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barry-j-blupjeans · 4 months ago

Note

hello i love ur writing and fics and ur very talented and i RESPECT THE FUCK out of ur work ethic… request… can i get some good good angus hurt/comfort idc who i just wanna see that boy b loved and also angsting

Hi!!

1) Thank you so much slkdfsdf!! I try my best to be consistent at the vv least slfdsfd

2) This got kinda long!! I'm gonna put most of it below a read more, but you can also find it on ao3! either way, I rr appreciate comments n reblogs n stuff :O!!

3) Unspecified hurt/comfort turned out to just be a fic about Angus w chronic pain bc I needed someone to vent onto sldkf. all of Angus's experiences are based on my own and what helps/hinders me.

I hope u enjoy it!! n thank you, again!!

Angus had the distinct feeling that something was wrong with him. No, scratch that. He knew something was wrong with him. Not in the condescending way adults always did, like "Angus you're too small to be in this line of work!" or "Angus, isn't it past your bedtime?" or "Angus, Angus, Angus, you're too little, you're not smart enough, you're not mature enough."

No, Angus knew that was a bunch of bullshit. Frankly, he was more mature than half the people used to he worked with, which wasn't all too surprising considering it was the militia. But no, it wasn't that. And it wasn't that he was "different" from other people his age. He was a prodigy, no doubt, but that wasn't the thing that was wrong.

Angus was... fucked up. He knew how people were supposed to work, physically and emotionally. So he knew people weren't supposed to be in pain most if not all of the day, every day, on end. He knew the consistent stabbing in his legs wasn't normal and the fatigue and the aching definitely weren't right. He'd say it wasn't a problem, except for the fact that logically, it was. No one should be existing in pain every day.

But if there was one thing Angus prided himself on, it was figuring out how to fix problems on his own.

Over the years, he'd been very carefully and quietly researching how to help his pain. He couldn't let anyone know, because then they wouldn't let him work and he loved working. They'd put him on bed rest or send him to a doctor and while doctors could be useful in normal situations, none of them ever knew what to do with Angus. It always came back to,

"But you're too young."

(read on ao3 or click below!)

Which is one of the biggest reasons Angus hadn't said a word about it after moving onto the moon. In his militia job, they had required physicals. Angus had been referred to a pediatrician, which had endlessly annoyed him even if he understood why. His grandpa had always taught him to be honest with doctors, so when the pediatrician asked him if he was having any physical problems, he had explained. And they told his boss, who told the matron at the base, who told a few others.

It had been a mess, for a while. So Angus was keeping his lips shut tight about it all.

It was just harder on the moon. He had been incredibly uncomfortable the first few days but Mr. Avi had assured him that that was normal for newcomers. Sure, Mr. Avi had said "one or two days" and Angus's extra bad pain had lasted a week, but he dealt with it. He had pain potions for when it got really bad, but he didn't like using them if it was only sort of bad.

But on the moon, everyone was closer-knit. The base had a much more open floorplan than the militia had, but people were more likely to look at you as you went past them. He had to be careful about not limping or wincing with each step. He had to make sure he wasn't sitting down more often than a regular person his age would because that would raise suspicions. Some days were worse, but after a while, Angus settled back into his routine of "okay until a flare-up" and went about his business.

Today was a bad day. Today was an awful day, even. Today, Angus was carrying a pain potion with him, which was saying something because he hated taking those. They made him feel like he couldn't do anything by himself, like he wasn't strong enough. If he gave in and took the pain potion, that was sort of like admitting he was in pain and he couldn't do that because then everyone would just treat him like a little kid. People here were good about respecting him despite his age and every pain potion he took was like a step away from that happy feeling of being included.

It's a "just in case" at the bottom of his bag that Angus had been firmly ignoring. He had woken up late and it had set him on edge. Most of the morning had been spent trying to read in the library, but he just couldn't focus long enough. Now it's lunch, past lunch, even, because Angus is one of the few left in the cafeteria. He stared at his lunch- a corn beef sandwich and broccoli cheddar soup. His lunch stared back.

Angus didn't want to eat this. He felt bad. His wrists felt like wooden rulers, unbending and strict. He felt like his stomach was churning and his bones were the gravity that was keeping them in orbit with the planet below. He felt like a rock at the bottom of the sea. He felt like-

"Good afternoon, Angus," a pleasant voice his right said. Angus clocked his brain back in. Madam Director was standing at the edge of the table. "Do you mind if I sit? I had a few things I wanted to discuss with you about a possible relic find."

Angus sat up straight. The best he could, at least. He said a quick, "of course, Director!" and pushed his lunch aside, pulling up his bag and retrieving a notebook from inside. The pain potion sloshed threateningly at him. Angus ignored it. He opened the notebook.

"It's the Temporal Chalice," she said. "There's a bubble, located in the Woven Gulch that we think might be- Angus, are you okay?"

"What?" Angus asked. And then he realized he hadn't been writing anything down. His hands hurt when he flexed them. Holding his pencil was uncomfortable. He ignored it. "Sorry, Madam, I zoned out for a second. Could you repeat that?"

"The Temporal Chalice," Madam Director repeated. "I think it's currently located in the Woven Gulch. Another seeker spotted a magical bubble and- Angus, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Angus said, ignoring the throbbing in his hand. His wrists were now aching. His fingers were aching. He was aching everywhere. He quickly added a "Ma'am" because he realized he had forgotten.

"I don't think so," Madam Director said gently. "I can come back-"

"No!" Angus said. "I'm- I really am fine, Madam Director! My wrists just hurt a bit, I think I was gripping my pencil too hard earlier."

She was silent, staring at him with an appraising expression. Angus swallowed. After a moment, she sighed, shaking her head. Very slowly and carefully, she reached out and dragged the notebook towards herself. Angus didn't know what was happening anymore, so he didn't stop her.

"Angus," she said, closing the notebook and setting it aside with his lunch. "Talk to me."

"I am talking to you," Angus said, flushing. "And I'm telling you I'm fine, Madam Director!"

"I'm not gonna push you on it," she said, holding her hands up to show her innocence. "But I'd like to know if I can help you."

"You can't," Angus bit out. "Help me, I mean. I'm fine. Also, it's very weird that you, my boss, are asking me to spill my personal secrets. Uhm, Ma’am."

"I'm not your boss," Madam Director said. "Well, I am. But I'm not asking as your boss. I'm asking as a- a friend, Angus. And I understand if that's weird but I truly do care about everyone on this base and I'd like to help, if I can. Even if it's just talking. That'll be my final offer. If you don't want to, then we can get back to business."

Angus was silent. He glanced around the now empty cafeteria. No one would hear them if he wanted to talk. Angus rubbed at his wrists, thinking. Who was to say that the Director wouldn't rat him out to everyone else on the base? If she thought the pain was "too overwhelming" for him and made him rest instead of work? He glanced back at her. He must have been silent for too long, because Madam Director slid his journal back over to him and said,

“The Temporal Chalice.”

Angus made sure to write it down this time, gritting his teeth and making himself focus.

In the end, it wasn’t too hard to figure out that the Chalice was inside the magical bubble. What was hard was figuring out what else was inside. They had no way of knowing what they were sending the Reclaimers into and Angus tried not to be worried about it, but it was hard. And it got infinitely harder the moment the cannon blasted them through and Angus’s stone of farspeech buzzed and crackled, the connection dropping.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Madam Director said after a tense moment of silence.

Today was a good pain day. Meaning he was still in pain, but he could do normal things like stand and walk for extended periods of time. He had paced rather obsessively waiting for the Reclaimers to get planetside and his legs only hurt moderately from it. Now, he was seated across from the Director while she pretended to write and Angus pretended to read.

They were both rather good at pretending, Angus had found.

The Director hissed, making Angus look up from the book he hadn’t been processing. She shook out her hand, holding her wrist. After a second, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Several things popped.

“Are you alright, Madam Director?” Angus asked and she grimaced as she had only just remembered he was there. She sat up a bit straighter again.

“Hand pain,” she explained, stretching her hand back with a wince.

“Oh,” Angus said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Thank you, but no,” she said with a small smile. “I’m quite alright.”

“Okay, ma’am,” Angus said. He stared back at his book. She picked up her pencil. And then she set down her pencil and she seemed to pause. Angus was looking at her over the top of his book and she was frowning at her desk, not particularly focused on anything. After a tense moment where Angus had to look back at his book to avoid staring, she said,

“Actually Angus, I would like to talk about it, if you wouldn’t mind. My hand pain, I mean.”

“Oh,” Angus said again. “Oh, of course, ma’am!” He set aside his book and sat up straighter, folding his hands in his lap. “Talk away!”

“Well,” she started, flexing her fingers and wincing. “Would you happen to know what arthritis is, would you?”

“I do, ma’am,” Angus said. “Is that’s what’s up with your- your hand?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said with a melancholy sort of smile. “It was originally juvenile arthritis, but as you can see I’m no longer juvenile.” Here, she chuckled slightly and Angus did too, though he didn’t really find it all that funny. “And I’ve found a few things that have helped over the years, but I was wondering, Angus, what you would recommend? For- for pain relief.”

“Uhm,” Angus said, about to be the biggest hypocrite in the world. “Pain potion?”

“Hmm,” the Director said like she hadn’t thought about that before. “That’s a good one, yeah. Anything else?”

“I’m not stupid, ma’am,” Angus said, trying to phrase it gently but it just came off as sort of annoyed. “I know you’re playing it up. I’m sorry about your hand, though, I really am. But arthritis is- it’s chronic so I don’t know much more that I can say besides pain potions and rest.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply that you’re stupid,” she said patiently. “And I’m well aware my conditions chronic. But there’s more to it than just pain medication and rest. In fact,” she leaned forward like it was a big secret. “I’ve got some other tips and tricks up my sleeve about it. If someone wanted to know.”

Angus let out a shuddering breath. So she knew about him. He could rectify this. She wasn’t reacting like his boss at the militia had. And if she dealt with chronic pain herself, she could be more receptive to his troubles without treating him like a child or downplaying it.

“How do you always know everything?” he asked instead of rising to her bait. “That’s the secret I want to know, ma’am. You’ve got prying eyes anywhere? Listening ears?”

“I run a secret organization on the moon,” the Director said dryly. “I’ve grown accustomed to knowing both everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. If you don’t want me to know, then I won’t know. I’ll never bring it up again. I’m simply offering us a way to, uh-” she glanced at the wall. It had been twenty minutes since the reclaimers went offline. “Pass the time. And perhaps a way to help manage your pain a little better. No one else has noticed, Angus, but you do tend to limp a bit.”

Fuck, Angus thought.

“Fuck,” Angus said out loud.

“Here,” the Director said, standing up. She took her notebook with her and rounded the desk, sitting on the chair next to Angus instead of the one behind the desk and across from him. “Now I’m not your boss.”

“I’m not sure that’s how that works, ma’am,” Angus said, but he was smiling a bit.

“It’s exactly how it works,” Lucretia assured, flipping open her notebook to a blank page. She grabbed her pen from the desk and wrote, with a slight wince, “One, pain potions or meds. We know those work.” She glanced up at him. “But we don’t always want to take them.”

“You do that too?” Angus asked. “I thought I was being- I thought I was being childish about it. I-”

“It’s not childish,” Lucretia said. “For me, I want to be able to handle stuff by myself. I think along the lines of “oh, Lucretia, you built a moonbase, you can handle your pain” or “oh, Lucretia, you’re a published author, a little more pain can’t get you down.””

“You’re published?” Angus asked, but Lucretia brushed over it.

“But those thoughts aren’t true,” she said. “Yes, we’ve done some pretty badass shit. Like moonbases or capturing train murders-” Angus grinned. “But we’re just people when it comes down to it, Angus. And people can’t function if we’re in pain all the time. So, for reasons to take pain medication-” she made bullet points below the first line. “To function properly. To live comfortably. Anything else?”

“To work better?” Angus suggested and she nodded, writing that down.

“It’s very hard to work when you’re in pain, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Lucretia said. “Number two. Ice. Having something cold on it. I find that when my wrists tend to swell up, putting ice on them can help. It reduces the swelling and cools me off because the inflamed area is often very hot. Do you deal with swelling?”

“I… don’t know, ma’am,” Angus said. “I think sometimes, maybe? But not always.”

“Still,” Lucretia said. “Ice can do amazing things just for helping you relax and sometimes that’s just what you need, Angus. You gotta let yourself just chill sometimes. Pun definitely intended. There’s no point in pushing it or the pain will get worse. We’ve got a spa on base, I highly recommend it. Though you don’t want to go with Merle.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Angus said, trying to stop himself from giggling at the idea of Lucretia and Merle in a mudbath with face masks together.

“Three,” she said. “We’re gonna go in the exact opposite direction. Heat. Not just heating pads, but hot showers or baths can do wonders. I love me a hot bath. You?”

“I don’t usually have time to take a bath,” Angus said. “But hot showers work really well, I’ve noticed!”

“Maybe make time for a bath,” Lucretia suggested. “I’ve got some bath bombs you can borrow, they’re heavenly. Just don’t tell anyone I’m the one who gave you them.

“Number four,” she moved on. “Just like. Lay down.”

“Lay down?” Angus repeated.

“Lay down,” Lucretia said. “Just sit on your bed and lay down.”

“Sleep?” Angus said. “I think that’s sleep.”

“This isn’t sleeping,” Lucretia said, scribbling that down like it was a very important note. “You don’t even have to close your eyes. But laying down is great because your body has been working all day to keep you upright and sometimes you just need to not deal with gravity for a while. It doesn’t usually reduce anything, like the others might, but you just get the chance to exist for a while instead of trying to do things. To go back to tip two, you gotta let yourself chill for a bit. Feel the moment.”

“What if- what if the moment is painful?” Angus asked, worrying his lip between his teeth. “And you don’t wanna feel it?”

“Feel as in acknowledging and accept it,” Lucretia corrected. “Not as in revel in it. Something that also helps with this is weight. Like a weighted blanket or just several blankets piled on top of you. You’ve got a weighted blanket, right?”

“I got one for Candlenights!” Angus said. “So- so I can do that, I think.”

“Good,” Lucretia said. She glanced down at the list and then at the clock on the wall. It had been thirty-five minutes since the reclaimers went offline. Angus saw Lucretia take a deep breath and then look back down that the journal. She stood up, one or two pops sounding, and circled back around to her desk. She was smiling as she set her journal down and even through her tense posture, Angus could tell she meant well.

“Is it bad?” he asked suddenly, unable to help himself. “That I’m- that we’re… like this? I just want people to take me seriously and I- I have to work so much harder for that just because I’m like this. Isn’t that- abnormal? Uh, ma’am.”

“I don’t think it’s bad,” she said carefully. “We’re normal people, Angus. Well,” she glanced around at the room, her grin getting a bit wider. “As normal as we can be here, at least. But there’s nothing bad about us or who we are. Please try to remember that. Here-” she scribbled something down on the paper and ripped it out of her journal, passing it over the desk for Angus to have. “Keep that. I’ve got my list on the wall next to my bed. Maybe you could put yours somewhere similar?”

The list outlined what they had talked about in quick notes. At the bottom, she had written, “you’re worth the effort you make!” with a little thumbs up next to it. Angus grinned, holding the note to his chest.

“Thank you,” he said, a bit teary. She finally sat down in her chair again. It creaked slightly under her. “Really, Madam Director, this means a lot!”

“Just doing my job,” the Director said, winking.

#angus mcdonald #lucretia #taz lucretia #taz angus #taz balance #mine #asks #anon #thank u :D!!

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