#i broke my wrist as a kid and it was left untreated and the only way we know it *was* probably broken

[tobiasfarnal]

Left Behind

Dymphna ran towards the cliffs pursued by the hulking orc and lumbering drunk human, she hurled her bleeding body down into the ocean, the only thought that escaped her was the hope that everyone else made it out alive.  She only knew those she’d seen step through (or were tossed into) Toby’s portal.

As the wind flew past her face, her now red hair billowed behind her as the water grew ever closer.

“I’m sorry Toby, I’m going to be missing our date” she thought, having no way of knowing that Toby laid unconscious and broken as she hit the surface; cold and shocking despite the warm air, her own world growing black as the waves enveloped her.

***

“What ya fishin’ up there Tigule?”

“Dunno, Foror...looks like a body.”

“Lots of bodies round here, why you pullin’ that one up?”

“Looks fresh, might still have stuff in its pockets, gonna check, then chuck it back” the goblin chuckled as he pulled Dyn up onto the skiff, looking down into her face, putting his ear over her mouth.  “Ey…EY! This one’s still breathin’” he panicked as he turned her over, smacking her on the back to get her to start coughing up the water she’d ingested.   “Get a bird out to the Speedbarge, this one needs a medic stat!”

Tigule raised an eyebrow at that, scratching inside of his big green ear, “Why you care, just a human...an a female.”

“Don’ let yer old lady know you said jus a female, she’ll smack youse upside one ways and down anotha. Sides, could be one of the fella’s up from the cliffs, they might pay well to get their people back”

“Ain’ onna the PMC people, she don’ look so dirty, could be new, they broke ‘er threw ‘er away. Look at those wounds.  Eitha way, lets get her to the medics, Fizzle should be able to speak Common to her to find out who she is, if she makes it” he grumbled sending a seagull off to fly to the Speedbarge before turning their skiff along behind it.

***

Toby didn't come to until the morning sun breaks and begins to cook him in his cage.  He blinks a couple of times, then moans with the pain of his shattered ribs, the orc's great maul having smashed into him once, twice.

He replayed the last nights' events over in his head, and looked around at the other cages.  No Iorune.  No Digglesdeep.  No Dyn. Did they escape?  Were they dead?  He'd no way to know.  

He sat back in the cage, unable to stand or lie down in the cramped confines, and tried to summon his magic to teleport out--but it didn’t come.  No magic surged through him, none of his arcane power.  He looked down at the manacles clapped across his wrists and sighs at their warding pattern.  No magic. No mage.  Just…Toby, here to get beaten by the bullies one, last time.

"Oy.  The pink one's awake," comes a call from the tower above him, and soon an orc and a troll in Bull's Horn colors approach the cage.

 "Hello, mage," said the orc in a nasty snarl, unlocking the cage.  "Time for us to talk."

Toby's eyes glazed, and he remembered the state of the Bull's Horn prisoners he'd helped save. He tried to swallow, but his throat was already dry and parched...not a good sign.  He closed his eyes, remembering an old technique.

Getting beaten was Toby's forte.  He'd spent his life growing up in the slums of Old Town, and the Alteraci-faced boy had been a common target for sport.  He'd learned, then, how not to be present in himself.  A part of him took the boot to the stomach, screaming and crying out, but the rest of him...simply watched the horror, looked on as though it were someone else's body, and not his.  In this way, he examined the pain clinically, disinterestedly, and even though he screamed and cried out it never affected that core part of his thoughts.

He hadn't known, then, how handy that skill would be, but he used it now.  The part of him that thought, that remembered, talked, laughed, and was human--that part of him simply looked on as the big orc pulled a hot iron from the fire.  That part of him watched the animal pieces of him in his body scream as his flesh burned, and that part of him spoke not a word about the Forty-Seventh and those few people who had risked themselves to bring these animals to justice.  He clinically noted the way his flesh reeked as is burned to a char, passively felt his voice crack when the screams ripped through his parched throat.

But he knew that, whatever the orc did to the flesh-lump that contained him, he'd already won.  So he sat, and he watched himself be tortured. Then he watched himself be thrown back in the cage, untreated, without food or water, into a pile of his filth and others.  He was dead, of course.  This was the end of Tobias Farnal.  But he'd always accepted that--always known that's where military service led.  And he'd end in pain and filth, unsung--but he'd end in victory, nonetheless.

Which explained the small smile that creeped across his face as the pain dragged him back down into unconsciousness.

***

“Hey kid, wake up” a gnome’s voice suddenly in her ears, cool hands gently shaking her awake.

Dymphna gasped, trying to jolt herself out of the cot but she seemed to be restrained.  Blinking in the dim light she tried to focus on the source of the voice. “W…where am I?” she asked quietly as she relaxed herself, knowing fighting would probably not be a good option at this point until she assessed her situation.

“Speedbarge, you’re safe for the moment” he smiled as he looked her over.  “You were in a pretty rough state there missy, little bit longer and you’d have been lost, oh dear yes.  Good thing I keep more than a few healers on the payroll, cause, you know, pirates” Fizzle sat back on his stool, giving her a warm smile.

“Why am I tied down then?” she asked quietly “May I have some water?”

The gnome motioned to one of his employees nearby who promptly brought her some water, but also checked her bonds.  “Safe side, really.  Cause, Pirates”

 Dyn chuckled at that and nodded her thanks to both of them.  “Makes sense, I’m no pirate, I assure you,” she said.  Her fingertips gently touched the edge of the bonds, but she still did not try them.

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t.  What’s your name kid?” he grinned at her.

“Regina,” she smiled back, relaxing once more, using the moniker she had assumed a few nights earlier. “Regina Cantswell”

“Well, Regina, how’d you end up in the deep?  You looked like you came out of the wrong end of a cat fight.”

Dyn knew whatever story she came up with, would be crucial to whether she would be released from the bonds.  “I was traveling from the Barrens, trying to visit a friend in Feralas, Quillboar shot down my griffon when I flew too low to avoid the thorns, it knocked me off and they started attacking me, I escaped, but, it was dark, I fell over the cliff into the canyon, I don’t remember much after that”  she sighed, faking a sad face  “I’m going to miss that griffon, raised her from a hatchling, I hope she made it out”

The gnome looked her over, seeming satisfied with that response, “Yeah, you’re lucky, don’t see many people fight with the Quillboar and win, you should be more careful” he smiled, releasing her bonds and patting her arm.  “My healers say you should be recovered in a day or so if they keep on you. Then we can get you a griffon back home. I wouldn’t linger too long though, there are some unsavory types around the Needles lately.  I’ll send you some food up in the meantime”

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled sweetly as the gnome shuffled out, his assistant following behind him. When the two were out of sight she rose, the pain of fighting a familiar memory after her many times during the campaign.   “Waking up in the infirmary again, Hempstead. Tinkertorch is right, as always,” she muttered to herself. “And yet, I still keep going” she grinned as she went to the porthole, assessing her situation. She could see the cliffs where the PMC Camp still stood. “At least I’m not too far away” she whispered under her breath looking towards the camp, plotting her next move.  

***

Toby's cracked lips managed a little smile as he watched the hurried movements of the PMC around him, unpacking and leaving.  He'd no clue where they were going, what was in their boxes, or how they were getting anywhere...but it was clear that the Bull's Horn was de-assing their base camp with the quickness, and that was all he could ask for.

They'd stopped torturing him, though Toby suspected that had more to do with their partial evacuation than any real change of heart.  He also suspected they had no need--the info had done its job, the regimental mission was complete, and these bastards already knew they'd been had.

 He had no illusions that he'd live.  That he'd be some prisoner in a camp for Alliance troops to rescue, like those poor bastards he'd helped pull out of the jungle.  He looked up as the sun beat down on him and squinted, then looked back at the scurry.  His legs cramped and bucked with dehydration and inability to stretch, and he barely paid attention to it.

It was strange, really. The torture had almost been preferable to this casual neglect he experienced now.  The torture, at the very least, was nteresting—if in a terrible way.  Now, he could but sit in this caged box, rotting in his own filth, and slowly bake to death--and be bored while doing it.  

He closed his eyes and began to run through mental drills, student exercises designed to prep the mind for wielding immense arcane magics.  Each breath came hot and dry through his parched throat, but he focused that mind of his.

He was going to die, slowly and painfully.  His energy drained, and the beginnings of a fever from infected wounds beginning. But he was bound and determined to die a mage, and not a gibbering Lunatic.  

Please, he thought. Light, please give me that much. I'm not going to die well...let me at least die me.

***

As the day faded into evening, Dyn played nice with the various healers that would come and visit, be they goblin or gnome. They brought her food, water, or offering healing when she needed. She smiled, played innocent, made herself out to only being a simple girl who ran afoul of the quillboars, nothing more.  As the night wore on, the barge grew rowdy with the various patrons of the bar either fighting, yelling, or just singing bawdy songs together.

The little gnome woman who had been watching after her allowed her to go downstairs for but a few moments to stretch her legs. She was just a human after all, one of many visitors to the barge stopping on their way to somewhere else. Using this opportunity, Dymphna was able to slip around, finding herself a few daggers, a couple skins of water, and, being a ship with both gnomish and goblin inhabitants, plenty of incendiary items for her to stash in a rucksack in her quarters, waiting for the right moment.

As the watch called midnight, the ship seemed to settle.  She pretended to be soundly sleeping as the nurse made her rounds, checking her vitals, giving her another dose of healing to her deeper wounds before calling it a night.  When the woman padded away, and the ship grew silent to all but the sound of the waves lapping at the sides of the barge, Dyn made her way out of her room, slipping past dozing guards to find a small rowboat.  Jumping inside, she waited for the sound of anyone coming behind her, yet nobody came.  "Good" she muttered before making her way back towards the cliffs.

***

The days had blurred together--had it been a week?  Two? Toby couldn't tell, and didn't care. Each day, each night, the same, sitting in his iron cage.  He could tell that his burns were festering, infected by the neglect of leaving him in his own waste, but there was naught to do about it.  The Bull's Hord paid little attention to him, now, leaving him in the cage without consideration as their skeletal crew finished packing whatever it was that needed packing.  Where they were headed, and in what form they'd next be seen, Toby didn't know and, idly, didn't care.

 He regretted not talking to his parents, the last couple of times there'd been leave.  Oh, he'd had letters, but he hadn't summoned the courage to actually go see them.  His mother would be heartbroken as he simply...disappeared from the earth. Rosa--he'd made a promise there, to the strange young worgen, and he wasn't going to keep it--one more person in her tally-book on that score.  And Dyn.

“You still have that date,” he heard her say.  Prior to the mission, their running promise throughout Friendly Neighbour.  He owed her a date, something nice.  Something private.  He remembered the weight of her head, leaning on his shoulder as the regiment sat around the table.  Yet another promise he wouldn't be able to keep.

For the hundredth time, he tried to find that well of magic within him, only to find the wards on his manacles blocking him from using it.  Not that he'd much strength left to use it with, anyways, but if he could only summon some water.  Just...just a drop or two of water for his paper-dry throat.  But he'd no chance of it, and no chance of life, and he leaned back in his crate and continued his long, slow wait for death.

***

When Dyn finally made it to shore after what felt like agonizing hours she began the ascent towards the cliffs, thankful she had chose a landing spot where she could stow the boat, as well as having a convenient path that ran towards the mountains. “Thank the Light for that” she smiled as she hefted the backpack over her shoulders.  Glancing up towards the sky she checked the position of the moon. “Few hours until daylight, gives me time to get in” she spoke to herself in the darkness as she made her way towards the base.

Remembering the layout of the camp she found her way around the wooden walls, beams not unlike what they had erected in and around Kingsland, yet, she could see the hustle of activity, people rushing from building to building, “What’s going on, I imagine” she smirked as she found a safe place to stash her pack in the dark. She quickly pulled her hair up into a fierce bun, pulled up her hood and found some dirt to rub on her face and neck, giving her somewhat of a more weathered look before she quickly moved to try to blend in with the various people moving about.

She grabbed boxes and bags from people, loading them into carts to be hauled down to the ships, noting somewhat what was inside, tools, ammunition, paperwork.  Most people barely speaking to each other, merely keeping to the task at hand, evacuation.  She looked around for signs of her companions, but thankfully, did not see any bodies, at least not out in the open.

“You there!”  a gruff Orc voice snarled towards her.  “Come here!”

She turned, biting her lip as she obeyed and moved towards the man she recognized as one of the ones she fled from mere nights prior.

“What are you doing? I don’t recognize you!”

“I’m new, Sir…. signed on a couple weeks ago…helping move stuff” she kept her face down, lifting her box up to show him as she motioned again to the path that lead to the dock.

 “Why haven’t I seen you before now?”

She shrugged, “New blood, I got latrine and cookhouse scullery duty, do you recognize every shit hauler?” she smirked, giving him a look.

The Orc laughed, then slapped her, “No insolence, grunt” he grinned as she reeled slightly, dropping her box.  “Now get that down to the shore and get on the boat with the rest of them, we’re almost done here, and stay where we can see you, no wandering, we’re almost free of this rock” he retorted, casting what was probably an unintentional sidelong glance towards the prison cells, where she had callously dispatched one if its inhabitants only nights prior.

“Yes Sir, of course Sir” she nodded and headed back down to the ship before slipping her way back up, this time moving towards the watch towers, carefully avoiding the pile of shit underneath as she moved towards the cages.

“GRUNTS, PEONS, ON THE BOATS!”  a harsh Kal’dorei voice yelled.  “UNESSENTIAL PERSONELL TO THE BOATS”.

As she moved towards her hiding spot behind some boulders, she watched the flood of bodies rushing down to the docks finally, leaving everything else behind, only a handful remaining as the boats pulled away, lingering around a campfire.

“Five….” She counted the remaining men, pondering why they just didn’t all evacuate at the same time. She pulled her spyglass out of her bag, surveying around the camp  then towards the cells before seeing a blonde lump, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she let out a soft exclamation  "Toby!"

She pulled herself back into hiding, into cover, while her mind raced.  He lived…and was a captive.  What had been a suicide mission to burn this place to the ground changed, suddenly, into a new set of objectives.  She looked at her bag of timed incendiaries and two daggers.  Would this be enough?  Could she pull it off?  She rolled back into position, deploying her spyglass and waiting for the chance to strike. A long while passed before it came, but came it did.  Narrowing her eyes, she watched the human soldier stumble behind the now-empty building, hands fumbling at the front of his trousers.

She slipped forward through the night and drew one of the knives she’d stolen from the barge from her boot. The man, inebriated and singing some slurred drinking song, lumbered against the building drunkenly, coating it with his urine, and never saw her coming before he slumped down onto the sands, his throat cut from end to end.

“Three, that’s good enough I suppose” she chuckled before opening the door of the building, placing a small bundle just inside the doorway, setting a timed charge.  “Gives me enough time to get away”

“Talon, Talon, what’s taking you so long?”

She froze as the Night Elf’s voice suddenly was heard coming closer.  Shit shit shit! she thought as she dove under the building.  

“Ey Talon! You fell down drunk again while pissing, damn human.” The man laughed slightly as he bent down to try to bring his friend up, only to come away with warm bloody hands.

 “What the…Talon…GU….” His cry out to his compatriots cut short as Dyn brought a rock down to the back of his head, the Kal’dorei falling like a lump over his friend.

“Well, that’s two” she sighed, backing away from the scene and rushing back to pick up her backpack, placing another timed explosive near one of the guard towers before moving off to the cages, the way now cleared to… No Toby.  Instead of the young, sandy-blonde mage, all she saw was an open cage and a set of drag marks.  

***

Toby barely registered the sound of the lock being opened.  "Alright, pinky," said the gruff, orcish voice he'd heard during his sessions with torture.  "You're with me."

The orc reached in and dragged him by the manacles out of the cage.  In his fugue of fever and dissociation, he felt the motion, registered the pain of it.  The orc tried to make him stand, but he'd no strength in his legs to hold his weight. Disease, starvation, dehydration, and trauma prevented him from the basic act of carrying his own weight.

"Damned weakling," his orcish captor muttered to himself, then simply began dragging the young mage over the sand.  "Higher-ups want you to die elsewhere, so we're going to take a little trip.  I voted for leaving you to rot, but you're lucky...I've been ordered to make sure."  He gave a low chuckle.  "Wasn't ordered to make it too quick, though," he says as he dragged Toby out of the compound and away from the final evacuation of the Bull's Horn PMC. Toby had no energy to fight, no ability to move himself--the end had finally come, and he could but wait patiently as his orcish executioner dragged him into the high desert in the moutains between Tanaris and the Thousand Needles...and to his final, unmarked resting place, wherever that would be.

He’d no clue how long it took before he felt his body flop onto the sand, the impact of it registering through his ravaged body.  He expected the orc's axe to follow shortly, but it didn't.  Instead, the Orc took a long draught off his canteen, polishing it off then chucking the empty container over his shoulder.

"None of this is personal, Pinky," the orc said.  "You folks worked us over, and good.  Whole PMC is disbanding, organization's filing for bankruptcy.  Us grunts are going to have to find a new place to sign on...though chances are we'll just re-form under a different name, transfer our contracts, and go on with our lives.  Heard you're the one that got your people free."

The big orc pulled his axe free, and began sharpening it with his whetstone.  "But word has to get around.  You screwed us, and there's got to be a price to that.  I'm not gonna tell you I'm sorry for this, because I'm not sorry at all.  But I want you to know...still respect you, warrior that you are."

With that, the orc raised his axe above his head, aiming first at Toby's legs.  "Doesn't mean this isn't going to be painful."

***

Dymphna followed the pair through the desert, her leather booted feet silent. The Orc seeming to not know or even fathom that anyone could be following him. As she watched him unceremoniously plop Toby down and draw his axe, she felt a cold rush over her, a focus she had rarely felt before.  This was her friend, someone she cared deeply for, to see him bloody and broken, she knew what had to be done.

But how?  She’d faced Orcs all her life, from the Blackrock who would perpetually raid the family farm, to most recently against the PMC. Their hubris was their weakness, she knew this; the thought that they could not be bested. She had to resort to thought and motion together to be able to at least get him to focus on her and move away from Toby, especially with the sound of the whetstone grinding against the axe.

Drawing up everything inside of her she took a step towards the Orc, “Now or never” she thought, knowing that things needed to happen quickly to change his focus before he brought that axe down.  “Hey!” she yelled.

“OH my god, another person, Oh...you’re an Orc…do you even speak common? I’m so lost” she sighed, once again giving him the appearance of a damsel in distress. “WHERE……IS……HERE?......”  she gesticulated wildly, pretending not to notice the lump before him in the lightning darkness of the dunes.

The orc looked up briefly, then his axe flashed down, neatly cleaving through Toby’s tibia and fibia and severing the young mage's foot and ankle cleanly from his body.  His back arched with the sudden, new pain, and his parched throat opened in a scream he could not voice--and then slumped, fainting from the pain, his blood leaking onto the sand of the desert below him.

Dyn gasped at the sight of Toby’s foot, then swallowed—she’d a wall that needed to be taken down first, and she told herself she’d die trying.

The unnamed orcish grunt raises his Axe from his bloody work and looks back to Dyn.  "Brave of you, coming back for him like this," he said, gesturing at the mage now bleeding out into the sand.  "We've got descriptions of all of you that fled, lass--you're the one that jumped the cliff.  I had two gold riding with Duffy that you hadn't made it--looks like I owe him. And looks like I'm killing two little mice out here, instead of one."

Dyn cocked her head to the side and smirked, letting the wild feeling of combat wash fear from her. “Good,” she said in a clear, cool voice. “I was never good at the pretext anyways. Maybe I can save you the gold by killing you”

Drawing her daggers once more she dug her ankles into the sand before leaping towards the Orc, aiming to get to get blades into him before he could swing that massive axe into her once more.

Her foe eased back into his stance, waiting, and as Dyn rushed him he timed it perfectly, pivoting away from her charge.  He was too close to get a swing with his axe, but her momentum carries her past him, and as it does he brings his knee up into her gut, knocking the wind from her. The woman coughed, trying to recover, as the big axe swung it in a screaming arc downwards toward her head.

Dym tried to step to the side, and managed to avoid taking a lethal blow to her head. But she didn’t avoid the axe entirely, and her shoulder and back erupted in pain as the axe sank in deep.  Fighting through the pain, she reached down and grabbed the sand, red with sprays of her own blood as she threw it into his face.  

Her orcish opponent stepped back, blinking, trying to clear his eyes as Dym drove hard at his side with a dagger.  At the last moment, he twisted a bit, stepping back; Dyn's dagger bit into flesh, then pulled out quickly.  Blood flew from the orc's side, but he stayed on his feet and chuckled as he looked at Dyn, panting and bleeding.

"Was telling Pinky, here," he said, gesturing to Toby.  "Nothing personal in any of this--got a lot of respect for the both of you. Warriors. Killin' you's an honor."  He nodded to her in a little salute, then took a step toward her, his axe in motion, ready to deliver the killing blow at last.

Dym grimaced, the pain in her shoulder beginning to sap her strength.  The Orc before her became the embodiment of everything that had happened in these past months, the snipers, the bombings, the camp full of the dead and the dying, Nyla, Novo, everything.  Her own wounds cried out for vengeance as she fixated upon her foe, but she knew he had the advantage.  Less wounded. Well fed.  Longer-ranged weapon.  Better armor.  More training.  She raised her dagger, ready to fight to the death…but she grasped no illusions as to her chance of success.

And that's when the explosions began.

It started with a single blast, but two more follow in quick succession, and the pre-dawn light flares with orange fire as Dyn's incendiaries detonate within the camp. The orc reacted in a basic, completely instinctive manner by stopping his step and turning his head.  His voice came out low and curious as he watches the flames licking at the dry wood of the PMC's building.

"What the--"

Dym launched herself in a white hot rage at him once more, blood pouring out of her shoulder as she plunged her dagger deep into the Orc’s throat, sawing at it to be sure the artery was cut, never for him to hurt another person again.

The Orc tried to fight, but it didn’t last long as he fell, nearly toppling over onto her as she drew away, unsteady as she turned to look at the base, slowly becoming engulfed. "I'm no mouse you piece of shit, I'm a Lion" She turned and bolted towards Toby, her hands cradling his as she sobbed, holding him close.

“Toby…can you hear me?” she looked towards his severed foot, rushing to grab something, anything, to stop the bleeding. Rummaging through her pack she found some cloth where she could tie a tourniquet.  “We need to get out of here” she whispered, ignoring her own wounds for now, sights focused only on him.

"B-Brooks?" he murmered in a cracked voice barely above a whisper, then leans his head back struggling to swallow. "How...where..."

She almost laughed at the absurdity, remembering her dyed-dark hair as she tied off the tourniquet.  She saw his chapped lips and mouth, rushing back to her pack to get the waterskin, lightly wetting his lips, not wanting to give him too much too soon. "Shh...no, its me, Dyn.....I'm here....we need to get out of here."

"Dyn?" he asked, his voice a bit restored from the gulp of water. "You're...you're alive," he says, and a small smile crept up his face.  "But leave…no.  Can't. No leg," he says.  "No magic," he adds, then wiggles the manacles at her, indicating them.  He leans his head back on the pillowing sand for a moment.

"For now" she replied as she looked back towards the camp, not seeing any figures heading their direction. She gave him a bit more water to drink before searching over the corpse of her fallen foe, finding a small ring of keys.

"We're going to get out of here, and Brooks, Brightmaul..someone is going to put your foot back,"  she said, her voice far more confident than she felt.  But the key turned smoothly, and a moment later the lock popped off.

Toby closed his eyes as the manacles fell from his wrist.  The pain of his fever-ridden body, slipping into shock from the trauma of losing his leg, racked with burn scars and disease, faded as he reached for his power.

He felt that arcane torrent, and coughed as he mustered what little reserves he has left. "Can't...hold this...long..." he says, and a portal began to form.  It flickered and flashed as he struggled to hold it, and

Dym couldn’t help but remember his warnings about the risks of using a portal in an altered mental state. She also remembered that he'd managed to pull it off once.  Toby's eyes began to flicker, and she knew the effort this cost him, this one, last-ditch attempt to go home.  She knew she had but a moment’s chance. She grabbed his foot, wrapping it loosely and putting it into her backpack, slipping it in front of her.  

"Ok Corporal" she grunted, her own energy fading just as quickly, "We're going through this together, right?"  She bends down, lifting his body, the dehydration and malnutrition making him somewhat easy to lift for the girl who was used to lifting livestock and pulling drunk farmhands around. She didn't know where the portal led, only that it wasn't here as she jumped through, both of them together, like they did on that first fateful night where they met.

#wra rp #WrA Alliance #wra roleplay #fortyseventh #wow rp character blogs #wow rp #wyrmrest alliance

[mamabearcat]

Fairytail Cafe - Part Two

Sorry for the delay. I was having real trouble with this, until I realised that this needs to be longer than a two part story. It will be three, maybe four. I just can’t rush them, okay? I hope you enjoy it. If you haven’t read it, here’s a link to Part One.

Natsu hugged her on the sofa for half an hour, purring to her and stroking her hair until her heart beat calmed, and the scent of fear had left her. With a deep sigh, she got up and went into the bathroom to have a shower. He’d been happily raiding her fridge, sniffing at some questionable looking ham and wondering if it was worth the risk, when he’d heard the first hiss and whimper. 

“Lucy? Are you okay?” His hand went to the bathroom door, ready to slide it open to check on her. 

Her frantic cry of “Don’t come in!”, had him anxiously pausing. Normally he would just barge in, but after today… He knew he was second guessing everything he did, because he wanted to care for her like a mate would – obliterate the bastard that had frightened her, soothe her hurts, calm her fears, but he hadn’t even told her how he felt about her, and now was definitely not the time. He swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“Just tell me what’s wrong, Luce” he said, his fingers still curled tensely around the edge of the painted wood of the sliding door. 

“I… I’m okay. I just forgot about the coffee, and the warm water is stinging my legs a little. Please just… could you go get my pyjamas, they’re under the pillow on my bed.” 

He felt his anger rising all over again, like bile in the back of his throat, but swallowed it back down, going over to her bed to retrieve the neatly folded sleep shorts and singlet from under her pillow. He picked the pillow up for a moment, scenting her usual calming fragrance, breathing it in like a balm to his heated anger and sighing as he exhaled. He was furious at himself for forgetting that prick had splashed hot coffee on her, especially as burns got worse the longer they were left untreated, and the rage he had felt at the café was still swirling with nowhere outlet. 

Even though it was hard, he had to push the anger down and keep a level head. Lucy had a lot more experience at this, being the person who cared and comforted, he was more about action, but that wasn’t what she needed right now. He could do this. He would concentrate on caring for her, trying to make her feel better, and hope he didn’t fuck it up by saying the wrong things. 

He walked over to her chest of drawers and retrieved a clean pair of panties for her and walked back over to the bathroom to wait. The sound of running water stopped, and he rapped his knuckles on the door, before sliding it open just enough to thrust his arm through holding the clean clothes. 

“You’re gonna let me check those burns, right?” he asked, as the pyjamas and panties were taken out of his hands. 

“Yeah, okay”, he heard Lucy sigh. He stayed by the door, listening as she towelled herself dry and got dressed, gritting his teeth as he heard a catch in her breath a few times. 

The door slid back, and Lucy squeaked as she nearly walked into him, but his gaze had immediately dropped to her lower thighs where the coffee stains on her stockings had been, and he growled at the reddened skin, peppered with tiny blisters, and the dark oval bruises higher up on her leg, like fingerprints too persistent to be washed away. 

“Lucy, go sit down. I’ll get the first aid kit.” He waited for the usual rebuff, that she could look after herself, thank you very much, but she meekly went to sit down on the sofa, her head lowered. 

When he returned with the first aid kit, she was sitting very still, feet flat on the floor, back hunched, her face buried in a cushion that she hugged to herself tightly. He could only just make out her muffled words. 

“I thought… I thought after a shower, I’d feel better. But I can still feel them on me. His… hands.” 

Natsu gulped, looking at her helplessly. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all. He didn’t know what to do, what the right thing to say would be, he was fucking terrible with words. He wanted to hug her again, but he didn’t want to do anything that would upset her more. He knelt on the floor in front of her, putting the first aid kit down, reaching his hand out to touch her knee, then drawing it back uncertainly. 

“Luce, you know I’m happy to listen to anything you wanna talk about, but did you want me to get someone else? Levy maybe, or Mira?” He rubbed his palms anxiously on his thighs, the fabric of his trousers creasing under his heated grip. “I just… I wanna help, I’d do anything to make you feel better, but I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I should do. What would make you feel better?” 

Lucy chuckled into the pillow, but it sounded a little more like a sob. “I don’t know. When I saw the burns and the br…” her voice broke a little over the word, “uises, I…” She lowered the pillow enough to look into Natsu’s anxious eyes. “I want you to stay Natsu. I feel safe with you. I always feel safe with you.” 

His heart swelled a little at her trust in him, but that still didn’t help his anxiety about doing or saying the wrong thing. He sighed and nodded. “I’m gonna have to touch you to put a dressing on those burns Lucy. Is that okay?” 

She nodded, putting the sofa cushion aside. She prodded his leg with her foot. “Natsu, I’m still me. What’s with the kid glove treatment, huh?” 

Natsu looked at her seriously, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs. “That bastard frightened you. I don’t wanna frighten you, ever.” 

Lucy gave him a watery half smile. “Since when have I been frightened of you, big bad dragonslayer? Do your worst, hot shot.” 

Natsu smiled back. He rummaged around in the first aid kit, disrupting its usual order, then fished out a tube of antibacterial cream. He gently started dabbing cream on the burns, where she had been splashed from the hot coffee in spots from her knees to mid-thigh, being careful of the blisters. 

“I dunno Lucy”, he said, looking at them with concern, “I think maybe Wendy should take a look at these.” He definitely wasn’t an expert in first aid, and he never got burned, so he was unsure if he was treating them correctly or how bad they were. Her skin still felt warm, and blisters meant they were bad, didn’t it? 

“Let’s just put a dressing on them for now, please Natsu. I don’t think they’re too bad.” He looked up into her eyes and she gave him a small smile. “Wendy’s not feeling well, and it’s not like they’re life threatening or anything.” 

He sighed again, but did as she asked, carefully placing a loose dressing on top of each of the burns and wrapping a bandage around each leg to keep them in place. 

He reached for the small white jar of arnica cream and dabbed it as softly as he could on the darkening bruises on her upper arm, muscles twitching in his jaw as he clenched his teeth, then moved on to the ones on her upper thigh. After he’d dabbed at those, Lucy grabbed his wrist. 

“I… I’ll do the rest, o-okay”, she said, her voice shaky. 

Natsu looked up at her in surprise. “The rest?” he questioned, then looked back down at her leg, trying to see what he might have missed. 

And then he noticed, peeking out from just underneath the hem of her tiny sleep shorts, more bruising fingerprints on her inner thigh disappearing up towards the fabric covered area of her crotch. 

His eyes shot to hers, and she gamely tried to give him another watery half smile. But then her lips compressed, and the corners of her mouth turned down, her bottom lip trembling. 

Natsu slumped back a little. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He had hoped desperately, that perhaps Loke was being his usual flamboyant self, and was over dramatizing the situation, but here was the proof. That fucking bastard. 

“Lucy”, he said brokenly, his own eyes filling with tears, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Me too”, she whispered. “I had always hoped…” Her eyes shut, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She pushed at it with the heel of her hand, wiping it away with much more force than necessary. Then her other hand rubbed at another tear, and soon she was scrubbing at her face furiously, almost like she was trying to wipe away her own expression. 

Natsu blinked his own tears away and pulled her hands away from her face, cocooning them between his own warm palms. 

“Hey”, he said gently. “Be careful.” 

She turned her eyes towards the floor, tears dripping down her cheeks. “I just feel so ashamed.” 

She startled, her eyes widening as she heard Natsu’s low rumbling growl, a sharp contrast to his previous soft tone. “Don’t”, he said roughly. “Don’t say that. Don’t…” He let go of her hands, letting them drop into her lap and leaned forward to cup her cheeks with his palms, his dark green eyes pinning hers. 

“You are Lucy Heartfilia, a Fairytail mage. The strongest celestial mage that I have ever seen”, he rumbled, his voice quiet but firm. “You are courageous, bold and kind, and always ready to step in and help those who need it. A force to be reckoned with.” 

His voice softened, and he stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. “You are… beautiful… inside and out. You walk tall, Lucy. You show that bastard that he can’t break you. You are better than him. He’s nothing but scum on the heel of your boot. You shine so bright sometimes that I…” He swallowed, his voice suddenly gravelly, and dropped his hands away from her cheeks. “I mean, there is no reason for shame, none at all.” 

Lucy sobbed, but did her best to smile through her tears. He had a sudden memory of last time he had seen her face like this, after her loss to Flare Corona when she had cheated at the Grand Magic Games; had smiled at him through her sobs and said, “I’m all fired up”. She hiccuped a little. 

“Can I be strong tomorrow?” 

“Idiot. You’re already strong. You always are. But when you need to, you lean on me okay?” 

“Okay.” She sniffed, and then he backed away, making space between the on the sofa so she could lean down and pluck a couple of tissues from the box on the coffee table. She blew her nose loudly, and he grinned at her. Since he had finally admitted to himself how much he loved her, he often felt in awe of how beautiful she was, and then she would do things like that, and remind him that she was still his loud and not particularly graceful best friend Lucy. 

He watched her blow her nose, hands twitching, one leg bouncing. He knew he had to do something. All these feelings, rage, sadness, empathy and love, were swirling together in his chest like an explosive cocktail, and he wasn’t sure what would happen if they didn’t get released soon. A sudden thought, a way that he could run and let off steam and still take care of Lucy had him smiling. 

“How about I go get us something to eat, Lucy? There’s not much in your fridge.” 

Lucy scowled at him, teary chocolate brown eyes glowering over the top of the tissue. “Yeah, I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“Sorry”, said Natsu with a grin, bouncing to his feet and not looking sorry at all. “I’ll get you some of that chicken you like. My treat. I’ll be fast okay?” 

“Alright”, said Lucy, clutching the used tissue in one hand and rubbing her forearm with the other, still sniffling a little. “You promise you won’t be long?” 

“Promise”, he said, jogging over to the window. He paused, balanced in a crouch on the windowsill, and turned to gift her an encouraging grin, then dropped to the ground, running as if his life depended on it.   

Twenty minutes later, and he was back, two bags of steaming takeaway clutched in one hand, the mixed aromas making his stomach growl audibly. He easily made the jump up to the windowsill, but the window was shut and locked. He peered in, cupping one hand around his eyes, trying to see where Lucy was. He finally spotted her pacing backwards and forwards in the kitchen, her keys clutched in her white knuckled hand. He tapped on the glass and she jumped, nearly dropping her keys, and quickly came over to the window to unlock it. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, dropping in through the window. “The window was locked.” 

“Yep, just peachy”, she smiled, but it was another of those empty false smiles that Natsu had become all too familiar with this week. He hated them. 

He put the bags down on the table and eyed her carefully. 

“Okay Luce, spill. What’s going on in that weird head a yours?” 

“Well”, she began, twisting her keys in her hands, “I was just thinking. I don’t know much about that guy, but he seemed fairly high powered. Expensive suit, lots of rings, real gold – one of them had a seal on it, so he’s probably old money, like the people my father used to mix with.” 

She started pacing backwards and forwards in front of Natsu. “Those sorts of people, they don’t take no for an answer. What if he goes after Erza, after she embarrassed him in front of all those people at the cafe? What if he goes after the guild to take revenge? What if… what if he comes here?” 

Her eyes widened, and she clasped her arms around her body, hugging herself tightly. “I mean it’s pretty easy to find out where I live right? It’s not like I make a secret of it.” She began breathing faster, as her voice sped up and rose in pitch. “Anyone could follow me and know exactly where this apartment is. For all I know he already does know. And he’d probably send someone, a mage, maybe more than one. Those sorts of people don’t do their own dirty work. It could be Phantom Lord all over again and it would be all my…” 

Natsu placed his hand over her mouth, stopping the torrent of words. He could hear her heart rate accelerating, anxiety pouring off her like a shaken, gushing bottle of fizzy drink that Mira served at the guild.   

“Lucy, breathe.” He took his hand away and said gently, “That’s a lotta thinkin’ for the short time I was gone.” 

Lucy chuckled without humour. “Well, you know, overly dramatic Lucy, that’s me.” She bit her lip, worrying the soft flesh with her teeth. 

Natsu placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her backwards until she was in front of the sofa, then pushed downwards with gentle but firm pressure until she dropped onto the cushions. 

“Time to eat”, he said firmly. “Talking after.” He went to the kitchen and got two glasses of water, then pushed a container of chicken and vegetable stir fry with paper napkins and bamboo chopsticks towards her. “Eat Luce.” He piled the other boxes up in front of himself, and began to attack them methodically, eating through each one without stopping. 

It was only when he’d got three quarters of the way through the pile of food in front of him that he noticed that Lucy wasn’t actually eating, just moving the food around with the chopsticks listlessly. She tried to hide a yawn behind the back of her hand, but it was easy to see how exhausted she was. 

“You want me to put that in the fridge for you to finish tomorrow Luce?” 

Lucy sighed. “I’m sorry Natsu, I really am. I appreciate you going to get this for me, but I’m just not hungry at the moment.” She put the chopsticks down on the table and rubbed her eyes. 

Natsu started packing up all the food, putting lids on the containers. 

“Hey, you don’t have to stop eating just because I’m not”, she began. 

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll save it for tomorrow. You look like you’re ready to crash Luce. Maybe you should go to bed.” 

He picked up the containers and carried them into the kitchen, opening the fridge door and shoving them in haphazardly. When he closed it, Lucy was standing there, looking at him anxiously. 

“You’re not going to leave, are you Natsu?” she asked, twisting her fingers together. 

He smiled at her cheerfully, even though it hurt him to see the anxious expression on her face. He would do anything to wipe it away. 

“Not if you want me to stay. Happy will probably come looking for me soon though. Is it okay if he stays too? Him an’ me could camp out on the sofa and…” 

“Would it be weird…” 

“I expect weirdness from you, ya weirdo!” he grinned, and then he chuckled when she made a “hmmph” noise and punched him in the arm. 

“Rude!” Her bottom lip jutted out in an adorable pout. “What I was going to say, before I was interrupted, was… could… could you… um…” 

“Hey, just spit it out Lucy, I’m not gettin’ any younger over here!” 

“Forget it”, she grunted, and turned to stomp away, but he caught her by the arm. 

“I’m sorry, I was just tryin’ ta cheer ya up. Please, I’ll be good.” 

She looked at him uncertainly. “I’m just feeling a little…” She clenched one hand into a fist and pushed it against her heart. “I can’t… I’m so tired, but my thoughts… could you maybe lay next to me while I go to sleep and do that purring thing again?” The last part came out in a rush, as her cheeks flushed red, and she looked away from him. “I was frightened before, and it helped.” 

Natsu’s cheeks flushed also, but he smiled, hiding how fast his own heart was beating, how much her request had affected him. “Gladly, Luce.” 

He followed her across to the bed, and she slid underneath the covers. 

“Is it okay if I leave the window open for Happy? I don’t want him ta wake ya up tappin’ on the glass.” Lucy’s eyes widened, and he added, “I’ll stay right next to the window okay? Nothin’s gonna get past me Lucy, I promise.” 

She nodded, and lay down on her side facing him, her head resting on the pillow, golden locks bright against the white fabric. Natsu slid the window open just enough for Happy to be able to squeeze in. 

He kicked off his shoes and took off his scarf, vest and socks, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor, and lay down next to her on top of the covers, their heads sharing the pillow. 

He looked into her dark eyes and she smiled, the first real smile he’d seen for a while. She scooted over towards him, tucking herself in tightly against his warmth, which immediately triggered a rumbling vibration in his chest. After a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped her up in his strong arms, tucking her head under his chin, his purr sending both of them off to sleep. 

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

 Natsu watched as Lucy emerged from the bathroom dressed for work, her face determined. She was wearing some of her own clothes, black ballet flats and full-length opaque stockings, a circle skirt that came down just past mid-thigh, and a white button-down shirt with a lace trimmed collar and elbow length sleeves. She tugged on one golden pigtail, tightening it, and made sure the white maid’s cap was secured in her hair. 

“Are you sure you want to go into work today Lucy?” he asked carefully. She had slept restlessly and she still looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes were hidden by makeup, but he knew they were there. Happy hadn’t turned up during the night, but he wasn’t overly concerned, thinking he’d probably stayed with Erza or gone to Wendy’s. Happy might still be young in some ways, but he was an exceed, and like the cats he resembled, he always found a soft place to land on his feet. 

A sudden knock on the door had them both tensing. 

“Relax Luce”, said Natsu, trying to quell the anxiety he could feel coming from her direction, “I doubt a mob of attackers is gonna turn up and knock on the door.” 

“How do you know?” muttered Lucy, but she stayed behind him as he walked over to answer it, her keys clenched in her fist at the ready. 

Natsu swung the door open, and was surprised to see Erza, Gray, Wendy, Charle and Happy there. 

“Hi”, chirped Wendy, waving a little, Charle and Happy perched on each shoulder. 

“Good morning”, said Erza pleasantly. “I’m glad to see you are both up and looking ready for work.” 

“At least Lucy does”, sneered Gray, “Flamedork here looks like he slept in his uniform.” 

“Oi, can it, ice prick”, retorted Natsu, heating his palms and running them quickly over his vest, shirt and pants, getting rid of most of the creases. 

“Why are you guys here so early?” asked Lucy a little uncertainly. It was still a little over an hour before they needed to start work, and it was only a ten-minute walk from her place. After their first day, they’d agreed to meet at the café fifteen minutes before their shared shift began, rather than meeting at the guild and going together. 

“I thought it might be pleasant to get something to eat together at the café as a late breakfast before we started our shift”, answered Erza. 

Happy sniggered behind his hand. “Yeah, Erza doesn’t think she’ll be able to manage a whole shift without eating cheesecake first.” He squawked a little and flew out of range as Erza’s fist shot out. Charle groaned and the others grinned at Happy’s reckless quip, everyone except Lucy. 

Natsu watched as she bit her bottom lip a little before answering hesitantly. 

“Oh. Um, okay.” 

Natsu kept a worried eye on Lucy as they walked towards the cafe. She still looked tense and kept continually tugging at the hem of her skirt, as if trying to make it longer, and she kept glancing behind them nervously. This behaviour really wasn’t like her, and he felt on edge, and ready to punch something. 

Her legs were still bandaged under her opaque stockings. Some of the blisters had burst overnight, and she had let him apply some more cream to them before putting on clean dressings. The bruise on her upper arm had turned a deep ugly purple, a hand print clearly evident. He hadn’t even realised he’d been growling as he brushed over her skin with the arnica until Lucy had touched his face. He’d swallowed it down, trying to stay silent until she headed into the bathroom to get dressed. 

As they got closer to the café, Natsu could hear Lucy’s heartbeat accelerating. He reached out as nonchalantly as he could and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers, pushing a little warmth into his hand, and rumbled a small purr, as loudly as he dared. He saw Happy look back to them as he heard it, a teasing look on his face, ready to say his usual catchphrase no doubt, but stopped when Natsu shook his head brusquely. 

He leaned in close, saying softly, “Ya know Luce, no one would think less of ya if you needed one more day off. I could take you back home…” her hand clenched his, and he quickly changed tack, “or you could wait for me in the kitchen out back, and I could check in with you when I’m on my break.” 

Lucy shook her head. “No”, she said determinedly. “I’m better than him, remember. I can’t let him win. And if I can’t go back in today, he wins.” Natsu was about to say that it didn’t mean anything of the sort, but the soft look she gave him stopped him in his tracks. 

“You give me courage, do you know that Natsu? Sometimes I’m not very brave. When we’re fighting, sometimes my hand shakes, even with all the help I have from my spirits. But seeing you there, fighting alongside me, makes me brave.” 

Natsu snorted. “Luce, feeling afraid when you’re fighting doesn’t mean that your not brave, it means that your smart. Just ‘cause I throw myself at things like a dumbass doesn’t mean I’m brave.” 

He took in a deep breath and squeezed her hand, entwining their fingers. “I want… I want to protect you, always. And knowin’ you’re there with me makes me fight that much harder.” They gazed at each other, each holding their breath, afraid to spoil the moment. 

“Oi, hurry up you two.” 

They looked up to see the others waiting for them at the café, Gray calling out to them through cupped hands, and they let go of each other’s hands awkwardly and sped up their steps, both blushing a little. By the time they got to the door, the rest of their team had already headed inside to see if Mira could find them a table. 

Lucy paused at the entrance, her fists clenched. She tugged at her skirt again, then took a deep breath and stepped in, walking over towards the rest of the team.

“That’s my girl, Luce”, said Natsu under his breath, a proud smile splitting his face. He watched the determined swing of her hips, and the defiant tilt of her chin. “Look at you shine, baby girl. Shinin’ like the star you are.”

#fairytail fanfiction #fairytail #fairytail cafe #nalu #natsu x lucy #bearpluscat writes

[thechampagnecircus]

My Frenemy the Dentist

The dentist. The dreaded place feared by adults and kids alike. I have always felt somewhat bad for dentists. They are up there with the IRS and DMV, people avoiding them like the plague. If it weren't for all the money they were able to charge, I’d truly lament for them. But after a Periodontitis diagnosis eight years ago the dental office has become a frequented place for me. If you are lucky enough to not know what that is, I will give you a quick download. Periodontitis is advanced gum disease.  We have all heard of Gingivitis from toothpaste and mouthwash ads. Used to invoke fear in us as kids to not miss a night’s brushing. This is basically that left untreated. It is unclear as to its main cause, but a mix of lifestyle choices, genetics, and abstaining from regular dental visits seem to be part of the recipe.  

At this point, when it comes to dental procedures, you name it, I have had it. Root canals are child’s play. I have had deep scaling treatments, bone grafts, crowns, laser therapy, all the things. I feel blessed to get the care that I need and I have come to peace with the fact this is something I will battle for the rest of my days. Periodontal Disease is incurable but maintainable. It is given me a soap box to preach to all my little nieces and nephews. Make sure to floss, or you’ll end up like Auntie Carly. Having said all that, I still get nervous going in for even routine appointments.  

About four or five years ago, due to my gum recession, my hygiene appointments started becoming painful. The normal anxiety and discomfort had evolved into a bigger beast than I could handle. They had to freeze all the areas in order to clean them properly. Therefore we broke it up into two appointments. My anxiety got so high and tense that it was hard for the freezing to take. Even Novocaine couldn't get through the stiffness my anxiety caused. The bottom left section of my mouth was the worst and lots of trial and error took place.  Enough was enough and I decided to look into sedation dentistry. I spoke to my hygienist and dentist and we all agreed I was a good candidate.  Like all things, I was scared to take medication and didn’t know what to expect. Nothing could be worse than my current situation so I gave in and never looked back.  

It is now 2021, a normal Sunday night and I review my calendar and to-do list for the week.  There it is, glaring at me. A dental appointment on Wednesday. Has it really been 4 months? As I think this to myself, a tingling of anxiety sets into my stomach, churning its contents like a washing machine mid cycle. Within a moment or two, along comes a deep breath of acceptance and I continue on with my night. Before I know it, it is Tuesday afternoon and I get the confirmation call from the office. There is no postponing it now. I have been there countless times and it’s only a cleaning. Relax. As I fall asleep that evening, I will myself into dreamy compliance.

My eyes open gently, the thickness of our blinds shrouds me in darkness although the sun has been up for hours. I flick my wrist over to see my watch which reads 8:30 am. I’ve slept through the night, without waking up to go pee; a small miracle. I’m over 30, it’s just the new normal. Having somehow had a great night sleep I feel rested and bright until I remember it’s a dental day. I sit up in bed, opening my eyes wider and giving them a little rub. Everyone else is already up and at em’, the kids at work, and the dog downstairs with my husband who’s working at his desk. 

I get up, open the blinds and absorb the light. The sun pours into the room like water gushing from a freshly broken dam. I walk into our master bathroom, its marble tiles cold on my feet. My hair is a tangled mess of crumpled curls, half of which managed to stay in a matted bun. I attempt to swallow my nervousness and begin my normal morning ritual. This consists of brushing my teeth, Listerine rinse, followed by washing my face and applying Ponds face cream. It’s the same lotion I have been using since I was a kid.  If they ever stop selling it, I’d be in for a rude awakening.

I look at the time and it’s now 9 am. Time to take my pre-dentist sedative. Something to settle the nerves. It sits under my tongue, dissolving into a calming serum that eases my mind. I get dressed; leggings, a tank top covered by a big comfy hoodie. It is leopard print with the BRUNETTE label splayed across my chest. Every girl needs a little flare, even if it is to get her teeth cleaned. I head downstairs, and my husband is all ready to go. I obviously can’t drive myself having taken an Ativan, so we hop in the vehicle and head out.

On the drive there, I slowly start to feel the drugs kicking in. My stomach flips a bit, while my insides melt into velvet.  I feel alert yet washed over with serenity. Before I know it, we are pulling into the parking lot, as though we teleported. Aaron starts griping about how busy this parking lot always is. There is an adjacent Lab Services building, along with a few other medical offices, so he is not wrong in his observation. Plus we are tad behind which adds to his agitation.  We finally find a parking spot and head upstairs. We are a few minutes late but are greeted with kind sentiments by the receptionist and hygienist. I have had so many things done here, I feel as though I am a regular and they all know my name. Like Cheers, but not nearly as fun. I tell Aaron I love him and will see him later as I follow her into my designated room.  

The dental chair is there, taunting me. It tries to promise comfort but I know what it holds. I set my purse on one of the countertops and take off my mask. I sit back in the chair, my leg shaking, the anxiety that is stifled somewhat by the meds coming to the surface. My hygienist and I exchange a few pleasantries, before she tilts the chair back into the final position. She then gives me a pair of the classic dentist sunglasses, watch out Vogue. My face is angled up toward the obligatory hanging television. It is always on HGTV. Perhaps there is something subconsciously soothing about quirky couples renovating people’s homes. I don’t really get it. But I have downloaded some media onto my phone and plan to listen with my new airpods. This ends up being a mistake as they keep falling out and I end up giving up on them entirely part way through the appointment. My mind starts to think about how many germs it picked up from the dental room floor.

It is now time for the freezing. My least favorite thing in the world. I breathe deeply in and out while carrying out a hand rubbing technique that doesn’t really work, but I do it anyway. After a couple applications of topical ointment, I brace myself as I see the huge needle descending into my mouth. She says “Ok, here we go”. I feel the pressure in the bottom of my cheek, the pain turns to tingles that resonate into one side of my tongue. Ok, one down. I know there are at least 4 more to go so I am not celebrating yet. The second one comes and goes. We then do right between my two upper front teeth. It feels as though the shot is going into my nose, the stinging pressure radiating into my sinus cavity. This is a new spot for the shot and it feels different than usual. Which of course sends my mind into a mild panic.  What if my face is frozen forever? What if there is nerve damage? Before I can completely spiral, there is another shot on the other side, then another.The chemical flavor breaks free from my insides and the syringe, hitting the back of my throat like a punch of metallic bitterness. I burst up, my gag reflex on edge. I use the suction that they allow me wield at my own free will, and gather myself. I lay back down, apologizing through mumbled words. My tongue is now totally numb and my lips feel fat and awkward. She says “It’s alright, just one more to go” ONE MORE? I think to myself but before it has time to sink in, it is over.  My face is now a detached mess, which in its uncomfortableness is a good thing since I know the cleaning is about to begin.

She first takes measurements of my pockets. The space that can grow between the gum and tooth. This gap can trap bacteria and plaque. With advanced gum disease this is the most important thing to monitor. It is normal to have a small space there but over a certain size is when you get into trouble. A few months ago I underwent a new laser treatment that was intense but hopeful to make a huge impact on said pockets. This was the moment of truth. As she reads out the numbers of each tooth, I hear none higher than four. There are a bunch of zeros and ones and I am thrilled. Once the readings are all done, we get down to business. Ultrasonic scaling, followed by manual scaling.  Both of which I can hear happening but can’t feel. The buzz of the water-pick on steroids and the grating of metal against my tooth. To round the visit out, I get treated to a polish and fluoride treatment. She tells me I am all done and that my husband is here to pick me up. It felt like every second lasted forever yet I time travelled.  

The fluoride gunk left on my teeth has a horrible aftertaste that no matter how much I try to spit into my little dixie cup I can’t remedy it. Two hours have passed in that chair and I am a grumpy Gus. My head is spinning as I adjust to being upright. I almost forget to put on my mask but she reminds me.  It’s probably a blessing since my mouth is floppy and unyielding in its numbness. I am drooling involuntarily like I just got lobotomized.  My husband is in the waiting room, masked up but I can see his loving eyes. I’m happy to see him.  

I sulk the whole ride home like a child who was forced to leave their friend’s house early. We get home and I migrate up to our room to sleep off the meds and anesthetic. I close the blinds, converting the room back into a den of darkness. I change into some pajamas and snuggle into bed. I’m still bitter, surprisingly restless and hungry. I turn on the television, putting on something mindless to usher me to sleep. A sense of delight starts to slowly seep in as I close my eyes. I will wake up in a couple hours with pearly white teeth, and a sore mouth, but it is over. For a few months I am free.

Copyright © 2021 Carly Eddy.

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