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possibilistfanfiction · 3 months

Note

anything surgeons au, especially butch!bea omg

[an accidental 2.7k words of baby tai for the culture]

you don’t ask for beatrice to consult on the case just because the baby really does look like her in a tangible way: brown eyes that shine in the sun; gold skin; soft dark hair; a happy smile. tai — an orphan, which you also don’t prioritize when you ask her, but whatever — is small for her three months and quite sick, a bad valve in her tiny heart doing more damage than good.

it’s a difficult surgery, complicated and intricate and, even though you’re the best in your field, a hardcore rockstar, you’re not a cardio surgeon. you ask beatrice to consult on the case because, even if you’d never admit it aloud in front of her, she is the best in the world.

‘dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, meeting you outside the picu. she’s not operating today, you’re fairly certain, or at least hasn’t yet, based on her neat navy slacks and oatmeal-colored sweater under her white coat, chelsea boots certainly not what she would wear in the OR, her buzzed hair not hidden under one of her surgical caps, her wedding band still on her finger rather than tucked away, pinned to the inside of her scrubs. you’ve known her for years and years, have watched her fail and succeed and succeed and succeed, have watched her fall in love and get married, have watched her build a home, a life — which includes you, in all the ways that matter, in the ways you will very rarely thank each other for and feel anyway.

but still, ‘dr. choi,’ you say, ‘thanks for coming.’

she nods. ‘it sounded like an interesting case from your summary.’ she takes the ipad you offer her and looks at the scans of tai’s heart, then her vitals, then the scans again, a little closer and with something like wonder filling her eyes, just at the corners but enough for you to feel a spark of hope in your chest. she looks up at you. ‘we can do this, i think.’

‘yeah?’

‘it’ll be —‘ she pauses, nods to reassure both of you, sets her shoulders, and you know that’s it — ‘it’ll be difficult, but it’s not impossible.’

‘agreed.’

‘can i meet her, then? the patient? i’d like to get an idea of how small this heart actually is.’

‘of course.’ you open the door and it’s just like any other consult; beatrice is always brave enough to partner up on any peds cases, even the most heartbreaking, the most hopeless.

tai smiles at beatrice, who is always good with children the same way you are: you talk to them like human beings, and you listen, and you take things seriously — their pain and their fear and their recovery. tai is too little to tell you anything, but beatrice still leans toward her gently and smiles at her babbling, runs a gentle hand over her soft hair, makes sure to warm the head of her stethoscope up on her thigh before pressing it to tai’s chest.

there’s no way for you to realize it at the time, but you will swear for years that you knew, even before beatrice and certainly before ava, that tai was special; beatrice closes her eyes and listens to tai’s failing heart carefully. ‘i’ll need an updated echo,’ she tells you and your intern, standing uselessly behind you. ‘and then, if you’re free afterward, dr. villambrosia, let’s meet in the skills lab? i’d like to run through the procedure.’

‘that works for me.’

she nods once, seriously. ‘no parents?’

you shake your head. ‘she’s here through my org, from chengdu.’

beatrice considers this briefly but soldiers on, like she and ava haven’t had quiet, sad fights about children and adoption and a family and a home. ‘if you feel comfortable, i can hand off my follow-ups this afternoon to dr. amunet and we can get this taken care of. it’ll be a long recovery, so i’d rather it not degrade any further if we wait.’

‘as long as the run-through feels good,’ you say, ‘i think it’s the best course of treatment.’

beatrice nods, smiles once down at tai and rubs her little chest while tai squirms and babbles happily. for such a sick kid — on oxygen and a feeding tube, two ivs because her veins are so small — she’s generally happy, bright in a way that peds usually isn’t. she’s not guaranteed to survive so, like all of your patients, you don’t get too attached. beatrice hasn’t had that problem before, either, caring but not too much, unlike ava, who feels each loss as if it’s his own. but the way that beatrice lingers and lets tai hold onto her fingers while she tells your intern exactly what she wants from the ekg and bloodwork — you think this might be different.

it’s touch and go for a while: you and beatrice are brilliant surgeons but, even with all of the tests and scans and practice, tai’s surgery is longer and more difficult than you could’ve prepared for: her heart is weak and so, so small; even beatrice struggles to place the careful, clever sutures you’ve watched her throw with ease, most surgeries, and for years. it takes longer than you would’ve liked to get her off bypass, much longer than you would’ve liked for her heart to start beating again in beatrice’s hands.

but: it does beat. weak and small, yes, but sure, and steady, and even, all the valves and ventricles ready to heal as they should be. tai’s cheeks, once she’s settled in the picu again, are rosy, her skin warm, her oxygen sats already up comfortably from before. you’d wired her sternum shut and the incision running down her tiny chest will leave a scar, and she’ll probably need another procedure or two as she gets older — but she will get older, as far as you can tell.

beatrice goes through — a little unexpected for the aftermath of a successful surgery, and far beyond the end of her relatively easy scheduled shift — all of the potential complications tai could face, how she was without a flow of properly oxygenated blood to her brain for an amount of time that frustrated her — maybe even frightened her. for as long as you’ve known beatrice — dr. choi — through undergrad and medical school, then residency and fellowships, into your first few years as attendings, she’s as unflappable as they come, unless it’s someone she loves who might be hurt, who might not get well. you’ve seen it with ava and her back, and shannon and mary after a car accident that looked much worse than it actually was, and even one time camila got the flu.

it surprises you in the moment when beatrice, carefully taking off her scrub cap — patterned with little otters and rainbows, a ridiculous gift from ava that beatrice horrifically wears with not a single ounce of hesitation or embarrassment — slips into her hospital-issued fleece quarterzip and sits down in the chair by tai’s bassinet once you and the nurses get all of her machines situated.

‘i’ll stay with her, dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, soft and formal.

‘there’s plenty of nurses, and dr. amunet, if you want to go home.’

beatrice shakes her head and leans over tai’s sleeping form, heavily sedated for the next few days so she’s not in pain, and runs a gentle finger along her cheek. ‘she — she doesn’t have anyone,’ she says, as much explanation as you need. ‘plus, dr. silva is on call tonight anyway.’

you resist the urge to say something mean about ava; he’s actually very talented and smart and he makes your best friend, your sister, very happy, and very full — even if he is the most annoying person you know. tai is alone, and all beatrice has to go home to, right now, is a beautiful house that’s empty of all of the life ava brings anywhere, leftovers in the fridge, a house that you know has an empty bedroom just down the hall from the primary, holding a lot of ava’s patient, quiet hope in the space.

‘okay,’ you say, not bothering her, just this once: tai is very small and still very sick; you’ve read enough studies to know that comfort, especially with babies who haven’t known as much of it as they should, can be extremely monumental in their ability to heal. ‘i’m sure you can handle if anything pops up, but i’d like to know anyway. text me.’

beatrice looks up from tai to nod, a grim smile on her face mellowed, seemingly, by tai’s steady breaths against beatrice’s palm. ‘will do.’

you nod and don’t bother to ask for anything else from her, taking your leave while she takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes, then slumps a little in the chair but keeps her hand on tai’s stomach, soothing and warm and present. tai has been alone her entire life, even if it’s only been very short; you believe that her body will know that she’s not anymore, at least for now.

it’s not often that you choose to come to work early, not often that you allow yourself to have much attachment to patients and their outcomes beyond whether or not you practiced the best medicine possible — no one would be able to do peds and neonatal surgery if they did — but you park far before the sun comes up and force yourself to grab three cups of coffee from the cafe before you head to the picu.

it doesn’t surprise you when you see both beatrice and ava by tai’s bassinet now, beatrice fast asleep, slumped over fully on ava’s shoulder, and ava scrolling through an ipad, probably taking care of charting here rather than in her office. ava smiles up at you, never deterred by your grumbling or eye rolls, and, just this once, you smile back.

‘dr. silva,’ you greet. ‘how’s she doing?’ you ask, handing him the coffee.

‘totally steady all night,’ ava says quietly, sounding far too proud of a baby that isn’t even really beatrice’s patient, let alone theirs. ‘she’s really strong, even if she’s small.’

you look over tai’s vitals from the past night quickly and it’s true, she is getting better even faster than you could’ve hoped. ‘she is.’

ava smiles, then looks over at a fast asleep beatrice, a little aching. ’bea said she’s an orphan?’

you sit down next to them both and nod; you assume beatrice gave ava enough of the details. ‘we’ll work to place her with a good family once she’s recovered well.’ the warning is unspoken: don’t get too attached.

ava looks over at beatrice, who has spent the entire night asleep in the picu over a baby whose heart she massaged until it beat again in her hands. he nods. ‘yeah,’ he says, hopeful despite it all. ‘yeah.’

‘i — i can do it.’

‘dr. choi.’

‘no,’ beatrice says, ‘it’s fine. i’m on call tonight, and it’s good for her.’

it is, you both know it, but tai is healing and, if all goes according to plan, will be released in a week or two, hopefully to a family who’s equipped to care for her, to raise her gently and generously and well. beatrice — and ava, whenever they make up a very flimsy excuse — have been in tai’s room often, and you know they’ve grown attached even though you warned them not to. but beatrice taking her scrub top off and picking tai up gently, careful of her leads and her still-tender chest, and then holding her close and settling into a rocking chair.

‘beatrice,’ you say, sitting down across from her.

‘have you — has there been a family chosen?’

you’re not the one in charge of any of that, your contributions to the organization being both your sixth-generation-surgeon money and your sixth-generation-surgeon talent, but you know there hasn’t been a decision made yet. you shake your head.

she nods. ‘we…’ she swallows, readjusts so tai is held even closer, her left ear close to beatrice’s heart. ‘i spoke with ava. a lot, actually. and, well, you obviously know i’m chinese; i can teach her how to speak mandarin and make mapo doufu and she won’t — she won’t miss that part. and ava knows about not having a family of origin, and he’s, like, the best. and,’ she continues, ‘we’re both surgeons. you know she’s going to need care now, but also her whole life, and i — i fixed her heart.’ she can’t even look at you, just looks at tai’s peaceful little face as her voice gets wobbly and she sniffles.

beatrice, above all, means what she says. she’s maybe one of the least impulsive people you’ve ever met, agonizing for as long as you’ve known her over haircuts and new hiking gear and dinner reservations, as methodical as it comes when she practices medicine.

‘i —‘ she looks at tai once more and then takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. ‘i love her.’

you know, more than anything, ava has made beatrice want to be brave. you let it sink in, let it hit you like a tidal wave of easy warmth, then really let yourself look at your oldest friend and every careful thing about her, lean muscles and long-healed scars, the most careful thing held against her chest — the same skin, bathed in the light of an easy sunrise. ‘well okay then.’

beatrice seems surprised, for a moment, as if you would say no, or doubt her, or discourage or argue. ‘really?’

you nod, brusque mostly so you don’t cry. ‘i’ll connect you with aja; she’ll be able to help you with all the paperwork. i’ll put in my recommendation, of course.’

beatrice adjusts tai so she can free a hand to wipe a few tears. ‘thank you, lilith.’

‘let’s just hope she takes after you, not ava.’

beatrice laughs, and it makes tai smile.

‘no.’

‘she’s —‘

‘your daughter,’ you say. ‘you’re not tai’s doctor any longer, haven’t been in months.’

beatrice frowns, arms crossed. ava smiles far too serenely for your liking next to her.

‘she’ll be fine, babe,’ she says. ‘it’s just a post-op, super normal.’ she turns toward tai, happily squealing at a nurse playing peak-a-boo with her while they get her situated on the exam table.

beatrice glowers but concedes, softening immediately when ava squeezes her bicep. they’re both definitely exhausted but happier than you could’ve really imagined; the empty bedroom now filled with a plethora of toys and clothes, colorful animals on the walls, a safe crib with a space mobile you’d personally given them. it makes sense to you, easily, that they’re good parents — kind and attentive and funny — even if, right now, they’re driving you insane. they’re both in comfortable clothes, not bothering with anything more on their shared day off.

you have to physically shoo beatrice away as you’re listening to tai’s heart, which is ridiculous because you’re sure beatrice does it at home, probably every night. you’re more relieved than you would ever let on that her heartbeat is normal and steady — perfect, as far as you’re concerned. you go through the rest of her check-up and she’s as healthy as can be, gaining weight well, rolling over, holding her head up, starting to eat baby food — yes to bananas; no to green beans so far — not sleep regressing as much as they’d feared.

‘she’s doing great,’ you reassure.

‘fuck yeah she is,’ ava says, then sighs. ‘before either of you start, first of all, language is all relative.’

‘ava, we can’t have her first word being f—‘

‘— secondly,’ ava interrupts, then looks at beatrice putting tai back into her dinosaur onesie, slipping a warm cap onto her head, ‘she’s the best baby of all time.’

‘she is wonderful,’ beatrice says, still a little reverent.

ava elbows you as beatrice carefully pulls socks onto tai’s feet. ‘one of the better ones i’ve met,’ you concede, because you really do love tai, and, all things considered, she’s an easy, happy baby. ‘certainly better than i thought would be possible with either of you.’

ava rolls her eyes. ‘i read your recommendation.’ horrifyingly, she starts reciting it, so you move as quickly as you can.

‘i have a tight schedule today,’ you interrupt, beatrice laughing quietly, smiling at both of you with far too much amusement.

‘bye lil,’ she says. ‘thanks for everything.’

‘yeah, yeah,’ you say, but there’s no bite to it. ‘see you at dinner.’

#wn fic #avatrice fic #avatrice #surgeons au #i don’t often imagine them as moms but oh boy when i DO #tai … i love her. lilith also loves her #butch bea 🥺🫡#a mom!!!!#if u rmb how zola was adopted in grey’s anatomy no u don’t but also objectively better w queer ppl 💁#also sorry if u know things about medicine. in the spirit of grey’s anatomy #it is merely a plot vehicle here lol #also yes lilith does peds bc she is HARDCORE

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jrueships · 4 months

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Okay i caved to the questions. welcome to ted's omegaverse except there's like no omegas in the verse. Pls don't kill me

Omegas Exist, but... the sportsworld is far too toxic for most to exist Normally, i mean. Male sports especially, but even the wnba had a streak at the start of their development where it was originally believed that only female alphas would just Barely be strong enough to commit to a sport ( a bad mix of misogyny and secondary hierarchy ) . Male-dominated sports have the similar feel in terms of outdated stances plaguing public opinion, but keep it simpler with ' only Alphas are strong enough for Sport.'

However, this has started to change.

Not in favor of the omega, no, don't be silly! Nothings ever in favor of Them.

It's not Exactly favor of The Beta either, but the betas do at least get to keep their name. You see, betas play fundamental roles in team sports especially. They may not be as valued (not in a star sense, but a 'i need a wheel that'll make this car move (team gain traction/fans) and a beta would be perfect' valuing kind of sense. You're just a worker, but hey! At least you CAN work, right? Unlike The Invaluables.) in independent sports like boxing, but good betas are Critical to a TEAM that needs a Championship -- that needs Roleplayers .

Team rulebook 5. Betas are the Best roleplayers. That's the best fame they'll ever seem to get, it seems.

Although some delusional fans and sometimes gms may try to construct a team of mainly alphas (either a lot of young alpha top picks or veteran alpha players hungry for a win ) for the raw power, intensity, and.. cool factor.. it usually falls apart pretty sadly. They need a mediator, someone who won't get greedy or frustrated with the fame or lack of it. Someone who's willing to pass, willing to come in and be the clog rather than the mechanic, someone who's a Beta whose only sense of belonging Is belonging.

Sports rulebook 6. Betas Stand Second.

Most betas have accepted this before entering a sport, ever since Scottie Pippen embarrassed himself for trying to flip the Beta narrative and failing laughably .

Betas can be bad. Bill Laimbeer will beat the breaks off anyone. They can also be good. Pippen would try to middleman Jordan's frustrations with his team, especially the rups (rookie 'pups', men playfully called pups because they're new to the sport). Shaq and Magic both have humorous charms that make them Feel like alphas.. but they needed more to get a ring. They needed alpha teammates, ultimately. no matter how big or bad or good a Beta may be, they are always Second. But they should never, never be considered first. That's an alpha's job. Orlando made that mistake drafting a beta to win them a ring, a beta that would eventually leave to ringchase with any alpha he could. Shaq's a bit shameless for a beta, but being shameless is maybe the only path to 'fame' (becoming a simple shtick to an easy-to-remember title, either being Sidekick, Dumb, Helpful, Funny, Enforcer, etc) for the life of a beta. Why? Because

Sports rulebook 1. Your Alpha Must Take Over.

Alphas can come in different shapes and sizes. Not all alphas are big and burly. They're not all hyper-confident or aggressive for no reason. But they Do have to come and take over a team. They DO HAVE TO feel possessive over their players, obsessive over their plays. Betas are there just to work, PICKED just to WORK, but alphas? Alphas are different. They Have to be the spark.

Michael Jordan was an alpha who presented very, very late. No one is exactly sure when he presented. Even Michael's story changes from before getting cut in highschool to after to college to the 'flu' game. But Everyone, at one point, thought he was a beta. ( His siblings laugh at this. )And then he wasn't. And then he won. And then he became a dictator .

But, again, there's a lot of alphas that haven't won. Charles Barkley, hilarious and prickly, perhaps too prickly at times, can be his own downfall from either sheer laziness or stubbornness. Some didnt always 'Win' in life like alpha fanboys or alpha egoists might try to persuade. Wilt was great, but personality-wise? .... other alphas like Kareem butted heads with him.. and even betas like Magic would then butt heads with Kareem! Allen Iverson played by his own self-indulgent rules and won through his fashionable impact, self-oriented liberation, and also lost by playing his own self-indulgent rules through trouble with money. Isiah Thomas defends his team and their troubles like a bull, oftentimes a hypocritical.. near-sighted bull. Larry Bird? Competitive. And fucking Rude.

Sports rulebook .....: Alphas Can Be Double-Edged To Either The Team, or Themselves

Alphas whose talent alone failed them by being either not enough, not determined, or entirely different to the subject become disgruntled sports 'analysts' who criticize betas or 'wannabe alphas' aka alphas whose behaviors don't seem 'alpha' enough (too docile). Others become known as busts. Others disappear. Others refuse to give up on their alpha birthright, scratching tooth and nail in the gleague, a disaster league of rups, failed alphas, struggling betas still trying to learn their place, and a few undercover omegas on suppressants. They can bounce around trying to take over team from team, or try to act more like a beta just to gain a secure job, only for their old trained instincts of Stardom to swoop in and make them seem stubborn and selfish (hog the ball during crucial moments). Many become coaches whose attachment to the game is almost parasitic as a purpose. Commentating is another option to fuel that parasocial fire.

You live as an alpha, you die as an alpha. It's a Sport.

That is, until Rodman happened.

Hes not an alpha, some thought he was, during his bulls era. But at the beginning, he was a beta. A gangly pistons player during the dirty work of defense. A beta who blended into whatever his team was, a bad boy, a nitty gritty, a winner, a loser -- whatever his team needed, he became. And then, his team needed him traded.

He started taking more, at first. Started becoming defiant, becoming aggravated. Paranoid at Popovich's overwhelmingly alpha abuse of power, of persistence, of Perception.

Isiah begged him to keep it easy, it's not safe to take so much, it's Untested. It's got side effects, he's seen them from players who wanted to get as far as rodman could but couldn't. They weren't strong like rodman. Another alpha giving him his unsolicited opinion. Bill told him to suck it up. Betas can be so bitter. Pop's yelling. Such a dusty smell, red sand that made your nose itch and not in the fun, just snorted ski slopes way. And now he's gotta deal with Pippen's wary, flipflop scent of calming then chilling hormones soothing then spiking the air as most betas do. And now, he's got Michael telling him to--

... Michael's pouring his pills down the toliet, both his heat suppressants .. and his Rut Inducers. He's skipped from telling and has gone straight to Doing .

One look from the ??? and Rodman realized.

Rodman realized he was tired of wanting to be wanted like a starting alpha but personal enough to be privately pressed like a working beta. Rodman realized a lot of things about himself and others that day. 1. He was tired of always crumbling to others' norms. 2. 'ROIDing' is an action that can be used primarily by athletes because they can afford it. 3. Other athletes besides himself have/can do it. 4. He's just the only one that's made it now known to the world that He is Dennis Rodman, He is an Omega, and He's used ROIDing to void his omega symptoms with suped up suppressants then Replicated Rut with raging inducers & created a Beautifully sensitive Beta, then, increasing both doses heavily, an abstract Alpha.

In short, yeah, he's used ROIDs. But he's stopping now. He's playing completely without the doses. Not too little, not too much, it's done. Zero. Isn't that great? Isn't that what sports always preach in the end? That it's You who wins or loses in the end. Not just your Talent, or your Drive, your Reach, it's You. You, crazy culmination You, who matters ultimately in Your world.

So why is everyone so horrified.

The sport changes after this. A few, just a few, omegas can show now, like, actually Show and not curtain themselves behind overloaded prescriptions. Apparently, even betas could ROID back then with just rut inducers to enhance alpha behavior and appear or Become alphas as long as they continue to doses. But most scrutiny lies in omegas ROIDing into betas, since it's a much easier dose to take in comparison to an omega -> alpha jump, which can have devastating side effects -- the most harmful being mental. Only those determined enough, Insane enough can commit themselves fully without cutting too abruptly and creating even more damage through their hesitancy. And even if the process is completed, the effects may be harsher than expected.

Betas start to become the new scrutinized spotlight, either torn by criticism of doing too much or too little, or skepticism on whether or not they're 'Real'. Alphas, in turn, get desperate to outshine the shiners, whether accomplishing that feat via negative or positive means. It's rumored some have even started turning themselves into Betas now, hard dosing rut suppressants when they're that desperate to try and tame the ego that torments them. Some say it's for the better, some respond brilliantly to the dose, it was made for them, it was Them. Old packs often rip these kind of thoughts to shreds, not caring for empathetic stances, just their black & white view of what was once written. New packs accept the dosing, but the worst of the new packs pick and choose which to, either Everyone Has To or only The Good Ones can. Old players get their legacies questioned because their secondary hierarchy is questioned. Was Magic Really a beta? Or was he a self-conscious, self-compensating omega who craved the lure of feeling needed? And then even went an extra step with the rut inducers to make him a Shiny beta, charismatic enough to peacock? Or was he just that Magic to be a really flashy beta? OR OR.. is magic all of that at once? Maybe, if he did do it, he needed to?

ROIDing is a necessary medicine in sport now, newly designated as necessary using overstimulation risk as a reason to protect too many players from imprisonment & eventual shut down of the sport since suppressants were part of every player ( keeps betas clear-headed and alphas consolable ). But it's still debated by any side a group may conjoin as. The threat of its illegalization is looming. Violence, fear, envy, hatred. Trust no one.

Fuck Everyone ?

oh, yeah, anyone can top or bottom here. That at least remains the same. Positions can just go against the grain in less secret now.. however, that doesn't mean they're all exactly Comfortable to, though .

But you know who's mighty comfy?

Dennis is doing just fine. Eccentric, quiet, grounded, true, omega, stubborn, beta, alpha, callous: Dennis.

#in SUMMARY #dennis started the fire #and no one knows whos who really #in my world i wanna leave a little room for outside interpretation #was mj a beta who roided into an alpha?#or was he an omega who was just crazy enough to make the leap #or was he really merely an alpha who presented late?#im neither confirming nor denying anything ! it's open for everyone to speculate !!#im gonna make another post expanding on the different ppl in this verse and their assignments later #i just needed to set the scene yanno #if u read all this ure insane and i love u but ure insane #ted longer #ted drabbles

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