands.

“He’s going to think I’m such a try-hard.” I groaned then adjusted my white doctor’s coat to try to cover the dress more.

Jennie bites her lip, the red lipstick that painted them not smudging one bit. She brought her coffee cup up to her lips as if to take a sip. She raised her shoulders and turned her body to the side as if she was hiding something from me with her body.

“Y/n, I’d be more worried that you’d make him hard.” She whispers just loud enough for me to hear. My face heats up and a coy expression grazes my face.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” She exclaimed, winking at me.

We stood there waiting for Mr. Lee to arrive. He told us to meet him here at noon, and it’s already 12:23. The longer we stood there talking, the more I noticed glances my way from patients and fellow workers.

“Is the dress inappropriate for work?” My face scrunches up and my insecure questions slip from my lips.

“No, not at all. You’re just giving off different vibes than usual. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look good.”

Before I could reply, Jennie spoke again, “You talked to him on the phone yesterday?”

“Yup,” I said popping the p, “The conversation gets...better. It was very weird at first but it’s smoother now. You can tell he doesn’t usually do that kind of thing.”

Jennie nodded in an approving manner, “That’s sweet.” She smiled and took another long sip of her coffee from tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash can. She turned back around just as Dr. Lee rounded the corner.

“Took him long enough,” Jennie said under her breath. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, giving me a better look of her outfit. She wore a simple black turtleneck, the fabric looking too thin to protect from any cold, and a sage green skirt that was shorter than my dress with black heels. Her red lipstick popped and her slicked-back ponytail with the side part made her look so slick.

Jennie takes more risks with her outfits than I do. She dances right on the line of a provocative and voguish. No wonder this amazing dress I’m wearing is something she bought me. My hair was down today, Jennie telling me that pulled the outfit together more.

“Sorry for being late ladies. I-” Dr. Lee’s voice catches in his throat as he looked up from his clipboard. He gawked at me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and racking his eyes down my body. He snaps out of his trance not a second later, looking back to my face and shamelessly smiling at me.

“Dr. L/n, you are...breath-taking.” He said honestly.

I roll my eyes, “Thank you, Dr. Lee.”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

I falsely give it some thought, “Mh, sure! I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Jung along.”

His smile drops at the mention of Hoseok, but the flirty nature in his eyes doesn’t change.

“Well, I’ll always be here.” He said with a wink, looking down at his clipboard again.

“And that’s unfortunate.” Jennie jeered back.

And that’s how we ended up where we are now, marching down the hallway to deliver not so good news to an older lady. By the time we reached the door of room 323, yelling could be heard. A thin and harsh voice was shouting while the calm voice of a nurse battled on.

Dr. Lee opened the door and all the noise stopped.

“Ms. Cho.” Dr. Lee said as he stepped in and we followed.

“Where is my husband?!” She shouts.

Dr. Lee sighs, “Please Ms. Cho, give us some time to help you understand what is going on.”

After she yells on for a few more minutes, Dr. Lee manages to calm her down. Her chest rises and falls intensely as lays back in her hospital bed. Her brows were furrowed and she glowered at us. Her gaze shifted between the 3 of us. Dr. Lee is going to do most of the talking, and we were just here to give the details of the surgery and the results.

Jennie and I took some time to explain to Ms. Cho the results of her surgery along with the condition of her legs. We had to pause for a moment as she cried. I made sure to give her a tissue and tried my best to comfort her. After we finished updating her on her condition, came the hard news of her husband.

There is no easy way to break news like that. And it’s always hard to see how people handle news like this. One of the nurses rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her black hair falling into her face.

We were in there for quite some time, setting up her physical therapy appointments. Jennie was discussing with Dr. Lee while I spoke to the nurse regarding the changes to Ms. Cho’s care.

“Young lady,” Ms. Cho suddenly says to me, sniffling in the process. I look over at her, showing a small smile.

“I know you have many patients to take care of, and you probably hear this a lot. But...my husband is my everything. Please do whatever you can to save him. Money isn’t an issue.” It’s hard to believe this soft-spoken woman was the same angry voice shouting earlier.

Her bloodshot eyes were tired and sad, but in general, she looked young for her age. Her skin lacked wrinkles or any significant sign of aging.

I smiled at her, “Of course Ms. Cho, we will do our best.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips and I watch her eyes move to my white coat, “Dr. L/n?” She reads my name.

I smile, “Yup, that’s me. Y/n L/n.”

“A lovely name for a lovely girl.” She says softly.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I must say you’re also very beautiful.”

She laughs slightly, having it fade off into a sigh, “My beauty is all I have at this point.”

She throws a gentle punch at her legs, “These things are useless.” She mutters.

“Ms. Cho, you won’t be in a wheelchair forever, we can promise you that,” I assured her.

She looks towards Dr. Lee and back at me, “Is that guy any good? His rehearsed smile and strong cologne are throwing me off.”

I cough to hide my laughter while the nurse closes to me giggles with her hand covering her mouth.

“Dr. Lee is one of the finest doctors I know, he won’t lead you astray. His smile may be a practice, but if there’s one thing that is genuine, it’s his love for helping others.” She nods like my words put her doubts to rest.

“Thank you Dr. L/n, and I apologize for yelling at you earlier. That isn’t like me.” She looks down shyly, clearly embarrassed by her previous behavior.

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Cho, I would have reacted the same way. You just went through a very disorienting series of events. I wouldn’t expect you to be poised.��

She smiles but soon gasps as if forgetting something.

“And the other driver? How is he?”

While I explained the conditions of the other driver, who also had serious injuries, Jennie and Dr. Lee came back from the corner of the room they were standing in.

“Mrs. Cho, you’ll be staying with us here at Seoul Sky Hospital for some time and we’re happy to have you. We will do whatever we can to give you a steady recovery; we will also work to look after your husband.” She nods, showing a strained smile. After a few more words, we start to shuffle out of the room. I am the last to leave, giving her a small smile.

~!~

I’m sitting in the passenger's seat of the car while Jennie sits in the back with her arms stretched up across the seat. Her back leans against the door while her eyes are closed. Jungkook is driving yelling at Jin who is on speakerphone.

“Boss agreed to buy dinner, and you wanna eat chicken...again? Let’s get noodles!” Jungkook whines. I giggled as he pouts.

“Yah! He said we could order whatever! I’ll order chicken and you order noodles!”

“Why do we have to order from too different places?” Jungkook replies.

“Just figure something out!” Someone barks in the background. It sounds like Yoongi. I can just picture Hoseok sitting among the chaos.

I laughed at their banter, but it came out a bit chopped. My nerves were getting to me. I was quiet most of the ride, but just like everyone said, be bold. Do whatever feels right. What’s the worst that could happen? He could reject me? Embarrass me in front of all the guys, and make the atmosphere?

Yikes! I just cringed at the thought.

I shut the car door and followed behind Jungkook and Jennie as he did the regular door unlocking as well as the double doors. Everyone was in the “lobby” area. Jimin and Taehyung stood around Yoongi who sat at the circular table. They were clearly annoyed him, as he sat there with a blank face as they poked at him.

Jin sat a few sat away from Yoongi and had a smaller MacBook opened.

Namjoon stood in front of the chalkboard, writing and a few things, and beside him was Hoseok. My heart hammered a bit. I could see most of his back, and a bit of his side profile. He on the circular table, some papers in his hands. He was looking between the papers in his hand and the words that Namjoon was writing.

He wore an oversized red t-shirt, and grey joggers with black sneakers. He wore one of those fancy Rolex watches on his risk and his hair was a bit messy.

There’s that same old focused face of his.

Jungkook left my side, heading towards Jin who I guess was ordering food. Jennie gave me a knowing smile and nodded towards Hoseok. I walked further into the room, feeling self-conscious as I caught the guys' attention. I no longer had my white doctor’s coat to hide in.

One of the guys' whistle and I ducked my head down shyly. Namjoon turns around at the sound but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care.

“Hi everyone,” I said shyly as I got closer.

Everyone says their hellos, well everyone but Hoseok. Namjoon smiled at me, his gaze flickering to Hoseok quickly. Namjoon turned back to the blackboard and continued with what he was writing.

Jennie also went about greeting everyone, saying her hellos before taking a seat at the table. She leans back and grins while crossing her arms. I act oblivious to the fact that everyone was secretly waiting for me to approach Hoseok. I walk around the table, ending up on his right side.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Hey,” Hoseok replies pausing for a beat before looking at me. I don’t miss the way his eyelashes flutter and his eyes flickered down my body quickly.

“How was your flight?” I asked just as his eyes met mine again. His eyes were narrowed

“It was good.” Since he was seated on the table, his line of sight was my face, making us the same height at that moment. He refocuses on what Namjoon is writing.

There’s that warmth I always feel when he’s around. His presence is so...comforting.

I stare at his profile for a second more and just...do what feels right.

I take hold of his bicep while leaning forward and I did the same thing I did at the gala. I kissed him on the cheek. I pulled back, my face still close. He looks at me, eyes wide. I smile in response, almost wanting to laugh at the deer in the headlights expression that was on his face.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I spoke softly. His eyes, no longer wide, scanned over my face. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me...wantingly? My eyes widen in response. Whoa. I drew back completely, taking my hand off his bicep and noticing just how the atmosphere in the room changed.

I faced the board, flustered by Hoseok’s gaze on me.

“S-so what are you writing, Namjoon?” I asked quickly and my heart fluttered, wondering if Hoseok’s eyes were still on me. And they were. I could feel his eyes on the profile of my face. I drew in a deep breath, trying to seem interested in what Namjoon was telling me.

Something about someone going around Korea saying they are ‘Seok’ the mafia head and creating trouble. Someone is basically pretending to be Hoseok.

I nodded understandingly.

“Boss is looking hungry,” Taehyung sang playfully as he walked around the table.

Jennie snickers and to no one, in particular, says, “But not for food.”

I turn to look at Hoseok just in time to see his gaze move from me to the paper in his hand. He scoffs, in a light manner this time, and a small smile stays on his lips as he goes back to reading the document. Chuckles sound through the room at Jennie’s remark. Hoseok doesn’t say anything, focusing on the work at hand.

But the red color of his ears said it all.

“Cute.” I cooed to myself, and Hoseok heard, his red ears getting even brighter.

Hoseok, I’m gonna break those walls down Brick by brick.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Thank you for reading! Like, reblog and let me know what you think :)) I also have a question for you, how do you view “Y/n” in terms of personality and character? Also any predictions?

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wafflesetc · 4 years

Text

I’ll be there for you, Chapter 6 (previously)

A/N: This one is long. So buckle up! I owe a kidney to @kkruml who has looked at about 6 different versions of this. And to @walkinginland and @happytoobserve who also read multiple versions, held my hand through some tough parts, and gave encouragement along the way. I couldn’t do it without you guys. And you know, the end of this chapter is a little NSFW. I mean, most people are working from home now.. But you’ve been warned.

The One With The First Fight (Part 2)

Jamie 2:30 AM

He looked down at the screen of his phone.

‘Just tell me you are safe.’

He had said things he hadn’t meant. He had said things that were sore. He had said words that he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He thought back to growing up and having fights with Jenny. His Mam used to tell them to take back the words they had spoken to one another, that they were brother and sister, by tomorrow all would be forgotten because- that’s what family does.

He closed his eyes and took a sip of whisky. The bar was still somewhat alive, even for a Tuesday night. He could picture her right there almost as if she were standing right next to him: The bright red hair he had inherited from her, her soft grey eyes and that strong brow his sister had. He could see it: her hands on her hips, the small raise of her brow and a glare in her eyes that scared him deep into the marrow of his bones from the time he was a small lad.

“Ye are not here to help me with this one, mam.” He whispered to himself.

He knew better than to storm out in a rage, yet this was uncharted territory. He and Claire had moved so fast there had barely been time to realize that they had yet to set some boundaries in regards to their relationship. And Claire- the stubborn, fierce, strong woman that she was, was carrying newfound cargo- a life that was half of him, half of her. It was a surreal and sobering thought, the idea of bringing a new life into this world. Someone he’d have to love unconditionally, someone who’d need him for the rest of his. And by some miracle, it was also not just this small life, but Claire that was in it with him. She was no doubt his forever, surely he did have a small say in some matters.

He took another drink of his whisky, emptying the contents. He raised the glass signaling the bartender for another round.

Just this one more and then he’d go home.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear, “Fancy seeing you out.”

He turned to find Mary smiling at him. He saw the glimmer of a ring on her finger. A small sense of relief flooded through him. It wasn’t that he’d dodged a bullet, but in some ways he was thankful for Mary for letting him go- for she was the reason his daft mind finally made all the pieces click- that he’d been in love with Claire from the beginning. He was thankful she’d seemed to find the same happiness he had found.

“Looks like congratulations is in order.”

“Ah yes,” She took the seat next to him. “It was rather quick but I guess when you know, you know.”

The bartender arrived asking what she wanted. “A whisky, neat please.” She hung her purse on the edge of her barstool and smiled, “How are things with you?”

“Och,” He let out in a small Scottish grunt. “I am sitting alone in a bar in the middle of the night, how do ye think it’s going?”

“I know you, Jamie…” The server placed her drink in front of her and Mary reached for it, taking the first swig. He looked at her with pleading eyes, a sense of helplessness running through him.

“You’re a good man- a loyal one no less. I also ran into John at the store a few weeks back, he said you and Claire were finally together.”

“We are.” He smiled ruefully and took a sip of his own drink. “Happened rather quickly, but we are… And uh, we’re actually expecting too.” Jamie felt the tips of his ears burning.

“Seems like you sure move fast then too!” Mary grabbed her tumbler and tipped towards him, “Cheers then.”

“Uh…Cheers.” He attempted to seem like he was in good spirits, but he could tell Mary knew it was just a facade.

“Still, you’re not a man who tends to sit at a bar, alone, in the middle of the week.”

“And ye are no’ a woman to be here in the middle of the night like this either.”

She laughed at that and nodded, “You’re right. My fiance’s flight is delayed because of a mechanical problem… If I had gone home I would fall asleep. Figured I would catch a dram before I get him.” She took a swig of her own beverage. “But you, look like you need to talk.”

“It’s a long story…” He tried to stop there but she raised a brow at him and ordered another round of drinks.

And it came pouring out him-all of it. He hadn’t known he needed to talk about- least of all his ex girlfriend- but apparently he did. He told her about Claire- how she grew up, how she became a doctor, how he had moved in with her, how they had happened. She listened and listened, and finally once he was done speaking shook his head at her in sheer exasperation.

“Ye are a smart man, Jamie Fraser, but ye sure are a daft one sometimes.” He saw her laugh at him.

“I need ye to explain that one, lass.”

Her breath shook as her phone buzzed on the counter. “You are right- she needs to be more careful and she needs to listen to your concerns… But Jamie, she also is right. She’s a doctor and a good one from what I hear. She won’t do anything that would harm her or your child intentionally, but it’s her body. Only Claire can be the one to know when enough is enough.”

Mary stood and pushed her barstool in. “Neither one of you wants to concede to the other and I’m not saying there’s a winner in this fight, but Jamie… Giving her space and allowing her to be in control seems to be a big piece of who she is. This is all as new to her as it is to you, except she’s the one who’s growing the human.”

“So what is it ye are telling me to do?”

“Weel, I am telling you, that you need to tell her how you feel- but you need to be okay with whatever her decision is. It’s teamwork and compromise. You’ll find your balance, you both will.”

And with a smile she hugged him and was on her way. He felt a sense of peace rush through him, in some ways he thought it was almost relief. He would forever owe Mary for making him realize what he had with Claire. Mary had been good and kind to him, nurturing his soul in ways that he wasn’t sure he would ever fully understand. Yet, through the ups and the downs there had always been the one constant piece in all of it.

Claire. Sorcha.

He threw the cash on the bar top and shook his head knowing exactly where he was headed.

Ye wee daft man, ye must go and repent yer words while you still can.

Claire 4:45 AM

I heard the deadbolt.

He turned it slowly and opened the door. I knew he would know I was waiting for him. He always had a keen sense of things like that.

“And just where do you think you’ve been?” I finally asked once the door was closed.

I watched as he tossed his keys onto the table and shrugged his shoulders, “Out.”

“That doesn’t answer my question…” I sat up on the couch and wrapped the plaid blanket tighter around me.

“Sassenach… It’s late. Ye havena had a good night’s sleep in at least two days and I am exhausted. Go sleep in our bed. We can talk when yer rested.”

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. Just earlier he had reprimanded me for coming home and wanting to sleep and not talk- now I was the one who wanted to talk and he was telling me to go to sleep.

Circles, we were running around each other in circles.

It was infuriating me.

We’d talk, now, whether he liked it or not.

“James.” I rose from the couch and crossed my arms. I seldom used his full name like that.“You were out all night after getting mad at me when I said I didn’t walk to talk. I think I am owed the decency of knowing where you were!”

I could feel frustration oozing out of me.

I had worked nearly three days in a row. There had been accident after accident, trauma after trauma. I had nearly doubled my surgeries from my last three rotations earlier that week with this weekend stint at the hospital.

I barely had time to enjoy a cup of coffee, let alone a minute to tell Jamie what was going on. I hadn’t come home to eat, sleep, shower, or give him the knowledge of what was happening.

“Claire,” He breathed. I could hear a small sense of anger rising in the pronunciation of my name. “I went to clear my head, I stopped at the place down from here, the one that is open late.”

He took a step closer towards me and came into the dim light. He was still in his office clothes from the day before- he wore a solid white button down with khaki pants, but now he looked tired and worn down. Though the small light from the lamp on the end table didn’t illuminate the entire room, it was bright enough for me to still see a small piece of red lipstick on the outside of his collar.

I kept my arms folded, standing my ground. The anger and exhaustion was catching up to me. Tears were near the surface.

“Och!” He threw his arms up in frustration when he read the look on my face. “Ye really want to do this, then?”

I pursed my lips and nodded.

“Like I said,” He hissed through his teeth, “I was at the place down the street, I have receipts if ye must see them!”

“That’s not what I want to talk about and you know it!” My voice was louder than usual but cracked at the end. It was taking everything in me to remain even the slightest bit composed.

He fisted his hands and took a step closer to me. We were now just a foot apart. I could smell the whisky coming from him.

“What is it, then?”

I scanned his eyes and saw he was completely helpless- he really had no clue.

“There’s lipstick- on your collar.” I could feel the tears rising to the surface. It was a mix of exhaustion and hormones, that I was sure of.

“Sassenach…” He whispered my name, I could hear the plea behind it, “Ye dinna think, that I…. Ye mustn’t?”

I shook my head and sat down on the edge of the sofa, “No….NO.” I put my face into my hands. “I know you didn’t…”

“Let me explain.” He took a seat next to me but kept some distance away, but placed a hand on my knee.

“I was sore, said things to ye before that I dinna mean.” I turned my head and looked at him. His face was earnest and I saw a small hint of a smile. “I went there to clear my head, hoping ye’d get tired enough and just crash… But I see no’ telling ye where I was was no’ wisest choice.”

That earned him a laugh as I shook my head, “No, you bloody Scot. You kept me up worrying!”

“Aye, I see that.” He scanned my face and scooted a little closer. “I was finishing up when Mary walked in.”

That sent a flash of anger through me and caused me to stiffen in resposne.

“Let me finish.” His voice was shaky but I could hear the determination in it. He closed the distance between us- our knees were touching, my hands in his. “She’s engaged now… And she was waiting to pick up her fiance from the airport. We just talked. I told her all about you.”

It still wasn’t enough to make me feel better.

“I told her about the wee lass.” He reached and put a hand on the small swell of my lower abdomen. “And she helped put things into perspective for me.”

“And just how did she do that?” I was jealous. I had never disliked Mary- she was a kind, smart, well rounded woman. Her helping my Jamie in a way struck a chord in me that I didn’t know I had.

“She gave me warmth, when I was questioning all of my choices.” He took a deep breath and tilted my face to his so we were eye to eye. “She gave me understanding and a sense of enlightenment when I needed it most.”

Daft man. I laughed out loud and could feel my own fists clenching.

“That’s what I am supposed to be, for you! You bloody Scot” My voice was louder than usual and cracking.! I took a breath and shrugged my shoulders, “At least, I think that’s the way this is supposed to go!”

I laughed again and steadied my voice. “This is our life we’re working through. Our relationship, our child, our future! I know we went from zero to one hundred rather quickly.. But you need to talk to me and no one else!”

He laughed at me and I let a tear fall. “Ye are just as daft as I, mo nighaen donn.”

He wiped the tear with his thumb. “Ye are for me what I am for you, but this..” He rubbed my stomach, “Has turned our world upside down rather quickly and we dinna ken what we are doing, together. We ken what we would do when we were alone and no’ together, but it’s no’ like that anymore.”

Slowly, I was starting to realize what he meant.

We had both been overworked, over tired, and stretched thin. He hadn’t been understanding of the requirements of my job and I hadn’t been receptive of his issues, especially since I was carrying our child. Instead, I had walled myself in and closed myself off. I had thought only of myself through all of this, with little regard to Jamie’s concerns at all.

This was new to me- new to him. We were in uncharted waters and if it was scary for me then I knew it must be for him, as well. But at the end of all of this, I knew there was no one I’d rather navigate treacherous waters with, than him.

“I have you, and we have her.” He kissed my forehead. “We dove into this head first and havena stopped since. We need to set some boundaries- and I must be more understanding of the circumstances of yer job.”

“And I need to clue you in a bit more…” I turned my face to his, nuzzling our noses. “And be more cautious of the cargo I am carrying.”

“Aye.” He breathed.

He kissed me, soft and slow. His tongue traced my bottom lip and I reached for his neck, pulling him on top of me.

Swiftly, his hands were on the waistband of my scrubs. In one fluid motion he had them off and strewn somewhere in the room. It was a flurry of events: my hands were in his hair and then I was scrambling to lift his shirt over his head. I could feel the sense of urgency pulsating through him. The need for reassurance, the closeness we were both seeking. Our lovemaking was always a risk- exposing our most vulnerable parts to each other, yet my soul was safe in his hands. I always knew that.

His mouth was hot and heavy on my neck as I fumbled with the button on his khakis, “I want ye Claire. I want ye so bad I can scarcely breathe. Will ye have me?”

I laughed into his next kiss, surprised he was asking, but finding it oddly romantic, “Yes… Yes I’ll have you.”

It wasn’t like I was going to say no, bloody Scot.

He trailed kisses up my chest as his hands found their way to my scrub top. Slowly he pulled it over my head and tossed it into the abyss. I laid my back down onto the couch as I watched him discard his shirt. His muscles tensed and even in the dimness of the room, the moon illuminated his every definition.

By some miracle he was mine.

His shirt fell just between the coffee table and couch. My eyes followed the curve of his abs as his hands hastily pulled my undergarments down my legs.

“Mo Chridhe,” he whispered, “Mo nighean donn.”

His hand worked quickly to rid himself of his clothes as I took in his full form. He wanted me, he wanted me badly.

Jamie lowered himself onto me trailing kisses from the small swell on my stomach until he reached my mouth. He fisted his hands into my hair while reaching for my hips so he could align my body just right.

He stopped for a moment, his fingertips pulsing against my skin, but his eyes locked on mine. His face scanned mine looking for something. What- I didn’t know nor did I care.

All I wanted was him. Body and soul.

I was quite literally bare and naked before him- nothing to protect me. Yet while I was in my most vulnerable state, Jamie saw right through me, as he always did.

Whatever he was searching for he found the answer. He situated himself between my legs and guided himself into me. We were as close as we could be, yet it didn’t seem like it was enough. It never was.

His movements were slow and methodical. He was taking the time to make sure I knew he was mine just as I was his.

As his pace started to gradually pick up, I could feel the wave building and building. Our eyes met and I saw a small smile form on his lips. We rode it together knowing whatever murky waters we might face in the future, so long as we were together, that was all that mattered.

#Outlander #Outlander Fanfic #Jamie x Claire #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #I'll be there for you AU #IBTFY II #YEAH IMMA DROP THIS AND THEN JUST LEAVE #craigh na queue

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wissbby · 4 years

Text

"The hospital is a magical place.” - Akaashi Keiji

A couple of weeks ago I wasn’t doing great. I felt disconnected from my body and was mentally exhausted which brought me to one of my lowest points in life. The love of my life, also known as @dreamykou, wrote me a lovely motivational description which brought me back to my senses. Since writing is almost always my way out, I decided to turn her words into this little fiction. Thank you, my love, for giving me the strength to pull through. I’ll literally never forget that message. I didn’t proof read it so I’m sorry if there are mistakes in here!

Date: the fifth of July, 2020 Warnings: fluff Word count: 2.4K

“Hi, Yuna.” Akaashi felt the white walls coming towards him, swallowing him whole. Even after coming here frequently, he never got used to the strong smell of chemicals. In a place like this, hygiene was the number one priority. Yet, he couldn’t get used to the smell.

“Oh,” Yuna smiled when she saw the person who the voice belonged to. “Hello there, Akaashi.” She immediately noticed the way he switched from breathing through his nose to breathing from his mouth. The fact her colleague’s spouse hated the smell of the hospital was known by the whole division.

“Is Y/n here?” The question was directed at Yuna, but Akaashi’s eyes were looking into the different corridors in the hope of seeing your angelic face again.

He had brought you flowers.

The previous night wasn’t as great as Akaashi hoped. You had told him about this surgery months ago. It was a dangerous one and there was a slim chance of the boy getting out of the operation room alive.

He knew you had your heart in the right place. That’s why you were sulking all night about the little boy. You couldn’t sleep and Akaashi grew worried.

“You need sleep to function tomorrow, love.” You were sitting at the kitchen table, a book in front of you with a half-filled mug with coffee beside it.

“I know, I just can’t fall asleep. I could read about techniques to use tomo-“ Before you could read on about the different doctors who had performed the same surgery, a hand grabbed your wrist.

“No,” Akaashi had whispered out, stern but caring.

“Akaashi, do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be tomorrow? The chance of the kid dying in front of my eyes is bigger than him walking out alive.” Most of the time, you and Akaashi were on the same page about different topics. Akaashi was one of the few people with great understanding and patience. However, this was different. For the first time in years, there was understanding but no support for your choices.

“I know, love. That doesn’t change the fact you need sleep to function.” Somehow he finally managed to get your body into bed, at the very least. Nevertheless, you could not sink into the soft mattress, the stress and fear stuck to you.

With a sigh, Akaashi sat up and pulled you into his arms. You leaned against him, eyes drooped and covered by a thin layer of glossy tears.

"I'm scared, Akaashi," you confessed. Years into the relationship, it was still as surprising as ever if you would show your emotions to him. He always knew you could never easily show your emotions, let alone your weaknesses.

“I know you are.”

“What if I let him die? I don’t want him to die. He is young and has a whole life in front of him. I don’t want to be the one taking that away from him.” The words hit the man hard. He never expected you to blame yourself for something that would happen beyond your power.

“You’ll never be the one taking his life away. You’re there to help the kid. And yes, the chances are slim. However, that doesn’t change the fact you’re not and will never be the one who killed him if he actually does die. In fact, you’ll help him, even if he dies. You gave him and his family hope, a second chance of living if it all works out.”

Akaashi wanted to promise you that it was going to be just fine.

But he couldn’t. Because he couldn’t promise everything would be “just fine”.

If Akaashi promised you something, he would always fulfill his promise.

“Are those beautiful flowers for your beloved Y/n?” a light chuckle flew into the air.

“Ah,” Akaashi laughed, hand automatically crawling to the back of his neck to scratch it. “She just had a rough night, that’s all. I wanted to give her these flowers to tell her she has done something amazing, no matter the outcome.”

“That’s adorable. You guys literally make me want to get my own spouse and gag at the same time.”

“I guess you want to know where she is? Room 143, she was done but told me she went and stayed for a bit longer.” Yuna knew what the outcome of the surgery was and she couldn’t suppress the smirk that crawled up her face.

However, Akaashi being Akaashi, didn’t question it any further.

So, with the bouquet of flowers in his hand and sweat collectively coming together in the palm of his hands, he wandered through the empty, white corridors.

⇜ “How do you like the smell of a hospital?” Akaashi’s eyebrows were knitted together, a questionable look taking over his features.

“I don’t know, I just do.” You chuckled lightly, swinging your arms back and forth, tilting your head slightly back to bask into the fresh ray of sunshine.

“The fact that isn’t even the weirdest thing about you scares me.”

“Oh, what is the weirdest thing about me, Keiji?” At the beginning of your relationship, Akaashi was very private. He kept a lot to himself and didn't share much. Later, he began to see that a relationship had to come from two sides. Not long after, you got to see all sides of your spouse.

“You told me you got a calm feeling every time you walk through the hospital. It freaks me out.” You would lie if you said you weren’t surprised by hearing him recall that. It had been a while back since you’d stated that. It only showed how much your love actually paid attention.

“What’s so scary about that?”

“I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe because hospitals are filled with death, blood and fatality.” In Akaashi's eyes, his statement seemed self-evident. Every day dozens of people died in the building and the white walls became terrifying as the night approached and no one walked through the corridors except for some of the staff.

“That indeed is true. However, hospitals are also filled with hope, life, love, laughter and stories. A hospital is a magical place, you just need to see it.” ⇝

“One thirty-nine, one forty, one forty-one, one forty-two.. one forty-three!” Akaashi whispered as his eyes passed the tiny signs with the numbers carved in them.

As he got closer to the small room, he noticed the door was left open just enough to fit half a body.

Room 143. Akaashi knew exactly whose room it was.

He was ready to prepare himself mentally for one of your breakdowns. He knew how much you cared for the little boy that you got assigned and was not ready to lose in the OR.

To confirm his expectation, he peeked into the room, heart siphoning an immense amount of blood through his veins.

When he didn’t see the scene that he had created in his head in front of him, he let out a breathe he didn’t know he was holding onto.

You were kneeled beside the hospital bed with the little kid laying underneath layers and layers of blankets. The boy’s nostrils flared, eyebrows high and rounded, eyes shot and a mouth wide open while a fit of laughter slipped right out.

Akaashi didn’t miss the way a warm smile crept up your lips and how the mother of the child held onto the father a little tighter while tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes.

And that’s when Akaashi realised what you meant. Hospitals could indeed be a magical place.

His eyes noticed your hand disappearing into the pocket of your white doctor’s coat. Your thumb and index finger had captured a white stick to present it to the little boy who had opened his eyes in the meantime.

“You’re actually not supposed to eat sweets,” you snickered. “But because you are my favourite, I’ll let it slide this one time!” With a playful smile painting your lips, you handed the red lollipop to your patient.

The boy had twinkling eyes and a tongue sweeping across his lips. He gratefully wrapped his tiny hand around the white stick.

It was late and time to end your twenty-eight-hour shift. You replaced the playful smile with a gentle and heart-warming one.

“Akaashi-sensei!” Once the kid noticed you were about to leave, he couldn’t help but crave one more thing. “Thank you.”

It was something simple, something everyone would expect to hear after helping another.

But this was different.

You had met him for the first time eight months ago. He was hard to get to talk because of his shyness. So, to say the least, a “thank you” coming from his mouth and not his parents’ was surprising.

Your smile grew bigger to the point it started to hurt. Ruffling his soft, brown locks was the very first time he didn’t shy away from your touch.

“You did great, Izumi-kun,” you complimented him. “Now, get some rest and save your lollipop for tomorrow. But don’t show my colleagues; you don’t want me to get in trouble, right?” Izumi shook his head violently after processing the last sentence. Chuckling, you turned to the parents that bowed forty-five degrees.

“Thank you so much for your help. We will forever be grateful for your work.”

You never liked the way people looked up to you for doing something that was simply your job.

Bowing just as respectfully, you spoke up, “It was no problem. I’m just as happy the operation went well as you are.” Making eye contact with two pair of eyes that stared right back at you with multiple emotions held inside of them, you felt yourself getting warm.

“I’ll be back in two days. The nurses will check up on him and make sure everything is going as planned during the time that I’m gone. If there’s anything I can do for you or Izumi-kun, I’m always there to answer your questions.”

Just as you were about to leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist. The source tried to pull you into its direction but there was no intensity to get you where he wanted.

With raised brows and wide eyes, you felt how two arms were wrapped around you securely. Looking down, you saw Izumi’s arms, that were full of needles that fed him the insulins he needed, wrapped around your waist.

The warmth of the boy swallowed you whole. And for the first time since twenty-eight hours, you felt a wave of relief washing over you.

A thin layer of salty tears stung your eyes as you returned the warmth.

It took the both of you a little bit to let go of one another.

“Have a good night, Izumi-kun.” With those words and a heart-warming smile plastered on your face, you left the room, eyes fixated on the white shoes that belonged to the hospital.

You stopped dead in your tracks after walking a bit further away from room 143. Everything sunk in deep and you finally had a moment to let your mind race and take its time to bring itself to ease by progressing everything that happened from the restless night to the moment you gave Izumi a lollipop.

Pushing your body against the white wall behind you and sliding down against it, gave you the peace you craved.

Quiet moments like these always hit the hardest. And it wasn’t much different today.

The tears started flowing over the edge of your bottom eyelid, all the stress, frustration and relief washing away with the salty droplets. The walls, the walls that hold you up, that make you strong in front of your patients collapsed right then and there. Second by second, you see them falling, the bricks smashing against the ground and dividing into millions of pieces right in front of you.

Salty drops travel along your cheeks, falling from your chin and entering the fabric of your white doctor’s coat. It was then that you realised there was an iota of blood on it. The bloodstain got watered down by the tears and expanded in its size, the dark red colour turning into a lighter shade.

“My love,” you heard your lover’s voice call out. Rubbing the salty fluid out of your eyes, you looked up to see if you weren’t hallucinating things due to being sleep deprived.

But you weren’t hallucinating, Akaashi really stood there.

You quickly stood up, bewildered by his sudden appearance.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes started watering again after seeing his eyes filled with warmth, worry and relief.

Akaashi took a few steps forward, handing you the bouquet he had bought you.

“They are Gladioli. In Rome, gladioli were associated with gladiators. Some say that gladiators wore gladiolus corms around their necks during battles to help them win and protect them from death. Because of their association with gladiators, the gladiolus flower meaning is strength and integrity,” Akaashi rambled, nothing more than anxiety and love being projected into his irises.

He loved you so much, it hurt.

“You’ve been so strong and I’m so proud of you. You’re always there for everyone and ready to help. That’s one of the million reasons I love you.” Akaashi saw your emphasised pockets, plaintive, painful eyebrows, relaxed jaw, eyes that could barely stay open and a slightly drooped head. Despite your tired expression, he could feel the love radiating from you.

“Keiji,” you whispered out, tears now uncontrollably streaming down your face. You buried your face in the bouquet, shoulders shaking and sobs decorating the silence in the white corridors.

In next to no time, you felt two strong arms wrapping themselves around your waist. Akaashi’s heart shattered into pieces when he felt your body giving up on you, the exhaustion finally catching up on you.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Even though it was said like a question, it was nothing more than a warning demand, a reminder to show you he cared.

“Yes, yes please.”

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blazehedgehog · 3 years

Link

So rather than attach it to the last (rather large) post thread, I’ll start a new one. If you didn’t catch it on Twitter, friends managed to raise some money through nothing but sheer good will and I ended up booking a stay at the same hotel we should have gotten for free.

I’m starting a new thread because I want to ask a question, but first I want to clarify and provide a better timeline of everything that’s happened. This isn’t exact, but it’s as close as my memory can remember right now:

Late 2019/Early 2020: Whoever owns my apartment complex sells it to a new company in California. The complex is in Nevada. It’s a big apartment complex; it used to be two separate ones that were right next to each other and they merged to create a “project” that houses something like 150-200 units. If you consider families, somewhere in the realm of 300-700 people live here.

April/May 2020: We get a notice on our door announcing that our new owners want to renovate the complex. Every single unit. It’s such a big ordeal that they have to put in to get funding from the State of Nevada to do it. The initial claim is that they will move us out of our apartment unit in to a new unit for up to a month or two (at no cost to us) while they renovate. More information will come in summer 2020 during a town hall meeting we will attend in person. I expect that with the pandemic starting and “shelter in place” orders going out that there’s no way they’d be dumb enough to go through with any of this. The notice ends with them pleading with people not to take this as a cue to move out. In the months to follow, we spied at least four people who were smart enough to get out before the renovation hit. We considered it, but the housing authority we have to rent through went dead silent the moment the pandemic ramped up and have yet to say even a single word to us (even now).

Late October/Early November 2020: The town hall meeting finally happens, online, in a Zoom meeting. Three people in California dictate to the 40 or 50 tenants (maybe more) that attend the meeting how this is going to go. Plans have changed: the renovation will take place across ten days. Very tight schedule. In and out as fast as possible. In batches of 4-5 units at a time, going alphabetically across the complex, units will be renovated. New paint, new carpet, new cabinets, new sinks, new toilet, new shower, new appliances, redone balcony. Renovation teams will come in at 8am and work until 5pm. After 5pm, we will be allowed to return to our unit and sleep there. We will be allowed to keep one bed (per person) and one TV, which the renovation team will move out of the way during the day and return to our unit when they leave. We are also told we will be getting a sealable plastic tub to store personal items (toiletries and such) that the renovation team will also handle. We are assured they will be adhering to rigorous sanitization standards, with multiple temperature checks daily, masks, and gloves. During the day, we are free to go wherever, but the complex will be setting up what they call a “hospitality trailer” -- a communal space for everyone currently effected by the renovation to hang out inside, together. There will be port-a-potties and wifi. We’re told meals will also be provided, possibly in the trailer, but details are unspecific. We’re also told some landscaping will be done. All told, between renovating units and landscaping, they say the whole process from beginning to end will take 18 months or more. Tenants in the Zoom call ask questions -- if we don’t want to stay at the hospitality trailer, we’re told we should consider staying with family during the day. They ignore multiple questions from people asking if this will cause the rent to go up.

December 2020: Renovation begins, starting with apartments in the A block. We’re somewhere near the middle of the alphabet, and going by the ten-days-per-unit estimate, we’re expecting the renovation to hit us around March-ish, maybe even as late as April. I develop an ugly toothache; my face swells up. I do a phone visit with a dentist and he prescribes me antibiotics and schedules me for an appointment on January 18th to pull the tooth.

Early January 2021: Going to check the mail one day, I notice it feels like they’re spending a long time on the first few sets of units. Then, all of a sudden, renovations surge ahead, and units worryingly close to our letter start putting tarps up over their balconies, signalling they’re either mid-reno, or at least packing.

January 18th, 2021: Tooth is “fine” (big cavity, no pain) but we discuss options for pulling multiple bad teeth with this problem tooth, since a lot of my upper teeth aren’t in great shape. Will require multiple rounds of surgery to remove them all and set up replacements. First round of surgery is on February 24th. I immediately wonder if we’re going to get called early for renovation and it’ll land simultaneously with the surgery. I try not to think about it.

January 30th, 2021: We receive a notice that our apartment’s number is due. It’s post-dated, which means the notice is late. We’re supposed to have 45 days notice, and the move-out date listed in the notice is February 23rd. By the 45 day rule, this notice should’ve arrived January 9th. There’s also a degree of confusion: the notice was delivered to our apartment, but the notice is addressed to the apartment below us. Parts of the notice still mention our apartment number. We call the front office for clarification, and they tell us that the notice was indeed meant for the people below us. According to them, we’re in the clear for now. “You’re close...” tells us the person on the phone, “But it’s not your time yet.” We consider preparing early, but it sounds like we have to use the provided packing materials for organizational reasons when the movers come.

February 5th: I record my Patreon Podcast. I mention the renovation. If you consider 10 days per renovation, based on when the notice was actually delivered, I’m expecting we’re going to get our notice in the next few days.

February 8th: We get a knock on the door. A man from the front office is checking in with us to see how packing is going. Packing because the notice was actually for us. It was for all four units in this block. We tell him: we called. They said it wasn’t our time yet. He just kind of shrugs and asks if we need boxes. Of course we do. Our 45 day notice has been cut down to less than 14 days. On top of that, we’ve got doctors appointments and things coming up that’s going to eat in to this time. He says everything has to be in the office-provided UHaul boxes. Even if we have items already in cardboard boxes, they have to be specifically repacked in UHaul boxes.

February 13th: After days of trying to contact my dentist office via email, I finally get a hold of them via text. I try to reschedule my appointment, but the receptionist tells me it’s just another consultation, not surgery. I hope she’s right. The stress of all of this is making it hard to get packing as fast as we need to.

February 15th: My Mom tells me she’s managed to book an appointment for her first round of covid-19 vaccinations. Unfortunately, it’s on February 23rd, the day we’re being moved out.

February 16th: We talk to the people below us, an elderly couple. They’re panicking about packing because they have so much stuff. They mention that the front office booked them a hotel for the duration of their renovation. All they needed was a doctor’s note proving they needed it. Given that my 75 year old mother has a doc appointment literally the next day, this seems like extremely good timing. After doing curbside pickup for a grocery order that day, we pass the movers on our way back in as they are loading a unit in to their Ryder truck. None of them that I see are wearing masks or gloves.

February 17th: Doc visit happens, she implies that he kind of blew her off. She’s had chronic pain in her hands and knees for years, and in particular, the pain in her hands has been getting bad, fast. She wraps her thumb in sports tape because bending it hurts. She used to be a waitress, she used to be a cake decorator, she did data entry for a couple years, and now she’s dabbling with painting. Her carpal tunnel is severe and its accentuated with arthritis. Doctor just kind of shrugs it off, tells her if it gets worse to come back in a few months, even though arthritis can kill people if not treated properly. Still, he writes her a cursory note for the apartment front office. She talks to them and they’re very glad she contacted them about this; it sounds like the kind of thing that’s only available to people who ask, since presumably the owners don’t want to shell out $900,000+ rooming the entire complex in a hotel. Either way, we’re excited; maybe this renovation won’t be so bad. They tell us the name of the hotel and where its located.

February 18th: While doing laundry in anticipation of packing things up for the hotel/renovation, we happen to catch someone in the laundry room who just got back in to her apartment after her reno finished. She tells us a horror story: everything they told us in the Zoom meeting was a lie. They are renovating way more than 4 units at a time, they aren’t going alphabetically anymore, and she theorizes they’re going with a cheaper renovation team because half of her apartment straight up wasn’t done. The new tile was cheap plastic, which was already gouged by the time she got there. No new fridge, no new shower or tub, no new toilet. “Those will be happening this summer,” she tells us. Sinks got replaced, but the new sinks are apparently bigger than the old ones, leaving less counter space (a particular problem in the bathroom). Carpets were new, but already a dirty mess because of the movers. She had to go around and pick up nails stuck in the carpet that were left behind by the renovators. Since they didn’t take the fridge, she got to keep her food in there, which was important for her because she had special dietary food that needed to be refrigerated. The bad news? Some of that food was stolen. She had a broom and a dust pan stolen, too. She mentions how poor communication has been. We mention the hotel, and she lights up. She didn’t stay in her apartment either, they put her up in the hotel, too. So at least there’s that silver lining. Though she regrets it, because they damaged her TV while she was away. She finally helps clarify the food situation for us, too: we’ll be receiving a “food voucher” to pay for our meals, whatever that means.

February 19th: My Mom was supposed to call the front office to confirm we got the hotel, but in all the confusion, she didn’t get around to it. We’ll have to wait the entire weekend to get confirmation. But if the elderly couple below us got a room, and the lady we spoke to at laundry got a room, it sounds like we’re a lock.

February 22nd: The front office checks in on us again, shrugs their shoulders at how behind we are on packing, and offers us more boxes. They only give us large boxes; we need small, medium and especially rolls of packing tape. They mention they’ll have more later once they open the storage unit, but we never get any. Across this entire ordeal, we’ve only gotten a single roll of packing tape. We bought several rolls of our own after being tired of waiting. Front office guy says our fridge is being replaced, but we can still keep food in our old one and we’ll just “come in and change it out.” Whatever that means. Later, after getting off the phone, we learn we were rejected for the hotel. The doctor’s note wasn’t good enough and the head office in California denied our request. My Mom tries to contact her doctor again to get a more detailed note, but he doesn’t return her call. We’re going to be living out of the car for the next ten days. We talk about protesting this; by stopping packing right now and refusing to leave, but eventually decide that would be a bad idea. We don’t want to risk the movers breaking any of our things. A couple friends start spreading around my paypal.me link in the hopes of raising money for us to stay at a hotel. They raise a little over $200, but it’s hard to justify spending that on a hotel.

February 23rd, Morning: By this point, we’re running on empty. No sleep, physically exhausted, stressed out of our minds. Both of us on the verge of tears several times. With everything going on, we’re a little over halfway done packing and there’s no time left. We quickly move from “pack everything” to “pack what’s important so the movers don’t have to touch it.” Whatever we can’t finish, the movers will pack for us. At 7:30am the movers arrive, and they knock on the door at 8am. They are very polite. They are all wearing masks and gloves. We tell them they are nowhere near ready, and they offer to do our unit last. We do the best we can and leave the rest to them. On our way out, we talk to the elderly couple that lives below us, who claim the moving truck won’t be enough to hold everything in their apartment. It’s a big truck and a small apartment. I find that hard to believe. We go park somewhere and doze in the car until my Mom’s vaccination appointment at 10am. More friends, some of them with very large followings, start spreading the paypal.me link around. Momentum begins to build.

February 23rd, Midday: We get to the vaccination place only to realize we forgot some things at the apartment. We quickly jog back across town and plan to ask them if it’s okay if we can go in to the apartment and retrieve it. When we get there, they’re still unloading the couple below us, and I notice they aren’t just taking UHaul boxes, but regular cardboard boxes, too. Given it’s been almost two hours, this might be second truckful, maybe even the third. I grab the stuff we’re missing and we head back to the vaccination park. Afterwards, we hang out at my brother’s just in case my mom has an allergic reaction to the vaccine and she needs help. She’s fine, and by the time we’re through there, it’s getting to be time to head back to our apartment for the night at 5pm. Before we leave my brother’s, I use their wifi to check my Paypal account. I joke, “I’m worried that I’ll open my account and it’ll say $2000.” Combined with the little bit of money I already had in my Paypal, the donations have pushed my account close to $2200. I burst out laughing. “YOU WANNA GO GET A HOTEL?!” I shout. We agree we’ll spend the night in the unit tonight and decide what we’ll take with us to the hotel in the morning.

February 23rd, Evening: It’s close to 6pm and the movers are still there. They were supposed to clock out almost an hour ago. I browse Tripadvisor and Expedia in the parking lot and decide to just book the same hotel they dangled in front of our faces, since reviews specifically point out it’s clean and has extremely good quarantine practices. Expedia lets me pay with Paypal directly, but there’s a problem where it won’t connect to my Paypal account. As I go to transfer the money out of my Paypal and finish booking the hotel, the wifi dies. The movers just unplugged our modem and packed it up. They probably weren’t supposed to do that, and they picked the worst time, too. We spend the next 45 minutes driving around town trying to find free wifi so I can book this hotel. We end up parking at my brother’s place and leeching his wifi from the driveway. Hotel booked, check-in is at 3pm on the 24th. For now, it’s back to the apartment to decide what to take with us.

February 23rd, Night: Upon getting back to the apartment around 7pm, we find it’s... a disaster area. They spent so long unloading all the other units, they did not have time to finish packing and unloading what was left in our unit. There’s garbage everywhere, it’s mixed in with the stuff we want to keep, some of it’s broken, it’s horrible. It looks like they just swept everything off the tables on to the floor. TV remotes and mail are spread out all over the place. They didn’t leave us any lamps, so the only lights in the apartment are the front door light, the kitchen light, and the bathroom light. They might have left us our mattresses, but they didn’t leave us any pillows or blankets. Still, we spent the better part of the night sorting through the “trash” and separating it out in to the stuff we wanted to keep. We pack up most of the apartment with whatever materials the movers left behind, but we eventually run out of boxes and tape. We still managed to pack 99.9% of what was left. From 7pm to 2:30am.

February 24th, Morning: At 7:30am I'm woken up by the movers pulling up. I can hear them joking in the parking lot about who gets the honor of being called "papi" and cracking rude jokes about "assuming gender." They probably think nobody's around to hear them. We ask them for more time so we can wake up and get dressed. As we're loading up the car with stuff to take to the hotel, we overhear the movers complaining about how they are being made to wait because we were supposed to be out of here by 8, and it's close to 9. My Mom gives them an earful about how little time we had to pack compared to how long we should've had. "That's been happening to a lot of people here." one of them tells her. My whole body hurts after days of little sleep and packing extremely heavy boxes. I’ve had a throbbing headache for almost 48 hours. With the dentist appointment at 3pm that afternoon, we go to a park and I doze in the car for another five hours.

February 24th, Afternoon: Dentist appointment goes smoothly; they offer to start surgery, but I explain to them what happened with the renovation and they are perfectly fine postponing until a later date. By now, my feet hurt where the soles of my shoes have been rubbing. My ankles and knees are hurting from being crunched up inside a car for two days. My back hurts from all the lifting. I’m beyond miserable and realize there’s no way I could bare to spend 10 days living in this car. Thankfully, with the dentist appointment out of the way, it’s check in time. The hotel room is nice, but given I’ve never stayed in a hotel before, I don’t have much of a comparison. But when I fall asleep that night, I sleep harder and longer than I have in years.

February 25th: The elderly couple that lived below us at the apartment are here at the same hotel we are, and we talk to them. Turns out, the lady has the same doctor as my Mom, and they were rejected from his note, too. The approval they got for the hotel came from her husband’s doctor, who wrote an extremely detailed note about his oxygen needs. They mention that people living in our complex with disabilities weren’t housed here and they don’t know where they are or what happened to them. They also claim that the food provision stuff from the apartment front office is apparently some kind of a $45/day meal credit we get at the end of the renovation. But again, it’s still not clear, and the apartment itself has never clarified. That night, we return to the apartment again to raid our fridge for stuff to bring to the hotel. Now, if you remember, we were supposed to be able to sleep at the apartment every night. The apartment we returned to was in such a state that it would have been impossible to sleep in. No sinks, no toilets, no stove, no running water of any kind, and all of the outlets stripped down. Literally the only thing we could have done was sleep there; nothing else was possible. And even then, remember: no bedding. No pillows, no blankets, and it’s still winter out there.

Update on things I forgot: Also on the 25th, elderly couple in the unit below us also told of how the movers had thrown their $950 couch outside and left it in the dirt for multiple days, asking if it was “trash” because one of the washable seat covers had a single pet stain on it. (When we visited the apartment that night to raid the fridge, we even saw it) Not only that, but last year, our bathroom tub had been leaking in to one of their closets. They had to shut our water off for several days and fix the pipes. Apparently this caused black mold in their apartment that wasn’t discovered until they started hauling boxes out. Upon bringing it up with the renovation team, they got told “there’s black mold everywhere! it’s in the grass! it’s fine!” The husband went in to take pictures of the black mold, but by the time he got over there with the camera, the renovation team had already painted over it. Apparently another tenant on the other side of the complex had mold problems so bad that she’s been paid to stay at this hotel for more than a month already while they deal with it.

Which brings us, roughly, to today.

Now, the question I mentioned way back at the top: what are my options here, legally? A lot of friends have told me up and down that this is either illegal, or should be illegal, but I have no idea where to start with any of this stuff and frankly I’m a little gun shy. I don’t know what Nevada housing law is like, what renters rights are, and I don’t want to risk being evicted. But I also know that the threat of being evicted is also what keeps people complacent.

All I really know is that basically everything they originally told us was a lie, and they never informed us of most of these changes. As for the rest, well... just read for yourself.

Whatever you know, I’d like to know.

#renovation #timeline

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thedarklightwithinus · 4 years

Text

Coffee and Stitches. Pt 3

A/N; Final part of this little story.

Summary; Back where it all began.

Pairing; Nurse!Reader x Cop!Steve

Words; 1.4k

Part | One | Two

A few days had been and passed since Steve and Y/N had spent breakfast together at Gloria’s café. A few texts here and there had been sent which may or may not have included a video of a cat trying to fight it’s own reflection. To put it simply, work had been on both their minds and was the cause for the pair not seeing each other.

“Do you think Mr. Jones is gonna make it?” Peter muttered as Y/N stapled a bunch of paper together. “He’s not getting any better and Natasha said that he's been taking more meds for the pain recently.”

Y/N sighed. Death had been apart of the job since the very beginning. Whether that be from old age, complications during surgery or anything in between. Francis Jones had been a frequent patient to the hospital due to his old age. He was a friendly old man with stories that could make you forget about your rounds that needed doing. Peter had taken a liking to the man and had spent most of his breaks sitting and talking to him.

Y/N could remember the hour she had spent with the old man just the day prior. Her shift had finished and she had gone to Mr. Jones little safe haven on ward four to see if there was anything he needed before she left. He had drawn her in with his war stories and his way of doing things that some would consider old news. Peter had come by to check on the old man when he found the two laughing about his tale of when he had tried to convince one of the nurses on the field to come back to his barrack with him.

Moral of his story, his charming ways had convinced the nurse and in the words of ninety two year old Francis Jones, it was the best night of his war days. He spent a night with a beautiful 'dame' and went to work the very next day.

"Honestly? I think he might surprise us." Y/N smirked, nudging the young man with her shoulder. "He's got life in him yet... If it makes you feel any better, he isn't going down without a fight." Peter grinned, nodding finally as though he understood what she was getting at. "Think of all his war stories. He isn't going until he's good and ready... And not a second sooner."

Deja vu seemed to hit Y/N full force at three am a few hours later. The ward was once again empty and she and Peter were the only people working when the light box against the wall began to flash red. "This is like a re-run." She mumbled, pushing her chair out and standing up. Peter chuckled, dunking another bourbon into his mug of tea he had made minutes before.

Y/N made her way around the desk, pumping hand sanitizer on her hands as she moved past it. She rubbed her hands together, insuring the gel was properly wiped in before she came to a stop at the double doors and waited for whoever it was to come through.

Much like deja vu, the doors opened to show the same two officers who had walked through a few nights ago. Y/N sighed, frowning as she raised a brow at the blonde who smiled brightly upon seeing her. Officer Steven Rogers and his partner, Officer James 'Bucky' Barnes all but waltzed onto the ward with polite smiles that she knew to be kinder than any she's seen before.

The only difference was the lack of a felon being all but dragged between them. Y/N looked the pair over, trying to figure out why the emergency light had gone off when she noticed the dark red patch on Steve's forarm. She panicked for a split second, her eyes widening as she moved forwards. "What happened?"

"It's really nothing to worry about." He was quick to comfort her, letting her take his arm and look it over. "We couldn't stop the bleeding... So, Bucky here thought it would be best that we come down here and get it checkout out by a professional."

"Bucky here was right." She mumbled, gripping his elbow gently and leading him to the bed that was closest to where they stood. "Take a seat. I'm just gonna go grab some things and I'll get it sorted for you."

Y/N allowed the man to sit on the bed as she moved away. She made her was to the locked room that housed all the medical equipment and swiped her card. Pushing the door open, she grabbed the top tray from the counter inside and beginning to place the things she'd need on it. Once she had grabbed everything she would need and more, she left the room and insured it was closed before making her way back to Steve.

Bucky sat slouched in the chair to the side of the bed on his phone as Steve sat with his legs up on the bed. He had shed his vest and outer layers leaving him in a white police department shirt. She smiled as she moved forward, taking in the bandage he had placed over the wound.

"Did you clean it out?" She asked, placing the tray on his lap and pulling on a pair of gloves.

"I let some water run over it at the station." Steve told her, watching her as she started to unwind the bandage. "Cleaned the blood off that had already dried... That didn't do much considering it was still bleeding when I left the station."

"How'd it happen?" Y/N muttered, her brows furrowed as she got a good look at the cut that ran through his forearm.

Steve watched her pull open a wipe and begin to clean the edges of the cut before he spoke up. "Brawl down at the bar. Glasses were broke and I may or may not have slipped on spilt alcohol and landed on said glass." He chuckled, feeling slightly stupid as he noticed the cut wasn't even that deep and that it had stopped bleeding sometime since leaving the station. "I clearly wasn't paying attention to my surroundings like I should have been doing."

"There was a lot going on, Pal." Bucky spoke over the top of his phone, not taring his eyes away from said device. "Shouldn't go around blaming yourself."

"Bucky's right, Steve. You were doing your job to the best of your ability. That's all any of us can do." Y/N said, looking the wound over to insure that there was no tiny pieces of glass left within it. "Good news? You're going to live." She told him, laughing when Bucky fake cheered. "I just need to wrap this for you and then you'll be free to go... You know if you wanted to see me you could have just called."

Steve looked as though he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His cheeks brightened in colour as he chuckled almost nervously. "It really wasn't stopping... The blood I mean. Not that I didn't want to see you!" He was quick to add. "Seeing you is a bonus!"

"I'm glad you think so." Y/N laughed, wrapping the bandage around the small piece of cotton she had pressed to his wound. "Keep this wrapped for a day or two and then take it off. The fresh air will help it heal better." Once she had taped it off, she smiled and began to clean up the mess she had made while Steve shrugged his clothes back on. "You're free to leave."

It was just as she spun around, the tray in her hands that she felt herself move forward against her own will. She frowned, turning to find a red faced Steve glaring at Bucky who grinned from beside him. "I'm sorry!" Steve exclaimed. "I... slipped."

"You're slipping a lot recently." Y/N chuckled, raising a brow as Bucky slid past the pair. "Try to be car-"

"Do you want to go out with me on Friday?" Steve all but spat out. He looked slightly panicked as though he can believe what he had said.

Y/N stared at him for a moment, taking in his red cheeks with a smile as she nodded. "Sure... I'd love to go out with you."

Steve looked as though he couldn't believe she had actually agreed with him. It was as though all his recent worries had been flushed down the drain. He smiled brightly, happy with her answer as he nodded. "Alright. That's great. Yeah... Friday it is."

"Friday it is."

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trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

chambers - v

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 3273

description: Post-Endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Very loosely based on the Netflix series of the same name.)

an: a little shorter than the others, but! I just had a hellish weekend at work that’s not quite over yet and writing this between tables makes it a little better so... enjoy loves.

The community center was in Brooklyn, the large brick building housed many different projects. An after school program for kids, a homeless shelter at night, various ‘anonymous’ meetings during the day. This wasn’t like the typical VA. It was very much a hodgepodge group of people brought together by the circumstance of Sam Wilson being a good human being. Sam Wilson was probably one of the kindest people you’ve ever met.

You didn’t belong here, maybe this was a mistake. You were standing very awkwardly off to the side, holding a cheap styrofoam cup of coffee. If anything this dress was definitely a mistake, the button up t-shirt dress you figured was a nice middle ground of looking nice but not trying to look too nice, but everyone else’s jeans and t-shirts made you feel like you should have just worn jeans and a t-shirt. The exception was Sam, who ran the group. He was in a nice button down and slacks, but even Bucky was just in a black t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket.

You were trying not to think about it.

“Are you going to be okay while we make some rounds?” Sam asked you. The two wanted to leave you momentarily to go and greet people they know, “Grab a drink, we’ll be right back.”

You didn’t belong here. These men and women who actually lived it. You flinched at the memory that plagued you last night. Boot camp. It was rough, but Steve made it through. Not without sore bones and an asthma attack or two. But it wasn’t you.

You feel like a fraud.

You could feel yourself at a different time, a darker room. People who were a little more sad.

After the blip, when everyone came back, the world was a mess. People who had moved on now had their spouses, partners, kids back. Some of them had new kids, had gotten remarried. Others had died during the blip. The accidents caused by disappearing drivers, pilots. People who couldn’t handle the loss. People returning was just as bad as people disappearing. But everyone picked themselves back up a little easier.

There was optimism with loss. Iron Man, Tony Stark. Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. Captain America, Steve Rogers. They sacrificed their lives in order to save everyone in the entire universe. There were murals of their faces in every borough of New York City. You passed three on your way in.

“This VA is a little different than the one I ran in DC,” Sam said, “But it’s pretty much the same.” There was a mural of their faces in this community center. It made you a little sick. You could almost feel him looking over your shoulder, Steve, hot on your back. Like he was actually there.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Bucky told you as the three of you parked the car, “Get some coffee, eat some snacks. You can just observe.” He was trying hard for you, hand on your back, rubbing slightly to comfort you, but you felt empty when he walked away to talk to a man who was much older. Someone who was almost his actual age, in a wheelchair playing cards with men not much younger than him.

It wasn’t hard to forget that Bucky was supposedly in his hundreds. It was 2025, the guy was 108 years old. He looked to be in his 30s. You felt like you were a hundred, suddenly the coffee wasn’t that bad.

“New here?” A man sidled up next to you, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the metal coffee server next to you. He was handsome, but had the same hollow look in his eyes that you’d often seen in Bucky and Sam. Even Steve. You scraped your fingernail gently against the styrofoam. Nervously you answered,

“Yeah,” You took a sip from your coffee. Fraud. “I’m just here with some friends though,” You explained, gesturing to Sam. “I’m not- I haven’t.” He chuckled, stirring his creamer with one of the wooden stir sticks before studying you.

“It’s okay,” He smiled. Charming. “You don’t have to explain.” His hair looked like it was cut with kitchen scissors, you noticed. Shaggy and reaching around his ears. Five o’clock shadow, motor oil around his nail beds. “I’ve been coming here for about a year now,” He explained. “It gets easier.” Sip of coffee and a sweet smile. “No matter what brought you here.”

“I’m Y/N.” You offered him your hand. He grinned, his teeth were perfectly straight.

“I’m Eric.” His hand was rough and calloused in yours, a shiver went through your body when you noticed he had dimples. “Do you wanna sit by me, maybe?” He gestured over to where Sam and Bucky were setting up the circle of chairs. You looked over at the both of them, who seemed intent on trying to not pay attention to your conversation. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared at Bucky for a moment more, heart aching,

“Sure.”

He refreshed your coffee for you and sat a little too close to make you comfortable. You didn’t notice Bucky and Sam exchange a look, before Bucky decided to sit on the other side of you.

“You okay?” He asked, nudging your arm softly, eyes pointedly glancing at Eric. You nodded silently, giving him a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You could tell he felt unsure, shifting down in his seat so he could look at Eric from behind you.

Bucky was unsure about this guy.

“He’s just being friendly,” Sam assured him as they brought out the metal folding chairs from the utility closet. “We left her alone for a while, she obviously was uncomfortable.” Bucky huffed grumpily.

“He’s trying to hit on her.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Relax Buck.” Sam unfolded the papers from his pocket and laid them on the chair he’d be using, “She’s fine.” It didn’t stop him from heavily taking the chair next to yours, leaning back in his seat to examine the guy as he talked, trying to read him and see what he was all about.

“I lost my wife in the field.” He said. Your heart broke, “We were in separate divisions. I’m a marine, she was in the air force.” You could see Bucky shift in his seat. “During the blip she was running drills with a teammate, the plane went down when her teammate blipped.” Eric’s eyes were watery when they met yours, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “I had blipped myself so…” He swallowed harshly. “When I came back… I had nothing to come back to. I always thought if either of us were to die at war it would be me y’know? The air force is typically pretty safe.”

“We were all affected by the blip,” Sam explained, “Some in more ways than others. You’re very brave for sharing that with us.” Bucky grunted next to you and you looked over at him, sunk down in his seat, hands in his jacket pockets, starting ahead at Sam.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered to Eric, placing a hand on his arm. He looked at you with a watery smile.

“I’m trying to move on,” He explained to the group. “It’s been two years since I’ve been back and I think it’s finally time.” The group clapped for him in encouragement.

The air here was tense. Everyone had a story like this, something similar anyway. Sam lost his best friend out in the field. A girl named Ally lost her right leg in Afghanistan. A man named Neil’s daughter died overseas in war, he fought in Vietnam. It was heartbreaking. These people were laying themselves bare, exposing their insecurities and their fears. Their never ending night terrors and crowd anxiety. Slowly, over time, the room became lighter. More relieved.

“You think you’ll be back?” Eric asked you as people were collecting their belongings. You shifted your empty coffee cup between your hands, looking at Bucky behind you.

“Maybe,” You said with a nervous smile.

“We just have to clean up and then we can go if you want,” Bucky interrupted, giving Eric a tight smile before looking at you.

“We can stay if you wanted to play some cards or something?” You offered. Bucky had promised one of the older men from earlier that he would stick around and play a hand or two. He shrugged, looking over at Sam.

“I’m just saying, the first time is kind of intense,” Eric was standing off to the side awkwardly during this exchange where Bucky seemed to be ignoring his presence. “If you wanna go back home we can.” His hand lay comfortingly on your arm.

You shake your head, “No, go ahead. I’ll be fine.” He nodded once, eyes drifting back to Eric’s momentarily before grabbing both of your chairs and walking away.

“Your boyfriend is scary.” Eric laughed nervously.

“Oh he’s not-” You gestured towards Bucky, “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just like-” You didn’t know how to properly explain it, “Roommates.” Sounds about right.

Relief crossed Eric’s features, “Oh good,” He walked with you back over to the coffee and continued as you poured yourself another cup, “So it wouldn’t be too forward of me to ask you to dinner?” Your hand stilled under the coffee server, looking up at the man beside you.

He was handsome and from what you could tell he was kind. It just wasn’t the right time. You had so much going on. How would you even begin to explain the compound? He had to know who Bucky and Sam were.

“Is that a no?” He chuckled nervously. You sighed and looked down at the black liquid in your cup.

“I’m sorry,” Your eyes met his crestfallen ones, “It’s just…” you looked over at Bucky and Sam, sitting down to join the older men in a game of poker. “I’m recovering from heart surgery and it’s been…a process.” A soft smile broke out on his face,

“Not technically a no… can I at least give you my number?” He offered, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Maybe once you’re a little more out of the process?” You’ve never really dated, having been too sick for most of your life. This could be your chance to go on an honest to god date. Flowers, dinner, everything. You were still so unsure of your feelings. Steve’s and yours mixed all together in this overflowing pot you’d been trying to keep from spilling over.

“Sure,” You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your dress, exchanging numbers with him. He was charming and if that dimple was anything to go by, you could imagine caring about him. Someone that seemed as broken as you felt. Maybe. In a different place, a better life.

“Stay safe out there.” He called as you left to join Sam and Bucky at the poker table.

“You too,” You called back, choosing to pointedly ignore Sam and Bucky’s questioning looks.

“What was that all about?” Sam asked teasingly. A blush spread across your cheeks,

“Nothing.” Bucky was stiff next to you. They dealt you in, a game you’d never played before, but the older man--Louie--assured you he’d help you out. He was wearing his Vietnam veteran hat and he told you that you reminded him of his granddaughter.

“You shouldn’t really be dating right now.” Bucky said later on in the car on the ride home. Sam gave him a side eye,

“Buck, chill.” Sam glanced at you in the rear-view mirror.

“It’s none of your business frankly.” What the fuck? “I told him no.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, sinking down in the back seat.

“I’m just saying,” Bucky shrugged, looking out the car window, “You should be focusing on figuring out whatever is going on with you right now.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” You snapped, glaring at the back of his head. God his hair was shiny. “What is your problem?”

“Yeah, Bucky, what’s your problem?” Sam pulled up to the gate of the compound, scanning a key card to enter. He grumbled in the passenger seat,

“Something’s off about that guy.” He explained to the both of you, “I don’t like him.”

“Something off like what?” You asked angrily, leaning towards the passenger seat. “Him asking me to dinner or him crying about his dead wife?”

“I don’t know yet.” You rolled your eyes, shifting away from him.

“This is just like that time Barbie Goldstien asked me to the Sadie Hawkins instead of you, you literally swore she was doing it to be mean.” You accused. Heart dropping out of your chest practically as you realize what you just said. The car was parked and the three of you sat in a tense silence. No one moved. Your throat was closing up, where did all the air go? Bucky practically ripped the car door off, kicking it open with his foot, leaving it open. He walked four paces away towards the front door before turning and returning to the car, ducking his head back in to stare you down, face enraged,

“She did ask Steve as a prank, I told her to either go with him for real or to fake sick otherwise I was going to tell everyone about her pissing herself in the hallway in the first grade. So my intuition was right.” Car door slammed and he was stomping up to the house, leaving the two of you in a strange silence. You tossed your head back, looking at the sky from the back window of the car, tears welling in your eyes.

“I can never win Sam.” He leaned back against the headrest sighing heavily. “I’m losing what’s me and what is him.” He looked at you from the rearview mirror, you lifted your head to look at him.

“Bucky is never going to be easy.” He explained, “He’s trying.” You know he is. “He’s trying.” Sam repeated again, rubbing his eyes.

You didn’t see either of them for the rest of the night.

“I’m getting better at it,” Wanda said, her powers. Practicing. They were incredible, powerful. She was strong, “I lost a lot of confidence after what happened in Nigeria, but I’ve come a long way since then.” She was lifting things in the gym, both of you in workout gear, she was showing you how easily she could lift heavy objects, but you already knew that. You’ve already seen it. “I try not to use the mind warping unless I actually have to.” She explains. You remember that too. She’d shown you Peggy.

She’d shown Steve, Peggy.

You could almost feel her dress beneath your fingertips, swaying side to side, dancing in your living room. Nat King Cole crooning over the speakers of the record table under the window that faced the rose bushes you’d planted for her, their buds just peeking over the windowsill. A roast was in the oven, it was Sunday.

“I was thinking of taking a Holiday,” She whispered against your chest. “We could go to the beach?” You hummed in contentment,

“We can do that.” You flitted back to the quiet singing coming over the speakers. This is what you wanted wasn’t it? Peggy was in your arms, shield and hammer packed away. For all intents and purposes you were a house husband. Coming out whenever Peggy had something she needed your help with, but for the most part…

You cooked, cleaned, you’d recently been discussing having a child.

Who were you now?

You were just Steve Rogers.

Just Steve.

“Hey,” Wanda was in your line of vision, “You okay?” You hummed,

“Yeah, did I have another seizure?” She shook her head.

“No, you just kind of drifted off, like daydreaming.” Huh. “You had another memory?” Her brow was pinched in concern.

“Yeah,” You shake your head as if clearing a fog. “I did.” You sighed heavily, rolling back to lay down on the mat beneath you, staring at the ceiling.

“What was it about?” She asked, sitting herself next to you.

“Peggy.” You gave her a tense smile. “It’s so strange to love someone—remember someone—in such an intimate way, someone I’ve never known myself… but Steve loved her.” Wanda nodded, hand coming to rub your back soothingly.

“He left all of us for her.” Emotion thick in her voice.

It was hard to remember that Bucky wasn’t the only person that lost Steve. The only person who was devastated by him leaving. He left handprints on all of these people’s lives and just left. “The only selfish thing the guy’s ever done in his life.” Sam told you with a humorless laugh.

No.

Steve’s done a bunch of selfish things.

The accords.

You felt the self-righteousness. The belief in being right. A part of you still staunchly believes you did the right thing, the only thing you could have done. The only thing Steve could have done. But you know that it could have been handled differently.

Steve was clouded by thoughts of Bucky and the need to protect the man who always protected him. Bucky was a good kid. Better than Steve ever was. While Bucky was taking care of his Ma, his sister Becca, and Steve himself, Steve was off getting into fights and trying to illegally enlist in the war he would lose Bucky to.

Bucky was really good at science and math, he liked dancing and music, he loved the movies. He had time for all of those things, when he wasn’t pulling twelve hour shifts at the canary and picking Steve’s sorry ass off the street where his face had found someone’s fists.

You suddenly realized why Bucky looked so tired.

He’s been tired his entire life.

“I can understand why he did it,” Wanda continued, “If I had the chance to have either of them back…” You nodded solemnly, the two of you coming to hold each other in the middle of the gym.

“That’s the thing though right?” You stared over her shoulder, watching Bucky as he entered the gym, eyes catching yours, “If we all got everything we ever wanted the world would probably be a much more terrible place.”

You were trying to sleep when the first text came in,

Eric: Hey, I know this is a little soon and you said you weren’t ready to date, but everyone has time for friends right?

You stared at your phone screen in the dark, thinking about the man you had met earlier in the day. You’ve always felt pretty average. You knew you weren’t ugly, but you wouldn’t exactly compare yourself to Gal Gadot or anything. You’d just never had the time for actual dating. You were born with heart problems, they persisted throughout your entire life getting increasingly worse until you found yourself on the table under a knife getting the heart of a deceased super soldier. In high school, prime dating years, you spent more time in the hospital than in the classroom and you were sickly, pale, always with bags under your eyes and a crushing fatigue.

You’d never been approached like this before.

You’d never been asked on a date before.

You’d never had someone ask you for your number and then text you the same day before.

This was new.

So what are you supposed to do? You stared at your phone screen in the dark, the light from it illuminating your face as you typed out your reply.

Do you want to get coffee sometime?

taglist // @nutellakirb @witch-of-letters @torntaltos @emotionallysalty @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @albinotigerpython @an-lover

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #Avengers #captain america #sebastian stan

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vivinightingale · 4 years

Note

If you’re still doing requests for Hanasaki disease headcanons, I’d like to request them for Ryou Bakura, where the feelings are mutual. In addition to the usual [character] has disease and [reader] has disease ones, could you do one where they both have it, because of each other?

I'm glad you requested this before part three went up Because he was actually meant to be a sad unhappy ending so i'll write this one with a happy ending for you

Hanahaki Disease: An illness born from one sided love, where the victim's throat will fill up with flowers. They will then begin to throw up, or cough up the petals. In serious cases the flowers themselves. There are only two ways to get rid of the said disease. If the person the victim loves loves them back (strong friendship isn't adequate enough) or through surgery. If neither work the victim will suffocate on the flowers resulting in death.

Flowers mentioned:

Tulip: Love and, Confidence

Sunflower: Adoration, Loyalty

Rose: love

~Bakura Ryou

~If he had disease:

The sweet british boy always had a cowed of girls around him. He never understood why himself, but no ever caught his eyes in a romantic way. Well that was until he saw you.

You were sitting outside at lunch with a guy he didn't recognize. The two of you were getting heated over duel monsters. Now not only did you rbeauty peak his interest, but you were also interested in Duel monsters? Well now he had to introduce himself.

He walked up to the two of you as the battle ended and you stood up in victory “Told you I could beat you !” he smiled slightly at the scene “That was some good dueling.

The british accept caught your attention and a blush came across your face. “Oh um thanks” you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

That was the first encounter you had with a boy, but certainly not the last (He made sure of that). Everytime lunch rolled around the boy was always there watching your duels. Something about seeing the passion in your eyes he adored it. The more the two of you talked the more addicted he became to you.

This addiction came with a price however. He believed you and the boy from before had something going on since the two of them were always with each other, and everytime he saw the two of you the more the flowers began to grow until eventually he began coughing them up.

Blood stained Roses, Tulips, and Sunflowers feel from his pale lips as another cough racked his body. He did understand what his body was going through, but it seemed Yami did.

“Idiot its called Hanahaki, the disease of one-sided love.” Yami held a sad look in his eyes as he explained it to his vessel. “Get this treated, i don't want to deal with it.”

Bakura didn't want to get the surgery until he knew for certain that you held no feelings for him. So during the lunch break before you went to one your duels he pulled you aside.

“Sorry for taking you aside (y/n), but…...i wanted you to know that i have strong feelings for you….I like you a lot.”

You were shocked for a moment as the blush spread across your face. Once you regained your brain you smiled big and told him you felt the same way about him.

Shocked, he asked you about the guy you were always with. When you explained to him the boy was your cousin he felt overjoyed.

He coughed up flowers for the rest of that month, but you were with him every step of his recovery. Having you by his side was the thing to ever happen to him, and he loved to remind you of that every day.

~If you had the disease:

You loved to duel it was one of your favorite pastimes, but you didn't start dueling to get into the big leagues (Kiba’s icy eyes kind scared you tbh). No you dueled to get his attention. Bakura Ryou is one of the most attractive guy you ever laid your eyes on.

You heard through the grapevine that he likes duel monsters so in order to stand out from his group of fangirls you picked up the game, and got pretty good at it, Or at least you assumed so since he seemed to always pop up when you were dueling.

Having him there made the game more exciting so you got more heated up then you have before. You must have been doing something right because he came up to you first and started talking to you.

You were over the moon when he started talking to you, and luckily for you that wasn't the last you two spoke.

Weeks went by and he would always come up to you after a duel complimenting you on your skills, and then talk about other things.

The more your feelings grew for him, the more the flowers took over till you were coughing them up. The pain became unbearable so you began distancing yourself from him afraid to show him the bloody mess you have become.

One day you luck ran out for you however, As you coughed up flowers in the far corners of the courtyard you didn't notice Bakura rounding the corner looking for you. When he spotted you coughing up more flowers and blood.

“How long have you had this (y/n)?!” you shook your head trying not to look him in the eyes. “(y/n)! I don't care if you dont feel the same, but i care so deeply for you to see you go through this painful disease!”

Your eyes widened “you care….about me?” he wrapped his arms around you “of course i do!”

You began to sob in his arms as you told him you felt the same way. That day or any day after that he never left you side helping you get rid of the flowers in your lungs, and replacing them love and adoration that he held for you

~Requests are open~

#yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yu gi oh x reader #yugioh x reader #yami bakura #ryou bakura #ryou bakura x reader #bakura x reader

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hjh-ceilo-monster · 4 years

Text

Hybrid verse : Blindmate (PJM)

Jimin POV.

I stucked for a long time,as long as I remember.Staying inside the foster house or should I say the cage for animals.If you were guessing about me being hybrid,then you were on the right track.

Nothing much about me,my name is Park Jimin.I’m a normal calico cat hybrid however because I looked smaller than usual they seperate me from others. They thought I might have some kind of disease,wierd right?

In fact not only because of my size but sights as well.I’m blind since birth and that made me lived in the life game called ‘odd one out’.I was upset at fisrt but not now.Leaving alone isn’t as bad as I thought.

My wish was like the others,to get adopt.Even though I’m blind,I still hope some one would get me out of this cage.I didn’t like the smell of metallic and rust in here since they were abondoned me for who know how long.

I started singing because I’m bored“Just let me love....you.”I sang the last part however I heard someone sang the chorus for me.Her voice,I assume,is really smooth and angelic.

“You have a beautiful voice.” I heard the voice again.I touched my face and felt it was getting hot,blushing of course.I only smile widely,wish to have eyes right now.I wanted to see her face so bad.

The next three words made me froze.“I want him.” She stated out and I was really sure that the staff here must not believed what she said.Not their fault because neither myself believed what I heard.

“Are you sure miss? He’s smaller than usual and has many health problem.You need to take care a lot...” And the staff started ranting out why I was an odd one.“Yes I’m sure.” Another three words that hit me with a truck of emotions.

Finally I got my own house? Someone wanted to be my owner? If some one woke me up from the dream,I sweared to scratch their eye balls out.Oh my god,I’m so happy,excited,nervous and Idk what I should rant out anymore.

3 hours later : present time

“We are now arrived,kitten.” I blush with the pet name.First I get someone to adopt me and now she treat me nice already.Once in my life,I feel lucky.She guide me in,tell every details about my room before leave me alone.

“And remember if you need me,opposit room is always welcome.” Last statement before she exit.I don’t need to do anything since she already decorate my room.I lay myself on the bed,first time in my life to have such a soft bed.

‘You are just a peice of trash.’

‘No one want you,blind freak.’

Y/N POV.

I’m cleaning the corridor on the second floor,floor for our bedrooms.He’s really nice and fluffy also shy.His beautiful voice is actually a cherry on top and I really love it.Well let’s me introduce a bit about myself first.

I’m Y/N and from the beginning you could see my talent.I can sing yes but not that professional like artist.Still I consider myself as an artist,although I perform on the street or alley.My real job(?) is a staff in amusement park.

I wanna change though not because of it’s boring.I just want to be a real artist but it difficult since I lack my inspiration lately.To enter the new contest that going to come up,I need the inspiration.

When I hear his voice it’s fascinating and I hopt to learn a lot from him.Maybe we can be duo artist who knows.I think about that and smile but in the next second I run to his room after hearing him shout.

“Jimin,what’s wrong?” I hug him tight after that boy run into me.He explains what happen with him,the dream he had.Those lead us to a story time episode get to know Jimin better.I calm him down,comfort him and tell him sweat words.

A week pass

It’s been a week and Jimin can adjust with the new environment now.I put him in the university course since he never get a chance to study.He choose to study contemporary dance major since it’s been his dream.

I’m fine with him so far.He’s good with what he’s doing and that makes me happen,he even strike the class and become the top student in no time.For me,living with him make me get inspiration every day.

Author POV.

Both of them go through thick and thin together.They both have their dream and it acts like their stand for their life.Y/N treat Jimin like human which make Jimin fall deeply into her so does Y/N when it comes to her feeling toward him.

Today is the final round for Y/N and she need to perform her song.“I can’t do this.They are so good.” She mumble however with Jimin sensitive ears,he hear them clearly.“You’re the best believe me.Believe in you like what I do.”

He says that while hugging her tight.Her name come up in the line and she get on the stage to perform.She start to perform what she got,pouring all emotion into the song.When it end,applause can be heard everywhere.

The luck really stay on her side.She finally get what she wants which is the chance to become an artist with money.She plan to surprise Jimin with the gift she prepared for all these years.

“And my surprise for him in that day was taking him to the doctor.The doctor said he had a chance to get normal eye sight.He gwent though a surgery and finally can see the world like I do.”

“And for me after that I entered the dance contest.I won that day which made me cry my heart out.We both started our career life since then.Thanks to her,she always stayed with me and went through the hard time in this career and here we are now.”

4 years later : Interview Program

They are now finish the interview and getting the first break.The second break is going to start soon.Their managers then prepare everything and the staff tell them about the script briefly.

“Start in 3...2..1...” The reporter then asking a few mor questions about their ‘couple’ life.That’s when the last question come up.“We all know that you’re together for 3-4 years right?Will there be a good new soon?”

Y/N confuse since that isn’t in the script but Jimin only smile.He then stand up and also grab Y/N up with him.“What are you doing?” She whisper toward him. The next action makes her gasp in surprise.

“Will you,F/N L/N,become the love of my life from now and forever?” He kneel down and take out the ring.She can only nod as a yes.No more speaking ability because she afraid her voice might betray her and let out the sob instead.

Jimin put the ring on her finger and all of sudden he lift her up.Her face is now the same level as him so his kiss her passionately.Everyone in the studio is in awe and some of them even cry.Pull apart from each other,he then whisper.

“Thank you for accepting it,my queen.I promise to love you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow.” She smile and peck him before speak.“No matter what, I’ll love you like the first day I start loving you.Love always,my blindmate.”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop BTS #bts fic #bts one shot #BTS jimin #park jimin #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x army #fancfiction #cat hybrid #park jimin cat hybrid #bts #bangtan #bts imagines #oneshot #hybrid au #Hybrid Verse

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sparklyjojos · 4 years

Text

CARNIVAL recaps [13/13]

Today’s recap: Holy mother of all cliffhangers, or: RISE rules the world, Hyouma doesn’t understand anything anymore, and NO NOT HIM PLEASE NO

TWENTY-SIX

01 Feb 1997 — 07 Feb 1997

EQUATOR

LINK / I / RING (DOLL)

Hikimiya can’t stop thinking about his beloved Otohime, who disappeared who knows where. By association he keeps thinking of her brother Jounosuke too. It’s unthinkable that a plain accident killed someone with such extraordinary luck, who had even got out of the JDC explosion unscathed and had always been a master of rock-paper-scissors. The grief and stress makes Hikimiya feel like a dead husk of a person, his attention span plummeting.

Two months ago, this inability to focus resulted in him accidentally crossing the street at a red light, straight into the path of an oncoming truck. The only reason why he’s still alive is that the truck happened to hit a labrador retriever, which changed its path enough that Hikimiya got away with just horribly injured legs. Even two months later he still has to use a wheelchair to get around.

This entire event feels strangely familiar. When Otohime was younger, she saved a dog from getting run over by a similar car, which hit her and paralyzed her from the waist down. The dog in question was a golden retriever, the same that’s currently living as the Ryuuguu family’s pet Tamatebako.

Even though Hikimiya could never stand dogs, he can’t stop thinking about that poor dead labrador. It feels like that miserable animal was a shadow of himself from the past; it’s like a weaker version of Hikimiya also died that day, never to return. It’s better if he gathers his strength and starts a new life.

Hikimiya focuses on using Frau D’s supercomputer and the Desert Colosseum AI to obtain helpful information. True to its name, It does feel a bit like pulling up individual grains of data from a vast Desert and displaying it in a Colosseum, the “round theater” of the Egg Mac.

While working with the supercomputer one day, Hikimiya finds a file saved as FD SECRET SERVICE. The initials FD probably stand for Frau D, but what’s that about secret service? He tries a few passwords before he almost accidentally inputs the valid one: his own first name spelled YUYA. (He prefers not to think about the possible implications of why Frau D set his name as a password.)

The file is a “report to Desert Colosseum” written in the middle of January. It contains a long table of numbers showing how many people in the world died each day since August 10th (the beginning of the Crime Olympics) up to New Year’s Eve (a month ago)... and it completely contradicts the official UN information.

The figure UN gives for the death toll is a steady four million each day since the beginning. This file, however, shows that the figure started much lower, below a hundred thousand, and has steadily climbed to reach about three million sixty hundred thousand deaths per day at the end of the year. This comes to about three hundred million deaths in all, at a medium rate of two millions per day.

At the end of the file, someone signed “D” promises to send the complete data for the first half-year in the next update near the end of February.

Hikimiya doesn’t know which set of data to believe, this secret file or the official UN statistics. This mysterious sender “D” can’t be Frau D, considering the file is addressed to “Desert Colosseum”. The report was sent on the day when Hikimiya wasn’t around the computer. Perhaps Frau D sneaked out of the hospital and received this message?

What’s more worrying is the phrasing of the first half-year. Assuming it means the six months between August 10th and the beginning of February (probably Saturday the 7th), then… will there be a second half? Today, on February 1st, the twenty-sixth Billion Killer case is expected to happen. Is the humanity doomed to endure another twenty-six afterwards? What will have happened to the world by the time of August 10th 1997?

LINK / II / RING (JDC)

On February 1st, BOKU shows up at JDC for the first time in months and gives Dokuson a resignation letter, saying that he’s not cut out for this job and he feels he can’t really trust Dokuson. In fact, he’s started suspecting him of cooperating with RISE, and won’t feel comfortable working under him until his doubts are cleared.

Dokuson answers in a typical Dokuson-y way that it should be very clear on which side his loyalties lie, because he’s always first and foremost loyal to himself, his person being an entire side of its own. Accusing him of working for RISE is ridiculous, because there is no way that the world’s greatest genius such as he would let anyone control him.

BOKU asks for the truth about the “baby detective” Hanto Kuraimu, to which Dokuson answers that the truth is quite simple and concerns Kuraimu’s father, who was a member of RISE.

Dokuson claps his hands and a young woman BOKU has never seen before enters the room. She’s dressed in full black shinobi costume. Apparently she’s the Kunoichi Detective Sarutobi Shinobu and has been working under Dokuson for quite a while, but no one except him and Ushiwaka knew about her existence. (BOKU realizes now that while Dokuson always rudely calls everyone by their first name, it’s not the case with “Ushiwaka-san”. Huh.) Dokuson asks Sarutobi to bring them files on Tanna Sazen.

BOKU asks why Dokuson would trust him enough to let him know about Sarutobi’s existence. The answer is simple: because Dokuson can tell BOKU is the kind of person who would never betray him, and even the world’s greatest genius needs a trusted underling. He sounds unusually sincere.

Asked about his true aim in solving cases, Dokuson states that he wants to save the humankind from the Crime Olympics—because you see, he still has a lot of things he wants to do in life and it would be troublesome if humanity went extinct before he’s done.

(BOKU feels like he’s grown to like Dokuson’s “narcissistic reasoning” much more after this conversation. Amazing how in a roundabout way it drives him to save others.)

Dokuson also tells him the true reason why he organized that New Years reasoning contest—so he could observe the JDC Band closely throughout the event. This observation made him sure that the group is working for RISE, which might sound funny, but Dokuson warns BOKU against underestimating the influence of charismatic celebrities.

Finally, Dokuson tells him that thanks to an investigation with help of Sarutobi Shinobu, he was recently able to pin down the true identity of Tsukumo Jaki. As soon as they get him, it will allow Juku to finally come back and fully assist Dokuson in solving the Crime Olympics.

LINK / III / RING (RISE)

When Amagi Hyouma leaves the bar in Acapulco, he meets someone outside—a man in a suit and glasses, whose face is quite different now, but his demeanor instantly makes Hyouma realize that it must be his old partner Yakuma Suzume. Yakuma seems even more dangerous and cold than before, and after a scuffle threatens Hyouma into jumping off the cliffs of La Quebrada.

When Hyouma comes to, he’s sitting in a tiny room. Yakuma shows up on a monitor on the wall and tells him that they are right now headed to the Sanctuary, RISE’s invisible moving fortress. A helpful video feed shows that they are on a submarine moving through ocean depths before getting through a giant black wall (a bigger submarine?). Apparently RISE has a lot of those small submarines called Elphins, which are made of the same glistening substance as the Billion Killer skulls. When underwater, the ships are practically unseeable. When surfacing, their top part glistening with many colors looks like a strange round thing that can be mistaken for many different things at first sight, like a giant turtle carapace or a giant peach.

After some time, Yakuma enters the room assisted by a strange man called the Doctor or White Rook, who is indeed wearing all white and a mask with the symbol of an eye in a triangle. When Hyouma points out that it’s very rude to wear a mask when welcoming a guest, the man in white removes it and shows his face—and he looks exactly like the man next to him.

The first Yakuma (?) explains that he underwent surgery to make himself look similar to the Doctor. Before that, he had Hyouma’s face for a while, and even earlier he had Yakuma’s. The person Hyouma had always known as “Yakuma Suzume” was in fact this man, an imposter who had murdered the real Yakuma. All the splendid plastic surgeries were performed by this here Doctor, who also made a dead body look like Yakuma-disguised-as-Hyouma so it could be dropped in La Quebrada earlier.

The explanations are interrupted by the arrival of a group of six people. Three of them are men in black. The next two are the missing women, Ryuuguu Otohime and Tsukumo Nemu.

The last person, sleeping deeply in a wheelchair, is Ryuuguu Jounosuke.

Things get even stranger when “Yakuma” says that actually, Ryuuguu Jounosuke is dead, and the one sitting there is the Sanctuary’s own Master, Black Rook.

Hyouma almost punches unflinching “Yakuma” before White hurries with explanations. Black Rook is sick with Alive and while he’s not in danger of dying, they will need to help wake him from his coma in a week so he can command over the Sanctuary’s machines again. More will be explained later, but for now Hyouma, Nemu and Otohime only have to know that they’re needed. If they don’t help, well… it might just lead to the destruction of humanity—this isn’t a threat, but a warning.

Things somehow get even weirder when Hyouma realizes he knows the faces of the three men in black. They look like the JDC security guard Nakamoto Hiroya, the samurai detective Unomaru Suzukaze, and last but not least, his old dear Takabe Yuu.

Some time later, on February 1st, Hyouma is led to a meeting room with a great round table for thirteen people. Sitting there are White Rook, six other people wearing similar clothes and masks but in different colors, Otohime, Nemu, and even still sleeping Jounosuke (?). White announces that “Mein Fuhrer” will not be attending the meeting today, but everyone else is already in place. (Hyouma notices “Yakuma” isn’t around, though.)

“I believe introductions are in order,” White says. “I am the Sanctuary’s Doctor, Endou Naoto. You already know Black Rook, also called Ryuuou. Going in clockwise order, we have the following people next: Red Knight, or Lemuria Sullivan. Orange Knight, Firannu Meirunesia. Yellow Bishop, Ajiro Souji. Green Bishop, Desert Colosseum. Blue King, Zerofini Roi. Violet Queen, Ronely Queen. Finally, the three guests, Ryuuguu Otohime, Amagi Hyouma, and Tsukumo Nemu.”

Hyouma can’t believe what he’s hearing. Those six that look like RISE’s higher ups are the six out of seven S-detectives? This masked yellow guy is Ajiro?!

“The Sanctuary will be heading back to the Moonbow Palace,” White continues, “but before that, let us check on the development of the Crime Olympics Beast Eradication Plan. If the guests have any questions, please ask them now.”

Otohime is the one to ask a question, apparently having already been told a little about what’s going on.

“So we are Gods, and the plan you speak of pertains to the elimination of all Beasts, but what is the difference between the two? How are these groups defined?”

“That’s a great question! The answer will have to wait, but I assure you they have clear definitions. Anyone else? If not, I’d like to show you a video.”

“A report from the Pawns?” wonders Yellow Bishop in Ajiro Souji’s voice.

As if that in itself wasn’t a horrible thing for Hyouma to face, the big screen behind White then shows a split of eight recordings, each showing one of those Pawns that going by chess logic must be the underlings of the rainbow RISE executives. The eight Pawns are the same people who recently took part in the G8 Summit in Athens—the representatives of USA, Canada, England, France, Germany, Italy, the European Union, and Japan.

RISE is holding the world in check. How does one even fight against something like this?

After all those strange words about Beasts and Gods, Hyouma knows he hasn’t even breached the surface of what’s going on yet, but already has a feeling like things are only going to get worse.

LINK / IV / RING (EQUATOR~EARTH)

On January 25th, the day when a sudden rumble and earthquake make experts uncover a weird crater with the Billion Killer’s skull in Iceland, a giant cave is discovered underneath. The structures inside bring to mind a giant underground city of three levels connected with slopes and paths, about five hundred rooms in all. The upper levels of the complex are bright thanks to lighting powered by geothermal energy. There are even underground springs to provide water.

There is also a million and a half bodies all around the place, and less than a hundred mentally broken survivors.

A confusing investigation reveals that the complex is something that RISE calls Shangri-La, a “detention camp for Beasts”, where all those people were gathered to take part in “World Championships of Criminals”. All of them appear to be former prisoners, either those who mysteriously fled, those who were confirmed to have died in jail, or who were executed.

A week after the gruesome discovery, on February 1st, what looks like a strange spot of dark color is discovered on the ocean’s surface at the atoll of Kiribati. From this origin point soon grows out a line of colored water, moving forward at a breathtaking speed roughly equal to that of the Earth’s rotation. It’s quickly discovered that the colored water is actually blood.

Just as miraculously as a magician produces a dove out of a hat, vast quantities of blood continue appearing out of nowhere, the line tracing the entire length of the equator—which is coincidentally known in Japanese as “the red road” (sekidou, 赤道). The giant red ring that perhaps symbolizes the Crime Olympics cuts even through water reservoirs on land like the Victoria Lake in Africa.

When exactly a day later the line wraps around the Earth and meets its origin point, a skull of the Billion Killer comes floating up.

LINK / V / RING (GENSOUKAN)

In a clearing between the sea of trees, by a small lively stream, there is Gensoukan, a darkly-painted concrete building with two floors. The plate by the door should say:

幻想館 GENSO-KAN

~SINCE 1667~

...but the K is missing, so it can also be read as Gensouan, “the illusory hermitage”.

On February 7th, Inugami Yasha sits by the stream and thinks about everything.

Yasha has been hiding in Gensoukan for two months now together with Tsukumo Juku. It’s been quite a while, but fortunately Juku had an important call from Dokuson lately and announced that they will likely be able to finally stop hiding soon. In fact, Juku has just told Yasha about the true identity of Tsukumo Jaki.

Everything is going to be fine. The God of Detectives is going to save the world again.

Suddenly, Yasha feels a prick of a blade on the back of his neck and a voice from behind orders him to stay quiet.

When Juku opens Gensoukan’s door to head outside, he is immediately attacked with a sword and only dodges the blow thanks to his quick instincts. Still, his neck feels hot, blood flows, cut pieces of long black hair scatter in the air.

He can hear Yasha screaming, begging him to run away. The boy’s on the ground, the hand he’s pressing to his neck red with blood.

Juku jumps away from another attack, then finally takes a better look at the assassin. A silver tunic and pants, the letter R on the belt, and on their head a mask of—not something like a demon, but a bull.

“You must be Tsukumo Jaki—Mr. Yakuma Suzume?” Juku asks.

But the minotaur assassin ignores his question completely and launches another attack, the cold steel of the sword stabbing into Juku’s chest and through his body.

Yasha’s scream of anguish echoes through the mountains as the most fleetingly beautiful flower of blood blossoms forth.

...THE END?

[>>>Continued in Carnival Day.]

#sparkly reads carnival #maijo and jdc stuff #why

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starringemiliaclarke · 4 years

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Press: Emilia Clarke: ‘I didn’t want people to think of me as sick'

THE GUARDIAN – As she stars in this year’s Christmas feelgood movie, Emilia Clarke talks about the intense scrutiny of Game of Thrones, how she coped with the brain haemorrhage that almost killed her – and why we all need to escape reality sometimes

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PHOTOSHOOTS & OUTTAKES > 2019 > 2019 The Guardian

MAGAZINES > 2019 > 2019 The Observer – Dec 1

Emilia Clarke had a headache. It was 2011, just before Valentine’s Day and just after she’d wrapped on the first series of Game of Thrones, playing Daenerys Targaryen, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. She didn’t yet know, as she crawled into the locker room of her local gym in north London and vomited bile into the toilet, that Game of Thrones would run for seven further seasons, break Emmy-award records for most wins for a scripted television series and for a drama, be named one of the greatest TV shows of all time, and quickly come to define her. But there was much she didn’t know.

She didn’t know that at 24 she had suffered a life-threatening stroke, a subarachnoid haemorrhage (SAH) caused by bleeding into the space surrounding the brain. She didn’t know, as she lay on the floor repeating lines from Game of Thrones in order to test her memory, that a third of SAH patients die immediately, or that those who survive require urgent treatment to avoid a second, often fatal bleed. She didn’t know there was another swollen blood vessel in her brain, which had doubled in size by the time she finished filming season three. She didn’t know that one day, eight years later, over biscuits on her pink sofa, she would be smiling with the dark realisation that her stroke was one of the best things that could have happened to her.

Her pink sofa is in her pink house, which is also green and blue and muted shades of rust, and has a secret bar hidden in a courtyard shed, and an outdoor screening room heated by a wood-burning stove. To walk into her living room, where one corner is painted with a symbol relating to her mum, another to her late dad, and a third with a meaningful dragon, is to enter the cosiest corner of Clarke’s mind. By the stairs, horsehair is visible in the plaster; the walls are stripped back to the bone. She shows me round with a raw sort of glee, a sense that her comfort and safety are bound into the details: the friends’ art on the walls, the “single girl’s” bedroom. She moved in after Game of Thrones; in this and many ways, her life can be cleanly dissected into before and after.

Before, Clarke, now 33, who grew up in Oxfordshire, had appeared in a single episode of the daytime soap Doctors. She was ambitious, optimistic and relentlessly cheerful. After, after Game of Thrones, and the death of her father, which shook her family, as did her life-threatening stroke, she is sitting on her pink sofa and contemplating a decade that changed her.

“And yes, I’m at the point where I definitely think of the brain haemorrhage as a good thing,” she nods. She has extremely expressive eyebrows that appear jointed – for every word Clarke says, and she says many, they add 15 more. “Because I was never destined to be the ‘young actor goes off the rails’ type, up and down the gossip columns. And having a brain haemorrhage that coincided precisely with the beginning of my career and the beginning of a show that became something quite meaty, it gave me a perspective that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.” She pauses. “I’m quite a resilient human being, so a parent dying and brain haemorrhages coinciding with success and people following you in the street and getting stalkers – you’re just, like, ‘Well let’s try and make something sensible of it.’”

It was a decade that contained the very best and very worst of a life, and one of the sensible things she tried to make of it was the founding of a charity, SameYou, to provide treatment for people recovering from brain injuries and stroke. It was only in order to promote the charity that, eight years after her stroke, she finally decided to talk about it, in a piece for the New Yorker. “On the set, I didn’t miss a beat, but I struggled,” she wrote, of returning to Game of Thrones after brain surgery. “Season two would be my worst. I didn’t know what Daenerys was doing. If I am truly being honest, every minute of every day I thought I was going to die.”

It’s remarkable, considering her profile and her regular appearances in the Daily Mail in lovely dresses and grand smiles, that she managed to keep it secret for so long. She didn’t want to tell strangers, “Because it was mine.” She feared, too, that people would “sneer at it”.

It so happened that, the week before I went to meet her, I had a similar (though less dramatic) neurological diagnosis – when I tell her about it, for some reason my voice shakes. She is warm and quick with recommendations, and as she continues she says, “Well, you know, then. You know the worries. That people will think your soul, your movement, your voice, who you were,” was damaged. “It was nerve-racking to share it, to be honest. It always is, when you make yourself vulnerable.” She waited so long to talk about it, because, “I didn’t want people to think of me as… sick.”

There are still days on set when she will quietly pull aside the makeup person and say, “‘I think I’m having a brain haemorrhage. I’m not, I promise, but maybe just put me in a cold tent and we’ll sit down for a second, and I apologise in advance if I freak you out.’ Over the summer I was burning the candle at both ends, and I was with my mate on the plane. And I was like, ‘Dude, I feel really weird…’ But I was fine. It’s hard not to think the worst. It’s hard to think you’re overtired, or you’ve been on Instagram too long, and to realise these might have the same side-effects as something deadly. But the charity evolves with me. I use it. Here’s something else that I feel: maybe someone else feels the same way.”

She talks about the summer just gone with a regretful kind of wonder – it was th e summer after the Game of Thrones finale had divided fans, when she was coming to terms with how the “overwhelming” amount of nudity in the first season had affected her. And, after years of “filling every hiatus with a movie, shit, good or otherwise” (she starred opposite Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator Genisys, and as Qi’ra in Solo: a Star Wars Story) she had decided to take a break. Or, the decision was made for her.

“After we did the premiere for the last season, it felt suddenly like I lost all of the bones in my body. And I was in this puddle on the floor going, ‘Maybe this isn’t just the show.’ I’d never wanted to look around and see what we had, because I was convinced it was just going to blow up in our faces. And, well, at the end it kind of did. So I kept my head down. Then, after the premiere, I finally was able to stop, and that was difficult.” She travelled and went “raving with my mates, but that was not fulfilling. So, bloated and exhausted I went away for two weeks with my best girlfriend, [The Good Fight star] Rose Leslie, and it was in this retreat in India that I suddenly got it. This is what stopping feels like. And I was able to finally… be kind to myself.”

All this is recent. All this is really recent, with a new understanding of grief. Her beloved father, a theatre sound engineer, died of cancer in 2016. “The world felt like a scarier place once my dad wasn’t in it,” she said at the time. “There was the referendum, too,” she shudders. “It was the year of everything bad.”

But it was after her lost summer that, “I finally got this feeling. As if, on a cellular level, I’d grown up. And it’s so bittersweet, because I was clinging on to that childlike optimism. Then, when I finally let it go, I realised that was actually quite a heavy backpack to be wearing. I felt like that at the Emmys, too, finally popping my head up from the bunker. It’s as if you can see the actual landscape that you’ve been living in this entire time from another perspective.”

Occasionally she looks at me apologetically, her eyebrows like arrows, to check she’s not saying too much, and then she continues. “It can be perceived as such a feminine trait, can’t it – the responsibility to ‘put a smile on it’. And, and you feel like it’s a defeat if you give in and admit, ‘Maybe it’s not going to be OK in the end.’ But then, if you do, then you have an opportunity to go… ‘and what if that’s all right?’ Death is shit,” she says, dramatically. “It’s really hard and grief is horrific, and yet it is completely and utterly guaranteed. No matter how much Silicon Valley boys want to prove to everyone it’s not. But the finality of death, the absolute certainty of it, I’ve realised, is such a tonic.”

Along with a good stroke, I add the loss of a parent to her list of recommendations. “No! I’m not recommending it to anyone, obviously. But it is something real you can actually hold on to. We don’t look at grief properly. I’m not talking about the random moments of completely overwhelming emotion, I’m pretty in control of that… there was only one time on set where I just physically couldn’t stop crying. It’s the other stuff that we don’t discuss – the functional grief; when your worldview and your perspective on life and yourself changes irrevocably, forever.”

How is she dealing with that? “By realising that there is a framework that life lives within, and knowing when you reach the edges of it. There’s that. And I try to use the shit feelings as opposed to just ‘breathing through it’. It’s like putting my plastic in the recycling bin – it might not do anything, but I should at least try. And then being an actor and having a production company, knowing that the greater understanding I have about life, the greater storyteller I can be. As an actor, you’re always observing – no matter what trauma you’re going through, there’s a wee bit of your brain that’s like, ‘Isn’t this fascinating?’”

Every time I interview a famous person I leave feeling slightly high and slightly sad, because to enter their fabulous world also, inevitably, means you see the shadow of their cage. The imposed disconnect, for instance. And the constant smiling and the many locks. Clarke was catapulted to extreme fame during a period when she nearly lost her mind. She started to find gifts outside her door, from one of many stalkers. One, she says, is extremely unwell, another extremely mean. “The stalker stuff is just horrible because, as a single lady walking around town, I already feel like I’m being followed.”

These stalkers believe they’re having a relationship with her, “which is confusing, because having a relationship with people I don’t know is a big part of what I signed up for. I care about what art does to people. But it carries with it a responsibility, and when you leave your front door you take that with you. And it’s a difficult path to navigate. Because sometimes,” and she’s talking about fans now, the line between the two often being blurred, “you get grabbed physically and your instincts kick in. When you see shock being registered on someone else’s face, you’re like, ‘Where’s the danger?’ And then you realise, oh, it’s me – I’m the danger.”

Her fanbase is due to change shortly, as she maps out her career without dragons. Clarke’s new film is Last Christmas and is based on the Wham! song. While it is a box-office hit, reviews have been… mixed. “The kind of bad,” said Rolling Stone, “that falls somewhere between finding a lump of coal in your stocking and discovering one painfully lodged in your rectum.” It threatens to become a cult classic. Reader, I loved it.

Clarke plays a woman whose messy life, it becomes clear, is partly a result of recent illness. “I was able,” she says darkly, “to bring a lot to the role.” There is a romantic twist, a twist so gooey it may cause diabetes in vulnerable audiences, but there is a second twist, in that this film (co-written by Emma Thompson) could prove to be the most effective piece of anti-Brexit propaganda of the festive season. Clarke (with Thompson as her mother) plays the youngest of a family of first-generation immigrants, dealing with the fallout of the referendum.

“We filmed a scene of a hate crime,” Clarke says, a scene on a London bus where a couple are told to go back to where they came from. “And Emma said, ‘Come on, let’s be honest: haven’t we all witnessed something similar?’” She loved working on this film, in part because of the women in charge, “who recognised that we all had a life outside this movie. You don’t have to have a vagina to do that, but the difference lay in that slight… lack of patriarchy?” And in part because of the intersection between entertainment and what she describes as “meaning”. Something she continues to search for, albeit with regular disclaimers of privilege, and embarrassment.

“The world is scary at the moment, both politically and environmentally. You have politicians pushing people to the absolute limits of their left versus right parameters, and the middle ground that we were all living in before is now wasteland, because both sides are life or death. It feels so much more polarised and extreme than ever. You’ve got 33-year-olds like me asking, ‘Should I bring kids into this world? If I do, what will that kid feel like?’ It feels frightening, consistently. And I’m not alone. I’m leaning hard on Bake Off right now.”

But the fear has made her reassess her work, post-Game of Thrones. “Entertainment is about taking you outside of yourself for a second, which is largely what I think the success of Game of Thrones was. People wanted to see something familiar, but also have that level of separation, through dragons and magic. Escapism is what lots of people go to art for. So, if we can cherry-pick stories to tell people in a shitty time, I’d like to give them something really good. It could make them feel better, or less alone, or make them realise there’s something outside of their front door that they should care about.”

She takes a sharp breath. “You know, I spent a lot of time being like, ‘What I do is all bullshit. I’m completely selfish, a total narcissist.’ And then…” And then the world hit her at a great speed, and she emerged into this new adulthood, and 10 years crawled over her like glittering rats. “And then I realised what it was for. I help provide relief. And that’s worth something, especially now. Right?”

It takes a second before I realise she is waiting for an answer. “Right,” I say, reassuringly. “Right.”

Last Christmas is in cinemas nationwide now

Press: Emilia Clarke: ‘I didn’t want people to think of me as sick’ was originally published on Enchanting Emilia Clarke | Est 2012

#emilia clarke #game of thrones #game of thrones cast #GOT cast #daenerys targaryen #me before you #terminator

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