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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

Warnings: strong depictions of illness; very minor suggestive situations

A/N: Super angsty with generous amounts of cuteness. Reader will eventually get to be a badass. But this chapter focuses on articulating the grave situation.

You were pacing outside the bedroom door, wringing your hands just to keep as many parts of your body as possible moving so you wouldn’t combust. Hershel had insisted you wait outside in case it was something possibly contagious that took Daryl down. Even though you’d spent a lot of time close to him, you were showing no symptoms, so the veterinarian thought it best to be safe rather than sorry.

You could hear Daryl coughing through the door, the sound sudden and harsh, followed by a groan each time that gave you hope that he’d possibly woke up. He’d been dead weight in your arms when everyone had burst in to help. The others had returned just in time, a heavy coat and gloves in tow for Daryl like you had requested. Rick and T-Dog had carried him up the stairs while Lori and Carol put forth effort to keep you back. You had shrugged them off and followed until Hershel stepped in.

“Y/N, you’re gonna pace a groove into the floorboards.” Carol stood by, watching you, refusing to go about her evening duties and leave you alone. “Y/N.”

You finally paused but didn’t look at her. She didn’t get a chance to comfort you before the door opened. Hershel and Maggie stepped out, whispering between themselves in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I’ll go get Beth and Carol to help me make a list. Carol?” The eldest Greene placed a hand on Carol’s arm, giving her enough time to assess you before she reluctantly followed.

“Is he okay?” You asked quietly. You and Hershel were alone outside the door now, the old man’s face smooth with a calm you wished you could muster.

“He likely had a virus that developed into pneumonia from breathing in the cold air. His lungs are full of fluid and inflamed, which accounts for the rattle when he breathes and, of course, the cough.”

“I know what pneumonia it is.” You interjected, a hint of irritation lacing your tone. “What needs to happen?”

“Ideally, we’d start an IV with fluids and antibiotics. If we can get the fluids and manage some oral antibiotics, we can make those work too. He needs those two things for certain. Fever reducers and cough suppressants would be beneficial. I will check for Tylenol in my things, though I fear I may have given you the last.”

You crossed your arms above your belly, hugging yourself tightly, and bounced on the balls of your feet, your brain running on overdrive. “Maggie’s making a list?” Hershel nodded, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. “Okay, I’ll go see when we can leave.”

“Y/N, wait.” For an old man, he sure moved quickly, stepping into your path. You knew what he would say. He would advise you not to go, that you shouldn’t put your baby in danger. For fuck sake, you knew that. “I can’t tell you what to do. We’ve established that. And I know that Daryl means a lot to you.”

“With the utmost respect, Hershel, please get to the point.” Your tone was level though inside, you felt like yourself crumbling. The world just took and took and when you would start to feel safe, it didn’t hesitate to remind you of the devastation it could bring.

“I’d like you to stay with Daryl.” Your rebuttal melted on your tongue when he held up a hand. “I will do everything in my power to care for him but I need to be able to care for you too. Maggie is capable. She’ll have help. Daryl needs you here.”

“I just—”

“There will be no getting him to cooperate if he finds out you left. You know this.”

You threw back your head and let your arms fall. Of course he was right. And once again, you felt useless. “I know.”

“You know, you are doing more for that man in there than anyone in this group ever could hope to do and I’m not just speaking of the child.” He smiled at you with such kindness. It reminded you of your father, your eyes burning. “Remember that.”

You nodded and sniffed. The old man’s footsteps retreated as you leaned your forehead against the door. Daryl was coughing on the other side. Hershel would have told you if you shouldn’t go in. Most strains of pneumonia were not contagious beyond the virus or bacteria that caused them. If you hadn’t contracted the cold or flu that Daryl had before this, it was unlikely you’d be infected now.

Turning the knob, you pushed on the door, steadily controlling how quickly it opened to keep it from making a lot of noise. Daryl was under the blankets, one arm lying across his stomach and the other at his side. His face was tilted away from you.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt but if you ventured to guess, he was likely not wearing anything. Hershel would have checked for bites. The hunter wouldn’t have kept that hidden. You knew that but maybe they didn’t.

His chest rattled and wheezed with each breath, appearing to take a lot more effort than should be necessary. You wondered if they would search for oxygen tanks. Maggie is capable. They would. You needed to stay right there and not try to micromanage. Daryl needed you more.

There was already an old, cushioned chair next to the bed. Perhaps Hershel used it or maybe Maggie moved it there for you. Regardless, you lowered yourself into it, remaining on the edge so you could easily reach Daryl’s hand.

His skin was overly warm and dry, the sound accompanying each labored breath was somehow worse at that proximity. Seeing him so still reminded you of finding him injured back at the farm, how afraid you had been at the thought of losing him. That fear had experienced then resurfaced with a vengeance, squeezing your lungs so tightly that you imagined Daryl could breathe with more ease in that moment.

“Prolly shouldn’t be in here.”

You visibly startled, nearly sliding off the edge of the chair. “Jesus, Daryl, don’t do that.” You had to take a moment to get your heartrate under control before meeting his scarcely open eyes. It was as if whatever energy, whatever stubbornness, that had been keeping him going had just drained out of him. “How’re you feeling?”

“How ‘m I lookin’?” He wheezed. He coughed without opening his mouth until he could get his arm to obey him and cover the lower portion of his face. He inhaled his food like a human vacuum but at least he covered his mouth when he coughed.

“Fair point.” You took his hand again and held it between yours. He didn’t pull away.

“Just need a night an’ I can get back out there.”

You instinctively began to heat up in anger. How could he even think he was fit to be out of bed, much less hunt or take watch? How many times were you going to need to remind him that he needed to care for himself as well? After the initial desire to throttle him had passed, you leaned forward to rest your elbows on the mattress. “We’ve been over this. You can’t run yourself into the ground to take care of me, Thumper, or anyone else. You've done that. You’re really sick, Daryl. And I’m scared.”

“Ain’t gotta be scared.” His fingers wiggled weakly, slowly between your hands. You moved one away so he could squeeze the other. “Ain’t gonna be in this bed long.”

“You’ll be in this bed until Hershel says you can leave it.” You replied sternly. Despite the tears in your eyes, you firmly held his tired gaze.

He challenged you, indignation carved into every line of weariness. When you didn’t waver, he backed down, much to your relief. “Fine.” He coughed again, coming up off the pillow from the force of it. You released his hand and stood over him, grabbing the old pillow from the other side of the bed. Luckily the dust had been beaten from the fabrics before you were in that room. You slid an arm behind his neck to help him sit up a little, placing the pillow behind him. “Could’a done it myself. Ain’t a invalid.”

“I know you can do things yourself. You’re just not seeming to comprehend that you aren't alone anymore. That someone cares for you.” Loves you. You were still standing and took notice of the bowl of water on the table with a piece of fabric hanging over the edge. Very likely Maggie was trying to bring down the fever. Licking your lips, you dipped the damp material into the cool water and wrung out the excess. With the slightest hesitation, you sat down close to his hand and began to dab the feverish skin of his face. Daryl probably didn’t even realize he sighed when his eyes fluttered closed. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

Fever-bright blue reappeared to study you. He didn’t seem upset but the hunter was known for his sudden shifts in temperament. You simply continued what you were doing, moving on to his neck. He coughed weakly, bringing his arm toward his face while you moved yours to make room. The spell was brisk, your limbs trading again but you felt his fingers brush your swollen belly.

After another moment, Daryl grunted with a look of absolute feigned irritation. Though you knew you had won this round, you kept your expression neutral and leaned close to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you.”

His eyes were closed but you didn’t miss the twitch at one corner of his lips. His only reply was another grunt.

The night was nearly unbearable. You had moved to the other side of the bed and sat cross-legged at his side. His breathing was labored and loud, the coughs frequent and painful. The more he rested, the less lucid he became during moments of wakefulness. His skin burned hotter as the fever climbed, your attempts to lower it all for naught.

Maggie and company were set to leave at first light but it wasn’t soon enough. Pleas fell from your lips each time Hershel came to check on each of you. He urged you to try and rest, even offering to bring Carol, Lori, or Beth to sit with the archer while you got some sleep. Your refusal was instantaneous. Eventually, he brought Beth with him and reasoned she could stay to watch over Daryl while you rested beside him, promising to wake you with any changes, good or bad.

You were exhausted, that you couldn’t deny. The baby rolled and kicked, honing in on your anxiousness, Hershel said. It was with a yawn that you reluctantly agreed. The Tylenol had finally been located, and you insisted on helping get Daryl to take it before lying down. He was resistant for only a moment before complying, simply because you started to cry. Hormones and exhaustion were not a great combination.

“You’ll wake me for anything?” You were propped on your elbows, preparing to curl up next to the furnace that was your boyfriend? Partner? Significant other? Whatever. You’d figure that part when he was better.

“Anything at all. I promise.” Beth smiled reassuringly and patted your ankle.

You had been made aware that anything not in use had been packed and was ready in case there was a need to flee. That would leave ample time for Daryl to be moved safely. The team of Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog would go in search of what was needed, likely to be gone the entire day to venture further out. The local homes and businesses had already been looted. In essence, there was nothing more to be done except keep the archer comfortable and more importantly, alive.

“Okay.” You conceded, rolling onto your side to face Daryl as he coughed, a spasm of pain on his face before he settled again. “I’m right here.” You wrapped your fingers around his and held on loosely, closing your eyes to sink quickly into sleep.

You heard the coughs before registering that your name was being called—no. It was being shouted. You shot straight up, hands immediately fumbling for Daryl. He was upright as well, leaning over his lap and arms braced against his chest to hold the blanket in place, cognizant enough during even such a paroxysm of hacking to hide his marred chest. With both the candle, nearly spent after what most of been a few hours rest for you, and the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, you could see the redness on his skin, veins and tendons bulging from the force.

“It’s okay. Daryl, it’s—where’s Hershel?” Your eyes remained on him, hand rubbing circles over his upper back. “Beth?” You looked at her then, found her staring at Daryl with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Fear? Hopelessness? The girl flinched at the sound of her name, only then seeming to hear your question.

“He went to check if we have any tea bags.” She had lost so many, so much already. So young, still a child in that world. She was frozen, her eyes beginning to shine with moisture.

Daryl’s fit was calming, each wet, wheezing gasp making the vice around your heart clench tighter. “Beth. Beth, look at me.” You were scared. No, you were terrified of losing Daryl. When the girl swallowed hard and finally turned her head to face you, you smiled with as much reassurance as you could scrape up around the dread stealing your own breath. Whatever you had, you would offer to Daryl. And to her. “He’ll be okay. Your dad’s gonna make sure of it.” You almost failed to hide the quiver in your voice. “Can you go see if we have any more clean scraps of cloth? I’d rather not have him spitting what he coughs up onto the floor.”

Beth nodded and spared one more lingering glance at Daryl, then she left the room.

“Nice.” Daryl said with a desperate inhale. “Almost—believed ya myself.” He was still sitting up with his shoulders slumped, nearly folded onto his lap. You were still tenderly rubbing circles over his back.

“You will be okay.” You whispered, laying your forehead against his shoulder blade, smiling when he didn’t react to your skin pressing against a particularly deep scar. Each breath vibrated where you rested. “Here.” You sniffed and pulled away one of the pillows. “Lay on your stomach. It opens up your lungs.”

The hunter looked over his shoulder tiredly as if considering whether or not it was worth the effort. There was a small jerk of his chin that you perceived as a nod, and then he was turning languidly to stretch out on his stomach. He coughed and buried his face in the pillow. You hadn’t noticed he was shivering before then. The blanket was twisted around his legs, making it more difficult to pull it up to the middle of his back.

“S’miserable.” The words were muffled but decipherable.

“I know.” You were getting to your feet, pressing your hands into the small of your back to soothe the ache there. The baby moved in what felt like a roll. “Thumper’s doing gymnastics.” Daryl turned his head toward the chair on his side of the bed just as you sat down and dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water, his arm immediately outstretched so that the back of his hand rested on top of your bump. “Let’s see if we can help the Tylenol with that fever.”

When the cool fabric touched the back of his neck, Daryl flinched. With his body fighting to regulate his temperature, it must have been quite the shock. You left it there for a moment before moving to dab the side of his face. Swiping the cloth over his back, you realized he once again was allowing you to see his scars, this time without the tension of rigid muscles that accompanied his shame and self-loathing. Maybe he just felt too horrible to care.

By the time Hershel lightly tapped on the door, Daryl was sleeping. The coughs were still present but with longer reprieves, the hunter so exhausted that the fits barely roused him.

“We found some tea. I regret not mentioning to Maggie that honey could be beneficial.” One plastic cup in one hand was steaming, a torn piece of flannel wrapped around it to ensure he didn’t burn himself. The other hand held a refilled bottle of water, likely from boiling some of the snow.

Your mind drifted to how different this winter was so different from the ones before the turn. Georgia wasn’t usually a state to receive that amount of snow and such low temperatures. Maybe the lack of human activity had altered the weather patterns. Less cars, less pollution, less deforestation. You weren’t an expert but there had to be something different. If he was real, maybe god just saw fit to throw a few more curveballs at your little group. As if the threat of being eaten alive by the dead wasn’t enough.

Shaking your head clear, you brushed your fingertips across Daryl’s forehead. “They left?” Hershel nodded. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet.

“Rick seemed to think this was urgent enough to send them out before dawn. I can’t say I’m thrilled to see my daughter driving away into the night but I am inclined to agree with his judgment.”

Daryl could die. It was urgent but for more than any practical reason Rick could suggest. It was so much deeper than that. “He’s asleep. Should I wake him up to drink it?” You placed the fabric back in the water.

“As much as I’d like him to rest, he also needs to avoid dehydration.” He raised the cup slightly. “Peppermint tea is caffeine free but we had nothing to sweeten it. We can only hope he’s thirsty enough to not care. If he’d prefer, I also brought some water.”

Sighing, you nodded and leaned forward to be in Daryl’s line of sight once he awakened. “Daryl. Wake up.” You pulled the blanket up to cover his back. Hershel had seen the scars more than once, you knew that, but you were almost certain Daryl would have appreciated the effort.

With a groan of protest, he opened his eyes to slits. “What?”

“Hershel brought you some tea.”

“Ain’t thirsty.” He closed his eyes.

“Bullshit.” You challenged flatly. “Come on, sit up.”

His eyes opened a little wider then, sheer stubbornness driving him to glare at you. “M’comfortable.”

“Tough titty.”

His expression smoothed out, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Nah, s’real soft.” The hand that laid on your stomach drifted up, the back of his knuckles pressing lightly across the swell of your left breast.

Hershel cleared his throat. Daryl’s hand moved away at a speed you didn’t think he was capable of in his current state. You snorted when the fevered flush coloring his cheeks deepened with embarrassment.

Reaching a hand toward the veterinarian, you waited for him to cross the room and pass off the cups.

“Try to drink as much as you can, son.”

Daryl hummed, likely feeling too awkward to trust his voice. You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Hershel.”

“No thanks necessary. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check in, but call down if you need anything sooner.”

“Okay.” The door clicked shut while you sat the cup of water down by the bowl and cloth.

“Why didn’cha—tell me the old man—was in here?” Daryl croaked, making a face so close to a pout that you found it adorable.

You chuckled. “I didn’t think you were gonna feel me up from your sick bed, sir.” He grumbled something incomprehensible but you honestly weren’t paying attention. If he wasn’t willing to sit up, you could have him raise his head just enough for you to help. “If you won’t sit up for me, could you at least lift your head and let me help you drink?”

“Y’ain’t gonna—stop houndin’—me ‘til I do, are ya?” He turned his face into the pillow and coughed, staying there until he was sure it was over.

“Nope. You might as well just do what I ask.” You were smiling sweetly and batting your eyes when he finally moved his face back to you.

“All women nag—this much—or s’mine just special?” Along with the relentless wiggles of your unborn baby, butterflies stirred and fluttered. Even if it was difficult to look past the fact that he struggled to draw in enough air when speaking, you felt your skin—as well as your heart—warm.

His.

“You’re just lucky.” You nearly sing-songed, choosing not to question his verbiage. You knew you were his. He’d been rather clear about that, even if he hadn’t exactly used words to convey it. That was enough for you. Hearing it was just a bonus.

Daryl dragged his limbs and began to push up onto his forearms, but he abandoned the movement before his chest even lifted from the mattress. When he sighed, it was likely from resignation. He lifted and angled his head for you to adequately position the cup and pour a small amount of tea into his mouth.

“Needs sugar.” He commented a moment or two after swallowing. Shaking your head, you offered it again.

It took a substantial amount of time to finish the tea and a few sips of water. The sun’s appearance found you sitting on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers through Daryl’s hair. He had fallen asleep before finishing the tea, waking only just enough to cooperate with your efforts. Hershel had been in once, declaring that while the archer hadn’t improved, he hadn’t worsened either.

When he began to cough, you moved your hand from his hair to his back, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to provide any measure of comfort. Once he had settled, you used one of the flannel pieces Beth had retrieved to clean his mouth and the pillow. Hershel seemed pleased that the cough was productive. It was a disgusting reassurance but you’d take anything.

Daryl groaned and shivered, the fever relatively untouched by the Tylenol. The veterinarian had cautioned you that without the aid of antibiotics and soon, it was likely Daryl’s condition would deteriorate. Your hand stilled on this spine, the rattling of his lungs vibrating beneath your palm. Nearly overcome with an intense notion of foreboding, you turned your face toward the window, almost as if to summon back the team by sheer force of will alone.

“Please hurry.”

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inkskinned · 2 years

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i. about 2 weeks ago, i was told there's a good chance that in 5 or so years, i'll need a wheelchair.

ii. okay. i loved harry potter as a kid. i have a hypothesis about this to be honest - why people still kind of like it. it's that she got very lucky. she managed to make a cross-generational hit. it was something shared for both parents and kids. it was right at the start of a huge cultural shift from pre to post-internet. i genuinely think many people were just seeking community; not her writing. it was a nice shorthand to create connection. which is a long way of saying - she didn't build this legacy, we built it for her. she got lucky, just once. that's all.

iii. to be real with you, i still struggle with identifying as someone with a disability, which is wild, especially given the ways my life has changed. i always come up against internalized ableism and shame - convinced even right now that i'm faking it for attention. i passed out in a grocery store recently. i hit my head on the shelves while i went down.

iv. he raises his eyebrows while he sends me a look. her most recent new book has POTS featured in it. okay, i say. i already don't like where this is going. we both take another bite of ramen. it is a trait of the villain, he says. we both roll our eyes about it.

v. so one of the things about being nonbinary but previously super into harry potter is that i super hate jk rowling. but it is also not good for my mental health to regret any form of joy i engaged with as a kid. i can't punish my young self for being so into the books - it was a passion, and it was how i made most of my friends. everyone knew about it. i felt like everyone had my same joy, my same fixation. as a "weird kid", this sense of belonging resonated with me so loudly that i would have done anything to protect it.

vi. as a present, my parents once took me out of school to go see the second movie. it is an incredibly precious memory: my mom straight-up lying about a dentist appointment. us snickering and sneaking into the weekday matinee. within seven years of this experience, the internet would be a necessity to get my homework finished. the world had permanently changed. harry potter was a relic, a way any of us could hold onto something of the analog.

vii. by sheer luck, the year that i started figuring out the whole gender fluid thing was also the first year people started to point out that she might have some internalized biases. i remember tumblr before that; how often her name was treated as godhood. how harry potter was kind of a word synonymous for "nerdy but cool." i would walk out of that year tasting he/him and they/them; she would walk out snarling and snapping about it.

viii. when i teach older kids creative writing, i usually tell them - so, she did change the face of young adult fiction, there's no denying that. she had a lot more opportunities than many of us will - there were more publishing houses, less push for "virally" popular content creators. but beyond reading another book, we need to write more books. we need to uplift the voices of those who remain unrepresented. we need to push for an exposure to the bigotry baked into the publishing system. and i promise you: you can write better than she ever did. nothing she did was what was magical - it was the way that the community responded to it.

ix. i get home from ramen. three other people have screenshotted the POTS thing and sent it to me. can you fucking believe we're still hearing this shit from her when it's almost twenty-fucking-twenty-three. the villain is notably also popular on tumblr. i just think that's funny. this woman is a billionaire and she's mad that she can't control the opinions of some people on a dying blue site that makes no money. lady, and i mean this - get a fucking life.

x. i am sorry to the kid i was. maybe the kid you were too. none of us deserved to see something like this ruined. that thing used to be precious to me. and now - all those good times; measured into dust.

/// 9.6.2022 // FUCKING AGAIN, JK? Are you fucking kidding me?

#witches and wizards #kids need to be able to play games without knowing the extended universe #playing was easy #i knew i wasn't gonna be able to explain chronicles of christomancy #but we could pick up a stick and run around #nd say we were magic that would be enough backstory #and i think the last time i felt that sense of community #was the summer of pokemon go #it's about cross-generational connectivity bro #yes there are insular communtities but EVERYONE had fucking read harry potter #which is me saying - i think maybe people don't miss HER or the ACTUAL BOOK tbh #they miss... feeling connected #think about how so many people felt so weirdly ashamed and lost after Game of Thrones ended -#they did SUCH a bad job that the entire community just... vanished.#where beforehand people would have GoT weddings #we are just animals who love stories and love feeling like we speak the same language #btw i am not on twitter so i hadn't seen some of the shit she was doing #and then when i was 19 she published the ''american school'' hogwarts stuff #and was reading it casually bc again a huge nerd #and in it shes like ''the british taught the natives their more civilized magics''#and that was like..................... oh okay. okay. so.....

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declareqenius · 2 months

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all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

#wandanat x reader #some would sing and some would scream #some of you might be mad about the ending #HOWEVER #nat needed that so badly guys #reader will play peacemaker eventually i promise

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delusionalfanficwriter · 4 months

Text

accident

The morning sun cast a soft glow over the streets of Seattle as Y/N drove to her training session for USWNT. The familiar scent of coffee filled the air, but her mind was focused on the upcoming game and the challenges that lay ahead. As she approached an intersection, the traffic light turned red, forcing her to come to a stop.

Just as the light turned green, Y/N accelerated, her mind still occupied with thoughts of tactics and strategy for the game. The intersection was busy, cars moving in various directions. However, in the blink of an eye, a distracted driver ran a red light, colliding with Y/N's car from the side.

The impact sent Y/N's car spinning, metal crunching against metal. The sudden jolt left her disoriented, the world spinning around her. As the chaos unfolded, she heard the distant wail of sirens, and through the haze, she saw the familiar faces of Maya hopping out of the fire truck and the Station 19 team rushing to the scene before her eyes started to close shut.

Maya takes in the scene, her eyes fall on the license plate number she has seen dozens of times. Her mind jumps to y/n, who she knows is in Seattle for the game coming up later in the week. The y/n who she and Carina took under their wing after she showed up several times to clinic days. They opened their home for her until she was steady enough to be on her own and when she isn’t with USWNT she is home in the UK playing for Arsenal.

Panic and concern etched across her face, as she sprinted towards Y/N's car. Reaching the damaged vehicle, she instantly saw y/n out cold. Reaching for the door handle, it wouldn’t budge. “Fuck! Guys it’s y/n. We need the jaws of life to remove the door and maybe even windshield for more access.” Travis went to grab it as Warren and Andy came with the med bag as they were on Aid car 19. “Y/n, I’m not sure if you can hear me but I need you to try to open your eyes. It’s Maya. You are going to be okay.”

Maya makes the decision to break the backseat window and enter through there before crawling front to the passenger seat. Andy did the same but remained behind y/n as she helped stabilize her neck with a c-collar after Maya checked for a pulse.

With all the hands touching her, y/n started to stir awake, moaning in pain. “Shhh. Y/n, it’s going to be okay, just try to remain still for us.”

Hearing the familiar voice, y/n turned her head as much as possible with the collar on to the source. “Cap…” She whispered.

“Hey there, kiddo. You took quite a big hit. Andy and I are in the car with you. Can you tell me if you are in pain and where?” Maya scans over y/n as y/n thinks the question through.

“Um. My head is pounding and the light makes it worse. Chest might be bruised… Maya…” y/n’s facial expression changes into a panicked one.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?... Y/n talk to me…”

“...legs… I- I can’t feel my legs. Maya- no no…” Y/n begins to spiral as realization hits her.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me and breathe. We will figure it out but don’t focus on that right now. I need you to get your breathing under control.”

Warren assisted Travis in preparing the jaws of life while Maya focused on Y/N's immediate needs. Andy opened the med bag, retrieving equipment to monitor vital signs.

"Y/N, I need you to stay with me. Andy's going to monitor your vital signs, and we'll make sure you're as comfortable as possible," Maya explained, her voice a steady presence in the chaos. “Nice deep breaths.”

Andy secured an IV line, administering fluids to address potential shock. Maya continued to assess Y/N's chest and abdomen, searching for any signs of internal injuries.

"Good job, Andy. Let's keep an eye on those vitals. Y/N, I need you to let me know if anything feels off or if the pain increases," Maya directed, her focus unwavering. “Y/n pay attention to me. Eyes on me. We will worry about your legs when we pull you out.”

“Cap, my legs are everything. You know that.”

“I know, Y/n, I promise I know.” Maya is reminded of how soccer saved Y/N life and helped lift her from her rough past.

As Maya reassured Y/N, the situation took a dire turn. A faint hissing sound emerged from beneath the wreckage, followed by the acrid smell of gas. Maya's heart sank as she realized the danger they were in.

"Warren, Travis, we've got a gas leak! We need to get Y/N out of here, now!" Maya's voice cut through the chaos, urgency evident in every word. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, the team intensified their efforts.

Travis and Warren redoubled their efforts with the jaws of life, while Andy swiftly prepared Y/N for extraction, mindful of the looming threat of fire. Maya coordinated the rescue operation with precision, her training kicking in as she assessed the risks and devised a plan.

Suddenly, a spark ignited the volatile atmosphere, and flames erupted, engulfing the front of the car. Time seemed to slow as panic surged through the team. Without hesitation, Maya made a split-second decision.

"Grab Y/N, we're getting her out, now!" Maya commanded, her voice unwavering despite the inferno raging around them. With synchronized movements, Andy and Maya carefully lifted Y/N, their actions swift yet deliberate.

“Stop it-it hurts! Maya, stop!” Y/n screamed and cried as her body was hastily carried out of the vehicle.

“I’m sorry, Y/n but we need to leave now!” Maya screamed over the chaos. As they lifted y/n out and placed her on the stretcher, they ran as Vic and Jack foamed over the gas leak.

“Leah… I was on a call with Leah before.” Y/n suddenly remembered having her girlfriend on the other end of the line before the crash.

“Don’t worry, I will call her, right now.” Maya climbed into the back of the ambulance, her eyes never leaving Y/N. "You're doing great, Y/N. We're right here with you," she said, her voice filled with reassurance.

Andy followed suit, bringing the medical bag and equipment into the confined space of the ambulance. Y/N's eyes darted between Maya and Andy, seeking comfort in their familiar faces amidst the uncertainty.

“Speaking of the devil, Leah is facetiming me.” Maya says unlocking her phone but as the ambulance doors closed, Y/N's panic resurfaces. The confined space and the realization of the severity of the situation weighed heavily on her. "Maya, I can't... I can't breathe. It's too much," Y/N gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Maya quickly grabbed an oxygen mask from the medical bag. "Y/N, slow your breathing. This will help," she said, placing the mask gently over Y/N's face. "Deep breaths. In and out."

“What’s happening? Maya what happened to Y/n?!” Leah yelled through the phone panicked by Y/n’s panic.

“Y/n look who I have on the phone, wanting to see you.” Maya tries to distract the woman in front of her. Y/n pauses for a second to see her blurred girlfriend on the screen.

“Baby, you’re going to be okay, Maya is with you and I am sure Carina will meet you in the hospital. I’ll be on the next plane over.” Leah reassured y/n.

“Leahhh,” Y/n cried. “I can’t - can’t feel my legs. I’m so scared.” Leah pauses and a panic look crosses over her eye but she tries to remain as calm as possible.

“Wait until the doctor’s check you out, it could just be from slight inflammation. Just focus on what Maya says. She is with you and looks like Andy is there too. You are gonna be fine, baby just remain calm.”

“Leah, we are pulling into the ambulance bay in a minute so I am going to hang up and get her sorted for the medical staff. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” Maya tells Leah knowing how protective she is of her girlfriend. With that Leah gives another word of love to Y/n before canceling the call.

“I texted Carina as well, I am not sure if she’s in surgery or not but she’ll come to find us once she sees it.” Maya informs y/n knowing she is able to calm down more when Carina is around. “We are almost there, but it’s going to get chaotic. Just breathe, it’ll be alright.”

The ambulance pulls up and doors open to reveal Amelia, Bailey, Kepner, Teddy, and Carina.

“What do we have?” Bailey starts.

“23 year old female in a MVC, airbags deployed, head laceration, possible spinal injury, she says she can’t feel her legs. C-spine precaution taken. Y/n had two panic attacks already and is in pain but no pain meds given as unknown head trauma...” Andy trails off.

“Alright, trauma 2.”

Y/n is rolled in as everyone takes on a role and several hands are trying to assess her injuries to the full extent. Y/n takes her deep breaths as she reminds herself they are here to help her.

In the entrance of the room Maya whispers to Carina, “Carina, she said she can’t feel her legs. I tried to stay calm for her but it’s never good. She was freaking out…”

A loud groan of pain takes them out of their moment as they see they have turned y/n on her side to check her back before placing her back down. Amelia does a head work up and then moves down to y/n’s legs. Carina steps closer to y/n for support as Amelia asks her if she can feel her touching her feet.

“I can’t feel it.” Amelia moves up the leg and to the knee. “Nothing.” Amelia moves mid-thigh. “I barely feel that.”

“Okay, don’t worry, we will get a CT scan and check you out. Might just be inflammation on the spine that will go away.” Amelia reassured the girl Carina took under her wing.

“And what if it doesn’t,” Y/n asks the question she knows the answer to.

“Let’s see what the scans say and we will take it from there.” Amelia places her hand on Y/n’s hand but she pulls away.

“I’m going to be sick.” With that, y/n turns her body as much as possible and only dry heaves.

“Bambina, you are stressing yourself out. I know you are worried about playing soccer, hell even walking but one thing at a time. You can’t think of what ifs. I am here now. I will make sure things are in order. Maya and I will be there for you every step of the way. I am going to need you to practice the breathing exercises. I don’t want them to sedate you but if your panic gets in the way…”

“No, no I promise.” Y/n cuts her off and closes her eyes trying to regulate her breathing. The team talks to her about the next steps of imaging and makes her a priority case.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #uswnt fanfic #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #carina deluca #maya bishop #station 19 #greys anatomy #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #andy herrera

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talewrites · 1 month

Text

Fragile Part 8

Sorry for the long wait! This is a shorter chapter, because I’m making a poll!! :] Please go vote how you would like this story to end!!

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The brothers burst into the lair. They rushed past Splinter and April, who gasped when she saw you. You hung limply in Raphael’s arms. They quickly took you straight to the lab, where Raphael gingerly laid you down on the large table underneath bright lights. Donnie slid on his goggles and checked you, and cursed under his breath.

“Shit. Their blood pressure is extremely low.” He rifled through drawers and cabinets, grabbing various bottles and tools. Donnie filled a syringe with a clear fluid from a small glass bottle and brought it over to you. “Stockman took a lot of their blood. And if I’m not mistaken, they were fed a variation of barbiturates through the second IV in their back.”

“What does that do?” Leo placed his hands on the table at your side, looking across as Donnie rolled your broken arm facing up so he could slide in the needle and administer the injection. April, Splinter, and Mikey all waited by the door.

“Well, it has a highly sedative effects in large doses. That, and combined with the chemical soup that filled their tank, ….they’re starting to slip into an artificial coma.”

All eyes in the room went wide with shock. Raph turned away from the table and stormed over to the wall and punched the brick. Hard.

“And what do we gotta do to stop it?!” He said gritting his teeth.

Mikey rushed over to your side past Leo and picked up your hand, pleading with you.

“Come on babycakes! Snap out of it! We still gotta make fudge brownies together!!”

Leo placed a comforting hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Donnie?” Leo asked.

Donnie rubbed a hand tiredly across his face. “There’s not much I can do until I fully assess their injuries. I just administered some pain killers. They’re not strong enough to handle stimulants right now. Administering adrenaline like April did with us will only make their injuries worse.”

Everyone looked solemn. Leo was looking down thinking back to the lab where they found you. Trying to figure out if there was anything they missed. That’s when he noticed a purple splotch peaking out from underneath your shirt. He narrowed his eyes and reached out to touch you.

“Leo, what-?” Donnie swallowed his words as Leo lifted up your shirt marginally, and the blackened canvas of purple and blue skin was revealed decorating your stomach.

Leo let your shirt slip from his finger and his hand fell to his side, tightening his fist. His hands trembled with rage.

They all did.

“Bebop and Rocksteady….” Mikey said lowly. His expression hard and serious.

“Those bastards-” Raph was standing by the head of the table. Looking down and clenched his fists.

Donnie’s eyes looked far away as he reached out and hesitated to touch you.

“This is…. really bad.” Donnie’s hand trembled as he traced your stomach, pressing down in certain spots to feel the damage. Even while sedated with drugs and heavy pain killers you still winced at the probing.

“Three, no- Four broken ribs. Damage to the liver, spleen, and small intestine.”

Mikey turned and left the room silently at hearing Donnie’s report. April followed after him to comfort him. Splinter was standing in the doorway with a heavy frown.

Leo swallowed his anger and looked up at Donnie.

“How do we treat them.”

Donnie turned away.

“They need a blood transfusion.”

“But that’s-!” Raph cut in.

“I know. That’s why I’ll ask April and Casey to test their blood first. But most likely-“

“It’ll be from one of us.” Leo finished for him.

Raph looked between the two and stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”

“No, I will. It’s my turn to step up.” Leo looked from Raph to Donnie and nodded his head, then walked out of the room. April passed him by as she walked over to Donnie. She asked him what materials they needed her to pick up from their connection at the hospital, and Donnie started writing her a list. Raphael was assigned to go with her for protection and heavy lifting in case the Foot were out looking for them, and Mikey was sent to go meet up with Casey and bring him back to the lair after his meeting with the NYPD supervisor.

No less than 30 minutes later, Donnie had your forearm and ankle in casts, and two ice packs covering your stomach. Mikey had brought a clean pillow from his room to slide under your head. It was confirmed after some testing that Casey and April’s blood were not compatible with the mutagen in your blood stream. You needed mutant blood to stabilize the transfusion.

You needed their blood to save your life.

Donnie was rushing to get the IV set up. By now you were breathing hard with a slight fever, skin cool to the touch despite the heavy blankets they covered you with.

“If we wait any longer there’s a chance they’ll go into shock!” Donnie said as he wiped down your arm with an alcohol wipe.

“And you said that our mutagen will help them, right?” Leo confirmed, sitting at your bedside with the other half of the IV already set up.

“I said it will give them a boost to heal faster, but we don’t know if it will destabilize their mutation or not. We have a higher concentration of mutagen in our blood than they do. If their antibodies can’t handle the shift, they could end up overwhelmed and mutate like Stockman did.”

“So there’s a risk they’ll end up like us?!” Raph protested. He was worried.

“But their body will reject the human blood because of their mutated antibodies, like you guys. We don’t have any other options.” Casey reasoned with him.

“I don’t want (y/n) to die. I’d rather they live and hate us than die when we could’ve saved them.” Mikey said sadly from the table he was sitting on at the other side of the lab.

“They’ll understand, Mikey. Don’t worry, we’re all here for them.” Assured April.

“We must have hope. Their safe recovery is what is most important.” Splinter said in contemplation.

“It’s a risk we have to take.” Donnie affirmed. He locked eyes with each of his brothers, Splinter, April, and Casey, and once he got nods of approval from everyone, he inserted your IV.

“Now, we wait.”

Vote at the poll!!!

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#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse leonardo #bayverse michelangelo #tmnt fanfic #tmnt imagines #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader

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writing-for-marvel · 9 months

Text

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

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wonderlandwalker · 3 months

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One Day at a Time | Finnick Odair x Reader

Previous Part / THG Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: a short collection of sweet moments shared between you and Finnick as you recover, reminding the both of you of the love you share

(part 4 of the remember series but could also be read on its own I think, you can find the other parts in my masterlist)

Content Warnings / Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of punching, I really think that's it.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry it took so long my only excuse is that I am an absolute mess of a human being which is a terrible one but oh well. This will be the final part of the series, hope the fluff makes up for all the heartbreak I've put you through <3

It's been a week now, one week of blissful moments spend with Finnick while recovering from the attack within district 13. After all that had happened you were in need of some peace, and the universe granted it.

On the first day you were still in the hospital wing, an IV dripping steady fluids into your system. You woke up to Finnick sitting next to you, one of his hands holding onto yours while the other was holding up a book. It was one of your favourites, and you had been pestering him about reading it so you could talk about it with him, but he had always brushed you off, saying he'd get around to it eventually. It seems eventually finally came around. You coaxed him into getting in the bed with you, he was hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt you, but he wasn't above your charms either, your eyes pleading with him in a way he couldn't resist. He had settled in behind you, letting you lean against him, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gave you. You had asked him to read to you, and even though you already knew it by heart, his sweet voice added a whole new element to the story so beloved.

The second day was spent trying to convince the nurse to let you leave the hospital room, if only for a few hours, she didn't initially want to agree, but Finnick simply wouldn't drop the subject. So you walked together towards the dinner hall, feeling like little children sneaking out past the curfew.

Supper had already finished, but Finnick was friends with one of the cooks who let him into the kitchens. He told you to sit down on the table in the middle of the room and gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving over to the fridge. It was simple, it wasn't much, but it was perfect. He would let you taste the dish in-between steps, always forgetting one ingredient or another, but you didn't mind reminding him. At some point you could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, but maybe he was just too caught up in having you there with him again. You offered to help with meting the butter, dicing the vegetables, stirring the sauce, but each and every time he would insist you stayed right where you were, accentuated with a quick kiss, his hands on your face smearing flour all over your jaw, not that you minded. He claimed he was the better cook anyway, that you'd only hold him back, now that one you both knew was a lie, but it was a precious one, one that didn't need to be disturbed.

Day three consisted of a slow day back in your room, having been cleared by the doctor and finally being in your own space again. You and Finnick hadn't shared a room in a while now with everything that had gone down, but you had immediately decided to spend your nights together again, not wanting to spend more time apart than necessary. You hadn't fully recovered yet, still needing your rest, but Finnick had set his mind on moving your things back into his room today.

So there you were, sitting crossed legged on his bed absentmindedly sipping on some coffee he had brought you as you watched him bustle about. He was only gone a few minutes at a time, but you never failed to produce a smile when you saw him approaching again, hands full with some of your books, the collection of flowers he had given you over the years that you had dried and pressed in-between the pages were sticking out slightly, but he handled them with care. Even while you weren't together you couldn't find it ins yourself to get rid of them, and you're glad of it now. He goes back and forth for a while, collecting your pillow, your skin care products, your small radio that barely managed to get a reception down here, but you couldn't bare to part with. Each time he'd ask you where you wanted him to put it down, carefully creating a space that consisted of the both of you.

On day four you had finally woken up in his arms again, wondering how you could have ever forgotten this feeling. When he noticed you were awake he had moved to place a delicate kiss on your lips, basking in the simplicity of the fact that he could. He had told you he had a surprise for you today, and you couldn't help how giddy you already got from the mere thought of what it could be. But it was oh so much better than you could have imagined, because today Finnick took you to the surface. How he managed to get you past all the checkpoints was beyond you, and when you asked he had simply said he had friends in all the right places.

It was a bit of a walk to the spot he wanted to take you, but you revelled in the sunlight against your face, needing to squint your eyes to see properly with how bright the sun was but too blissed to care. The high grass rustled against your bare legs as you continued to walk, and the tickling sensation brought back so many fond memories. When you finally made it to the clearing it was a sight from a dream. The tree next to the lake provided a shadow you could both comfortably lay in as the smell of the fresh water blessed your senses once more. The wildflowers adorning the space around you were once you could recall from back home, with a few others you couldn't identify. Finnick had picked a few, placing them behind your ear as he talked about what the flower meant. A myosotis, he had called it, representing true love and dedication. He told you about the myth behind the forget-me-nots, how they had been afraid of being forgotten by the gods, and you had vowed in return to never spend a day without thinking of him again.

During the fifth day you didn't do much of anything special, but you supposed that depends on your definition of the word. Finnick had made dandelion tea from flowers he had collected yesterday, the familiar taste bringing back a sense of nostalgia for a time that you wouldn't be able to return to. You had once told him your mother used to make it when you were sick, and ever since he would go collect them by the cliffs for you. You had insisted it was too much work that he didn't need to worry himself with, he had countered that he enjoyed the view where they grew anyway, and really, he was going for himself as much as for you. Maybe he had simply been trying to get you to stop fussing over the subject, maybe it had really been true.

You spend the day talking to your friends, reminiscing in regained memories and filling in gaps that you couldn't on your own. As you sat next to Johanna she talked on about the days Finnick spent longing after you, claiming he was alright wirh being just friends, but she was convinced that if any of her friends looked at her the way he looked at you she would have suckerpunched them.

On the sixth day you had begged Finnick train with you, saying how you wanted to get your strength back, how you missed the exercise and the content feeling of aching muscles. He had been reluctant, of course he had been, but once you had managed to drag him onto the training mat he revelled in it. He couldn't deny he had missed sparring with you, the action so effortless with you. He had made fun of how you threw your punches, saying you had to extent your arms further to complete the motion, but he was the one not protection his core properly while fixating on you. It had been good to feel your body in motion again, he was still stronger than you, knocking the breath out of your lungs once be stopped holding back, but you were still faster, getting the drop on him in the split seconds he was distracted. The manner in which your muscle memory still held up, the way in which you still used the same techniques without meaning to, it was good to know there are some things people can't take from you.

The seventh day you picked your routine back up. Waking up to an empty bed but not lonely, his side was still warm as you rolled over. Once you opened your eyes you saw the cup of coffee and the note on the bedside table. Finnick knew you never slept for long after he left, somehow he still knew. He had been given some time off during your recovery, but district 13 didn't stand still and they had needed his help. You weren't expected back yet, but the sense of purpose was one that you were always glad to have. You drank the coffee he left you as you got dressed, smiling as he had made it exactly to your liking, even if he used to complain you couldn't even call it coffee anymore with that much sugar in it. And so you went back to work, moving to scribble a quick message on the back of the note if he came back looking for you, not that he needed it, somehow he would always know where you were.

In the past week you had learned that a love as great as the one you shared with Finnick could never be forgotten, not really, because no matter how many memories faded, there would always come new ones. And soon, even though you didn't know it yet, Finnick would give you his mother's ring once more, and this time you would remember everything that led you here, and you would remember saying yes.

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oliversrarebooks · 11 days

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corporate retreat 3/4

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: brainwashing, drugging, dehumanization, hypnosis, amnesia

"Quinn? Can you open your eyes for me, please?"

Somehow, they managed to get their eyes cracked slightly open. The lights in the room had mercifully been dimmed, and everything seemed fuzzy and indistinct.

"Good. Follow the penlight with your eyes, please."

Quinn did their best, but it all seemed like a big confusing blur.

"Reactions very slow but perceptible. Subject just barely able to respond to stimuli. Twilight sleep state achieved. Based on the results of the tests and their psychological makeup… recommend… and fifty milliliters… around two hours…"

Quinn felt the mask being taken off their face, and the cool rush of fresh air untainted by sedatives was a relief. They cracked their eyes open again as their arm was grasped by one of the assistants. She wiped the inside of their elbow with a cotton swab soaked in cool liquid, and then began to insert an IV line. They were still far too out of it, their limbs much too heavy, to resist.

The IV line was attached to a big bag of light blue fluid. Quinn watched as the drug went drip-drip-drip down the tube and into their arm. The assistant used the IV port to inject a dose of what looked like the same drug.

"We'll give you a little time to adjust to the new medication," said Dr. Moon. "You can just relax."

They assumed they were going to be put back to sleep, but instead they just lay there, staring at the slow drip of blue liquid, in a kind of tranquilized daze. Whatever this new drug was, it wasn't bad. They couldn't remember the last time they had felt so peaceful. Actually, they were feeling pretty good. The all-consuming sleepiness they'd felt from the gas had melted away into a drowsy calm, and their thoughts were gradually returning.

"Quinn? Are you awake? How are you feeling?"

Quinn turned lazily to Dr. Moon. "Good. Really, really drowsy… but good," they said.

"That's excellent to hear," Dr. Moon said. "You're on the good stuff now. We gathered enough data to understand how best to adjust your mind."

"The good stuff…" Quinn's gaze traveled back to the IV line. "What is it?"

"We like to call it cleaning fluid -- but don't be alarmed. It's a nickname, because it's for washing your brain." She laughed. "We have many different components we can use to make it. It's highly customized for the individual, their needs, and our needs."

They really couldn't have been alarmed even if they tried. "What's in mine?"

"Cleaning fluid always starts with Influence Serum. That's our proprietary control medication that removes your mental defenses and inhibitions and increases suggestibility, leaving your mind delightfully pliant and malleable. Then we add Liquid Lullaby -- that's what's keeping you drowsy and docile," she explained. "Your custom mixture also has Pacifier, our anti-anxiety agent, and a little False Paradise, to induce mild euphoria. Plus a few interesting other traces."

"That seems like… a lot of drugs."

"Don't worry, it's especially formulated for you, and completely harmless," she said. "You were so anxious coming here, weren't you?"

"Yeah," they agreed without hesitation.

"And you seem so exhausted. Aren't you exhausted from all the work you do?"

"Yeah, I am."

"And I bet you're so tired of thinking, too. Solving problems. Making decisions. Your poor, tired mind needs a break from all of that."

She was right, that sounded heavenly. What had they even been so worried about? The Brainwashing Department was so nice, and Dr. Moon was so friendly and helpful. "Yeah, I guess I really did need a break." They relaxed into the comfortable chair, resting their arm with the IV on the armrest. Dr. Moon was right. These drugs really were the good stuff.

"Well, it's a good thing you've got a month long vacation, then, isn't it?" said Dr. Moon.

Quinn smiled. "I can't believe it, but I'm actually glad I came here."

"Oh, that's just so lovely to hear you say! I really do think we do great work here. We help people," she said. "And I've got another treat in store for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I'm going to turn on the screen and you're going to watch a fun movie for the next couple of hours. It's going to hypnotize you and help you be so obedient. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Um…" Quinn furrowed their brows. They dimly remembered that they hadn't wanted that, but they didn't really feel like making a fuss when instead they could just relax in a blissful daze.

"Great, let's get you all situated." Dr. Moon reclined their chair a little bit more, then turned on the screen and placed it in front of Quinn's face.

The screen burst to life with a pulsating rainbow spiral, one that drew Quinn's eyes right to the center as the colors shifted and swirled. They couldn't look away. They didn't want to. Something about it was so, so… compelling… like it was the greatest and most fascinating thing Quinn had ever seen, like they could watch it forever.

"There we go. Just watch the spiral. You're too sleepy to resist, aren't you?"

"I'm… I'm not…"

"Oh yes you are. You're much too sleepy to resist."

"I'm… too sleepy to resist…" Quinn heard themself agree.

"The spiral is going to open your mind up very nicely," she said. "You're going to keep your heavy eyes open and watch the spiral, but your mind is going to go to sleep, okay? Deep, deep sleep… a deep hypnotic sleep where you can listen and absorb everything."

They could feel it. They could feel themselves falling asleep in the heart of the pulsating spiral. "I can listen…"

"So obedient, aren't you? Just like you should be. What an excellent subject."

Quinn couldn't help but smile. "…Thank you…"

"Oh, you like the praise, don't you? You're the type that wants to get a good grade in being brainwashed."

It felt like so long since they'd done anything right, really. "Yeah…"

Dr. Moon draped a warm blanket over Quinn's body. "Then be a good little test subject for me, stare in to the pretty spiral, and let yourself be hypnotized."

Quinn nodded slowly. They didn't want to do anything else. They felt a pair of headphones being slipped over their ears. Through them, they could hear soft music playing and Dr. Moon's voice coaxing them to fall asleep, to be obedient and docile, to love the experience of being brainwashed.

They were much, much too sleepy to resist. Besides, they wanted to please Dr. Moon.

They should just listen, let Dr. Moon do all the thinking for them, and fall deep into trance.

"Sleep and obey…" they heard their own voice saying. "Deeper asleep and deeper entranced… too sleepy to resist… I love being brainwashed… I must obey Dr. Moon…"

Their eyelids were getting heavier again, the entrancing spiral a colorful blur, as they repeated the mantras and fell so deep into hypnotic sleep.

They weren't sure how long they remained there, eyes half-open, staring into the spiral. Time seemed to have no meaning. It could've been five minutes and it could've been five months.

"…so happy that you were brainwashed. Three. You'll be docile and obedient. Two. You'll be relaxed and refreshed. And one. You can open your eyes and wake."

Quinn opened their eyes just as the screen turned off, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They felt so, so utterly relaxed, like they'd just had the world's finest spa treatment. Like that was the first really good sleep they'd had in years.

They were still in their chair in the clinical room. The machines were quietly beeping, and the bag of drugs attached to the IV looked mostly empty. They were more than content to just rest for a while and see what would happen next, floating in a cloud of bliss.

It didn't take long before Dr. Moon entered. "Why, hello Quinn. Welcome back to the waking world. Did you have a good nap?"

"The best," they said. "I feel amazing."

"Oh, I'm so glad. You really needed that sleep and mental readjustment," said Dr. Moon. "Here, have some water and a nutrition bar."

Quinn eagerly took the food and water. It hadn't really been something they had thought about, but they actually were hungry.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" asked Dr. Moon.

"It was wonderful," said Quinn. "It feels so right to be hypnotized and not have to think for myself. I didn't realize how badly I needed that."

"Oh, you're such a model subject. I think you might be one of my favorites," said Dr. Moon as Quinn beamed in pride. "You're taking to the brainwashing so, so well. I agree, I really think it's exactly what you needed. And you're going to get another round with a new movie -- but first I wanted to give you a little break."

"Thank you," said Quinn through a mouthful of nutrition bar. They couldn't wait to see what the new movie would be like.

"First, though…" Dr. Moon nonchalantly pulled a capped syringe from her lab coat pocket, injecting the contents into the IV line. "We call this one Loose Lips. It's a truth serum. You're probably too hypnotized to really need it, but I want to make sure you're completely honest with me when I ask you embarrassing and invasive questions about your personal life."

Quinn nodded. "That makes sense."

"First off, how do you feel about your boss?"

They frowned, annoyance just barely managing to push through their drugged calm. "She's driving me insane with their unreasonable demands. She's constantly calling me in to work on nights and weekends because we're so short-staffed, and then she acts like it's my fault that I'm burned out. She wastes my time with boring, pointless meetings, and when there's some kind of problem, she micromanages me and keeps asking for status updates when I just need to concentrate on fixing it." The grievances poured out of their mouth easily.

"That sounds really rough," said Dr. Moon sympathetically. "You should tell me everything you know about your boss. I'm very interested. And after that, maybe you can tell me all about your insecurities, secret fantasies, and embarrassing fetishes."

"Sure!" said Quinn, so eager to be obedient and useful.

Dr. Moon questioned Quinn for a while, and Quinn found that they could answer all of their questions easily and in great depth without a hint of shame. It was really nice to be able to speak so freely. Dr. Moon was such a kind, understanding person.

"You've done so well for me," said Dr. Moon. "I couldn't ask for a better test subject. I think it's time for you to get another round of brainwashing, don't you think?"

"Yes, please!" said Quinn with a big smile. "I'm so lucky that I get to spend an entire month in the Brainwashing Department. Do you think I could transfer permanently?"

"I think that would be an excellent idea. We'll see. But for now, I need to change out your IV medication, okay?" Dr. Moon switched the nearly empty bag for a full one. "This formulation is a little different. I've reduced the Liquid Lullaby and added a little River Lethe. That's our best and most gentle amnestic -- a medication that interferes with memory formation and produces amnesia."

"Amnesia…?" said Quinn, feeling a strange bit of anxiety, the first they'd felt since waking.

"You'll be less sleepy this time, but don't worry, you'll be every bit as hypnotized and blissed-out. You're not going to remember the next few hours, though. You probably won't remember much of this conversation, either," said Dr. Moon. "This new medication will leave you feeling pretty fuzzy for a while after your treatment, too. Is all of that okay with you?"

The anxiety was dissolved by their desire to please the doctor. "Of course it's okay. Whatever you think is best." The new drug was already dripping steadily into their veins. It was strange to think that it was already at work in their brain, that they wouldn't be able to remember any of this.

"Then you can just sit back and enjoy your new favorite TV show," said Dr. Moon, turning the screen on again. This time, it was a scene of slow moving clouds floating by.

Quinn barely noticed when Dr. Moon dimmed the lights and left the room, the drugs and the voices in their headphones already turning their mind into useless mush, fit only to listen and obey. After all, they were so sleepy, and the hypnotic program was far too good to resist.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

#whump #whump writing #hypnosis #brainwashing #drugging #corporate retreat

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aealzx · 6 months

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Working on Raph’s leg with Don was a fascination that left Leon grinning constantly behind his surgical mask. He’d seen so many videos, but those didn’t compare to the real thing. And with Don there almost all of the stress of the procedure was gone. Pushing back the muscle, clamping it in place, using saline to clean the wound and critically inspect it for residual debris. All the while Don was calmly talking him through the steps, letting Leon learn at the same time. It took hours to get the injury clean, stabilized, packed with antibiotics, and wrapped up, but Leon hardly noticed. Even the enthusiastic chatter beyond the curtain couldn’t distract him from Don’s directions.

“Aaaand we’re done,” Don’s concluding comment came as soon as Leon secured the final bandage wrapping in place. It was such a stark contrast from before to have the clean, beige colored bindings around Raph’s now straight leg, but Leon was mostly feeling like they hadn’t spent nearly enough time to fix that mess.

“Wait- really?” Leon asked, gaze snapping up to look at Don.

Don could only chuckle, having been incredibly impressed by Leon’s single minded focus the entire time. He was hardly surprised at the question now. “Yes- But! Let’s clean up everything else before we pull the curtain down. Okay?” he confirmed, reaching out a hand to block Leon from snatching the curtain excitedly, then gesturing to the bloodied mess of tools around them.

“O’oh… Right,” Leon laughed weakly, the mess fully registering in his mind now as he looked around. It could have been a lot worse, but it would probably still be alarming for others to see. At least it didn’t take too long to clean up the area. The tools and other bloodied items were placed in a bin to take back to the sinks to be washed and sterilized. Then the areas that couldn’t be moved easily were wiped down with antiseptic soaked cloths, and their surgical coverings taken off. Only then did Don give Leon the go ahead to pull the curtain back.

Beaming with an excited smile, Leon poked his head around to look at the others. “Hey Raphie,” he beckoned, noting how April was dozing like a cat curled up around Raph’s head as he and Raphael were a little more quietly watching movies on a tablet Leo had fetched for them.

“Yeah?” Raph asked immediately, shifting his gaze over to Leon. He was exhausted, it was easy to tell. But Leon was expecting that considering none of them had really had proper sleep in the past day and more.

Flinging the curtain aside with a dramatic flair, keeping it held out of the way, Leon beamed proudly. “All done!” he chimed.

Raph took a moment to fully register what Leon was showing him, but then twitched into a half sit up with a small gasp. “Ohmigosh, Raph’s okay!�� Raph hushed, sitting up fully and awkwardly jerking his still numb leg towards himself. “I hardly noticed. That’s amazing Leo!”

The movement roused April fully out of her dose, and she quickly oriented herself with a glance around before focusing on the bandages as well. “Woah! Heeeyy lookit that big guy!” April added to the cheers, wrapping her arms around Raph’s bicep and shaking him a little.

“Heheee,” Leon chuckled, rubbing his nose and basking in the praise. “Just be careful still. You still shouldn’t walk on it, so we’ll have to find some crutches for you. How are you feeling?”

“...Mostly just hungry now,” Raph admitted, giving a sheepish smile. His leg didn’t hurt, he couldn’t even feel it. And the medicine and IV fluids helped the fever and rest of his aches. Now he just needed to fill his empty stomach. And probably get some sleep. “And sleepy,” he added, ending up causing himself to yawn after voicing the feeling.

“That’s good. We’ll see about getting you to a bed, and get some food for you,” Leon chuckled, ignoring his own stomach protesting its gaping emptiness.

“Allow me to be of assistance with that.”

The new voice caused the three newest visitors to whip their heads towards the entrance of the infirmary where Leatherhead and Mikey were entering with trays full of food in various dishes. Leatherhead had been the one to speak, and definitely caught the teens’ attention.

“WOAH!” April blurted.

“Ohmigosh you’re STILL SO COOL!” Leon gushed, being kept in place only by politeness and his irritated knee. He remembered Leatherhead from when he first got there, but he hadn’t been able to appropriately address him then.

“Ohhhhh…. You’re bigger than Raph is,” Raph noted, a coo very similar to Lil Mikey’s leaving his mouth as his eyes also shined with awe.

Leatherhead could only chuckle in mildly confused embarrassment, not used to people being drawn to him favorably in any manner. Normally people were either scared of him, or aggressive towards him. It was a lovely change, even if he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Sounds like we have perfect timing. Who’s ready for… well I guess it’s breakfast now, huh?” Mikey chimed in, laughing at the kids’ antics towards their friend. They must not be used to seeing a crocodile mutant. “I was starting to get worried all my work was gonna go to waste. I had to warm it back up,” Mikey chuckled, pausing at an unmarked distance away from the surgery area. He’d been scolded too many times by Don for bringing food where surgery was done.

“You wanna get the kid this time, Leatherhead? I can take the food,” Raphael offered, getting to his feet to take the tray. He could easily lift Raph, but he still understood it would probably be more comfortable for him if someone the same size or bigger than him picked him up.

“It would be my pleasure,” Leatherhead agreed, letting Raphael take the tray before approaching the others and kneeling in front of them. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. Normally I assist Donatello with surgery, but as the role was already sufficiently fulfilled I didn’t want to crowd. My name is Leatherhead. Am I correct in assuming you two are also known as Raphael and Leonardo?”

“Pff- yeah, but, Leo is fine,” Leon huffed with a smile, mildly uncomfortable with the use of his full name. “Or Nardo as Donnie likes to say. Leon. Face man. Anything but my full name. I feel like I’m in trouble.”

The response ended up earning a snicker from Raphael, giving Leo a nudge as he brought up the rear with another tray of food. “There’s a welcome change,” he teased, earning a slight glare from Leo.

“Wait- did I hear that right? Face man?” Mikey asked, excitement bubbling under the surface.

“Well yeah. Who else would you put in the front but the one with the best looks,” Leon confirmed, framing his face with his hands and raising his chin with a dashing smile.

The flaunting earned snickers from April, and a fond smile from Raph. But Raphael let out a loud honk laugh as Leo’s expression scrunched in disoriented confusion. “Oh my gosh, it’s like Leo and I got spliced!” Mikey laughed, beaming from ear to ear. “I like this Leo. I like him a lot.”

As the others messed around a little, Leatherhead looked back to April to finish introductions before he moved Raph. “May I ask your name, little miss?”

Giving a chuckle at how polite Leatherhead was, April nodded, reaching her hand out for a handshake. “Sure. April O’Neil. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leatherhead.”

The response was mildly surprising, and Leatherhead chuckled as he gently took her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss O’Neil.”

“You’re remarkably well adjusted to… all of this,” Leo admitted, rolling his head at everything since his hands were full.

“Well yeah, it’s pretty much normal for me,” April answered. “I’ve known these guys since I was eight, we grew up together. And things just kept getting crazier and crazier as we got older. Dimension hopping is probably up there with finding out we had a whole hidden city under New York. It’s just another place to go.” She gave a shrug, scooting out of the way as Leatherhead scooped Raph up after getting permission to do so from him while she had been talking to Leo.

“Oh… I see,” Leo blinked, having so many answers to unasked questions in his head given. That explained a lot about all of their behavior. “Do they… walk around on the surface then? Among people?”

“Uhhh no… Not really. We still stick to non populated areas just in case. But if we do get caught we just pretend we’re going to a science convention and they’re all dressed up in cosplay,” April explained, trying to converse with Leo but inevitably getting distracted again. “Hang on, I gotta get pics of this too,” she excused, digging her phone out of her dress pocket and scooting off the table.

Unlike the last time he’d been picked up Raph had no fear of squishing the one carrying him, and therefore was much less tense. Leatherhead had scooped him up under his knees and back, and Raph could only tuck his hands close to his chest as a big smile squished his cheeks. It was a foreign feeling, but it was actually kind of nice. Just being slung around so gently. Moving somewhere without having to go there himself. It was bringing back faint memories of Splinter carrying him to bed a very long time ago, and he felt he could understand now why his little brothers loved to climb on him so much.

“Gosh, picked up twice in one day. You’re gonna get spoiled here Raph,” Leon laughed, squeezing in next to Raph to beam a smile at the camera as April took a picture of them. Looking down at the short she got, April had to coo a little at the adorable smile and tiny wave Raph had given her. He really was enjoying himself. “You can put him with Mikey,” Leon directed, guiding Leatherhead over to where Lil Mikey was drooling on the pillow.

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I rushed a lil on the last bits of the pic so I could get it up today X'D So excuse if there are missing details |D

This was my first time drawing a crocodile face, and Leatherhead ended up looking like a nice grandpa to me X'DD oh well, I wanted him to look softer.

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cdk #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover #Leatherhead #Mikey #03 Mikey #writing #fanfic #long post

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sevcasejay1chicago · 1 year

Text

Don’t tell Jay -Jay Halstead

Summary: When you are still in pain when you should be fully recovered from surgery, you try to sneak to Med to not bother Jay. Will is not having it.

Mentions: Natalie Manning, Will Halstead, and Maggie Lockwood

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and medical talk. Nothing really.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up still in pain after tossing and turning in Jay’s arms all night, you knew you needed to go to Med. You pretended to be asleep when Jay left an hour ago, knowing he would stay home and insist on accompanying you to see Natalie. You had surgery two weeks ago today, and you FINALLY just convinced Jay to go back to work three days ago. He had been by your side for a little over a week and a half, pampering you and making sure you were healing up nicely. You loved him and appreciated him, but you could tell he was ready to climb the walls. He was a man of action and, though he loved taking care of his wife, he needed to be with his unit and in the action.

Hopping into your car, badge in your backpack even though you hadn’t been cleared for duty yet, you made your way to Med. You knew Will was most likely on shift this morning, so you prayed he wouldn’t see you. He would call Jay as soon as you were put in a room.

Walking into Med, you bypassed Leah, smiling at the receptionist and waving like nothing was wrong, and made your way toward Maggie. The charge nurse looked up as her ED doors slid open, immediately coming around the desk at the sight of you.

“Hey Y/N. Here to see your brother in law?” Maggie asked, smiling and pulling you in for a quick hug.

You mustered up the biggest smile you could and shook your head. “Actually, I need Nat.” You barely got the sentence out before Maggie was pulling you into a room.

“Sit down. You look flushed.” Maggie said, placing you on a gurney and pulling out her phone. She pressed a few buttons before placing it to her ear, balancing it with her shoulder. “Nat. I need you in treatment 4. Now.” Maggie said, waiting for a second before hanging up and taking your temp as she went. “100.” She muttered, placing the pulse ox on your finger and blood pressure cuff on, pushing the button to start it as Nat and Will walked in.

You groaned, making immediate eye contact with your brother in law. “Ah Hell.” You muttered, causing Maggie to chuckle. “Don’t call Jay.” Was your immediate reaction to his presence.

Will rolled his eyes, staying in the doorway as Nat approached you. “You know he will kill us both when he finds out.” Will replied, looking cocky cause he knows you know he’s right. “You never know when he will walk through those doors either.” He pointed out.

You nodded, throwing your head back in defeat. “Fine.” You caved, crossing your arms and looking to Nat.

“What’s goin on?” Natalie asked, coming to your side and rubbing your arm.

“I’ve got some pelvic pain. And lower back pain. It doesn’t feel normal so here I am.” You explained, gesturing around the room.

“Heart rate and BP are high. Temp of 100 and oxygen is at 95.” Maggie rattled off, looking at Natalie first and then Will.

“I’ll be back. Hang in there kiddo.” Will said, patting your leg and taking out his phone. He was gonna call Jay.

Natalie nodded and started pulling off her stethoscope. “Let me take a listen and then I wanna look at your incision site and take a feel. That okay?” Natalie asked, already adjusting her ear pieces.

You nodded and laid back, trying to relax. After taking a listen and feeling your abdomen, Natalie stepped back and grabbed the Ipad Will left for her at the foot of your bed. She typed a couple things as Maggie started an IV on you.

“I’m gonna get some blood work on you and a CT. I’ll be back in a bit. Maggie, hang fluids and give her something for the pain and a mild sedative. Jay can take her home later if all turns out well, but I think the high BP might be a stress response.” Natalie rattled off, before giving my leg a squeeze and leaving Maggie to work.

“Jay is gonna have a cow.” I muttered to Maggie as the charge nurse started to put an IV in my arm.

“Moo.” Jay deadpanned, walking in with a serious face but playful look in his eyes.

“That was fast.” I muttered as Maggie laughed at his response.

“Hailey and I were already here to check on a Vic. I was upstairs.” Jay replied, coming to sit next to you as he took your hand. “Why didn’t you call me or tell me before I left? I know you didn’t sleep well.” Jay said, nodding a thanks to Maggie as she finished up and left the room.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” I muttered, looking down and picking at the blanket Maggie had put over me at some point.

Jay sighed, figuring this would be your answer. “Hey. Look at me.” Jay waited until you looked at him, tears in your eyes as guilt flooded your system. “Listen to me. You are my wife. My first priority. You matter more than this job or anything else. You hear me? You are NEVER bothering me.” Jay said, reaching up to wipe your tears.

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. Jay reached up, gently pulling your lip down with a thumb on your chin. “Just hate this.” You sighed, wiping at your eyes. “I wanna go back to work and put this behind me.” You were beginning to get sleepy. You knew the meds were starting to take effect.

Jay sighed too, standing up and telling you to bunch over. You did as he asked, allowing him to crawl onto the gurney with you and take you into his arms. “I know baby girl. I know.” Jay muttered, leaning up to kiss your head. “But you gotta let me take care of you. The more you relax and let me take the reigns, the faster you will heal up and be back in the bullpen with the rest of us.” Jay reassured, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“Nat gave me a sedative.” You muttered, leaning your head into Jay’s chest. You were already exhausted when you came in. These meds were gonna knock you out.

Jay nodded without needing an explanation and pulled you closer, being careful of the wires. He placed a hand in your hair as he pressed the bar to recline the bed back a little bit from his position. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to recline you a little more and make you more comfortable. “Alright. Well, you just let it work. Relax, okay? I’ll be right here.” Jay said, pulling the pony tail holder out of your hair and massaging your scalp.

You hummed in response, allowing your eyes to slip closed. You knew he was disappointed that you didn’t call, but he wasn’t going to press the issue now. You were in enough pain to come in and need a sedative for what he figured was anxiety, so he wasn’t going to add any more stress into your life. He would have time to talk to you later when you were feeling better. Your heart was in the right place, but you needed to let him take care of you. After all, he made a vow and he did not intend on breaking it.

#one chicago #jay halstead #one chicago x reader #fluff #jay halstead x reader #comfort #detective jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fluff

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, mention of scars, allusions to child abuse

A/N: I feel like I say this about every chapter but I really struggled with this one. I even scrapped 3,800 words because I hated it so much. It still ended up being a long one but it feels like a lot of time skipping and nonsense. The beginning is nice though. ;) I hope it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. Thank you, my dears.💙

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Your body was on fire; electric jolts sparking with pleasure each place where his skin was touching yours. It was never like this before. It was purely physical, without attachment. Now it felt like he had integrated himself into your very soul. You wanted him deeper than his cock dragging over your inner walls; you wanted him beneath your very skin.

Each thrust was slow but deep, his back arching when he rolled his hips into you. His lips and hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was making love to you. Deliberate, delicate, yet no less exhilarating.

Your hips raised of their own volition to meet his. You were desperate to snap that inner tension; the tightly coiled heat low in your belly. Daryl had other plans. He was drawing this out. He was savoring you.

“Easy. I gotcha.” He purred against your ear just before his lips attached to the skin above where your pulse thrummed. “S’gonna feel real good. Hang on for me.” He ventured lower to draw a nipple into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue pulling a moan from you, your hands moving from his bare back to his hair and then returning. You urged him back to your mouth, whining against his smiling lips.

“Please.” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for; there was so much sensation that you couldn’t even pinpoint where you needed him most. “Please, please, please.” He chuckled and made a slow journey with his fingertips, whispering down your torso to disappear between your bodies. A calloused thumb pressed against your clit and you nearly wailed.

“That’s it. Let go for me.” His thrusts never wavered, leaving you to dimly wonder if this would be the first of many orgasms he would give you before he was chasing his own high. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You could feel your cunt clamp around him and begin to pull him impossibly deeper, preparing for your orgasm to wash over you. You were right on the edge, teetering. His lips met yours and your hips angled upward, the knot ready to burst. Just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy—

You opened your eyes to the dim light of a small lamp on the bedside table. You still felt tired when somewhere in your mind, you could recall that something happened and you should feel better. In your sleepy haze, you couldn’t seem to summon the memories. Only the residual feel of Daryl’s body pressed against yours and the pleasure he was so eagerly offering you.

“That must’ve been some dream.”

You lifted your head to find Carol sitting in a chair close to the bedside, a small smile on her face and her hands folded on her lap.

“Carol.” Your lips curved upward ever so slightly.

“So dehydrated but still able to drool so I’d say we’re making progress.” She chuckled while you dragged the back of your hand across your mouth with a curl of your lip.

“The baby okay?” You scratched at your scalp, still trying to piece together what happened that ended with you in bed and hooked up to fluids.

“Mhm. Hershel says the heartbeat is strong.” She smiled, the sadness behind her eyes more transparent than she probably realized.

“What happened?” You inquired, slowly pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard without disturbing the IV tubing. Just as her mouth opened, the memories of your rescue mission came flooding back in a breathtaking onslaught. “Oh god, Daryl!” You grabbed the blanket and threw it back, aiming to get to your feet, only halting by a gentle touch to your ankle.

“He’s in the next room. He’s gonna be fine.”

When the sudden rush evaporated, you sank back against the pillows. You had all three made it.

“He was in shock by the time you made it back. Hershel gave him some IV fluids and is going to start some antibiotics. He’s all patched up. He’ll be back to his cheery self in no time.”

You chuckled. “Just a ball of sunshine, that one.” Your smile fell away, remembering just how horrible he had looked the last time you saw him; dragging his feet along behind you. Blood dampened his shirt, his pants. He was pale as milk, dark circles under his eyes. You held on to a fragile hope that he—if nothing else—looked better after stitches and fluids. “Is he awake?”

“He was stirring a little while ago.” You nodded, picking at your left thumbnail. “I’m gonna get you some water. Maybe we can take out that IV now that you’re awake.” The other woman stood gracefully, donning her usual smile except it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Your gaze followed her out the door, your heart aching for her. She was so intent on caring for you and your baby while her own child was still missing. It was a bleak reminder of how unfair life truly was.

You inwardly sighed, your stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. How did you end up in this position? All of it. The dead rising to eat the living. Losing everyone you held dear. Making a baby with a complete stranger. And now so desperate to keep that man in your life that it frightened you. Just—how?

Everything had been so normal before. You had your routine with your father waiting at home for you everyday. You’d sit with him over a dinner that you prepared, listening to his lame jokes and laughing even harder when they weren’t funny. Your uncles and aunt would come over once every two weeks for a big supper. You’d usually save the larger kill for those occasions.

God, you missed them.

But they weren’t here now.

Daryl was. You’d be damned if you’d lose someone else.

A soft knock on the door signaled Carol’s return. She had a tray of food. Eggs, apparently. The last time, when Daryl had brought them, you had been famished and paid no mind to the smell. It was different this time, and your stomach was not pleased.

“The eggs.” You gagged, sitting up and covering your mouth and nose. Carol’s eyes widened and she swiftly put the tray outside the door and grabbed up the water glass before she shut the smell out.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I brought the pills that Maggie and Glenn were able to get. They found a few bottles so you should be set for now.” She handed you the medication and the water. Your stomach churned angrily. “I’ll see about getting Beth to make you another smoothie.”

“Thank you.” It was made clear by the expression on her face that she was worried. “I’ll be okay.” The pill had a grainy texture and left a horrible taste. You washed it down with a sip of water, but the unpleasant assault on your tastebuds continued. It would be worth it if it meant everything would stop trying to crawl out of your throat.

“I’ll get Hershel to see about that IV. Then maybe you’d like to go see Daryl?”

You gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, watching her leave to fetch the vet. Ugh. You knew he would lecture you, but you couldn’t let it sway your desire to protect your little family. That’s exactly what it was: a family. Your relationship with Daryl didn’t alter the fact that you would share a child. Co-parent. Protect one another.

A rapid knock on the door before it opened revealed the vet. “Carol tells me you’re feeling okay. Maybe we can remove your IV if you can ensure you’ll continue to take in as much water as you can.”

“I can do that.”

He studied you for a moment, as if searching for a hint that you may not follow through. Apparently satisfied that you’d heed his instructions, he rounded the bed and began working on removing the catheter from your arm. The grim expression was sign enough that you were about to be scolded. “Y/N, you understand the risks involved when you go out there.” And so it began. “This, I can’t stop you from doing but you should consider the safety of your child if nothing else.”

“No one else was going to try and find him. It was something I had to do.” You lowered your head, feeling not unlike a child who was in trouble for drawing on the walls and knowing better.

There was nothing left to say. He continued to stare for a moment after instructing you to bend your arm and hold pressure on the square of gauze he’d placed there. Perhaps, he was attempting to understand. Maybe he was judging your decision. Maybe he was even praying for you. It didn’t matter. In the end, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room.

As soon as the door closed, you tossed the gauze onto the bedside table, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The mattress acted as support while you ensured dizziness wouldn’t bombard you. Your vision stayed clear, even if your stomach was still protesting. Hopefully it would settle soon enough.

You knew Daryl would likely be across the hall. There was an anxiety at the thought of seeing him; one you couldn’t validate. You knew you wanted to go, to see with your own eyes that he was alive and healing. You chose to ignore the feeling and opened the door, pausing on the threshold when you heard his voice.

“I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t done.”

“I know.” You could see Carol step into the doorway of the adjacent room. You stepped back behind the frame of your own, feeling like an intruder. “You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” The door closed, her soft steps moving further away, most likely in route to get your smoothie.

You could absolutely throttle the redneck after hearing him downplay what he had been nearly killing himself to achieve. He had worked just as hard as anyone else in the search for Sophia. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the effort he’d put in, he was likely giving himself hell over being placed on the sidelines after his injury. There was no way Hershel was going to clear him to go back out there anytime soon.

Your bare feet barely made a sound when you crossed the space between rooms, leaning into the door with one hand on the knob while the other quietly knocked.

“Jesus, can’t a guy get some sleep ‘round here. What is it now?”

Scrunching your nose in response to his grumpy attitude, you opened the door and peered inside. He most likely wasn’t expecting you. His back was to you, the sheet up to the curve of his hips, giving you a glimpse of the deep, dark puckered lines of several scars. His skin was still pale. They likely didn’t appear so harsh against his normally tan complexion. Still…

“Hey, dumbass. How’re you feeling?” The way he flinched and clumsily gripped the thin cover to drag it up higher made your chest tighten. The reason he didn’t want to remove his shirt when you fucked; he didn’t want you see.

“Callin’ me a dumbass when you was the one came runnin’ after me all half cocked.” He mumbled, not turning to look at you. Deflecting. You decided to let it go. He was so ashamed of that part of himself. He needed to keep that secret. It wasn’t yours to know. Maybe one day.

“I could make so many jokes out of what you just said and most would be at your expense.”

“Y’can go now, funny girl.”

You crawled up onto the mattress and maneuvered your way over to where he lay, resting your chin on the curve of his shoulder while carefully avoiding adding any pressure against his wounded side.

“Don’t be such a sourpuss. You know you’re glad to see me.”

Daryl scoffed, shrugging his shoulder to jostle your head. “Pain in my ass.” You peered at his outstretched right arm, the taped tubing leading up to a bag of clear fluids, half empty. At least his skin was feeling warmer. “Y’okay?”

“I’m sure they already told you that I’m fine.” You answered softly. You resisted the urge to brush your fingers over the bandage on his head.

“Don’t matter. Better to hear it outta ya own mouth.”

You smiled. “I’m fine, Daryl. A little nauseous but Maggie and Glenn found the medicine.”

He grunted, a moment passing before he asked “baby okay?” His voice had lowered, muscles tensing beneath your chin, as if he were bracing himself for your answer.

“Mhm. Hershel checked and said the heartbeat was strong.” He relaxed almost immediately. You were once again reminded of his desire to not be touched. You had seen him flinch away from Rick and Carol. After a rare glimpse at his bare back, the fear made sense. But he saw you differently. He had chosen to accept you as safe for whatever reason. It had to be more than your willingness to spread your legs for him once upon a time not that long ago.

“That’s good.” He muttered. He sounded a little groggy.

“He give you something for the pain?” You tilted your head on his arm, your cheek lightly pressing against the muscle there.

“Mhm. Didn’t want it. Shoulda saved it.”

“Take the meds, you stubborn ass.” You nearly shoved at him, albeit playfully. It still would have caused him discomfort. His movements were stiff, the muscles rippling under your face as his hand came up to present a clear message in the form of one finger. “You’re so mature, Dixon.” You teased. “I’m so honored to be the birth giver of your spawn.” There was instant regret when you felt him flinch, tense up, and then deflate.

“M’sorry.” His voice was raspy. Tired. You didn’t hesitate to caress the white bandage over his temple this time.

“Don’t be.” You soothed, watching him battle to stay awake. “I’m not.” You glanced at the sheet covering his back, shielding his shame from you. You could see the very top of what appeared to be the aftermath of a burn. Daryl had definitely had the opposite of your childhood. Where you had love and tenderness and support, it was suggested Daryl had pain and cruelty and isolation. Somehow, you knew that he would want better for his own child.

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us.”

You brought your hand up to trace shapes onto his forearm, smiling as goosebumps rose from the gentle caress. “Daryl?”

You thought he might already be asleep, but then he drew in a breath and answered with a drawn out “hmm?”

“I really am honored.”

He went so still that he appeared to hold his breath, before he made a dismissive noise and shrugged you off of him. “Tryin’a sleep, woman.”

“Okay.” You had hit a nerve. It wasn’t like you didn’t consider the possibility he’d react negatively. “I’ll be across the hall.” You gracelessly scooted across the mattress, just having thrown your legs over the edge when there was a grip on your wrist, firm but gentle. You looked over your shoulder to find him awkwardly balanced on his right elbow while keeping the arm as straight as possible for the IV. He wasn’t looking at you but it had to hurt for him to have twisted into how he was to reach for you.

The breath he took shuddered. “Stay.”

“Alright.” Your free hand came to rest on the one that held your wrist, intending to provide comfort for a request he was obviously uncomfortable to make, but he pulled back his arm and settled against the pillow. Withholding your sigh, you settled behind him on your side, facing him but not touching.

It wasn’t difficult for sleep to find you in the dimly lit room with Daryl’s deep, even breathing acting as your gentle lullaby.

It was frightening how so many things could change so quickly. Hell, an entire world could end in a matter of days.

You were up and about the day after you awoke with the IV in your arm. Hershel had instructed you to take it easy and, for once in your life, you had listened. You helped with cooking and hanging laundry. Anything that allowed you to sit often for water breaks and did not require you to lift.

Daryl was also out of the house that following day. Not because Hershel had allowed it. But because he felt anxious, cooped up. He was stealthy, as per usual, and back in his tent with a book before anyone had noticed he was missing. To his credit, he did move slower and didn’t engage in anything strenuous. Well, for a few days anyway.

Lori’s pregnancy had been a shocker to everyone. It was laughable to you how suddenly, you weren’t such a burden in the eyes of the second officer. It was also very revealing. You had suspected something all along, but watching him with Rick’s wife when he thought all heads were turned had just confirmed your suspicions.

That same man was growing more and more volatile with each passing day. He was constantly challenging Rick, the sort of leader of your little group, and then going off on his own to do god knows what. Daryl had butted heads with him a few times over a variety of things. The most recent was just before Lori’s pregnancy was revealed. Shane made an off-handed comment—after you had once again stood your ground against him—about breeding with a redneck having an affect on your mentality. The archer had only conceded when you had stepped in front of him.

Tensions only rose when Glenn had revealed that Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn. The issue was debated and discussed repeatedly with no clear resolution. Shane had come stomping over to the porch where everyone was congregated, handing out guns and riling everyone up. He was determined to clear the barn. You stood with Lori, even as Daryl went in with Shane, guns blazing. The action was one that would change everything for everyone forever.

When the lanky little girl stumbled out of the darkness beyond the barn doors, no one moved. No one made a sound. Except Carol. She had tried to run to Sophia, would have gladly allowed her daughter to rip into her throat at that moment if it meant she would get to hold her. Your fingers only brushed the woman’s arm as you attempted to stop her with a watery call of her name. Luckily, Daryl was successful. He held her until the last moment and even after the walker had fallen by Rick’s gun.

The drama didn’t end there.

A young man had been kept in the barn after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had brought him back with an injury that required surgery. Randall ended up knowing of the Greene farm and thus, became a threat. Rather, the group that had left him was a threat, but—guilty by association and all that. Daryl had participated in the torture of the kid for information. That led to the collapse of already unsteady ground between the two of you. Dale had died still believing that the group was above taking a life. Randall was still in that barn, awaiting the decision on his fate.

Daryl took the discovery of Sophia in the barn harder than anyone, the exception being Carol. He moved his tent away from the camp, hunted alone, and stayed away from everyone.

Including you.

The one time you had tried to talk with him, not even about the distance between you, he had reacted with anger. When you stomped away, you swore you wouldn’t go back. And you hadn’t. That had been more than two weeks ago.

Inside the house, you were noticing even more changes but these were within your own body. It was as if, over night, your breasts had decided that your bra was just no longer suitable housing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you studied them. They didn’t look bigger. Squeezing them in your palms, you hissed at the tender ache the gentle action left behind. You’d just have to wear a flannel over your cami so your nipples didn’t alert everyone that the evening was getting chilly.

Your special condition had been particularly nasty the past two days, requiring fluids once again, leaving you weak and exhausted. You grabbed your jeans from the armchair and stepped into them. There was the slightest bit of resistance getting them over your hips, earning a crease in your brow. It wasn’t until the button and zipper wouldn’t meet that you realized something really had changed.

Pushing the denim back to your knees, you turned sideways in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was the slightest curve to your lower belly. How hadn’t you noticed? With a defeated slump to your shoulders, you let your head roll over to where your sleep pants laid at the foot of the bed. Those and your oversized t-shirt had been enough to keep you ignorant to the changes your body was making to accommodate your baby.

“Ugh, I’m not ready, Thumper.” You whined with a cool palm over the small bump. Grumbling to yourself as you kicked off the jeans and grabbed the plaid cotton pants, you slipped them on and just pulled the t-shirt back on over your camisole. Your flannel would be enough against the autumn chill and with your boots adding to your already questionable attire, you trudged out the door and down the stairs.

Your first stop was the kitchen. Lori was there with Carl, handing him a plate that contained a sandwich and probably stale potato chips. She smiled at you as you entered, eyeing your outfit with a barely concealed smile.

“Hey there. Making a fashion statement?”

Drinking down a glass of water to swallow your pill, you turned sideways and hauled up your shirt and cami before lowering your pants slightly. The other woman gave you a nod.

“Ah, I see.” Lori began putting away food that was not used for lunch. “How far along are you?”

The question caught you off guard. You honestly hadn’t thought about it in a while. You had been more concerned with Glenn being able to find enough vitamins, with keeping down enough food and water, with Daryl being a jerk, and just with surviving. The farm had brought about several weeks of safety and you wished for your little calendar that you had kept in the beginning.

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No, I got this.” You assured, beginning to count on your fingers. It was more difficult than you thought. The days seemed to blend, some more eventful than others, leaving you unable to recall the quiet days in between. “Maybe 17 weeks?”

Lori nodded. “Sounds about right. Everyone’s different but I’m finding myself more sick with this one than I ever was with Carl. When you have your second, it could be smooth sailing and you could have already popped,” she raised her hands in air quotes, “by the time you’re this far along.”

You tilted your head. “Popped?”

Lori chuckled and continued with her task. “Means that one day you just wake up to a very noticeable belly.”

You looked down at your stomach, still on display with your shirt tucked under your arms to keep it raised. You wouldn’t say that you have popped as Lori put it. It was hardly noticeable until you tried to fasten your jeans. However, it was there. You adjusted your clothes and pursed your lips with a hum.

“Not sure there’ll ever be a second. I think one might be enough for the end of the world.”

You could see her expression shift, the smile and ease morphing into a questioning discomfort. Maybe it was time to table this conversation.

“I think I’ll head outside for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe see if someone will take me to get some different clothes. I definitely don’t want to run around in my pajamas when the weather turns.” The other woman nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“I will, thanks.”

You dipped your head and ambled out the screen door. The sun’s glare, high in the sky, was a shock to your eyes after being tucked away inside. Your hand acted as a visor against your brow as you scanned the farm. Everyone was scurrying around in their day to day activities, a sort of normalcy settling since everyone had moved into the house.

Except Daryl, of course.

You heaved a sigh at the thought of him out toward the edge of the farm alone. He could handle himself but the self isolation he was inflicting caused a heaviness in your heart that was beginning to fester. Carol had tried to bring him back and he had become irate. The things he had said to her were shared with you when the woman had finally let her tears fall against your shoulder. You wanted to throat punch him.

Maybe you would.

You saw Andrea perched on top of the RV with her rifle. You could almost picture Dale hovering behind her, as he often did. The vehicles had been moved closer to the house, providing much needed reassurance of a quick escape if it were deemed necessary. Chewing on your lip, you let your shoulders drop. It was time to bury that hatchet.

The climb up the ladder wasn’t as difficult as you thought it’d be. You weren’t thrilled about the height with your sporadic bouts of dizziness but as long as you stayed near the middle, it’d be okay.

Andrea glowered for a moment before turning back to keep watch over the fields.

“Hey.” You greeted. She didn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down before she turned around again. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that. You pointed a gun at my head.”

You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You could have killed Daryl, Andrea.” You kept your tone level, holding up a hand when she spun around with no doubt a snarky retort on her tongue. “I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to apologize.”

“Yeah? Apology not accepted.”

Another deep breath. “That decision is yours to make. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I was sick. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly and you had just shot the man I lo—the father of my baby.” You blinked, stunned by what you’d almost said in the moment. The look that suddenly appeared on Andrea’s face conveyed she’d caught it too. You shook your head and continued, hoping both of you could just forget it. “None of those things are an excuse for what I did when it was truly a mistake. So, I’m sorry.” When you turned to climb down, you had nearly let yourself be suffocated by the weight of your near an admission. Was it an admission? Were you just emotional? Hormones? Insanity? The dream and then this?

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You turned back, catching her eye and holding it. She could. She could spread it through the group and eventually it would make its way to Daryl and you were not ready to have that conversation. After a moment, you nodded in silent thanks. “Are we good?” Your voice was weaker than you intended.

Andrea smiled, a surprising kindness in her gaze. “We’re good.”

You inexplicably wanted to cry, barely controlling the quiver of your chin. “Thanks.” Going down the ladder was a little more difficult in part to the blurred vision for which the tears were responsible.

Once your feet were on the ground, you just started to walk, no destination in mind. When your heart screamed for Daryl, your rationality stomped it down. He was your friend. Alright, you’d been closer to him than anyone else in the group. It was never supposed to be something more. You didn’t want anything more. You didn’t want a baby with him. You didn’t want to feel trapped there.

But you didn’t feel trapped, did you? The majority of that group was kind to you. They cared for you when you were ill, expecting nothing from you. Daryl, for all his tendency to an absolute asshat, had been tender with you at times. You were safe when you could have been alone, left to figure out the pregnancy and raise a baby on your own. No, you wouldn’t have made it on your own. The complications would have killed you.

You let out a sob, walking faster and allowing the tears to flow without wiping them away. Your cheeks and neck were damp. Why were you even upset? Had the world finally broken you? You thought you’d last much longer than that, but you never could have predicted the events that had led you to where you were.

And where you were was Daryl’s camp.

The archer was perched on the ground, next to a dark patch of earth surrounded by rocks; a fire pit that was currently unutilized. He was scowling when he looked up at your approach, but his expression changed; a sudden conveyance of concern as he hauled himself to his feet.

“S’wrong?”

You didn’t know why you were there. The last thought of him before you spoke with Andrea was one of anger. Your body was crying out for a feeling of safety; for a shield from everything bad that could harm you or the little innocent life inside you. Somehow—for reasons you no longer had the energy to debunk—your feet took you straight to Daryl.

“Y/N?” His gruff voice spoke into your hair after you walked directly into his space, your fisted hands tucked under your chin while your face pressed into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t move. You didn’t want him to, not really. It would only make everything more confusing.

When he remained silent but his hand came to rest lightly against your back, you turned your hands and grabbed fistfuls of his vest. You pushed him away and hauled him right back, angry that he let you. You needed him to yell at you. You needed him to tell you that he didn’t care; that he’d only be around for you because of the baby.

When you tried to shove him again, he stood firm, his other hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! Push me away! Shut me out!” You slapped a hand hard against his chest, fingers pulling at the leather again.

“Why?”

You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to send you away. And you were so scared of that revelation that you yearned to scream just to feel something other than scattered turmoil that was enveloping your heart in a deviant swaddle of barbed wire.

Without a resolution to your emotional plight, you continued to cry until it drained everything out of you. Damn him, he just stood there with his arms around you; being the shield you so desperately needed. You wanted to hate him for it.

You wanted to, but you couldn’t.

Your sobs eventually dulled into sniffles and hiccups. After what felt like hours, your legs gave out, any strength you had when you left that bedroom was utterly spent. Daryl didn’t let you fall. You knew he wouldn’t. You weren’t tired enough to miss the way he held you up or the way he bent to sweep his arm under your knees.

You didn’t look at him while he carried you; turned your back to him when he placed you on the cot inside his tent. The flinch when he draped the sleeping bag over you was unintentional. You hoped he’d leave. Maybe he’d go out to hunt, irritated that you invaded the space he’d built for himself.

“Why’re ya here?”

Of course he didn’t. The universe hated you, that was abundantly clear now. “I—don’t know.”

“This cause’a hormones or whatever s’called?”

You snorted weakly, your hand working out from beneath the sleeping bag to wipe at your face. “What do you know about hormones, Daryl?”

“The book says—”

“Book?” You sat up on your forearm and twisted to look back at him. The archer looked annoyed, a decent flush spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears.

“Went into that town they go to for the meds an’ shit. Grabbed a, uh, book about baby stuff.” You blinked at him, earning a frown in return. “Don’t look at me like that. Yeah, I read, Y/N.”

You looked past his shoulder to where two books peeked from beneath some of his clothes. The one in question was closer, upside down and open beside the battery powered lamp.

The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-to-be

The small upturn of one corner of your mouth had him shifting to shield the book from your sight.

“How much have you read?”

“‘Nough to know it ain’t much fun for ya some’a the time.” He wouldn’t look at you now, finding interest in a piece of grass that he’d tracked inside. You hummed, a stirring in your chest that directly correlated with the feelings that had guided you there in the first place. The difference now was that you felt oddly grounded, able to focus on a single thought or feeling.

“Daryl?” He grunted without looking up. “Will you please move into the house?”

He sighed as though he’d been asked a thousand times. “Nah, too many people.”

“Then—can I stay out here with you?” It was your turn to find something to occupy your gaze. You settled on the sleeping bag zipper.

“Ya need to be inside. Safer there.”

“I have a bedroom.” You weren’t sure how you felt about sharing a close space with the hunter, but you knew you needed him close. Tent or bedroom, you didn’t really care. “It’d just be me and you.”

The subtle shift of his jaw indicated he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe you could find him something like toothpicks or straws, anything to keep him from hurting himself when he was uncomfortable.

“Why ya want me there? Ain’t like I’m miles away.”

“I feel safer with you.” Now it was you turning pink, your cheeks and neck flushing warm.

Daryl snorted. “Ya got over half a dozen people in there.”

“They’re not you.” You countered before you could think of a better way to say it. “Look, you’re the first person I met from this group. You’ve never hurt me. I trust you to fight with me.” You ducked your head. “To fight for me. To protect me if I can’t protect myself. To protect our baby.” When you met his eyes, you realized he had never looked at you the way he was at that moment. He still had that unreadable expression that you sometimes wanted to slap off of his face, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes.

“Lemme think ‘bout it.” He stated while rising to his feet. “Gotta meet ‘bout the kid later. Letcha know after.”

You didn’t want to drop the subject but at least he was going to consider it. Sitting up, you slumped on the cot, already feeling the need for a nap. Your energy levels had taken a major hit from your momentary lapse of sanity. Scratching at an itch on your belly, you were suddenly struck with the urge to share the progress note with Daryl. He was reading damn books on pregnancy. Surely he’d want to see. Right?

“Um, Daryl?”

“Yeah?” He’d stepped out to get his crossbow and bring it inside, continuing whatever he’d been doing. He still hadn’t asked you to leave. Maybe he was afraid you’d go batshit crazy a second time.

“I thought you might—well, this morning—” You furrowed your brow, groaning at your inability to put it into words. Finally, you just stood and lifted your shirt, sliding your pants down to just above your pubic bone. “I, uh, can’t get into my jeans anymore thanks to Thumper.”

Goddamn the man’s ability to maintain an expression of complete and utter stoicism. You suddenly felt self conscious, exposed. Maybe he couldn’t even see the difference. Fuck.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I think I should go.” You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of the pants but that’s as far as you got before you felt Daryl’s fingertips on your knuckles. He didn’t say anything as he stepped closer, shining blue orbs zeroed in on your stomach. You tracked his movements, each step slow and deliberate until he was directly in front of you. Using the tip of his index finger, he drew a line from your sternum to just where your pants sat below the small curve of your belly.

“Really in there, huh?” His voice was soft and raspy and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you at all. It seemed like a moment between father and child. His palm was warm when he placed it flat just below your navel. You watched his hand, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. It tickled but you stifled the giggle that threatened.

You opened your mouth to ask what the book said about how far along you were but when you lifted your gaze from your belly, he wasn’t looking at it at all. Deep blue pools were staring right back at you.

You knew your breaths were coming faster and your heart was beating a tattoo against your ribs. “Daryl?” Did you imagine that or did he just glance at your lips? You brought your hand to his face, barely brushing his skin when he pulled away abruptly.

“Head on back to the house. Don’t think I’ll be movin’ in there. Better out here.” He grabbed up his weapon and turned his back to you.

You were still standing frozen, belly exposed and hand just finally dropping to your side. “Daryl, I—”

“Go.” Daryl’s voice cracked on the word.

You adjusted your clothing and stepped toward him. “Daryl—”

“GO!”

Eyes blown wide, you flinched back and stumbled from the tent. With energy you didn’t know you had, you ran and managed to make it to the house without falling though you stumbled on more than one occasion. You ignored the concerned calls of your name, nearly taking a tumble on the stairs, before finally disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door. With your back against it, you tried and tried to catch your breath through the onslaught of tears. Your chest was tight, your stomach rolling.

Trapped in your distress, you couldn’t hear the screen door slap against the wall, Daryl’s boots heading toward the stairs, or even Carol’s accusatory shout.

“What did you do, Daryl?!”

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 13 days

Note

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working.

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded again.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd x fem!reader #amelia shepherd x autistic!reader #amelia shepherd fanfic #amelia shepherd fluff #amelia shepherd hc #hurt/comfort #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic

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levi501ackerman · 27 days

Text

That Day | Levi x Reader Angst

masterlist

Summary: Ever since That Day . . . Anytime you became lucid, Levi spent all the time with you that you could offer him.

Word Count: 10.1k ( about 50 mins to read)

Author's Note: This popped into my head the other day and I had tunnel vision to write this. I have written 90% of Part 3 of Allegiance. I decided to write this in one part and it's not entirely proof read cuz now that I am done I need to focus on finals LMAO. Posted: 5/2/24

TRIGGER WARNING: torture, scars, mentions of underweight. (please lmk if there's anything else I should add because I've never written anything this dark.) It's supposed to be angsty AF. Please know I did my best and I understand for having medical stuff wrong or something unrealistic. Enjoy and lmk if you cried cuz I cried.

“This will not be discussed again,” Levi said firmly to the girl in front of his desk. She was frustrated and tearing up. Her dark hair was long and the girl had her arms crossed. Levi started pretending to read, hoping the girl would get the idea to leave. Annoyance crept up because the girl was still in front of Levi. He had nothing left to say. “Please, leave. I don’t want to discuss anything un-scout-related with you.” The girl sighed and headed toward the door. Before she could get near the threshold, there was a knock from outside.

“Captain Levi, It’s Eren Jaeger.” The voice said behind the door. The girl glanced at Levi and then opened the door for him. Eren’s eyebrows were furrowed and raised, his eyes alert. Then suddenly dropped to confusion, “Oh hey Grace,” She walked passed without greeting him. Eren’s anxious tone returned, he was slightly sweaty and out of breath from dashing to the Captain’s office. “It’s Y/N. She’s lucid.” Levi looked at Eren, he slowly started rising from his desk. Engaged and forgetting anything else he was focused on.

Hange and Moblit with a clipboard stood against the wall in an attempt to stay out of the way. They were quietly listening to the girl behind the curtain groan. A nurse could be heard trying to get the girl to drink water, but she kept rejecting the offer. The girl kept mentioning how cold she was. Hange had not visited Y/N in a few weeks. At the end of each lucid episode, it was filled with nothing but frustration and guilt. If only things went differently. Levi and a few others should be here any moment. The door opened and Sasha entered, quietly. She knew the protocol, she stood next to Moblit near the door and silently greeted Hange and Moblit.

“NO! No, please! I don’t want shots!” Hange could hear you hoarsely beg. Hange breathed deeply. She thought to herself, you’re in the room. We are safe. “Can we wait?! Please, no!” You screamed. Behind the curtain, the nurse softly reassured you and asked you to lower your voice.

“I think we’ll start as normal, have Doctor Winston Yates and Levi assess Y/N, and go off based on this first hour,” Hange whispered. Moblit and Sasha nodded. “I assumed Mikasa has been reminded of her role?” Sasha nodded again. The door opened again and Dr. Yates walked in. He gave Hange, Sasha, and Moblit a thumbs-up with a big smile. The older man brought a warm presence. He lively strode behind the curtains.

“Y/N! Good to see you awake . . . she’s on IV fluids?” He loudly greeted you.

“Yes,” the nurse said.

“Tell me how you feel right now, don’t hold back on me!” His chuckle is probably what you needed to hear. You didn’t hear much laughter anymore.

“I’m tired . . .” You said softly. The door opened once again with Levi hastily entering the room, he glanced at the three and then went behind the curtain. Eren entered and held the door until it closed with a quiet click. “Levi!” You said and Levi sat in the chair next to your bed. You reached out your hand. He sat down and with a soft embrace he held your hand.

“Y/N, how do you feel?” He asked in a low voice.

“Good, I want to sit outside.” Levi smiled and Dr. Yates and the nurse laughed.

“That’s what we want to hear!” The nurse said.

“We can go outside, later,” Levi assured.

“We need to give her a shot, she’s on her usual IV with concentrated vitamins and minerals.” The nurse said lowly to Levi and Dr. Yates. You panicked and jerked away from the nurse. You couldn’t get far with the straps still clamping down your ankles. But you moved as close to Levi as you could. He wrapped an arm around you and then looked you in the eyes.

“Just a shot it’ll be over really quick.” Levi whispered.

“I’ll need her arm.” Levi freed you and held your hand with both of his. The nurse rubbed your arm and you felt the cool sensation. You closed your eyes. “Okay and you’re done.”

“What!? I didn’t even feel it,” You said.

“There you go! Next time, bump her TPN to 2 liters,” Dr. Yates said, looking at your arms.

“See nothing to worry about.” Levi said and you smiled at him. “Let’s brush your teeth and clean yourself a little then we can sit outside.”

5th Debriefing Session:

Hange glanced at her notes before speaking. She sat in a comfortable chair at a table where the survey corps typically held meetings. Dr. Yates, Levi, Commander Erwin and Moblit sat at the table and turned their attention to Hange. Hange hated the debriefings. All of them did They only happened at the end of your lucid episodes.

“According to this recent episode, Y/N stayed lucid for four days. Her 2nd longest lucid. This time she was showing a more closed off demeanor. She only wanted to socialize with Levi, Sasha Brause, Dr. Yates, and Eren Jaeger. She was opposed to physical touch except for Levi . . .” She looked at her clipboard and sniffled. “My hypothesis was correct that when Y/N showed signs of starting to revert and feel triggered, Sasha’s presence made Y/N feel safe. Twice during this episode, Y/N started screaming and Sasha was introduced and Y/N appeared to calm down and eventually went back to a neutral state. And like Dr. Yates mentioned in his therapy debriefing, Y/N is showing signs of improvement.”

“Day by day. She’s getting better,” Dr. Yates said to Levi. Levi was looking down at his lap. He hated these sessions too even though they were important. Though he did recognize signs of improvement, he felt defeated every time you got triggered. Guilt shredded him, as he went through the past seven months without you fully. Levi wanted you to live life with him.

“White pants or black pants?” Levi asked you, holding up both pairs.

“Black.” For the first month after That Day, the pinstriped scars on your legs triggered you. As they healed and were less bloody, scabby and painful they didn’t visually trigger you anymore. That was the first success from Dr. Yates working with you. Levi went behind the curtain and pulled it behind him to give you some privacy. It was now only you two in the cold room. When you pulled back the curtain slowly you let out an unsure sound. “Um . . .” Levi looked over at you looking down at your big pants. His heart dropped, but wasn’t going to let you see his disappointment in you losing more weight.

“We’ll eat soon. Try rolling it.” He said.

“What?” He approached you and grabbed the pants and folded it down so the waist wouldn’t fall down. Levi couldn’t help but catch your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, but to him you were so fragile. You kissed him on the cheek and it elated him how lovingly you were this time. He wrapped one arm around you and squeezed you.

4th Debriefing Session:

“Y/N’s overall behavior this episode . . .” Hange said and then let out a sigh. “Was . . .”

“Aggressive.” Levi said.

Hange held two bowls of hearty soups with bread. One bread had an excessive amount of butter on it and in one of the bowls there was extra oil in the soup. She carefully walked with the meals in her hand. Moblit was next to her with the clipboard.

“With the extra butter and oils, I’d track probably a thousand calories for this meal. If we can get her to eat again later, I’ll call that a success.” Hange said and Moblit was writing on the clipboard in his hand. They walked outside of the dining hall and saw you and Levi in the distance. You were sitting on a bench under a tree facing away.

“Section Commander, her bread is as wet as the soup.” Moblit said, eyeing the pound of butter on your slice of bread.

“ . . . I’ll do anything to have her be healthy again . . .” Hange said. Birds flew away from the tree Levi and you were sitting under. She sighed. Moblit looked at her and recognized her anguished expression.

“Don’t be hard on yourself. Torture trauma could take multiple years to recover from . . .” Moblit said.

“ . . . I just think about . . . only if . . .” Hange stared at the grass in front of her. Then she recognized the beauty of that moment. You were lucid and cooperative. Moblit was right to not be hard on herself. It was a good day because of the sun and the slight breeze. It has been Months since you were outside. Not only that, you wanted to go outside. Inbetween most of your lucid episodes, you were sedated, because you wouldn’t stop screaming or kicking. Your vocal cords would get shredded and you would lose your voice. “Good Morning, Levi! Y/N! Are you hungry?” Hange found it deep inside her to sound joyful. You whipped your head around toward the voice. You gasped excitedly and jogged toward Hange. Levi walked toward the three after.

“For me?” You asked.

“If you won't eat it, I will.” Hange bent a little to your height with a smile. Levi took the two bowls from Hange. When the food was out of the way you hugged Hange and she froze out of shock then embraced you lovingly. She hadn’t received a hug from you in a while. You seemed excited for her to be around. You hugged for more than five seconds and when you realized Hange wasn’t going to pull away you did.

“Thank you for the food!” You said, “Come sit with us!” You grabbed Hange’s wrist and pulled her toward the bench. “You too Moblit”. When you looked back, you saw him writing on his clipboard and then he grinned at you. When you got to the bench Levi handed you the bowl with the extra oils and butter. “Oh . . . I don’t think there’s room on the bench.” You scooted all the way next to Levi and assessed if Hange could fit in the small space.

“Oh no worries—”

“Levi, get up.” You said and he obeyed, which Hange laughed. Levi faced you while still standing next to you. He didn’t want to leave your presence or miss anything you did. Hange sat down next to you.

“She’s been asking about you,” Levi said to Hange then sipped his soup. Hange was certainly intrigued especially since the last time was not a good experience with you. She felt a sliver of hope.

“Have you been missing me?!” She asked. It was an eye opener for her, the last two months were not physically good for your health. Her heart dropped analysing you, you were skinny, looked dull and genuinely tired. She regretted not visiting you enough.

“Yes, I feel so . . . out of it. Like I woke up from the longest dream . . .” You said. Then took a spoonful of soup making sure to get a little bit of the chicken onto the spoon.

“She was talking about the time you were teaching her how to braid hair.” Levi said.

“Hmm. Are you sure that was me?” Hange asked.

“Oh well, I thought it was you, maybe not.” You laughed.

“Hey, eat before it gets cold,” Levi said, tapping your ankle lightly with his foot.

“Yeah. Yeah. I just want to talk to Hange.” You said.

“Awe, you’re so cute. But Levi’s right, you wouldn’t want your food to get cold.” Hange said.

“Could you have put any more butter on this bread?” You laughed and Hange laughed it off.

“Try it like this,” She took your bread and dunked it in the soup. The bread was dripping in broth, butter and oil. You took the soaked bread and attempted to take a bite out of it without dripping on yourself.

5th Debriefing Session:

��Yes, day by day, Y/N is getting better. My only concern is that she stopped having an interest in eating. Levi informed me that she would push around her food and barely drink water. I sat a table over and noticed two evenings in a row she only took a few bites.” Hange read from her notes. “However, I noticed the start of a trend. She always finished a bowl of soup. Perhaps at least one of the meals for the day needs to be soup.”

“We can start a total parenteral nutrition IV when sedated. Then adjust the dosage.” Dr. Yates said and wrote the note down.

“Great. Another thing I wanted to talk about which I mentioned before was her social behavior . . .” Hange took a deep breath then focused on her notes. “Y/N had a small improvement from her last episode. This episode Y/N wasn’t against socializing. Besides the few previously mentioned she seemed fearful or hesitant around some friends. I do not want to describe her as shy, just . . . disinterested.” Hange choked and then took another deep breath.

Levi stared at the books on the bookshelf. He couldn’t look at his friend.

“How are you?” You asked Levi. “You are more quiet today.” He smiled, grabbed your hand and lifted to kiss the back of your palm. The four of you were on a short walk. You were unknowingly walking toward your next few tests. Hange was on the other side of you with Moblit on her side. A few scouts would walk past and greet Levi. He ignored them.

“I’m at peace being with you.” He said softly knowing moments are fleeting. You thought he was being cute. You stepped in front of him, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. It took him by surprise. But you were giving him a pleasure he wasn’t going to deny. He kissed you again, deeply and he thought how there is just no one else in his life he wanted. Levi was willing and planning on being patient for the time it took you to heal. Years. Decades. You made it through That Day. Levi knew you were worth the time to heal. He knew that healing was not linear. He intended to be with you for all of your moments. He remembered something and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out your ring. “I cleaned it.” He grabbed your left hand and slid the ring on your left ring finger. Then he warmly smiled at you, gazing at his special girl. “Someday when you are healthy, we’ll get married . . .” Levi realized they were out in the open in public and glanced towards Moblit and Hange. Moblit was writing on his clipboard and Hange was acting like the bowls she was holding was the most interesting thing. He clasped your hand and continued walking, Hange and Moblit slowly trailed behind you.

When you got closer to the entrance of the dining hall the more noise you could hear. There were scouts laughing with each other. Some people standing in groups talking to each other. Some were out in the front enjoying the sun. A few people grouped in the front. Some faces you recognized but you haven’t ever conversed with. It was getting louder as you approached the threshold. A girl with pretty dark hair caught your eye.

“Mikasa?” You asked a little unsure. The girl’s eyebrows raised and her eyes were wide. “Mikasa Ackerman?” She stepped closer to you. Hange, Moblit and Levi could see Mikasa’s eyes start to gloss over.

“Y/N . . .” Mikasa said calmly.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time,” You hugged her and she hugged you back tightly. Mikasa didn’t want to let go. She kept blinking, but her eyes were filling up with tears. You pulled away, “How are you?” You asked brightly. “Keeping Eren out of trouble?” She smiled through her tears. “ . . . What’s wrong?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a while. It’s happy tears.” She sniffled and you laughed.

“You look sad,” You said and touched her hair.

“I have something for you . . .” Mikasa gently went through a small bag she usually did not have with her.

“What is it, Mikasa?” Hange asked.

“She got me a present!” You said excitedly. Mikasa found what she was looking for. She gently brought out paper that was folded twice.

“I found this a few weeks ago and I want you to have it.” She handed you the folded paper and you hesitantly took it. You carefully unfolded the paper. On the paper was a drawing of three girls. You gasped. It was a drawing of Mikasa, Sasha and you and the background you could tell was your room from your cadet days. Mikasa sniffled, blinked back tears, and quietly took a deep breath. “Remember? Jean drew us and Sasha when we were roommates in the cadet corp.” The drawing of you and your friends was done in pencil, but along the edge of the paper were names written in ink. In elegant penmanship was written: Mikasa, Sasha and Y/N. “I had it all these years, but I think you should have it.” Your heart felt like it was swelling in your chest. How could you not? You thought of the fun times you and Mikasa would plug Sasha’s nose when she was sleeping. She would swat and roll over leaving you and Mikasa giggling. You thought of the time when you peed your pants because Sasha made you laugh so hard. Another memory of Mikasa teaching Sasha how to braid hair and she tried it on you and put knots in your hair. Mikasa had to cut your hair. It ended up so badly that Mikasa braided your hair for the last year of the cadet corp. You thought of the time you stole Mikasa’s shirt for the day then when heading to bed your mattress was gone. Mikasa was like the sister you always wanted. You hugged Mikasa and she let a tear fall. She closed her eyes and enjoyed that moment.

“ . . . You’re the one that taught me how to braid hair . . . This is so sentimental, Thank you.” You said and when you pulled away you analysed the drawing again. “Hey, how's Jean? I’m surprised I haven’t seen him yet . . . Where’s Eren? He’s usually . . .” You froze, you felt cold. You felt sick. Why did you feel scared? Mikasa stared back at you, her eyes grew bigger.

“Y/N.” Levi grabbed your arm and held your head while embracing you.

“How do you feel? Tell me your thoughts.” Hange said worryingly. She tugged on your shirt gently. You stared off and then you looked at Mikasa.

“I was just . . . wondering where Eren was . . . you two are usually together.” You said dazed and confused.

“Let’s sit down . . .” Levi said and you stared at Mikasa. She was still in her stance. She looked at you carefully, she didn’t want to frazzle you. Though this moment for her was fleeting, she looked at you and appreciated that you were alive and lucid.

“Do you want to sit with me?” You asked Mikasa. More tears streamed down her face with a smile.

3rd Debriefing Session:

“There’s not a clear indication why Y/N’s long term memory was affected. There are gaps—not remembering long term friendships, routines, and some milestone events. But with this episode lasting 28 days and with the evidence that over time her health did improve over the 28 days.” Dr. Yates said. Levi stared at the books he always did. The survey corps went on a large scale planned expedition and unfortunately, you became lucid the morning they left. 19 days they were gone. Apparently, you kept asking for Levi. You were a little moody sitting in the medical room not being allowed to do much. You asked to go outside, but once you were outside you just wanted to go back in.

Levi was pissed when the survery corp returned and he received the message that you’ve been lucid since they left. He wasn’t there for the longest time you were lucid and he didn’t know how much time he had left. When he did return to you, you became happier and so you started becoming healthier. Dr. Yates let you stay with Levi for a couple nights.

While staring at the books, his mind ended up thinking about one of the nights of you staying with him. You were on top of Levi practically begging to have sex. He thought about how you kissed his neck and palmed him teasing him with pleasure. You two haven’t had sex since before That Day. He rubbed your thigh gently, he tried to pretend he didn’t feel your pinstriped scars. You ran your hand through his hair, pleading with him to touch you. Levi felt like he was taking advantage of you and suggested going to bed.

“I suggest we can add a couple tests when she’s lucid.” Hange’s bright tone pulled Levi away from the thought of you.

“What are you thinking?” Commander Erwin asked.

“Since Y/N could not recognize Mikasa Ackerman, even though she should have for knowing her for so long. They were roommates along with a few others including Sasha Braus since the Cadet Corp. We could have Mikasa walk by Y/N and see if she reacts, says hello or recognizes her slightly. If she doesn’t we could try having Mikasa approach her and have a light conversation to jog her memory.

“Another thing I noticed was Y/N feels calm around Sasha Braus. Whether it's because they are long term friends or because of That Day. According to Sasha, she was the one that killed Hecate when she was torturing Y/N. We could conclude that subconsciously Y/N remembers Sasha saving her.

“One last hypothesis. I was thinking if Eren Jaeger was around Y/N. She would not think about where Eren could be as that was the information Hecate was trying to get from us.” Hange suggested. “I recognize these ‘tests’ do require the efforts of others, that are not mandatory. But I know they would want to help Y/N.”

“How long do you think expect her friends to help her?” Commander Erwin asked.

“With all due respect, I am not the doctor. I am just summarizing her social behavior. I can only help, but I can not solve anything.” Hange said and then there was silence in the room. A sense of apprehensiveness to speak. They were ignoring what needed to be said.

“ . . . Levi, there’s a hospital in the capital that specializes—”

“Are you suggesting shipping off Y/N? She was lucid for almost a month. She’s improving.” Levi said sharply. Erwin let out a deep breath and decided to pin that suggestion for later.

Your fourth lucid episode was two months after. Levi was worried that you were slowly dying and not going to have another lucid episode. When you did . . . it was the worst behavior to deal with. Hange and Levi had to restrain you while Moblit attempted to sedate you with a syringe. You scratched Hange’s face with your engagement ring.

As the day went on you felt tired. Though you did enjoy hanging and conversing with Mikasa, Eren and Armin. You were starting to feel out of it. Dinner was starting to be served and more of your friends came into the dining hall.

“If I get you food will you eat it?” Levi asked.

“I’m just tired.” You said. It felt like a long day. Your social battery was starting to become drained.

“You should eat, Y/N” Eren said.

“Yeah we’re all going to get food. I think there’s soup.” Armin added.

“I already had soup today.” You said, lethargically

“Are you saying F/N L/N has a limit on soup?!” A bright voice said behind you. You turned around and a jolt of energy burst from you as you sprung up to hug Sasha.

“SASHA!” Levi and Hange laughed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Is soup all you had today?” Sasha asked, but it seemed like she was more asking Hange.

“I would like for her to eat more.” Hange said to Sasha.

“Then let’s get in line I’m starving” Sasha grabbed your wrist and you guys went into the line.

During dinner, Levi’s heart swelled watching you be with your friends. It was the first in a while where you were smiling and laughing with them. Jean told stupid jokes that made you laugh hard. You laughed so hard you cried. Sasha gave you some of her soup so you could eat more. Armin didn’t say much, but he enjoyed seeing you alive and healthy. Levi thought your smile was so warm and watching you from where he sat it was like he was seeing you for the first time again.

Your laugh, your smile and you being with your friends. Levi remembers being so shy and nervous to talk to you. Your courage and initiation to talk to Levi is what started the relationship. He glanced at the ring on your finger. He just knew. Denied it to himself, Levi thought he was ridiculous for knowing he was going to marry you only after interacting with you a limited amount of times. But you were just so considerate of him and caring for him. He never had someone like him for him. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry. He was grateful you were in his life. Levi was going to be by yourside for the entire time you needed to heal. He will marry you.

“Levi? Are you okay?” Hange asked. He opened his eyes and saw you intently listening to Eren’s story.

“I just . . . want to marry her.” He said.

After you were done eating. You braided Sasha’s hair and then Mikasa stood behind you and braided yours. You french braided Sasha’s and Mikasa was also giving you a french braid. When you and Mikasa were done braiding. Mikasa sat down in front of you and you started braiding her hair.

“Hange! I could braid your hair!” Sasha turned excitedly to Levi and Hange’s table. Hange raised her eyebrows.

“No! I want to braid her hair!” You said to Sasha.

“Oh come on please!” Sasha begged.

“HANGE LET US BRAID YOUR HAIR! YOU WOULD LOOK SO CUTE WITH PIGTAILS. ” You demanded and Levi laughed. You dropped her hair and walked over to Hange, you started pulling her wrist but she was holding onto the table. “SASHA GRAB HER OTHER WRIST!” Sasha laughed and you both pulled Hange over to the other table.

“Fine! Just normal, nothing fancy.” Hange appeased and sat down at your table.

“You braid Mikasa’s hair. I want to do Hange’s.” You said. Then you started pulling out her ponytail and brushing it with your fingers. “Jeez, your hair is knotty.” Levi smiled. You braided her hair into pigtails and looked over at Sasha braiding Mikasa’s hair. “You look so cute, Mikasa!” Mikasa blushed. “Awe Hange you look so cute, too!”

“We’ll all have braided hair, now!” Sasha said excitedly.

“Jean needs to draw us!” You said. “Quick, we need to get a pencil and paper!” Jean froze with a spoon almost to his mouth.

“When did I sign up for this?” He laughed.

“Just do a quick one!” Mikasa said. Molblit handed Jean a blank sheet of paper and his pencil. He smiled. He did want to remember this moment.

“Okay bunch up. Have Sasha and Hange stand behind you two.” You and Mikasa had an arm around each other and Hange and Sasha hugged you two from behind. It took a little, but you still chatted and talked with the rest of the table. Except for when Jean asked you all to smile. Then he let you get out of the pose. He continued drawing though and after a while he folded the paper twice. Then licked among the folds and split the paper into four. “Ladies of the braid. I have your drawing.” Jean handed Mikasa a fourth of a paper with a drawing of the four of you with your braids. Then handed you another fourth with the same drawing copied over.

“Jean, you drew it four times?” You asked and Jean handed the last fourths of the paper to Hange and Sasha. The four of you lined up the drawings you received by the ripped folds. You all had the same drawing of the four of you smiling with your hair in braids.

“You’re an amazing artist, thank you, Jean.” Hange said admiring the drawing.

“Thanks, Jean!” Sasha brightly said. Mikasa picked up the pencil Jean was using from the table.

“Y/N, hand me your drawing really quick.” She put your drawing on the table and wrote something on an open space of the drawing. Then she gave you the paper back. You looked at what Mikasa wrote. In elegant penmanship was written: Sasha, Hange, Mikasa and Y/N.

“You have such nice handwriting, Mikasa.” You said and she smiled hopefully at you. Then you hugged Jean and thanked him for the drawing. You happily strolled to Levi and showed him the drawing. It was like the drawing Hange showed him a moment ago. Except yours had the names written. Levi recognized it was the same handwriting from the other drawing.

5th Debriefing Session:

“We need to have a tough conversation,” Commander Erwin started. “When looking at the big picture of Y/N’s health. We are nearing the 6th month mark . . . Levi, the Survey Corps can only do so much . . . evaluating her when the one year mark—” Levi abruptly stood up with a loud screech from his chair. He began to walk toward the doors. “Hange wants to help Y/N! Her friends want to and are willing to help, but—” Levi ripped the door open.

“If you want to send her to a hospital in Mitras. Honorably discharge me. I’ll go with my wife.” Levi slammed the door.

“Okay Hange. Yeah, okay.” Levi closed the door on Hange. He just wanted to spend some alone time with you. You carefully walked to the table while holding two cups of tea and gently on the table. For a moment you reminded him of his mother. You were so elegant and when you smiled at Levi his felt happy that you were his. He had love in his life and he was going to take care of you just like you have always taken care of him. He fondly looked at you and then he approached you and hugged you. You were his just like he knew he was yours. No matter what. “Sit, I want to get something.” He said and went off to the corner where he had a small bookshelf. He grabbed a leatherbound journal and a pencil. He put it in front of you. “Here.” You stared at it.

“What—”

“Remember it’s your journal. You haven’t written in it in a long time though. I want you to write an entry.” Levi gently said then he grabbed the drawing Jean gave you and he leaned it against some books on the bookshelf.

“Oh yeah . . . I forgot . . . I used to write everyday. I had like 8 journals . . .” You trailed off.

“Yea, you wanted to keep a record of your life. Maybe write how you feel or just what went on today. I think the last entry you wrote was near when we got engaged.” Levi said.

“ . . .we’re engaged?” You asked confused. Levi closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He tried to keep the mood light.

“Just a little entry.” He sat down next to you and sipped on his tea carefully. You smiled and started writing about your day. “Then we could go to sleep early.” Levi enjoyed sleeping with you because he had poor sleeping habits. But when you slept next to him he got a few more hours. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and you turned to kiss him again on the lips. His admiration for you only grew watching you write in your journal. These little moments are everything he has to accept for now.

“I don’t know what else to write . . .” You said lightly. Thoughts came into your mind and then disappeared. “I’m sorry.” Levi offered you his hand and when you took he gently helped you stand up and walked towards the bed. He then held your hand to his heart.

“Let’s lay down.” Levi said.

“Can I have a back massage?” You ask. Levi does his best to give you a shoulder massage, he carefully does his best to not hurt you, but he wants to relieve you of all pain. Levi tried to be as careful because to him you were so delicate and fragile looking. He wanted you to relax and be with him.

“Is this okay . . .?” He asked.

“Keep going.” You ordered and he obeyed then smiled. He moved down your back, pressing little circles into your back and along your spine.

“Let’s go brush our teeth and go—” Levi said, pulling away.

“No more.” You put his hand back on your shoulders. He gave you a couple more seconds of massaging.

“Okay no more, your majesty.” He said. You jumped on him which took him by surprise. You attempt to pin him down on the bed and Levi let you. You kissed his forehead and he looked up at you fondly. Youre eyes looked so pretty. You trailed your hands slowly on Levi’s chest, feeling his carved muscles. You placed one of his hands on your thighs and you ran your fingers in his hair. To Levi you are everything. He reached towards your face and then touched your braid. “Let’s go to sleep.” You kissed him and fisted his shirt. Levi pulled away, “Y/N . . .”

“Please . . .” you mewled into his ear softly, knowing this is what gets to him. You put more pressure on him, feeling him getting harder. You tucked some of his fringe behind his ears. You looked into his steel grey eyes and the eye contact was making you feel heat in yourself, you haven’t felt in a while. You grinded your hips and Levi was starting to breathe heavily. “ . . . Levi,” you moaned, you knew it drove him crazy. “I love you so much.”

“I’m in love with you.” Levi said to you. You looked so pretty.

“We haven’t . . . made love in a while.” You said and continued to grind on him and Levi was thinking of the pleasure’s he could have with you. He hasn't felt your body in a long time and Levi wanted to feel you wrapped around him. He wanted to hear you whimper in his ear. But clarity came to the forefront.

“I can’t take advantage of you . . .” He said quietly.

“You’re not, I want you.” You started taking off your shirt. Levi stopped you. Pulling your shirt down. He sat up and hugged you, smelling you.

“Y/N I can’t . . . please let’s go to sleep.” You pulled away and gave him another kiss.

“Ok.”

When you slept next to Levi, he felt it easier to relax. His muscles untensed and he found it easier to fall asleep. Levi had terrible sleeping habits before you and when you slept next to him for the first time he realized you helped him. He slept a good six hours with you next to him. Levi realized you brought him a sense of peace and you always were positive and good natured.

You always had taken good care of him, sometimes he saw his mom in you. You reminded him that he was worthy of love and he saw you as someone who wanted to give love to your friends. He admired that you made friends wherever you went. He knew how much your friends love you and you saw them as your family. Your kind heart is what drew people in. Levi was glad you had a large support system, something he didn’t have in life. He recognized that he wanted to marry you when he realized that you made up an entire family for him. He trusted that you would always be there for him and you were so supportive and loving. You made him laugh so much, feeling joy in life.

Levi half asleep rolled over, he felt the bed empty. He sat up and he was alone. He heard you in the dark room whimpering quietly. He saw your dark silhouette on the floor against the wall. His heart dropped, more time he begged.

“Please,” you begged quietly. Levi cautiously approached you. “No, please don’t” You said as he got closer. He grabbed a syringe off of the table.

“Y/N. It’s Levi.” He said almost pleading.

“NO!” You pleaded. Holding your hand out to him as if that was going to stop him. He started to feel tears in his eyes, this was the first time he had to do this alone. There was a hope that you just had a bad nightmare and you needed comfort.

“Come back to me . . .” He said. You screamed loudly and it pierced his ears. He had to jump on you. You thrashed and one of his tears landed on you. You slapped him and pushed Levi. He grunted.

“Y/N!” He said, pining one of your arms against the wall.

“NO! PLEASE DONT!” You cried out and screamed again. Levi used his weight to hold down your legs. He set the syringe down and did his best to pull your pants down. You panicked and fought him. “STOP! I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” You pulled up your knee and tried to hit Levi in the croch. Levi cried. You were weak and Levi was much stronger than you. He managed to get a good surface of your thigh showing. You managed to get another slap on his face and he grunted. You screamed loudly, a cry in desperation. You whailed hoping someone would hear you and help you.

“Please—”

“PLEASE STOP!” You screamed, he winced at the volume going into his ear. He picked up the syringed and shot it into your leg. You screamed and Levi looked at you in the eyes hoping to find you somewhere. You looked at him in desperation, pleading to spare you. Levi had to hold you down until you got physically worn out, he cried waiting for you to go unconscious. When you were weak. He hugged you, he knew you needed help. This was the life he was dealt with.

Before he left his room, he laid you on his bed and pretended you were only sleeping. This time was so short again. What else could Levi do to help you? He knocked on the door and waited for a while. His eyes were puffy and his face was stained with tears. He knocked again and the door finally opened. Hange still had her pigtail braids in. Levi held up his empty syringe.

“Levi . . .” Hange said tiredly then she saw the syringe.

“Y/N’s in my room.” Levi said dismaly. Hange leaned her head against the doorframe and sighed.

“I’ll get Dr. Yates.” She said.

That Day:

They were in a large room of a house. The windows were large and revealed that there were no other buildings nearby. They were almost in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere northwest Wall Rose. One of Hecate’s men was holding a knife to Hange’s throat. Another was holding you by your waist and had a knife to your back. Levi and Erwin were on their knees and tied up. With another guy standing behind them. Hecate walked back and forth between the four of you. Her heels being the prominent sound on the hardwood floor.

“I recognize you, scout regiment. You know where Eren Jaeger is. So which one of you is going to tell me where he is?” She said toyingly. She has been wanting to kill Eren for years. She came close to killing him twice. She played with the knife in her hand. “Commander Erwin . . . top dog. Leader of the scout regiment. Tell me.” She bent down to level with him. He stayed silent. Hecate grabbed his hair and yanked his head back then sliced into his collarbone. Erwin groaned, gritting his teeth. You grimacing looked away.

“We don’t know where Eren is.” Erwin said lowly.

“Liar. Tell me where he is.” She said and Erwin didn’t respond. She kicked him in the balls and he let out a gutteral groan and fell on his side. The scouts were on their way, though there was no hope of getting out of the situation. They needed to get here before everyone was dead. Erwin painfully coughed. Then she walked over his body.

“What about you?” She stood over Levi. He said nothing. You couldn’t help but watch what she was going to do to Levi. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him up. “Are you going to tell me, handsome?” You felt a rage, but your fear was more developed. You knew Levi wasn’t going to spill even if he was beaten to death. The four of you wouldn’t. She slapped Levi and you closed your eyes.

“That’s Captain Levi born from the underground. He’s not going to talk.” The guy behind Erwin and Levi gruffly said.

“Huh, that's so?” She looked at Levi and pushed him face forward to the ground. She lifted up his shirt revealing his back and dug the knife into him. “I’ll ask you one more time. Where is Eren?” You heard Levi muffly groan as Hecate dug the knife across his back. Beads of blood bursing from the cut. “Come on, Captain, I want answers.”

“I’m not answering you, bitch.” Levi spat at her. You raised your eyebows when you saw some of his blood. You wanted to tell Levi to not make her angry, but you stayed silent. She stood up from him and looked at him.

“Huh, of course, Captain.” She kicked his face. You jerked, “I believe you.” She laughed. She glanced over at you and Hange. Your heart pulsed. She strolled over to you two while wiping her knife. “I know how the dynamics work, captain . . . your attempt to provoke me? I’ve seen it a thousand times. You’re not gonna talk.” You felt your heart in your throat when she eyes you and Hange. “But one of you will.” You kept your eyes down. She stood in front of Hange. “No need for that . . .” She said to the man holding Hange. He took the knife from her throat and put it in her back. “You’re quite pretty.” Hange scowled at her. Hecate took Hange’s glasses off then threw them on the ground then crushed her glasses with her boot. She kicked her in the stomach. She recoiled, the wind being knocked out of her and the man holding Hange caused her to not fall over. Tears started building in your eyes. “Tell me where Eren is and you and your friends will be left alone.” Hange said nothing. Hecate slapped Hange. She whimpered. “Tell me what I want to know. Where is Eren Jaeger?” Hange sniffled. Hecate breathed impatiently then looked at the ground she picked up a sharp glass edge from Hange’s glasses. Then lifted a part of her shirt and jabbed the glass into Hange’s abdomen. She cried out loudly and whimpered. Choking for air trying to regulate her breathing. Hecate walked over to you. You continued looking at the ground, noticing some blood was on her shoe. “Why are you crying? Do you not like seeing your friends get hurt?” She taunted. She slapped you. You yelped and some of your hair got in your face. “We don’t have to do this, you know. Let me know darling, where is Eren Jaeger?” You stayed silent. A tear rolled down your cheek begging that the scouts would save you four. She swiped the blade onto your collarbone. Blood drew from your cut. You moaned and whimpered. “Answer me. Or you’ll get another cut.” She grabbed you by your shirt and pointed the knife to your abdomen.

“Stop, she doesn’t know.” Hange huffed out. Hecate turned her attention on Hange. Then glanced at you.

“Bring Commander Erwin Smith over here, would you?” Hecate asked and the man brought a stumbling Erwin over in front of Hange. He made Erwin kneel. “Commander these pretty girls are your subordinates?” Erwin stayed silent looking at the ground. Hecate slapped him. “So fucking rude not to answer my question.” She went toward you and kicked you, knocking the wind out of you, making you fall to the ground. The man who was holding you put his foot on your side. You felt paralyzed and then the pain set in. “Where is Eren Jaeger? or these girls will get it.”

“I don’t know.” Erwin said.

“You do know.” Hecate said and then sliced a cut into Hange’s collar bones. She whimpered. “Tell me what I want.” She was starting to lose her patience.

“Leave them alone, bitch,” Levi with a strained voice said. Hecate kicked you in the chest and forced you to let out a cry.

“Say that again, Captain? I didn’t hear you. Get her up.” The man forced you to sit up. She knelt in front of you and Hange eyed both of you. You couldn’t hide your tears. “This time it’s your choice . . . which one will get my knife?” A tear dripped onto the floor in front of you. “Hmm?” Hange swallowed and wheezed.

“Me. Just give—” Hecate cut your arm instead of Hange’s, making you shriek. You cried out, not being able to hold it in. You breathed hard. Erwin winced at the sight of you two.

“Once again, you or you?” Hange and you stayed silent. She sighed and kicked you to the floor again.

“She doesn’t know anything! Stop it!” Hanged yelled. Hecate grabbed Hange’s hair, forcing her head back.

“I see . . . you care for her . . . ” She let go of Hange’s head. Then she stood in front of you. “Where’s Eren Jaeger?” She asked Hange. She then held down the same arm she cut into earlier. Hecate started cutting into your arm next to the other one. You screamed trying to thrash your legs, but the man was holding you down. When she was done slicing you, you sobbed into the floor. Hecate sighed. “Take them downstairs.” One of the man jerked you and Hange up. You couldn’t look at anyone. The one man forced Levi up and his nose was bloody. The last man got Erwin up and he was stumbling and wincing trying to keep up with the man. Hange coughed and her vision was blurry. They pulled you toward an area where the stairs went down. Levi was the first forced down the steps. “Hold on.” Everyone froze anticipating what Hecate was going to say. “I want to ask her some questions,” she pointed at you. Hange’s eyes went wide as she felt another man grabbing her. She watched as the man who was holding both of you, pushed you back towards Hecate.

“NO! WAIT! TAKE ME INSTEAD! LEAVE HER ALONE!” Hange, Erwin and Levi were pushed down the stairs by the other man. You went out of sight and Hange noticed Levi glaring at her. The men threw them in a cell, locking it and walking back upstairs.

“Levi, untie my restraints,” Commander Erwin whispered. Levi turned around and tried his best to untie the knot while not being able to see it. Hange started crying again sitting down. Then Commander Erwin untied Levi who was pissed. He walked over to Hange and grabbed her shirt.

“YOU IDIOT!” Levi couldn’t care about his volume. “HOW STUPID COULD YOU BE?! YOU NEVER SHOW—” Hange jerked away from his grasp.

“I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT Y/N!” Hange said harshly

“DIDN’T WORK—”

“—I WOULD RATHER IT BE ME THAN HER!” Hange said. As Levi was about to retort back, the three of them heard you scream above them. Hange’s heart pounded and she started crying. Levi took off one of his shoes and threw it against the wall angrily. Erwin started untying Hange. She slid down the wall crouching into a ball. They could hear you begging.

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Then they heard you scream louder. Hange put her fingers in her ears, she closed her eyes. The special operations squad should come any moment. Hange then felt a pull on her shirt, again. Levi with a bloody face and a fire in his eyes was holding her.

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT. THE MOMENT YOU OPENED YOUR MOUTH. I KNEW THEY WOULD PICK HER!” Levi sneered.

“LEVI!” Erwin pulled Levi off Hange. Another scream was heard above.

“I was trying to get her to hurt me instead of Y/N!” Hange sobbed.

“Because you opened your mouth she knew you cared about her! The moment you do that they’ll torture her to get you to fucking talk!” Levi said. “My fiance is going to die BECAUSE OF YOU!” He pushed Hange into the wall.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Erwin asserted himself in front of Levi. “ENOUGH PULL IT TOGETHER! WE NEED TO THINK . . . let's look around and try to get out.” Levi put on his shoe and Hange covered her face, sobbing.

“STOP! PLEASE! NO!” They heard you above them. Hange got up and started coughing. She went into the corner gagging. Hange threw up in the corner. Levi kicked the cell door, it clanked and didn’t budge. About ten minutes later. It was quiet. They didn’t hear you screaming and they didn’t hear yelling from Hecate. Suddenly they heard soft footsteps descending from the stairs. Hange’s hope rose only for it to deplete when Hecate walked up to them. The knife she was holding was covered in blood

“Comfy?” Hecate taunted. They couldn’t look at her. “Terrible of you to not do anything about your friend . . . hey gorgeous!” Hange ignored her. “Fine . . . Anyone want to tell me where Eren is?” She started backing away, smirking. “I’ll just ask your friend.” She walked back up the stairs.

“Where are they?” Hange whispered frustratedly. Levi leaned with his arm against the wall. He was facing the wall, the pressure was building in his nose and he was blinking away any tears forming in his eyes. They heard a thud and they heard you screaming above them, Hange plugged her ears. She continued crying. The three had dried blood on them and they stayed helpless in the cell. They heard you scream, beg and cry for a while longer. Hange felt paralyzed listening to you scream. She couldn’t think of a way to save you or them. To her it was her fault, she shouldve kept her mouth shut. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if she kept her mouth shut. She hugged her knees. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. She glanced at Levi who had his forehead against his arm. In the distance they heard shattering, then some yelling. “Commander Erwin, THEY’RE HERE!” Levi turned around. There was a large boom above them and more screams and yells. Then suddenly rapid footsteps were descending the stairs. Moblit and Jean appeared.

“Section Commander!” Moblit exclaimed then he noticed the blood on Levi’s face and Erwin’s cuts.

“How’s Y/N?” Erwin demanded.

“Let us out!” Hange screamed.

“HOWS Y/N!?” Levi yelled. Jean unlocked the door with the key from one of Hecate’s men. Levi ran out of the cell and dashed up the stairs, Hange followed after him. Hecate was dead on the ground and scattered on the floor were her men. Levi saw you slumped against the wall, Sasha was holding you. You had no pants on and instead there was blood dripping on your legs. Multiple long cuts down the length of your legs.

“Captain!” Sasha exclaimed. “Captain, her pulse is faint.” Levi caressed you. Your eyes were closed and your head was nodded out. “I think she’ll need stitches.” He shook you a little waiting for a response. He was revolted at what Hecate did to you. He let anger get to him, gritted his teeth then went over to Hecate’s dead body and kicked her four times, grunting.

“Levi!” Hange pulled him away and Levi pushed her off of him. Hange saw Mikasa crying at the sight of you with Armin comforting you. Levi went over you and Sasha.

“She’ll need stitches, she lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to a hospital somewhere.”

“Sasha knows how stitch wounds.” Levi said.

“I don’t have any supplies.” Sasha said defeatedly. Connie ran into the room.

“I found a small first aid kit.” Connie said, panting. “We can clean her up and use whatever we can for now.” Sasha dashed over to Connie grabbing the first aid kit.

“Captain Levi, are you wounded? There’s a bunch of blood on your back.” Moblit asked.

“And on my face. Y/N is more important right now.” Levi said, his voice breaking. He could not lose another person he loves.

6th Debriefing Session:

Levi didn’t want to sit. He listened to Hange and Dr. Yates relayed the details to Commander Erwin. His time with you this time felt so short. This time was the most you, you have been since That Day. He stared at the window. Having the trees fill his vision. Watching some scouts walk by or sit on the grass. The sunset was emitting an orange sky. Your favorite. Erwin was right.

Levi leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes. There was nothing left, but to wait for the next episode. Levi didn’t mean to zone out. His frustrated thoughts were consuming him and he was with you the whole time. He was defeated and didn’t know how to take the next steps.

It felt like there was no improvement. As he gazed out the window, there were no positive thoughts. This was the life he was dealt. He abruptly turned around making Hange pause.

“What is it, Levi?” She asked softly. He looked at the ground while walking past the table. Pressure building in his nose, his eyes starting to gloss over. He looked over his shoulder locking eyes with Erwin who had a sympathetic expression. With everything he had in him, he tried not to break.

“Start t-the paperwork, commander,” Levi did not win.

Three weeks later:

Hange cautiously walked into your medical room. She held the door until it closed with a quiet click. She heard faint beeping and it was quiet. She knew Levi was behind the curtain sitting with you.

“I know it’s you, four-eyes.” Levi said shakenly. Hange walked around the curtain. Levi sat in a chair next to your bed. His arms were crossed and he was leaning back into the chair comfortably. Levi’s eyes were red and puffy. He looked at Hange and she saw the desperation in his eyes. Though he was sitting, there was no one around and so she stepped forward and hugged him. Levi nuzzled his face into her shoulder. Hidden, even though there was no one to hide from. Hange softly rubbed Levi’s back.

“In the morning, right?” She asked.

“Yes . . .'' Levi pulled away from Hange and he stared at you. You looked like you were sleeping. He stood up from his chair and offered Hange his seat. They looked at you for a while. Both filled with thoughts. One thought after another. Begged for a change of fate. “Do me a favor . . .” Levi said and Hange didn’t look at him. “Stop blaming yourself . . .'' Hange put her face into her hands. “ . . . I was an asshole that day. I was wrong for calling you an idiot. Nothing was ever your fault”

“Levi . . .” she did her best to muffle her crying. “I thought if I could make it seem like I knew where Eren was . . . they would leave her alone . . . If only they questioned me instead . . .”

“Stop talking like that.” Levi said defeatedly. “I’ve forgiven you and you need to start forgiving yourself.” She sniffled.

“I wish I wasn’t losing my best friend . . .” Hange said and they looked at each other, knowingly. Years they have relied on each other and built years of trust. “And you.” They laughed. Hange wiped a tear from her eye.

“Y/N would want you to visit.” Hange smiled.

“She would want all her friends to visit.” Hange said thinking of Sasha, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Connie, Christa, and anyone she saw Y/N sharing joyful moments with. Everyone liked her, even Annie.

“You don’t need to ask, drop by when you’re available. You could stay with us.” Levi said.

“I will . . . I want to be there with her.” Hange whispered. She gasped because she saw your hand jolt. It was more than a twitch, Hange stood up anticipating for any more movement. “Her hand moved! She can hear us.” Levi grabbed your hand and they both hovered over you. Waiting for any other sign of consciousness. You did not move. Hange brushed your hair with her fingers. “ . . . Y/N, It’s Hange . . . If you can hear me, I love you so much . . .” No movement. No twitching or any indication of consciousness. “I’ll visit you when I can . . .”

In the morning, Levi and you started traveling to Mitras. Erwin and Darius Zackly ensured to put you in one of the top hospitals in Mitras. Fortunatly you did improve. Your lucid episodes started becoming longer and the periods inbetween shortened. You were not triggered as much. Levi was by your side most of the time.

Two and a half years later after That Day you, Levi, and the psychologists hit a huge milestone. For six months you were lucid, your triggers no longer made you panic, scream and kick. You didn’t need to be sedated. You were able to relay the details of That Day without being triggered. Levi was allowed to take you out of the hospital and live togehter in the city. That day was now a painful memory. You didn’t cry when remembering it. Every now and then you would have nightmares about That Day, but when Levi woke you up you knew you were safe. You would calm down and then go back to sleep.

Two years and nine months after that day, Levi and you officially were married. Though he already considered you his wife, he was elated that it was official. Friends who visited you in the hospital were there. Most of the scouts who you knew attended. Commander Erwin was happy to see you healthy and happy to see Levi happier. Everyone mentioned how happy they were to see you healthy and like your old self. You met Sasha’s boyfriend, Niccolo at the wedding. But when she showed you a ring on her finger you met her fiance. You cheered and jumped up and down excitedly. You planned to hang out for a day with Mikasa and Sasha. Eren wanted to come, but Mikasa told him no.

Three years after that day, you barely thought of that day. You were free spirited and started to enjoy reading again. You mostly stayed home, cleaning, cooking and doing hobbies. Sometimes when the scouts were in town you’d invite your friends over for dinner. Most of the time you had a quiet and peaceful life.

Three years and two months later, Levi brought up the idea that he would return to the Survey Corps. You were confused and almost begging him to not return. You didn’t want something to happen to him while he was away with the scouts. You absolutely did not want to go back. You wanted Levi to stay with you and continue the peaceful life you had with him. He agreed that he had everything he wanted. A home, a beautiful wife, a peaceful life on the surface, but he felt like he had a duty to fulfill. That he needed to payback Commander Erwin for helping him with everything he’s done.

It took a while for you to come around, but you wanted Levi to feel fulfilled. You knew he was capable of doing everything he could to survive. You knew he would come back to you.

Three and a half years after that day, Levi returned to being Captain of the special operations squad. You would visit each other in your free time. Sometimes you felt lonely, but you lived a peaceful and safe life which is what Levi wanted for you.

Thank you for reading through the editing mistakes. It takes a good 50 mins to read through this whole story and I just need to study for finals rn LOL

Also i know the villians are random. Lol originally they were going to be Zeke Peick and Galliard but i couldnt imagine them doing shit that dark LMAO

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sweetsweetjellybean · 11 months

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If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 3 | Goodbye

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Adapted from As The World Burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Angst WC: 4221 Masterlist Here

The loud hiss in your ears drags you back to awareness from the depths of peaceful blackness. There is something off about the air you’re breathing. It’s cold and dry and leaves a plastic taste in your mouth, so different from the smoke.

The smoke.

Your eyes fly open as you bolt upright, only to have a hand on your shoulder force you back onto the bed.

“Steve!” Your cry is muffled by the mask covering your nose and mouth, forcing oxygen into your lungs. “Steve,” you try again, tears blurring your vision.

“He’s alright. It’s okay. You’re both safe.” A tall man in a tan uniform is holding you against the bed. “Easy now, kid. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

There’s a dull ache where the IV pulls the skin of your wrist and a tightness where your arm has been stitched and bandaged. The stern look on his face doesn’t hide the kindness in his eyes.

The whooshing sound of metal on metal accompanies the curtains surrounding your bed being drawn back.

“Ah, good. She’s awake,” says a shorter man dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat. “I’m Dr. Timmons, but everyone around here just calls me Doc.” He picks up the chart hanging from the end of your bed as a nurse pushes past him, moving to your side.

“Just a minute, and we’ll get that off you, sweetheart,” she soothes, replacing the oxygen mask with tubing that fits into your nose and wraps around each ear. “There, that’s better,” she says, satisfied, continuing on to check the bag of fluid that’s connected to your IV.

The police officer stepped back a few paces to give the nurse room to work and now stands with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the doctor with a blank expression.

“You came to us in quite a state,” the doctor says, looking up from the chart. “Can you tell us what happened to you?”

“She doesn’t need to go into all that, doc,” the policeman interrupts, “It’s just like the boy said - they were exploring a cave when the earthquake hit and got trapped inside.”

“I know that’s what you sa-”

“She’s not going to tell you any different. Isn’t that right, kid?” The policeman asks without taking his eyes off the doctor.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you say with a strained voice, becoming aware of the burning in your throat, “Can I have some water, please?”

“I’ll get that for you, sweetie,” the nurse says, pulling the curtain and walking out into the busy ER.

“Look, Hopper, her injuries contradict that story. I’m gonna need some more answers here,” Dr. Timmons’ tone has changed, clearly frustrated by being given the runaround.

“We’ve got people looking into it,” Hopper assures, crowding into the doctor’s space, “The kids are back safe and sound. You don’t need the hassle of filling out all that paperwork. You just get her all fixed up, doc. Let me handle the rest.” He takes another step closer and lowers his voice, “Just like I did after you tied one on at hideaway and decided to get behind the wheel.”

The doctor blanches, his face taking on a deep shade of plum. “Fine. We’ll do it your way, Hopper, but I’m admitting her.” He slams your chart into the hook at the end of your bed and points at you. “You’re staying put until your blood oxygen is over 95. You got that?”

Moving your head up and down you mumble a ‘yes’ before the doctor turns back to Hopper. “I’m going to go do my job if that’s alright with you.”

“By all means,” Hopper says with a wave of his hand as Dr. Timmons angrily pulls back the curtain, almost crashing into the nurse that had come back with some water. Hopper takes it from her and shuts the curtains behind them.

“You did good, kid.” He hands you the plastic cup with the straw.

“Please, I need to see Steve.” Your eyes sting as they fill with tears. You have to see that he’s okay, that this is real. That it was all real.

“He’ll be right back, I promise,” He says, trying to soothe you. “He wants to see you, too. That dummy wouldn’t get looked at until he knew you were okay. Nancy had to drag him away to get his hand stitched up.”

Nancy.

“Look, I know you two have been through hell, but I’m going to need you to do me a favor and keep all this to yourself, okay?” He waits for you to nod your head. “I’ll explain more to you when you’re out of here, but staying quiet for now is safer for everyone.”

“I–” You’re cut off when the curtain opens, and you’re met with Steve’s bloodshot eyes. Ashes cling to the strands of his hair. His face is streaked with soot and blood. The only clean spot surrounds the bandage covering his temple, but he’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. The relief you feel pushes the tears over your lash line, leaving black drops on the white sheet as they run down your face.

“She’s awake,” Hopper points out the obvious, breaking the silent connection between you and Steve.

“I noticed,” Steve says, shooting Hopper a look before returning his attention to you, “Are you okay?”

It’s then you notice the petite brunette at his side. Her caramel curls swirl around her questioning blue eyes as she looks back and forth between you and Steve.

“I’m Nancy,” she introduces herself before you can answer him, her tiny hand winding around his elbow.

So this is her. A low pain travels from your gut to your chest. “Hi,” you address her with a forced smile. “I’m alright,” your eyes bounce back to Steve’s, “Just a little smokey.” You place a hand over your burning throat.

The screech of the curtain cuts off any further conversation.

“Goodness,” the nurse says, clutching a small stack of papers to her chest, “You kids aren’t supposed to be in here. We made an exception for Chief Hopper.” She pulls your chart from the end of the bed to add the paperwork. “We have a room already for you upstairs.” She squeezes between Hopper and your bed to unhook you from the monitors.

“They’re keeping me overnight,” you explain to Steve, who opens his mouth to protest.

“She needs some oxygen, Harrington. She’ll be alright,” Hopper reassures him.

“That’s right, and you, sir, should be going home to rest,” the nurse says to Steve, “Concussions are nothing to be taken lightly.

Looking toward Steve, you suck in a breath. He’s hurt, and you’ll be apart. Anxiety directs your hand, sliding across the bed in his direction, but he’s just out of reach.

“Maybe I should stay with her..” Steve hedges, placing his good hand on the bed inches from yours.

“Come on, Steve,” Nancy says, covering his hand with her own and pulling it away from you along with his attention, “She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to protect her.” She rolls her eyes with a dismissive laugh. “Besides, you need someone to keep waking you up. You can come home with me, okay?” Her question comes out almost shyly, looking up at him from under her lashes. As his hand tightens around hers, you realize you were right all along. Everything does happen for a reason.

He promises he’ll be back first thing in the morning before leaving with her hand in his. As you’re wheeled to your room, you see him enveloped in a hug by a group of young teens, Nancy’s hand running up and down his back. A peace settles over you, blanketing your pain. Everything is as it should be.

The sheets and blankets on your hospital bed are dry and warm, but you still can feel the cold. The nurses helped you clean up and got you something warm to eat. Despite your exhaustion, you still can't fall asleep. You've been lying on your side facing the window ever since they left you alone. The cracked top of the library's clock tower interrupts your view of the blue sky and drifting white clouds. Colors you hadn't expected to see again.

If you stand, you might be able to see the closed seam of the gate you fell through, now nothing more than a scar on this town that will soon heal and be forgotten. You may not be as lucky. Some wounds are just too deep. With all the credit you give fate, you can't imagine one so cruel that you're meant to survive losing Steve Harrington.

As the light fades, the sky is streaked with creamy tangerines and pinks, but when your eyes close, all you can see is red. It’s hard to remember that you should be grateful. You’re home, and you’re safe. This is what you wanted. He saved you. He gave that to you. He gave you everything. And you took, without thinking twice. There’s nothing more that you can ask from him. After everything he’s done for you, you can’t ask him to love you. Not when it means he’s giving up the one thing he’s always wanted–Her.

“Sweetie, why aren’t you resting?” The nurse has come in to change the bag of fluid attached to your IV. “Are you in pain?” She asks.

So much.

“Just a little,” you reply, “I’m just having trouble falling asleep.” Your eyes don’t stray from the darkening sky. Stars are just beginning to appear.

“Well, the good news is that your oxygen levels are looking normal. You’ll be going home in the morning.” She moves into your line of sight, and you force your lips into a tight smile.

“Do you want something to help you sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

She returns a few minutes later, injecting something into the line attached to your wrist. There's a burst of cold as the fluid enters your veins and your eyelids begin to droop. The chill at your back reminds you of his absence. One last truth echoes through your consciousness before you're dragged into the depths of sleep.

He was never really yours.

"He wanted to come himself," Hopper says from behind a pair of dark sunglasses, his eyes never straying from the road ahead as you bump along in his Chevy Blazer. The extended weather report for the week playing softly on the radio.

"I'm sure," you reply, watching the scenery of Hawkins blur by outside your window.

"Nancy was worried about him driving," he continues to try explaining why he is the one picking you up from the hospital instead of Steve.

"Of course. Makes sense." Your acceptance sounds contrived, even to your own ears. Seeing him will just make things harder, anyway. A new voice crackles from the radio, interrupting your thoughts.

"Two missing students have been found alive and well after being missing for several weeks after yet another earthquake rocked the small town of Haw-"

Hopper’s hand shoots down to twist the knob on the radio, tuning the static until he lands on a station playing Jim Croce.

“I hear the motel six is pretty nice. They've got a pool, right?”

“They did. It cracked during the earth–” you correct yourself, “Gate opening.”

"Perdue kept paying for your room while the search was on. So everything should be how you left it."

“Well, it's a pretty good school.”

He nods. “You're studying rocks, right?”

“Geology.”

“Same thing,” he says, turning onto Main Street. Traffic flows easily, most of the roadblocks have been taken down, and repairs to the buildings are already underway. “Are you ready to get back to it?”

“I don't know. Studying the mysteries of the earth doesn't seem that exciting once you've been trapped in another dimension.”

The noise that comes from him is somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. “I see why he likes you.”

“Did you know where I was?” You ask as you pass by the library. It looks the same as you left it. Half of it rubble, a crack running up the clock-tower, a few dead vines still clinging to its side.

His mouth twists as he shakes his head. “When the gate closed, it sent the town back into chaos, and we were focused on getting Steve back. I didn’t know you were missing until the folks with your school reported it. I should have guessed.”

“He didn’t think you were coming,” you tell him, your voice turning quiet. The music is too soft for him not to have heard you, but he doesn’t react.

"Look, you seem like a smart girl. If Harrington has already filled you in, I don't suppose I need to tell you why it's important to keep this to yourself. I don't want the government here poking and prodding my daughter or Steve or the rest of them. It's for your safety as well as theirs. Can I count on you to do the right thing here?”

"I understand. Believe me, the last thing I want is any trouble. I won't say a word."

“I’ve been down there, ya know. A couple of times. I can only imagine what you had to do to survive.” His face gives nothing away as his wrist casually rests on top of the wheel, but his statement is more of a question, and this conversation isn’t going to end until he finds the answers he’s searching for.

“It wasn’t….” you trail off, shaking your head, “Steve kept us safe.”

“Never would’ve expected anything less from Harrington. That kid throws himself between danger and someone he cares about without thinking twice. He’s a lot like my daughter in that way.”

“Eleven?” You ask, putting the pieces together.

He nods, continuing his thoughts, "Those damn kids think he's a hero–"

"He is," you say matter-of-factly without any hesitation. After everything, you won't hear otherwise.

The man's lips twitch, rising at the corners before he turns his head and peers at you from over his glasses, "Hmm. Well, they all want to meet you, hear what happened," he says before turning his eyes back to the road. "Nancy insisted on waiting one more day to let you two get some rest. She can be a little um…intense." His head bobs, pleased with his choice of words. "Now, Steve. That kid decided that she was the one back in high school. Hasn't changed his mind even though she's broken his heart a few times since then," he looks over at you again, "Me? I'm not so convinced."

"Well, thanks for filling me in on that, Chief." You try to keep the sarcasm out of your voice as you move your head back toward the window.

"You can call me Hopper," amusement laces his tone, "And I thought you might like to know, is all."

“Why would I want to know that?”

“Look, kid, I’m not one to get involved in–"

Blowing out a breath of disbelief, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Okay. Maybe I am. Harrington reminds me a little of myself at that age, and I'm just trying to save the kid some misery."

“You must be a good cop, Hopper. Do people always tell you what you want to know?”

“One way or another,” he says with a sly smile, pulling into the motel parking lot. He kills the engine and pulls a blue and red keychain from his pocket. He drops the subject moving on to the next item on his agenda. “I already stopped at the office and got your key, so you can go on in and rest. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around one and bring you to meet the others. If you get reporters calling you, remember what we talked about."

“Thanks for the ride, Hopper. Don’t worry, I won’t forget.” Not any of it.

Your key sticks in the lock, and you apply a little pressure with your hip, forgetting about your stitches, until your arm bumps the door, sending pain shooting through your arm. Dust motes rise into the stale smelling air as you push into the small room. As Hopper said, everything is just as you left it. Every surface is covered with maps and books. Stacks of samples packed into boxes sitting on the floor. Extra climbing equipment and your open suitcase overflowing with clothes take up all the space on the extra bed. Having requested no housekeeping, the bed you last slept in remains unmade. An indent from your head is still clearly visible on your pillow. It’s all yours, but none of it feels familiar, like it all belongs to someone else-a girl you used to know.

“Thanks, Caroline. Yeah, there’s somebody at the door.”

“Just a minute,” you call with your hand over the phone receiver when another knock sounds from the other side of your door.

“Sorry. I don’t know,” you say, continuing your phone call, “Yup, I will. See you tomorrow. 10:30. Okay, Bye.”

Getting up from the bed, you pull your arms through the sleeves of an old cardigan to fight off the chill from the night air, your hair still damp from the shower. “Who is it?” You ask, looking through the peephole.

“Steve,” the reply comes at the same time you catch sight of the familiar chestnut hair.

The sound of his voice sends a dozen different emotions buzzing under your skin as your nervous fingers work open the lock. Taking a deep breath, you swing open the door, but the sight of him steals all the air away. Freshly shaven, hair perfectly styled, wearing a mustard-colored sweatshirt with an expensive-looking watch strapped to his wrist. His eyes lock with yours and you're alone together for the first time since the Upside-Down.

“Are you going to let me in?” He asks when the silence has stretched out between you.

“Yeah. Of course,” you say, backing into your room, “I’m sorry.”

He moves inside, closing the door behind him. As if it’s a habit, he steps closer to you, moving into your space. His arms rise like he plans on reaching for you, but his fists close around nothing before retreating into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. Sometimes you hate being right. He’s made his choice. Tugging at the ends of your cardigan, you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold in the pieces of your broken heart.

"Do you want to sit?" You ask, nodding toward the spare bed with your packed suitcase on it.

“Sure,” he says, moving toward the bed. He takes a seat on the edge, wiping his hands along the worn denim of jean-covered thighs, long legs taking up most of the space between the two beds. Stepping over his legs, you pull up the rumpled bed covers before sitting opposite of him, wiggling your hands under your thighs so you won’t be tempted to touch him.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be driving,” you blurt out a little too direct.

His face falls. “I’m not,” he replies, looking a bit sheepish, “Shit. I should have been there this morning. Nance con–”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can’t ask you for anything more, Steve,” you try reassuring him, but you know it’s not coming out right.

“Ask me?” His brows pull together in the middle, “You’ve never asked me for anything.”

“No. I just meant..” You shake your head, trying to clear away whatever this is between you that’s stopping you from connecting to him like you had before. “I just…are you okay? Does your head hurt?”

“No. Everything’s alright. Everyone is just overreacting. What about you? Your arm? Are you breathing okay?” This time he does reach out, his hand landing on your knee, the warmth of it almost feels like a burn.

“I’m fine,” you say, looking away from his hand, “I’ll just need to make a follow-up appointment in a few weeks at home.”

“Home?” His hand withdrawals to his own lap and looks over his shoulder at the suitcase behind him.

“Yeah, back to school. We both get our lives back, thanks to you. See, I was right. You did save me, Harrington,” you try keeping your tone light, a small smile on your mouth.

“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure we did it together.”

You can see he’s conflicted, not ready to face the truth that’s hanging over your heads, invisibly flashing like a neon sign-you don’t fit in with each other’s lives here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right? Everyone wants to meet you. Especially Henderson. That little shit keeps saying he needs to hear what happened from another person of science.” He quotes the title with his fingers fighting back a smile as he shakes his head, feigning annoyance, but it’s no secret how much he loves them all.

“I wish I could. I have to get back.” This is it. It’s time. “My friend from school is picking me up in the morning.”

“That soon? I could have driven you.” He frowns.

“Steve, you’ve got a life here. Your friends are waiting for you to come back to it.” And so do you, even if it’s going to feel different than the one you left behind. This has changed you. He has changed you. You love him enough not to take any more from him.

“They’ll understand. We’ve….we….I could stay with you for a few days.” He’s arguing, but you know deep down he knows it won’t work.

“Steve–”

“Until your stitches are out. Just to make sure you're okay.”

“And what would Nancy say about that?”

His mouth opens, but the words aren’t there.

“It's okay, Steve,” you give him a smile, “It’s okay. I'm glad she’s finally seeing you for the good man that you are.” The way I do. “You deserve that.”

“This doesn’t feel right,” he says, swallowing hard, a pained look on his face, “After everything…you and I….”

“We’re going to be alright.” Your voice cracks on the last word, but you don’t let your smile slip. He stands, reaching for your hand, pulling you into his chest. Your eyes close as your arms circle his waist, breathing him in for what might be the last time. His warmth surrounds you, fills you. It has you wishing you could bottle it. Take it with you. Let it tide you over until you feel this way again with someone else. It will never be him, but you have time now. He gave that to you. And with that time the memories will fade away, and you’ll be happy again.

“I meant every word I said,” he whispers against your ear. His fingers press tightly into your back like he might not let you go, and god, you don’t want him to.

“I know. Me too.” Your head tips back so he can see your face, and you hope he’ll remember this as truth. “You’ll always be my hero.”

He looks down at you, eyes shining before they close. His head dips until he can place a chaste kiss on your mouth, letting his lips linger long enough that you can memorize their soft feeling. His hand caresses your cheek, and he steps back. Without his touch tethering you, it feels like you might float away.

“I should go,” he says, his hands shoving back into his pockets, and you nod, ready to have this end.

“Please explain to Hopper for me,” you say, following him to the door.

“I will.” His hand turns the knob, opening your room to the cold night. Once his feet are over the threshold, he turns back toward you. “Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t go falling down any more rabbit holes.”

“I’ll try,“ you chuckle, “Stay safe. Let them take care of you for once.”

His eyes roll before he nods. “If you ever need me–”

“I know where to find you.” You grip the edge of the door to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Okay.” His head bobs more as he looks down at his feet, a stubborn lock of hair falling over his forehead.

“Steve?”

He looks up, letting you get lost in the warm amber of his eyes one last time.

“Think about me sometimes, okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about that, honey,“ he says, lips turning up despite his sad eyes, “I’m always going to be thinking about you.”

The hollow ache in your chest spreads through your whole body, and tears escape, running hot over your skin. Before you can blink, his thumb is there, brushing them away.

“How about one more smile?”

“Yeah,” you sniff, swiping at your eyes quickly before putting all your love and hope for him into a smile, wanting him to take it with him.

“Bye, Steve.”

“Bye.”

His shoulders turn toward the parking lot and you close the door. Your tears fall unrestrained as you turn the bolt and slide the chain into place. Turning, you lean against the door and sink down to the floor, covering your face with both hands as you sob. Knowing that it was the right thing to let him go because only the right thing could be this hard.

AN: I decided to split to chapter it was just going to be too long. Besides, I made a really cute banner for the next part. So stay tuned Part 4 The Reason will coming soon. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you think. xoxo -Jelly

Beta'd by @superblysubpar

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #if tomorrow never comes #steve harrington x fem

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