#I am still recovering from the third flu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drdemonprince · 1 year

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hey!! i've been watching your amazing top surgery recovery on insta and i'm wondering if you have any tips/secrets to recovering so quickly??! i've been looking into top surgery but have been so intimidated because everything i've read about the recovery process makes it seem like it'll take months and that's something that's not realistic for me with my limited support system + limited time off work but goddamn i would love to get my tits chopped off asap. i read something about how you gotta b

continued: be prepared to not physically be able walk around or lift more than a jug of apple juice for like two months post-op and that's been scaring me off top surgery cuz that's just not sustainable for me!!

Yeah, so I do think some people are really really overstating how incapacitating the procedure has to be, and that some of that is a holdover of doctor's historical approaches to treating patients.

Like historically, wealthy pregnant women were sometimes in bed nearly the full duration of their pregnancies, and just in general medicine used to believe that the best way for a patient to heal was for them to be lying down doing as little as possible (and being as compliant and inobtrusive as possible), and I believe that might still color some surgeon's recommendations today. Even though we know that gentle movement and maintaining function where one can is good for healing!

Now, my experience with surgery has been far and away better than that of anyone I've heard of so far for a couple of reasons, some that are within a patient's control, some that are not.

The first thing is that I have a high pain tolerance and love moving around, I need to move around to feel good, it's just very helpful for my mental health and sensory regulation. Even when I have the flu or COVID, I still tend to lift weights and take walks -- maybe at a slightly diminished capacity, maybe taking a day off if I feel incapable, but I generally want to move and find it easy to start moving quickly even when I'm sick or in pain.

2. The second piece is, you guessed it, my activity level. Before surgery, I was lifting weights for a half hour each day, five days per week. I'd been doing roughly that amount for a couple of years. I also live in a city and don't have a car so I walk a lot, take the stairs when I can, go out dancing sometimes, and just generally stay pretty active. We could chalk this up as a "choice" but that would be to ignore the fact that I'm capable of doing that much activity and I enjoy it. If I had kids, a 9-5 office job, physical disabilities that impacted my ability to exercise, elder care responsibilities, or anything else, I couldn't work out five days per week. But I personally can. And that has either been good for my health, or is just a signal of the fact that I am in good health.

3. That brings us to the third piece: I don't really have any health issues that get in the way of healing. I get over colds relatively quickly, and aside from a bout of anemia and severe burnout in my mid 20s and some knee pain that I gave myself from using a standing desk for two long that seems to never go away, I've made it to 35 without too many scratches on the vehicle.

Right now I'm probably in the best health of my life, both because of my activity levels and just really finally getting on top of cooking myself meals most days of the week, lots of like fish and veggies and rice and quinoa and shit (I used to survive on power bars far too often. they're still nice. but cooking dinner regularly has made me feel more nourished and strong). Again a lot of that is being lucky enough to have time to do the things that help me feel good.

4. Before surgery, I was hydrating and fibering like a mother fucker, up until midnight the night before my operation, when I was supposed to begin fasting. I also went two weeks without any alcohol, weed, cigarettes, delta 8, or any other substances, and no medications other than my testosterone. I also quit caffeine several months ago which has had a DRAMATIC impact on my mental health and improved my eating and hydration as well. Three hours before surgery I took a prescribed anti-nausea pill, and a celebrex (a prescribed anti-inflammatory, basically it dulls nerve pain a bit) as advised by my doctor.

5. I chose to work with a surgeon who does not use narcotics -- this is a huge one. Opioid pain medications pack a whallop, and if you need them, you need them, there's no shame in that -- but I think the American medical system is still skewed towards using them too willy nilly compared to most other parts of the world. They make you groggy, slow down your digestion, can make you depressed, make you nauseated, and just generally keep you from moving around and eating, and you really do want your physical system to be moving and metabolizing so it can heal you.

I would not have been up and walking around the day of my surgery if I was on opioids. The day after surgery I was able to stream for three hours, ride the train to my post-op appointment, and walk to a restaurant a few blocks away for dinner because I wasn't loopy or medicated at all. And I truly did not need them. Because I wasn't on opioids I was also able to shit the same day I had surgery instead of battling bloating and constipation for days, which most guys describe having.

Rather than giving any hard core pain meds to me, my doctor used numbing injections during surgery, which blunted the pain for the first 48 hours post-op, which is the worst period healing wise. Beyond that, he put me on antibiotics and a celebrex in the morning and at night. I've never felt much pain at all.

At this point, my pain is like.. less than a period cramp? Similar to muscle soreness from working out? I feel fragile because my skin is stitched together, so it's not like I could run a marathon or climb a rock wall, and I can't cook or carry anything over a milk jug. but I can walk around, shower, take the train, open light doors, get dressed, feed my chinchilla, stuff like that.

6. My surgeon encouraged movement. Many surgeons tell you not to lift your arms above your head for weeks, but this can result in you needing physical therapy afterward and losing mobility in general. Now if that's what your doctor tells you to do, you should listen to them, but my doctor told me he wanted me to maintain range of motion. I am allowed to open cabinets, shampoo my hair, and reach above my head to grab things -- GENTLY and SLOWLY -- and i do very very light stretches. In the weeks to come I'll need to weigh two competing concerns against one another: the desire to maintain mobility, and the desire to have thin scar lines. I'm still being very delicate but I am using my arms all day and sometimes raising them.

Now, I can't promise you that any of this will happen for you. And since you mentioned wanting to be as independent as possible, let me tell you: do not push it! you will need help! Not getting enough help will dramatically increase your risk of complications! I have someone with me to lift heavy objects, cook, wash the dishes, help me shower, open heavy doors, and to tell me to slow down when i'm going too hard.

The people i know who did have complications got to that point because they didn't ask for enough help. You will need to take time off of any labor intensive job, and you wont be able to move furniture, make your bed, do your laundry, cook a meal, carry groceries, or do other intensive things for a while. I understand the motivation to get back to 'independence' as quickly as possible, but you can't guarantee that will happen.

This week, I will be doing some light work (grading and reading copy edits) because I am able to, and because I'm high energy enough to be getting bored. But I couldn't count on that. I told my boss and my editor I'd be offline for at least two weeks, more if I had complications. Since I didn't, I'm bouncing back way sooner, but it would not have been healthy for me to set out with that as the expectation. I needed to mentally offload the stress of having a job or I wouldnt have healed as well as I have.

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avauntus · 1 year

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what it's like to catch the plague, late 2022 edition.

After nearly 2 1/2 years of avoiding it, COVID caught up with me. It's been a while since I've seen a post like this, but I wanted to share what it was like for me (as a single person, living alone), what helped, and what I'd stock in advance if I'd known that would help even more.

Some say this is "milder COVID," and I mean...compared to something that puts you in the hospital, I guess so? Still, I've been flat on my back for four days, and I'm going to go take a nap after finishing this post so-- if you're feeling like it's a LOT, or want to avoid it, you are 100% valid. This is NOT an easy sickness. The only thing I've gone through that has made me weaker was surgery, and that took over a month to recover from.

I also know 100% how I got this: My father's living facility is having a COVID outbreak, and when he tested positive last Saturday, he was already on a watch to maybe go in for emergency monitoring for heart issues and diabetic-related infection issues-- the triage nurse recommended taking him in to be examined because that was just-- a lot of complication, all-together. The only way he was going to get there was if I drove him, and he's not great about mask-wearing at the best of times (he did try- until he forgot).

So- good news for you, potential COVID avoider? I basically ignored a lot of exposure guidelines and got myself infected. It's still possible to be cautious and be reasonably safe, I think.

On to COVID itself-- I had no symptoms on the first day post-exposure, light fatigue and a cough on the second (I made dinner and made it out to a grocery pickup [contactless with me double-masked]), and by the third day I was having trouble standing.

A trick I learned from an earlier COVID-solo essay that worked for me: If you can get part of the way up, you can "walk" yourself upright using your hands and a wall. Then just-- try to get wherever you're going quickly, you know?

Some other useful things I was glad to have on hand:

Broth - I didn't want to eat anything, and when I tried a cookie anyway, I got tired of chewing halfway through. Drinkable stuff was key.

Juice

Canned drinks - convenient sizes, and a hit of caffeine from the soda when I started getting a headache from not drinking any coffee or tea that I was too tired to brew

granola bars or breakfast cookies (or protein bars might have been even better) - if I only get a few bites of something, might as well make it count

chapstick

cough syrup (!!)

tissues (!!)

a way to have the phone nearby, and a way to set it up so only key contacts can reach you when you're sleeping (pretty much: always)

dumb TV (I watched this and this)

A family member and a friend from work both checked in with me this week and asked how I was doing and if I needed anything from the store / a meal -- something I really felt touched by-- if you have a friend in your life with COVID right now, especially if they live alone or are usually the "household doer" - I'd really suggest checking with them, and it's an easy thing to drop off a carton of soup or a half-gallon of milk on a doorstep. Your COVID friend is so, so tired, and will so appreciate it.

I don't want to linger on this, but I also had reactions when I shared I'd caught COVID that were along the lines of: at least it's the milder version! or good luck, hope it is asymptomatic for you! (what?)-- and I just mention it because if you're getting that kind of reaction too-- don't let it get to you. This IS ROUGH; and you are 100% valid to feel crumby, sad, to rest and take care of yourself.

I read I was supposed to try to isolate my cat, which worked for about 30 seconds, until I fell asleep the first time, and then how am I supposed to say no to this?:

Up until last week, the US government (and state programs, mostly, too) have been shutting down. Now the White House has briefly opened a window to get more rapid tests-- so you can tell if what you have is COVID or the worst flu you've ever encountered, haha. 🙃 In any case, if you're in the US, sign up for your four free additional tests I guess!

I hope this helps somebody else out there-- stay safe everybody, and I hope you can let yourself rest if you catch this!

#covid #covid isn't over #about me #🤧

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novoplata · 6 months

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Gaudate Sunday.

It's the third week of Advent and it will soon be Christmas day! I haven't been reflecting much on my advent journey, being distracted by Emily being sick and starting a new job last week, but I am still grateful for the joy this season has brought me. With Emily slowly but steadily recovering from her flu, I'm once again reminded to count my blessings each day. Of course, change, regardless of how good it is, will always be challenging. I've been enjoying a steady routine of waking up late to go to work and going to the gym at 4.30pm for the past three years, thanks to my workplace and gym being located close to each other and my home being merely 15 minutes away from my workplace. All that encountered a shift when I accepted a new job in the city centre. I'm now required to wake up earlier to drive to work (which I don't necessarily enjoy) and the commute to the gym will now be longer and fraught with heavy traffic. Of course, sacrifices are a must whenever you want to welcome better things into your life. This new job has come with a 20 per cent increase in salary plus a bunch of perks that are only enjoyed by government officials. Besides, it wasn't like I've never had to wake up early and drive further to work before. It's just that I've gotten used to not having to do them for a while. While I try to get used to my new routine, I'm intentionally reminding myself to be grateful -- always -- for new opportunities, a new environment and a new senior role that comes with a 55-year-old assistant. I'm hoping to learn more and improve myself better career-wise. I'm grateful that I can now aim to get promoted to Head of Department and that there's room for promotion at all! It's time to set up for the challenge!

Blessed Advent, everyone!

#advent #work #christmas #holiday

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forgaeven1 · 9 months

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kind anon here to spill the beans. i understand where you come from. anxiety is a bitch. and the season of colds and flus officially began. but i want to remind you, as someone who knows a little about human resources and also about company ethics and such. if you are not feeling well and you have those symptoms, you have to talk to your boss. first of all for yourself since you're clearly not capable of functioning and your body needs time to recover and rest. and second of all, you can't realistically accomplish your tasks since you're in so much distress. you are allowed to take leaves. hell i am pretty sure you have those vacation leaves added up. and third of all, if you have to go to the firm you might get other people in the same state you're in. i know how anxiety works and i promise you that you have nothing to worry about. worst case scenario you find out your current job sucks ass and you can move on to the next. fun fact about today'd working market is that employers are more likely to welcome you into their company if you have had a few past work places! it doesn't matter for how long you were in said companies, just that you were, even if only for a couple of months! but you are not feeling well and you have to conquer your boss first, only then after you can actually focus on your health (which is top priority, but you also get to kick anxiety's ass). take that leave, talk to a professional and try to rest as much as possible, even if in sequences. you deserve it. there's nothing more important than your own health. you got this by the way, you can fight this fear of yours (that many people share, including me) and it'll be so rewarding afterwards. also, the boss might appreciate your honesty! they usually prefer to leave you rest and come back strong rather than going to work and ending up falling asleep because your body needs it (that's actual science, we are not crazy, okay?). i love you and take care, i hope you hear good news soon!

anooooooooooon!!!!!

thank u so much for this! as u have greatly deduced, i just... i have major anxiety when it comes to work and, i suppose, how people perceived me ( which i'm trying very hard to be chill about ) and, ofc, with informing my employers about any personal needs / time-offs. i just !!! i didnt like it bc my current employer isnt the easiest when u want time-off for any reason ( it isn't that she's particularly an asshole, which she can be sometimes; we're just asians. we aren't technically 'sick' unless we're coughing up blood or showing extreme and grave symptoms ) and i know its as simple as sending a text but still!!!!

thank u though. for real. just so u're aware, i did send off that text, and i went to the doctor!!! ( again, for me personally, thats a big achievement because i dislike seeing doctors in general. i was raised with the mentality above ok ) they told me it might be a viral fever and since my fever's gone so far ( it's just bouts of nausea left ) , all i've had to do is monitor my body :))

#Anonymous #personal tw //#i also want to publicly put this out even tho this has got nothing to do w/ rping #because (1) i do want to thank u properly #and (2) JUST in case anyone else may have this issue as well personally #the mentality i've got — where i mostly so far pushed myself bc i have these impression #that the fever's gonna go away. this coughing's gonna get better soon — is not ....#it's not the BEST mentality i've got #admittedly i've noticed its quite constant in the industry i've been apart of so far #where staffs / workers rarely care for days off even tho theyre sick #bc they DO think it'll go away soon. but... thats not right #and i think ur message anon is quite important #for me at least. and i'd love to keep it around as reminder!!!#i hope thats okay <333 #gen: saved.#gen: out of character.

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givelifetoaworld · 2 years

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obviously with a degree in science i’m not an antivaxxer by any means i am very pro vaxx and i’m trying to get my flu shot soon.

i just know that, here in the US, most people who have been caught up on their vaccinations do not want to spend 2 days sick for a third or fourth or even fifth time with yet another covid vaccine. those things were not pleasant to get with the sickness they brought. ESPECIALLY now that workplaces are giving zero accommodation and pretending like covid does not exist, so you won’t be getting any paid time off (or enough time off to recover from contagion in general) ESPECIALLY after getting sick each time after each vaccine THEN many of us despite masking and maximizing our safety still caught covid from those who didn’t give a shit, and had to deal with the real sickness after the idea was pushed that the og vaxx + booster were more effective “prevention”. ESPECIALLY when there is no effort to prove that these New Vaccines are going to do anything different other than the same “well you won’t die from it” - we can’t fucking afford to get sick either way, so clearly the best option for most of us is to wait til it happens and deal with the consequences. maybe i’m selfish but i’m not looking to spend a fifth time fighting covid symptoms on my only days off to recharge because the responsibility is still being placed on the individual when this pandemic is clearly a governmental failure.

#go get this new vaxx if you really want to and have the time and ability to but there’s a huge reason most people aren’t

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apoguecalledjj · 4 years

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Make You Smile

Summary: You don’t smile. You’re just not happy, and can’t find any reasons to smile. Except for JJ.

Word count: 2123

Pairing: JJ x reader

TW: Mentions of vomiting

Requested: No

You didn’t smile half as much anymore, and it didn’t take the pogues long to notice that. When you did smile, they could tell it was forced. Before, you had been a ray of sunshine, they were constantly hearing you laugh. But now, after a year away from them at the kook academy, the smiles and laughter had disappeared, and it worried them.

Whenever they asked you, they got a simple response. “Life is shit.” In the beginning, they pushed you, but they soon realized you weren’t giving in. Because the truth was, you didn’t have any other reason. The need to smile had gone away, you never felt happy enough to smile.

So things went on as normal with the pogues. They continued to try, and fail, to bring your contagious laughter back to the group. Nothing was working, until one day, something did. Slowly, you began to smile once again. All because of a blond-haired boy named JJ.

---

The six of you, John B, JJ, Pope, Kie, Sarah, and you, were all sat around on the porch of the chateau. Pope was babbling on about something random to Kie, who seemed uninterested but loved him too much to tell him, and John B and Sarah were macking on each other, like always. JJ was throwing his lighter up into the air and catching it, and you were very, very bored.

It was too chilly to go swimming, the day was cloudy which had brought the temperature down lower than the normal. It was too early in the day to start a fire, you liked to wait till the sun went down for that.

So the six of you just sat around on John B’s porch, distracting yourselves from the boredom in any way you could.

JJ sighed loudly. “We should get drunk.”

“It’s the middle of the day, JJ.” You didn’t move to look at him, instead continuing to stare at the roof of the porch from where you were lying on the floor.

‘So?” He stood up from where he was sitting on the porch, standing over you and reaching out his hand. “Get up.”

You had always been the closest with JJ out of the pogues, he was always checking up on you and making sure you were okay. You definitely like him more than a friend, but that would forever stay a secret. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you upwards.

“Let’s get drunk,” He said once again. He began to walk backwards, waving you towards him.

You started to follow him but quickly stopped walking as you watched his foot hit the edge of the steps, his body falling back. JJ flailed his arms around, tumbling down over the steps and landing on the grass in front of them, looking dazed.

You laughed. You didn’t even think about it, the noise escaping your lips as your hand moved up to cover your mouth. JJ started to laugh too, but then he realized what he had caused and his eyes widened.

Your eyes widened as well, and you quickly glanced around but none of the pogues has noticed. For the first time in a while, you had smiled, laughed even, and it was real. The sparkle was in your eyes, the way you squinted and your cheeks turned slightly rosy. JJ had noticed all of it, and his crush on you grew even more.

You brought your finger to your lips as if to say shh, and JJ nodded. He was okay being the only one who heard your beautiful laugh.

He reached out his hand again, this time for help up, and you grabbed him, pulling him up. The two of you wandered away to get day drunk together, and his hand never left yours.

That was the first time he made you smile.

---

It was a week later, and you felt like you were dying. Literally. You had no idea what virus you had managed to catch, but it wasn’t going easy on you.

You had spent the last two days only moving to use the bathroom or throw up. You felt absolutely disgusting, and couldn’t be bothered moving from your bed any more than necessary.

You heard your front door open and close, and groaned. Your mom had gotten called in to work unexpectedly today, and she must have forgotten to cancel the lunch plans she had with a friend today. The last thing you wanted to do was go deal with an unwanted guest while you were sick.

But before you could move, a familiar face appeared in your doorway. JJ.

“Wow, you look like shit,” He said but he was smiling, and you knew he was joking.

“JJ I told you I was sick. You shouldn’t be here, you’ll get sick,” You scolded, half of you actually not wanting him to get sick and the other half just not wanting him to see you in this state.

“If I cared about getting sick I wouldn’t have came.” He grinned at you, holding up a shopping bag in his hand. “Plus, I brought essentials for you!”

He flopped on the bed beside you, and reluctantly you shifted over so he could lie next to you. He passed the bag to you and you sat up so you could look through it. Medicine, Gatorade, a movie, chocolate, fuzzy socks, and...

“Weed JJ? Really?” You glared at him as you pulled the substance out of the bag. “I am not smoking weed with you while I’m dying with the flu!”

You glanced down to where he was laid next to you, he was looking up at you with the biggest smile on his face. “I brought everything that I thought would make you feel better,” He said proudly.

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face, and he jumped up and fist pumped the air. “Yes!” He cried. “I’m getting good at this whole making you smile thing,” He said quieter, glancing at your face. “Your gorgeous smile.”

The smile on your face only grew bigger, and JJ grabbed your hand in his. “I’m going to be 100% honest right now,” He said, sounding a bit nervous now. “I want to kiss you right now.”

You wanted to kiss him too, so bad, but you forced yourself to shake your head. “Me too.” You admitted, glancing down at his hand in yours. “But I’m sick. So you’ll have to wait.”

He laughed, but you weren’t giving in, lying back down in the bed. JJ followed you, pulling you into your arms. Cuddling wasn’t new for you guys, you cuddled all the time as friends, but this felt different.

You could have stayed there forever, with JJ playing with your hair even though it was greasy.

But of course the moment had to be ruined, a wave of nausea overcoming you and you jumped up to run to the bathroom. JJ followed behind you, holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet.

Once you were done, you leaned back into JJ’s arms that were already wrapped around you. He kissed your head. “You okay?”

You nodded, sleepiness rushing over you. “You’re gonna get sick.” You muttered.

“I don’t care. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

That was the second time he made you smile.

---

The six of you were sat on the porch once again. You and JJ had finally recovered (Of course JJ had gotten sick) and you were feeling well enough to hang out with your friends again.

JJ was sitting much closer to you than normal, but no one seemed to notice and you didn’t mind. It felt nice to have his body pressed up against yours.

John B suggested you take the HMS pogue out on the water, and 15 minutes later, you guys were out by the marsh. The wind was light, gently blowing through your hair as you slowly sipped a beer that JJ had insisted on bringing.

JJ stood from where he sat next to you, walking to the front of the boat. “Pope, speed up a bit! It’ll work this time!” You knew exactly what he was going to try, and you also knew it would not work.

A couple seconds later, his foot slipped, and he went flailing into the water. You giggled, not thinking about it until you noticed the rest of the pogues looking at you in shock.

“Did you just giggle?”

“Holy shit she smiled.”

“All it took this whole time was JJ falling?”

Everyone spoke at once and you brought your hands to your face, not being able to stop yourself from grinning. JJ pulled himself on the boat, walking over and putting a wet arm around you. “All it took was me in general.” He smirked at the others.

“Hey! Does she smile for you often?” Sarah faked being hurt, but she shot a smile your way. “You guys are macking aren’t you?”

“No!” You exclaimed. You had only kissed him twice, but the blush on your cheeks gave you away.

“Holy shit they’re macking.” Kiara looked at the two of you, shocked, before slowly smiling. John B just shook his head.

Once your friends were distracted by other things, JJ turned to face you. “You’re beautiful, y’know that?” You shook your head but he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. He really meant it. You were the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on. He never expected to fall so hard but he did, and he didn’t mind it. You made him so happy.

You leaned your head into his chest and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. His body was still wet, and your clothes were getting wet but you didn’t care. As long as you were close to him nothing mattered.

That was the third time he made you smile.

---

The chateau was strung with fairy lights, and a blanket was set on the dock, JJ lying on it waiting for you. “Hi beautiful!” He stood up to greet you with a kiss, looking excited to see you.

“JJ! This is so cute!” You glanced around the dock, he had some food spread out around the blanket as well as two juice-boxes. HIs phone was set down next to it all, softly playing music.

“The pogues helped a lot,” He admitted, pulling you down on the blanket with him. “I know it isn’t a lot but I was happy just spending the night with you, I hope it’s okay.”

He nervously rubbed his neck and you nodded, leaning over to kiss him. “It’s perfect JJ.”

You laid together for what felt like hours, just talking. Once the two of you got hungry JJ grabbed the food, sandwiches (which he repeatedly told you he made himself), popcorn, and chocolate. You quickly entertained yourselves by trying to throw the popcorn into each other’s mouths. You laughed every time you hit his nose or forehead with a piece, and he even managed to land a piece down your shirt, which you suspected was on purpose.

It ended with you chasing JJ around, yelling at him playfully. Abruptly he spun around and you ran right into his chest. He pulled you into his arms and fell to the blanket, you falling down with him, giggling even more.

Every single time you laughed, JJ’s happiness grew. It was happening more and more frequently. All he had ever wanted was for you to be happy, and his wish was finally coming true.

“Hey, Y/N? Can I ask you something?” He whispered. You were lying half on top of him, half to the side, your head resting on his chest. You looked up so your eyes met his, and nodded.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The smile that appeared on your face had already answered the question for him, but you nodded and pulled him in for a kiss. A couple seconds later, you pulled away, the smile still prominent on your face.

“I love seeing you smile,” He whispered his forehead leaned against yours.

“Get ready to see it a lot more,” You told him, and he giggled, kissing you again.

After that, you lost count. Everyday, not only with JJ but also with the pogues, was filled with smiles and giggles and laughter. You were back, once again a ray of sunshine, and JJ loved it. He never got tired of seeing you smile or hearing you laugh.

You never got tired of smiling either. You finally had a reason to be happy. Life wasn’t shit anymore, and that was all because of JJ.

From then on, you smiled a lot more.

#outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #outer banks imagine #obx #obx fic #obx one shot #obx imagine #obx netflix #jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #outer banks jj maybank #jj x reader

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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years

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HERE FOR YOU || Jurdan College AU Pt. 2

Warnings: None. Swearing maybe?

Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @aesthetics-11 @hizqueen4life @duarteegreenbriar @mysweetvilllain @judexcardanxgreenbriar @nite0wl29 @althekingshorses @thewickedkings @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @acourtofmoonlight @queen-of-glass @random-llama-socks @jurdanhell @cardan-greenbriar-tcp

[if I forgot to tag anyone or if you want to be tagged let me know!]

Summary: After finding a very ill and feverish Jude, Cardan takes her to the doctor. And deals with her usual stubbornness.

HFY Masterlist Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 [coming soon]

AO3 link

My masterlist

Cardan had never liked doctors. When he was a little kid, his mother had to apologize several times because he kept glaring and calling them creepy warlocks, claiming they cured people using potions that stunk and had a sour flavor. And even though he’d got over that phase of his life, the scent of medicine still gave him a slight skittish sensation.

Now, after nearly an hour of waiting he was definitely not enjoying himself, except that this time he couldn’t quite tell if the feeling was because of the smell or not knowing what the doctor was telling Jude, making his muscles tense more with every minute that passed.

One part of him wished nothing more than yell at her for being so reckless and not seeking for help earlier.

The other part though, kept thinking about that morning.

He and Jude had agreed to meet every monday and friday at 9:00 am to work on their final project. At the beginning their meetings had place at the school’s library, since they didn’t talk much. Not because he didn’t want to, of course. But after years of confronting Jude at class, he’d learn to give her space when she focused on something. And maybe because she was a little scary too.

Within time, her frowning glares became curious eyes and her monosyllabic answers, full conversations.

By the third month, they had to look for a new place to meet. The library’s manager, tired of scolding them at least six times a day for talking and laughing too loud, had forbid them to enter the building together. Or being together in there at all.

That’s how they ended up in a coffee shop near the campus. The place was small and cozy. The owner, an old sweet lady called Joanne, prepared the best cappuccinos Cardan had ever tasted.

That morning though, he hadn’t been able to take a sip of his beverage. The two cups of coffee steaming on the table seem to mock him as he alternated his gaze between them and the door, waiting for her to arrive. His leg bounced uneasily and he felt his hands sweatier than usual.

He glanced at the clock. 9:20 am. She was already twenty minutes late. Jude was never late.

From the kitchen, Joanne whistled cheerfully the song that came out from the speakers. An italian song he couldn’t identify. When her eyes crossed Cardan’s she smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. He shifted on his seat, looking down at the small bunch of flowers he’d bought. The white peonies and daisies rested smoothly on the wooden table.

Damn her. Of all days, she’d chose this one to be late.

When he woke up that morning, he was thoroughly decided to finally come clean. To finally tell Jude he was in love with her.

He sent her another message. Nothing.

He called her. No answer. Again.

Had she forgotten?

Impossible, they met there twice a week.

The only possible option left in his mind was that she’d remembered. And didn’t care.

Anger pooled on his stomach. What an idiot he felt now. They had an agreement, imposed by her by the way, of letting the other one know about any inconvenience. Was he really that insignificant for her he didn’t deserve a simple notice?

Bottle it up, he said to himself.

That’s when he remembered she’d been absent from class those last two days too. Even professor Noggle asked about her, a thing he didn’t do with most of the students.

Cardan frowned. In a swift move he stood and walked out.

He left the money for the coffee on the table, and the flowers next to it.

The door opened, bringing him back to the present. As Jude walked out of the consulting room, he noticed her pallor had decreased. Not enough to relax him, but it was something.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, raising to stand next to her.

She shrugged. “Better, I told you it was nothing. Let’s go.”

“Ah ah,” The doctor started, closing the door behind him. “That’s not exactly what I said young lady.”

Cardan frowned at her. Seriously? Her only answer was a deep sigh and rolling eyes.

“My exact words were that it didn’t seem like something too serious or life-threatening. Not that it was nothing.” He took a prescriptions block out of his coat and scrawled something in the front page. Jude groaned. “It’s most likely a severe stomach flu, aggravated by the days it was left untreated. But since the fever was strong, I’d like to wait and see if it settles now.”

“Most likely?” Cardan repeated, his brows pulled together in a frown. What had he paid this clown for, then?

“Well it’s always good to scrap any other possibility, I took a blood sample from miss Duarte so I can send it to the lab. But I don’t believe it will show any other result.”

He nodded. “So what now? We just wait?”

“Cardan.” Jude mumbled. He didn’t move his eyes from the doctor.

“Pretty much.” He handed him the prescription. “She got an injection for the temperature already. Here are scripted some pills she’ll need to take for the next three to five days, to help with the nausea. And of course, lots of water and electrolytes.”

“Thank you, I’ll get those right away.” She said as she snatched the paper from Cardan’s hand and put it away.

“Miss Duarte, I’ll recommend you to stay under observation the next two days. Just in case the fever returns and you need immediate assistance.”

“Of course.” Jude answered nonchalantly, already reaching for the exit. “I’ll let my sister know so she can come over. Thanks.”

Back on his car he drove in silence. ‘Never let me go’ by Florence + The Machine sounded low on the radio. With closed eyes, Jude leaned towards the open window, her brunette locks flying wildly around her head.

Cardan glanced sidewards at her, forcing himself not to linger too much on her slightly parted lips. His mind went back to the moment she’d collapsed in his arms. Cheeks flushed and burning up in heat. Even if he never admitted it out loud, she’d scared the hell out of him.

He pulled his attention back to the road and cleared his throat. “I thought both of your sisters were out of town. Is any of them back? I can call them if you like.”

Jude ignored his question. After a moment of silence she whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

Cardan shrugged. “It’s a little bit obvious isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You have our full project on your laptop, Duarte. And it has a password. If you die, then how on earth am I supposed to recover it?”

A punch landed on his arm, followed by a soft chuckle. “Ass. And you don’t need to call anyone. It’s not necessary.”

“Meaning?” Now it was his turn to scowl.

“Meaning,” She sighed. “That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you already did more than enough. Besides you’re right, my sisters are far far away from here, right where they should.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Earning a honk from the car behind them, Cardan pushed the brake, leading the car aside so it could fully stop on the sideway.

“Hey, calm down Toretto!” She shouted raggedly, grabbing the door handle for support. “What the fuck!?”

“What the fuck? That’s exactly what I’m asking you, Duarte!” Now he could fully turn to face her incredulous stare. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You passed out a couple of hours ago, you were burning up in fever. Do you realize that? Apparently not, because despite the recommendations, you still insist on not listening!”

An exasperated sigh left his lungs. He grabbed the wheel tighter, trying to ease the growing pool of rage inside him. Calm down. He’d spent his life telling himself to calm down. Being terrible at expressing his feelings, he was used to get irritated every time he faced pain, or fear. Or pretty much anything, actually. But gods, how could she be so stubborn?

Jude pressed her mouth into a thin line and looked down, her hands twisting faintly on her lap. She was indeed nervous about whatever illness loomed in her body, he noticed, trying to ignore the lips he so badly wanted to tug between his.

“I’ll stay with you.” The words left his lips before he fully realized it.

“You what? Don’t be rid-”

“The doctor said you needed to be under supervision.” He answered turning back to the road, and put his car on march again. She was probably giving him some murdering glare that he prefered to elude. “So you have two options sweetheart, either you let me stay at your place or you come back to mine, but a frat house it’s not exactly a place to rest. You are, by no means, staying alone.”

Half a second later, even the radio was muffled by her incessant ranting. Hardly determined to convince him of doing otherwise.

Cardan just drove.

When he parked next to her building the sun was already setting.

With her arms firmly folded across her chest Jude hadn’t stopped gritting her teeth all the way back. This was madness, she repeated to herself over and over.

The man showed up out of nowhere, took her to the doctor, paid for her medicine and now wanted to stay in her apartment? No fucking way.

The problem now, was that if there was anyone on earth even more stubborn than her, it was Cardan. A man that no matter how many times she asked him to just leave her on the sidewalk and leave, was now walking up the stairs next to her. A satisfied grin on his perfect charming face. If she didn’t feel as weak at the moment she’d slapped his way out of the place.

Once inside she left the medicines and the gatorades on the table and turned to him.

“For the hundredth time, Cardan. You don’t have to stay, everything is under control and I’m not feveri- what’s that?” She asked, noticing the hanging object on his shoulder.

“A backpack?”

She rolled her eyes. “I‘m not blind, you ass. What are you doing with that backpack?”

“I always keep some extra clothes in my trunk. You know, in case I find myself in any unexpected situation.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a way that twisted her guts. Ugh, disgusting.

The repulse must’ve been written on her face too because he snickered for a second before throwing it next to the couch. “Becoming your hot nurse certainly fits in the category dear, you can’t deny that.”

She blinked and pushed back the intrusive thoughts that emerged from his statement. Why was her mind against her today? Maybe the fever had burned her coherency brain cells, if she’d ever had any to begin with.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” Cardan dropped himself on the couch, opening a book he’d taken from his pack. “Now take those pills, put on your weird pijama and go rest.”

Maybe she could still gather the strength to slap him after all.

Trying to ignore the sour flavor that shitty pills left on her mouth, Jude stood in front of the mirror. Wearing the shorts and the t-shirt she’d put on before they went to the doctor, she found herself suddenly worried by her clothing and messy hair.

Which was utterly absurd. It wasn’t as if he cared at all about her wardrobe choices.

Still, the idea of them sleeping under the same roof unnerved her. It had been a long time since she’d had someone from the opposite sex staying the night. Either way, her exasperating classmate certainly hadn’t crossed her mind.

She bit her lip.

Ok that was a lie. Being honest she might have thought about it a couple of times. Mostly drunk. She always felt guilty the day after. And pissed. It left her wishing she could hate him again, like she did on sophomore year when he was truly a rude idiot. But no matter how hard she’d tried, his wits and dumb jokes had slowly changed her perspective of him. Not to mention those deep dark eyes and wicked smile of his. It only took a pair of tequila shots to start fantasizing about running her lips along that jaw. FINE, it didn’t take any tequilas to do that. But sober she had a tiny bit of control over her too-creative mind. Drunk Jude had already undressed him in her dreams once. Twice?

And now Cardan was outside, lying down on her comfy couch. Staying the night.

Jude chewed her inner cheek. This was a nightmare.

As quiet as possible, she opened the door and peered outside. He was nowhere to be seen. Maybe some ancient deity took mercy on her and vanished him to oblivion. That or he was probably in the bathroom, so she tiptoed her way to the modest kitchen.

She’d just finished preparing her chai tea when the bathroom’s door opened. Decided to ignore him, she kept her gaze down.

At least until she caught a glimpse of him with the corner of her eyes. That, snapped her attention back. Oh no, no no no no.

“CARDAN GREENBRIAR WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I...what?”

“Could you please… I don’t know, maybe put a fucking shirt on?!” She could already feel her blood gathering on her cheeks.

He paused and quirked an eyebrow. “For your information, Duarte, I tend to sleep naked. These pants are a sign of my consideration to you, since we’re at your place.”

The goddamn idiot was made of marble. Jude knew he wasn’t precisely one of those big muscular men, not that it meant he didn’t have everything in place. His well formed shoulders and arms were visible even with clothes, and now she could admire the slightly marked muscles of his torso all the way down to the V that disappeared under his pine-green pants. His shoes were off too.

“Are you blush-” He started, only to be cut by her murderous voice.

“Good night, Cardan.” Taking her cup, she crossed the place with big steps, slamming the bedroom’s door behind her.

Leaning against the wood, she heard the couch creak as he laid down. Her breathing evened a little a few minutes after.

Shit, that had been rude. Even if he’d imposed his presence there he was still a guest, her mind scolded her. A really hot guest. No no, don’t think of that now.

As silently as she could she opened the door again. And pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laugh at what she saw.

Cardan’s legs hung over the couch’s arm. Which made sense, considering how tall he was, but right now it only looked bloody ridiculous, and kind of adorable. She tried to ignore the guilt that pierced her heart again. He seemed stiff. An idea shone on her mind. A terrible terrible idea.

“Cardan?” She whispered.

He hummed in response.

She swallowed and walked towards him. “You can’t sleep in there.”

He scoffed and looked at her through hooded eyes, dark and deep made her heart skip a beat. “If you’re trying again to convince me to leave…”

“I’m not.” Jude blurted, passing a hand over her curls. Somehow words seemed to stuck in her throat. “I mean- even when you are completely ignoring me about you not needing to be here… I guess I… What I try to say is-”

“Jude Duarte is babbling. Gods, now I’m intrigued.” He breathed, propping himself on his elbows.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head elusively. It was humiliating how easy it was for him to put her on edge. “Shut up will you? You can’t stay on the couch, it’s small and uncomfortable… And I, well, I happen to own a double bed.”

Smooth, girl, smooth.

“Trying to lure me into your bed? So soon?” He teased, flashing her a smile, yet his joke didn’t reach his eyes. Something in them was different, they were wider, intense.

“You’re intentionally being an asshole.” She said, gritting her teeth. This time his tricky words and good looks wouldn’t affect her. She couldn’t allow it. “I just meant that we can both sleep there. Like, as far away as the bed allows but at least you could rest.”

For a second he just looked at her. Not mocking or rude, she couldn’t place the expression in his face. His jaw set, chest raising and falling slowly. “You don’t have to, Jude. I’m ok in here.”

“Don’t lie. Besides I’d feel better too. Not because- Ugh, I’d feel better knowing that I could at least make your staying more bearable, I guess.” That wasn’t so bad. Yet. And honestly she couldn’t tell if it was worse if he accepted, or refused.

Back in her room an awkward silence filled the atmosphere as both laid side to side. Somehow, even if they were not touching, Jude could feel the heat of his skin. Her heart hammered so fast she swore he could listen to it.

“So…” He started.

Panic filled her senses, she needed to cut any conversation before saying or doing something she’d regret later. “There’s no need to mention it, just go to sleep… please.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from Cardan. “Good night.”

Jude barely heard him sigh. “Sweet dreams, Jude.”

It was hot. Really really hot. Fuck he couldn’t move. How much had he drank last night?

Wait. No, last night he didn’t go out with Locke. He’d said he would spend the weekend with his girlfriend, at least this month’s. Cardan had stopped mocking him for it long ago.

Eyes still closed, he grimaced and tried to stretch but something held down his arm. As Cardan became more and more aware of his body, the memories of the day before flashed in his mind. The failed meeting with Jude, the flowers he’d spend almost an hour choosing, her body going limp against him, the useless doctor… Jude offering him her bed to sleep.

That’s when something tickled his neck, startling him.

No, not something.

Cardan’s eyes snapped open, he looked down and froze when he realized Jude’s body was pressed flush against him, one of her hands resting on his chest. Somehow their legs impossibly tangled. Terrified, he found his own arm encircling her waist, bare skin touching his fingers since her too big shirt had rolled up in her sleep.

She shifted a little and her nose brushed his neck again, letting out a small breath that sent hot shivers down his body.

Any knowledge of how to move or think completely forgotten. He stared blankly at the ceiling.

Fuck fuck fuck shit what the fucking fucks.

#i'm so so sorry it took me so long!!#BUT HERE IT IS #honestly i'm not that happy with it #but i'll try to make it better for chapter 3!!!#oh some good stuff coming there #jurdan #jurdan college au #college au #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #holly black #jurdan fanfic #tess writes

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whumpcollector · 3 years

Text

Kai and 07: Flu Season

I return. The semester is over, my schedule is clear and I’m ready to fucking WRITE baby. This the next piece in Kai and 07′s story. I hope you all enjoy it.

CW: Hospitals, drugging in a medical context, dehumanization, slavery, institutionalized slavery, vomiting. (If I’ve missed anything let me know)

07 knelt on the bathroom floor, hands gripping the rim on the toilet bowl and sweat pouring down their face. They had spent the past few minutes vomiting out the contents of their stomach, bile burning their throat and mouth. They breathed heavily, eyes locked on the closed bathroom door. They had tried to keep quiet, but there was only so much they could do and a possibility that they may have woken master made them want to be sick again.

A minute passed and there was no sound of footsteps, no slamming open of the bathroom door and grabbing of hair as master dragged them into the living room to punish them for daring to make enough noise to wake him. Daring to be sick enough to be an annoyance.

They let out a sigh of relief, this was the second night in a row they had managed to not wake master, and they hoped that they wouldn’t need to press their luck for a third. Luck had never been on their side before.

With a low groan they dragged themselves off of the bathroom. Their legs felt like jelly and their head swam as they limped back to their room. A shiver ran down their spine and they hugged their stomach, wanting to rush back towards the warmth of their blankets while also wanting to avoid moving too fast and making any noise.

07 reached their room, walking in and closing the door softly behind them. They flopped onto the floor of the closet, their little safe haven, and wrapped the blankets around themselves. A quick glance at a digital clock that master had installed showed that it was close to 3 am. They groaned softly, another bad night of sleep. Maybe they could push their luck and change the alarm from 6 to 7. Master usually did not wake up until a few hours after them.

They reached for the clock, fingers hovering over the alarm setting button before pulling their hand back. It wasn’t worth the risk. Master had given them many gifts lately, if they were caught being lazy the consequences would be withering. They could tough it out, they had been through worse.

Another shiver hit them and they pulled the blankets tighter around themselves. All of their body hurt, and their stomach was churning again. They hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. But they would be ok, when they woke up they would be ok. They desperately, fervently hoped that they would be ok.

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The alarm on the digital clock beeped noisily as 07 was ripped from their sleep. They were not ok. They were as far from ok as one could be while still being alive. Their head was pounding, their throat was dry and scratchy, and the mere thought of moving made their limbs ache.

The possibility that they were dying came across their mind. It didn’t seem unlikely at this point. A part of them were scared by the prospect, another felt like dying and letting this be over with wouldn’t be so bad. Another, smaller, almost utterly silent part wondered if maybe they could beg Master to take a day to recover.

No, no, no never no. Master may have been understanding and kind, but his generosity wasn’t limitless, it couldn't be. Asking for anything after being given so much would be nothing short of an insult. They couldn’t afford to do that, they wouldn’t be able to take a punishment. They just wouldn’t.

The alarm sounded again, the loud noise making 07’s head pound. They limply turned the clock off. A warm silence fell and 07’s eyes grew heavy. It would be so nice, so easy to just fall back asleep.

NO! They forced their eyes open and dragged themselves upright, legs shaking and vision swimming as they did. They...they had to get up. Had to work. Had to stay on Master’s good side. They could do this, they could do this.

Their steps towards the door were slow and shaky, each one feeling harder than the last. They pushed the door open slowly, stumbling forward slightly into the hallway. A draft blew through the house, sending another wave of shivers down 07’s spine. They warped their arms tightly around their body and made their way into the kitchen.

The kitchen sink still had dishes in it, remnants from last night. 07 looked at them hopelessly. They had left them there because they had wanted to go to bed a bit early, telling themselves they would clean them when they felt better the next day. Now the small stack of plates and cutlery looked like a mountain to climb.

07 stood in the kitchen, trying to psych themselves up. It wouldn’t be too much work. Breakfast could be quick, some toast and eggs. Master Kai had been busy the past few days, a big order for an important client as he had put it. A smaller breakfast wouldn’t be something he would mind. Then they could do all the dishes in one batch. That was manageable. Alright, time to g-

The sound of the refrigerator opening snapped 07 out of their thoughts. Their eyes went wide as they saw Master Kai rummaging through the contents of the fridge. They quickly looked to the wall clock. 8:15?! Had they really just stood there like a useless piece of shit for more than an hour? Their gaze snapped back to Master, who was pulling out an old box of Chinese take-out.

He glanced at them over his shoulder. “Morning, 07.” The greeting was quick, and Master was already leaving after grabbing a fork from the drawer. “Lotta work to do, I’ll be at the forge if you need me”.

07 watched gormlessly as Master turned the corner and disappeared. Their brain took a few seconds to process what was happening. They blinked once, then twice, and then felt their knees buckle as a wave of panic hit them.

They had just STOOD there! And did NOTHING! In front of their MASTER! They didn’t have breakfast ready and there were dishes in the sink and they had just stood around while their master was right there they didn’t even bow or respond to him an-

A fit of coughing knocked them out of their spiraling. The rough sound echoed through the empty house and 07 suddenly felt very cold and very alone. They took a moment to recover and pull themselves together. Well, Master was out at the forge and breakfast seemed to be...taken care of? That meant they could clean the dishes at least. And when they were done with that they could maybe take it slow, there wasn’t much to do and what housework was left was pretty light.

07 took a deep breath and walked to the sink. Their arms ached and their vision was spotty, but they had done harder work under worse conditions. All they had to do was wash the dishes and maybe vacuum or clean the windows. Nothing they couldn’t handle. They could do this, they would be fine.

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Kai brought his hammer down onto the hot blade in front of him, sending up a spray of sparks and finally molding it into the shape he wanted. He grabbed the blade with a pair of tongs and dunked into a nearby bucket of water, waving away the cloud of smoke that emanated from the cooling metal.

Last one for the day, not bad progress he mused as he set about shutting the forge off and putting his tools back into place. It would be close but he’d probably finish up by the deadline. Hopefully he would at least. Even if he didn’t he was on good terms with the client, he could probably get away with a slight delay.

It was getting dark. Winter days were short and forging in the cold of night wasn’t something Kai was interested in. He checked his watch...6:30 pm. It was a bit early for dinner, but he had skipped lunch. Oh well, 07 probably wouldn’t mind cooking a bit earlier than usual.

Even if they did mind they probably wouldn’t say anything. The thought bothered Kai. He was still getting used to the whole...having a slave thing. All that power over someone else, it made him feel...weird. He didn’t like it. He was an idiot who shouldn’t be given responsibility over a cactus, much less a whole entire person. Still, it seemed like 07 was doing alright so maybe he wasn’t doing too badly.

Cold air rushed in after him as he entered his house. A loud noise was coming from the living room, sounded like 07 was vacuuming. Kai shot a quick glance towards the floor. Hm, it seemed like 07 vacuumed the whole house. Much as he still felt weird about having them around, Kai couldn’t deny they were a godsend. His place hadn’t been this well kept since, well since he moved in fifteen years ago.

He should find a way to thank them for all their work. Maybe a gift of some sort? Some trinket to put in their room to add a bit of decoration. He didn’t know what their aesthetic tastes were though. They liked animals...maybe something zoo themed?

Maybe they wouldn’t mind hanging a sword on their wall. Everyone likes swords right?

Kai mused to himself as took off his jacket, hanging it over his arm and making his way into the living room. Sure enough 07 was busy vacuuming the floor, their movements slow and deliberate and their focus squarely on the task at hand. Kai stood back and watched them for a bit. They looked so intense, they always did. Like every small chore was the most important thing they would ever do in their life. It was endearing, at least it would be if Kai didn’t have…less than pleasant theories regarding where that attitude came from.

As Kai watched them he noticed something was off. At a closer glance their movements were less deliberate and more…sluggish. They were hunched over, their legs were shaky, and their face was scrunched up like they were in pain.

“Hey 07, you alright?” Kai asked, walking towards them. They didn’t respond, their gaze still on the vacuum like they were in a trance. “Hey! 07!”

07’s eyes shot open and they turned abruptly towards Kai. Their sudden movement caused them to drop the vacuum handle, and it hit the ground with a dull thud. They turned to look at the vacuum, then back to Kai, then back to the vacuum before their eyes rolled into their head and they crumpled to the floor.

“SHIT!” Kai rushed to them, kneeling down next to their body and placing a hand on their forehead. Jesus fucking shit they were burning up. His mind raced, what should he do. Fuck, what should he do. Maybe...fuck it, he wasn’t taking any chances. He wrapped them in his jacket and picked them up. They were light...really fucking light. Whatever, more pressing matters at hand.

He dashed to the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook on the wall. The driveway was clear, thankfully. He gently placed 07 down in the backseat of the car, strapping them down with the seat belts so they wouldn’t roll onto the floor. Kai jammed the key into the ignition, swearing heavily as the engine stalled due to the cold. Once the vehicle started up Kai all but barreled out of the driveway and began making a beeline for the local hospital.

The roads were empty and Kai drove as fast as wasn’t suicidal. Couldn’t get 07 the help they needed if he wrapped his car around a fucking tree right? Hahahahahahahaha.

Fuck.

Kai glanced at them in the rearview mirror. They were still unconscious, but it didn’t look like they had gotten any worse. Not to Kai at least. But then again what the fuck did he know? It was perfectly fucking possible that they were dying back there and he just couldn’t tell.

“Oh fucking...DAMN IT.”

He pressed harder on the gas, he could afford to go a bit faster. It was only a few more miles to the hospital anyways. The silence in the car was starting to feel suffocating, and Kai turned on the radio just to have some noise fill the air. The rest of the drive was uneventful, and Kai found himself pulling into the hospital parking lot sooner than he expected. Well, at least something was going well.

He unbuckled the still unconscious 07 and scooped them into his arms. The parking lot was almost empty, which meant the ER wouldn’t be too busy. Another lucky break. He entered the reception area, it was empty aside from the receptionist and one other person waiting. He walked up to the desk, clearing his throat to get the receptionists attention.

“Excuse me, I need help.”

The receptionist looked up from the file she was reading, startling slightly at the sight of 07 in Kai’s arms. “Oh, um, yes, how can I help.”

“They fell unconscious in my house. They have a fever. I think they’re sick.”

Brilliant observation genius.

The receptionist nodded. “Ok, one moment”. She made a call on the intercom and two nurses showed up with a stretcher. Kai gently put 07 onto it and they were taken away. He wanted to follow but was told to wait for a doctor to get him. He didn’t argue, best leave this to the professionals.

“Excuse me sir, if you wouldn;t mind there is some information I need to get down.”

Kai turned. “Oh, yes of course.” He sat at the chair in front of the reception desk.

The talk with the receptionist was a welcome distraction. It was all basic stuff, names, insurance, nothing that Kai couldn’t provide off the top of his head. He did get a strange look when he mentioned 07’s name, but the explanation of them being a slave seemed to clear that up.

Now all he could do was wait. He sat in the reception area, mindlessly looking through his emails and social media. The almost incomprehensible stream of advertisements, news, and shitty memes proved an effective distraction until he was approached by a doctor.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kai is it?”

Kai looked up, pocketing his phone and standing. “Yes, that's me.”

“Hello. My name is Doctor Graves. I have good news, your slave, 07 right?” Kai nodded. “Well all that's wrong is a case of the flu. It seems they passed out from exhaustion. They’re still unconscious but they’re stable. We have them on some medication and they should hopefully wake up soon.”

Kai let out a breath of relief. It was just the flou, they were fine. “Thanks doc. That's good to hear”.

The doctor nodded. “You know, generally speaking it's better to let slaves rest when they are sick instead of working them too hard. Even the common cold can be dangerous if left untreated.”

Kai raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms and frowning. “Hey! I didn’t do this to them”.

“I’m sure you didn't but…”

“Listen, I didn’t know they were sick. I’ve been busy and wasn’t paying too much attention. If I had known I would have told them to take it easy.”

The doctor didn’t seem convinced. “Be that as it may, I would recommend you pay more attention to them in the future. Negligence is the number one cause of death in slaves.”

Kai sighed, dropping his arms and slumping slightly. “Yeah doc, thanks for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The doctor nodded again. “I’ll have someone let you know when they wake up.”

Kai sat back down, placing his head in his hands. The doctor was right, he had really fucked up. How could he have just...not fucking notice? 07 had been suffering for what, three days? Forcing themselves to work while they were sick and he apparently didn’t care enough to even fucking notice.

God damn it. He knew he wasn’t cut out for this shit, he knew it. 07 would be better off with anyone else, someone fucking competent. Not his dumb ass. He let out another sigh, sliding his hands down his face and letting them rest in his lap.

Well, regardless of his lack of ability 07 would be with him for at least four more months. He was sure after all this shit they’d be counting down the days they could leave for someone even slightly qualified to care for another human being. He didn’t blame them. He wouldn't want to be stuck with him either.

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07 woke slowly, consciousness having to fight through a thick haze to reach them. The first thing they noticed was a strange beeping noise, followed by the stark whiteness of the walls. This...this wasn’t their room. Where were they, where was Master? What was going on?

Piece by piece their mind began to remember what had happened. They had finished the dishes and decided to...vacuum around the house. It took longer than they expected, the noise from the vacuum made their head pound and they had to take a few breaks to gather themselves. Then Master had come in from outside and then...then.

Panic hit them like a bullet, they had passed out in front of Master. Was he angry at them? Is that why they were alone in some strange room? What...what was going to happen to them. Their breathing grew rapid and shallow. The strange beeping noise began to grow faster and more erratic. What was that? Was it bad?

They heard voices and saw people that they didn’t recognize entered the room. 07 tried to shrink away, they didn’t want to be with these people. They...they wanted Master. The strangers got closer, crowding around them. They wanted to get away, but they couldn’t. They were trapped. They were…

They were on a bed.

A bed with walls that trapped them in and people were hovering over them, grabbing at their arms and chest. Panic gave way to desperation, and they began to struggle. They tried to flail, to get their arms away from the strangers’ grip. Despite their best efforts they couldn’t get away.

“N-no…” they began to beg. “Please...no. Please...don’t.”

The strangers wouldn’t let them go. They heard voices, words coming from their mouths but they couldn’t tell what they were. The fog of fear muddled everything around them.

“Please...please. Let me go. Please”.

They screwed their eyes shut, not wanting to see what the strangers might do. A sickening sense of familiarity hit them. It was going to happen again. It was going to happen again and they didn’t want it to happen again. They didn’t want to...to…

Their arms were let go and they felt a hand rest gently on their shoulder. They tensed, waiting for the grip to turn harsh or for it to start tearing at their shirt. Instead nothing happened. 07 opened their eyes slowly and turned to see...Master Kai?

Master Kai!

He gave a small smile. “Hey there 07, how are you holding up?”

They didn’t know what to say. Their mind was still hazy and the sudden shift from panic to relief had given them whiplash. But still, their master was talking to them and they needed to say something.

“I...I...good?”

They berated themselves internally. What a clumsy and stupid response. But Master Kai didn’t seem to mind. He never seemed to mind when they were stupid.

“That's good, that's good.” He let out a small chuckle. “You gave me quite a scare you know?”

“Excuse me Mr. Kai? I would like to speak to you about a few things before we discharge your slave.”

“Oh. Alright.”

The two men began to talk and 07 laid back, closing their eyes and drowning out what was being said. It was not the place of a slave to eavesdrop or insert themselves into their master’s business. Now that the panic had worn off they found themselves feeling rather tired. They still didn’t feel great, and getting to rest a bit longer would be nice. But they had to wait, they...needed Master’s permission first.

“Mmm...may...mmmm…”

Their attempt at a question limply railed off into soft mumbling. Before they could try again they felt Master squeeze their shoulder.

“Just rest 07. I’ll wake you up when we need to head home.”

07 was asleep before he finished his sentence.

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

Kai pulled into the driveway with a relieved sigh. It was nice to be back home, Kai had never liked hospitals. He shut off his car and stepped out, walking to the backseat and pulling the still asleep 07 into his arms. He didn’t have the heart to wake them up when they had been discharged.

He entered his house and walked into the living room, only to be met by the lord wiring of the vacuum cleaner. Damn, that thing had been running for...shit 7 hours? Well there goes the electricity bill. The loud noise also had the unwelcome side effect of waking 07. They stirred in his arms, blinking blearily and looking around the room.

“Aw, piss.” Kai walked over to the vacuum, shifting 07 around slightly so he could turn the damn thing off. “Shut it will ya?”

“M...Master Kai?” Their voice was rough.

“Oh, hey 07.” Kai looked down to see 07 looking at him, seemingly still disoriented. “We’re back home, hold on, I'll get you to b-your room.”

07 simply nodded, closing their eyes again and starting to nod off. God they really were tired weren’t they. That or whatever the hospital had given them was hitting them hard. Either way they’d probably be out for another day. Maybe longer. Oh well, they had earned the rest.

Kai set 07 down in their closet...room...thing. This whole situation was still weird to him. He wanted to talk to them about maybe moving to an air mattress or futon at some point but that would have to come later. One thing at a time and all that.

He tucked 07 beneath the blankets, making sure they were wrapped up tightly. The blankets were thick, but it was still a cold night and that damn draft was still going on. Fuck! He needed to get that fixed. Ugh, tomorrow he was tracking down whatever hole in the wall was causing that draft and patching it with extreme prejudice.

He shook his head slightly and left the room, walking to a storage closet and pulling out an old space heater. He put the heater down in 07’s room, plugging it in and turning it to a warm but not sweltering temperature. There, now 07 should be comfortable.

Kai stood in the room and watched 07 for a few minutes, watching for anything that might be cause for concern. Aside from a few sniffles 07 stayed sound asleep and Kai decided he was just being paranoid now. It wasn’t anything serious, just a case of the flu. Bed rest and fluids, nothing more complicated. The doctor recommended they be given at least two days to recover, and he intended to make sure they took that time to rest.

Guilt hit him again. He shouldn’t have ever let it get this bad. He needed to be more attentive, be more aware. He needed to be better. For their sake. He wasn’t going to fail someone else again.

At least, no more than he already had.

Tags: @haro-whumps @cupcakes-and-pain

#kai #07 #whump #slave whump #medical whump #sorta #i can't wait until I figure out Kai's characterization #its gonna be great #Ill be able to give him a persoanlity and everything

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

Text

Home Front, Mission 17: Drone On

Take to the Skies

[mechanical work sounds in the background]

JANINE DE LUCA: Ah, is it that time already? No, Mr. Yao, I can do it. I have equipment here. No, you do not need to come down and help. Please continue calibrating the comms. Attention, listeners, Janine De Luca here. I've just been informed by Mr. Yao that it is time for today's workout session. Please take a moment to gather two or more tin cans, two bags, and if possible, a chair for exercises you'll be doing later on. Ensure the bags have strong handles. Once you're ready, commence warming up, perhaps by jogging on the spot.

Unfortunately, I'm rather busy attending to a task in Abel's workshop at present. Under the workshop, to be precise. I'm in a crawl space, stripping out old copper wiring for use elsewhere. Still, I have a portable mic, so we can conduct our workout as planned. In fact, being in a confined space has brought to mind exercises for those locked down with limited room, such as Runner Thirty-One, who is unfortunately trapped within a cottage pantry.

So on to today's first exercise: seated leg raises. For this, you'll need one sturdy chair and just enough space to stretch your legs. I believe Thirty-One has that much room in his pantry, along with several thousand legumes. If you don't have room, continue jogging. Otherwise, sit upright in your chair with your back straight and your hands on the chair on either side of you. Plant your left foot on the floor, then straighten your right leg so it extends in front of you with your hip flexed and your knee straight. Hold the leg there for a few seconds, then lower it.

We will raise and lower your right leg thusly for 30 seconds, then your left for 30 more. And start. That's it, keep going. 15 seconds down. You're doing well, everyone. Please ignore my working in the background. Very good. 30 seconds, listeners. Switch to your left leg. That's it, 15 seconds left, listeners. We are both nearly done. The wiring down here is from defunct pre-apocalypse electrics. There is little left to salvage. And exercise complete, as is my collection operation.

I shall trigger a music break while I emerge from the crawl space. You could continue exercising or relax, listeners. I admit I've let Mr. Yao pick out today's songs, so I imagine something cheerful should be about to play.

JANINE DE LUCA: Welcome back, everyone. I'm afraid I am far from done with the day's labors, so you will have to bear with me while I conduct essential work. Abel's machine shop has been rather cluttered for the last few months. Just before the superhorde, we recovered a crashed military drone from nearby countryside, an extremely advanced attack model. Mr. Yao claims it resembles a predatory bird, though I know few birds of car size. At first I was worried the drone was damaged beyond repair, but I have had ample incentive to work on it of late. Now while I rewire some circuits on the drone's underside, you've a round of torso twists to do.

Use the tin cans and bags you obtained earlier. Place one tin in each bag. Feel free to use more tins for a greater challenge. This ought to be a fine use for all those cans of condensed milk in your pantry, Runner Thirty-One. Of course, you wouldn't have been trapped by the horde if you hadn't disobeyed orders to go back for those cans. Now sit holding the weights very close to your chest. Twist from the waist to your left hand side, then twist back to the center, and then twist to the opposite side. Keep alternating twists like this for one minute. And begin.

Very good, 15 seconds complete. For camaraderie purposes, you may wish to know I am removing fused components from the drone. They are of a similar heft to your weights. That's it, 30 seconds elapsed. Patience is the key, listeners, in exercise and engineering. No matter how many panels need to be pried loose, one must persist. 15 seconds left, nearly done. And exercise complete.

It has been weeks of work, listeners, but I am close to restoring this drone, I know it. Air support in this day and age... it could bring us a major victory against the superhorde. Dr. Myers is concerned that I've been going without sleep for the project. For more than a few days, in honesty, but completion is so near. I need only... [components zap] Ah, damn! I need only bypass the power systems. The main battery still holds charge, but its connections are ruined. This wiring is delicate. I must concentrate. More music will follow. Rest or continue pushing yourselves and when I return, with any luck, some progress will have been made.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. You have just missed Mr. Yao, who has been down here on the pretext of delivering unsolicited cocoa. The truth is, weathering the superhorde, trying to plan a counterattack... the pressure has been intense. Bouts of flu and dysentery have other settlements low on medical supplies, beseeching us for aid. Tinkering in here is the closest thing to relaxation I've been able to manage. Hopefully you have found our exercises similarly restorative.

Today's next task: incline press-ups. If you're confined near stairs, find them. Adopt a press-up position with your hands shoulder-width apart on the second or third step of your stairs and your back straight. Bend your arms to lower your body until your chest is close to the floor, hold there for a count of two, then return to your starting position.

For those of you without stairs, like Thirty-One or Runners Nineteen and Twenty-Two who are trapped in the ale house toilet after a failed romantic escape, try wall press-ups. Stand before a wall with your legs together and your arms straight out with your palms on the wall at shoulder height, shoulder-width apart. Keep your back straight and bend your elbows to bring your nose close to the wall. Hold for two seconds, then return to your starting position.

There will be one minute of press-ups. Begin. 15 seconds down. I believe I am close to finishing the rewiring. 30 seconds down. The drone appears to be coming online. Excellent. 45 seconds down. I imagine wall press-ups are especially useful for Runner Thirteen, who is sheltering in an old police box, to Mr. Yao’s perplexing amusement.

And stop. The drone is ready for launch. With so little fuel, there is no opportunity to test it, but I have a plan in mind. The people need a victory against the horde. To be candid, I feel I need one, too. There will be a music break while I conduct the launch. Recoup or continue doing press-ups. When you hear from me again, we shall find out one way or another whether my efforts here have been in vain.

SAM YAO: Uh, hello? Hello, listeners, are you there? It's Sam in the comms shack. Janine told me to take over the broadcast while she launches her drone. Apparently, she's rigged up a remote to steer it, so she's got to focus on that. [paper rustles]Anyway, she's given me a list of exercises for you. Next one is... oh, planking. Janine says it's, uh, an excellent test of patience, inspired by Runner Twelve, who's stuck in the back of an overturned campervan. She's been planking to pass the time.

So lie down on your front, supporting your weight on your forearms and tiptoes. Keep your back straight and lock your core. You're going to hold that pose for 60 seconds. And go. Oh! Got an update from Janine. The drone just launched, and ah, I see it on the cams, rising from the workshop like a big scary robot eagle. 15 seconds down. That's it, plank like Runner Twelve. Halfway done. Huh, that's weird, the drone's just drifting over the horde. I mean, shouldn't it be, I don't know, shooting missiles or something? 45 seconds down. Keep your body locked. Imagine you're that drone soaring through the air like a plank. And done. Good job, everyone!

Yeah, there's still no bombs or missiles from our drone. It's uh, oh, it's losing altitude, drifting east toward Naxdale Settlement. Yeah, they've always been a bit twitchy over there. They keep claiming some mysterious beast is looting their stores. I mean, everyone knows it's just rats. Anyway, I'd better check in with Janine, make sure everything's okay. You guys know the drill, keep exercising or relax in the break and I'll be right back.

SAM YAO: Hey, folks! Me again. Couldn't get ahold of Janine. She must be busy steering the drone. Well, I guess we should just get on with our exercises. Uh, the next one is inch worming. According to Janine, it's Runner Thirty-One's favorite, even if he only has enough space to halfway do it in his pantry. Janine says it's the kind of bracing challenge that patience sometimes earns. Right.

So stand up straight, feet hip-width apart, then slowly bend forward, putting your hands on the floor in front of your feet as near as you can get them to your toes. Walk your hands forward, keeping your abs engaged, until your back is completely straight, then reverse it. Walk your arms back to your feet and stand up straight again. And well, just keep doing that over and over again for one minute. Ready? And go.

Hmm. Uh, you've done 15 seconds. Oh, that drone is getting really low. It's banking. Oh my God, it's going down!. Uh... uh, sorry, listeners. Um, yeah, you're halfway done. I'm just a bit distracted here. The drone’s careered right into the middle of Naxdale Settlement. Uh, I'm checking nearby cams. This can't be good. Uh, yeah, 15 seconds left, guys. Looks like the locals in Naxdale are surrounding our crashed drone. They look really agitated. Uh, good job, everyone. That's one minute.

Listen, I'm gonna raise Janine, find out what's happening. You just... hang in there. Janine's been slaving over that thing for weeks. If it's some kind of dud, she'll be devastated. Oh God, I hope Naxdale don't think we're attacking them. Okay, this could be bad, but don't panic. I'm just... just going to put on some relaxing music for you to cool down to while we get this straightened out. Oh boy.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. I apologize for alarming you and Mr. Yao. All is well, I simply chose to focus on implementing my plan before explaining it. Lost time is lost health in this case. The drone was never meant to fight the horde, you see. We lack the ammunition for that. No, the drone is packed with medical supplies. I gutted its weapons systems to make room. I have piloted the drone to our nearby neighbors.

And to those listening from Naxdale, you are entitled to 1/8th of its contents. The drone's landing gear is permanently jammed, hence today's crash. You will use spare parts aboard to repair any landing damage and I will pilot it to the next nearest settlement, where this process will repeat. The drone has enough fuel to deliver to every settlement for miles. You will all get the supplies you need. And if anyone tries to take more than their share, well, the drone has a self-destruct.

We could not beat the horde with one damaged drone, listeners, but sometimes the key to victory is redefining your success conditions. No settlement near Abel will run out of key supplies. That is worth a little lost sleep, I fancy. Alas, we are out of time for today's exercise session. Naxdale, I will be in touch to help prepare the drone.

And everyone else, please do watch the skies. I promise when you need Abel Township, we will be there. That goes doubly for Runner Thirty-One and all the other runners out there in tight spaces. One day soon, we will be coming to rescue you, no matter what it takes, I swear. This is Janine De Luca, signing off for now.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf 17 #drone on #zr transcript

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aceofwhump · 4 years

Note

I recently started watching leverage and am almost done, my friend told me that you're the person to ask for good whump fic recs so if you maybe have any that be great. Thank you

Hi there!! Ah that’s so exciting!! Leverage is so good! And yes I most certainly do have fic recs for you!! Although I hope you enjoy Eliot whump cause that’s all I read lol.

Here’s a very long list of all my favorite Eliot whump fics. Enjoy!

by waters sent from thee, my heaven dissolved so by prionsa

Summary: Even brave and true Eliot Spencer can’t compress his emotions forever. This is a snapshot, of a dam breaking.

The Safe and Sound Job by flutterflap

Summary: Eliot Spencer doesn’t do hospitals

Stay on the Ride (It’s Gonna Take You Somewhere) by hannasus

Summary: As he dangled over the edge of the ravine, forty feet above the ground below, Eliot wondered when, exactly, everything had gone so completely to shit.

Wake Up Exhausted by jendavis

Summary: “Written for comment_fic prompt: ”“Leverage, Eliot (/Hardison)+ team, they thought waking him up on the morning of his birthday with firecrackers would be a good idea.”“ Takes place in between “The Studio Job” and “The Gone Fishin’ Job.”

Broken by meils121

Summary: No sane person would ever reach out and touch Eliot’s arm just then, so maybe it’s a good thing that Parker isn’t sane.

Watching His Back by Telaryn

Summary: Following the events of The Experimental Job, Hardison checks up on Eliot and find that the hitter isn’t recovering as well as they’d hoped.

In The Darkness by ScoutLover

Summary: Eliot’s locked in another dungeon, but this one is … different

Rise by Our Falls by jesterlady

Summary: ”Eliot, why don’t you take the rest of the job off?”

Just One Step by Bacardivodka

Summary: All he had to do was take just one step, then another, then another. Easy, right?

The One Crutch Job by JBMcDragon

Summary: “It had been the simplest of plans, the easiest of heists, and a fantastic coincidence that all three of them were in Paris at the same time. It was practically set up for them.

Then everything went wrong. With Eliot captured and the rest of the team on the way, a rescue is the first priority. Getting him to a hospital is second. Taking down the bad guy comes a distant third. For once, none of them mind coming in third.”

Letting Go by ScoutLover

Summary: Eliot doesn’t want them to see the price he pays for keeping them safe. They’re not concerned about what he wants.

Damages by ScoutLover

Summary: Eliot’s never really known when to just lie down and die

Trust for Christmas by Soquilii9

Summary: Based on Leverage: The Toy Job

Falling Into by whimseyrhodes

Summary: They handle him with kit gloves when he’s injured and for a wonder, he lets them.

The Influenza Job by james

Summary: In the middle of a job, Eliot gets the flu. He copes about as well as you’d expect.

Crash Landing by Orockthro

Summary: “Set after the Mile High Job in Season 1. "You’re not fine,” the grifter protested, putting a hand on his shoulder and purposefully invading his space. “You fainted.”

Taking Care of Eliot by waterbird13

Summary: After the Tap Out Job, Parker and Hardison are understandably a little worried about their man. They just want to take care of him.

Crimson Regret by whimseyrhodes

Summary: When Eliot is captured for an illegal fight club, will the others get to him in time, or will he die in the ring?

Sacrifices We Make by whimseyrhodes

Summary: Eliot takes a bullet for a teammate.

The place to call home by thosepreciouswalls

Summary: Tomorrow. Eliot will be home tomorrow. The job ain’t done yet. He just needs to keep it together ‘til he gets home. (What happens after the ending of The Rundown Job)

The 3 Times Eliot and the 1 Time He Didn't By: Lunawolf5

Summary: Eliot falls asleep around the team three times and than the one time where he cant sleep anymore.

Last Dance By: jibber59

Summary: My take on what should have happened at the end of the Reunion Job. Yes - once again I have to mess with then ending of one of the stories. What can I say - I want my boy to get more attention!

Beige Feather By: Patska

Summary: During the next con not everything went flawlessly and now Eliot suffers from his injuries. Nate, Sophie, Hardison and Parker immediately came to help, despite his protests. Everything happens somewhere during Season 1, when Eliot was not get used to get help from team members.

The San Lorenzo Job REDUX By: Ginipig

Summary: The San Lorenzo Job from Eliot’s point of view. After the events of The Big Bang Job, Eliot wonders if he should move on from Leverage Consulting. As he returns to San Lorenzo for the first time in years, he remembers why he left Moreau and the one and a half times he saved General Flores, all while trying to keep the team alive and defeat Moreau once and for all.

Awake and Unafraid, Asleep or Dead By: Avid Reider

Summary: Eliot’s been missing for a month. When the team finds him, they realize it’ll take more than a few playful pokes and light-hearted jokes to get him through his ordeal. They finally learn what he’s willing to do for them.

A Vulnerable Hitter By: VisibleThunder

Summary: Eliot is their hitter. He is strong, and he does his job well. He protects his team- his family, whatever the cost. But he is still just a man. He can still be…vulnerable.

Hollow Inside By: akblake

Summary: What really happened after the end of The Big Bang Job… Eliot may seem fine in time for the next episode, but that’s only because Parker helped him through that night.

A Place to Stand By: Sunbird Riding Shotgun

Summary: Post 4x11. He made it through the job okay but in the aftermath Eliot suffers a flashback.

The Chicken and Stars Job By: Aoitori

Summary: Essentially a fluffy, H/C-tastic, multi-part tag to the season opener- the Long Way Down Job. Somehow, I just couldn't resist.

Feed By: wildwordwomyn

Summary: Alec receives an email containing a link. This is what happens when he opens it.

Who I Am By: No Illusions

Summary: “You’re not that man anymore,” Sophie had told him. The next day, Eliot Spencer had killed a dozen people. Tag to the Big Bang Job.

The Question Mark Job By: Mousme

Summary: Eliot gets the flu during a job.

Angels Bending Near By: whimseyrhodes

Summary: Trying to escape his nightmares, Eliot is plunged into another one, one that can happen to any of us.

At Arm’s Length By: whimseyrhodes

Summary: Tag and Missing Scene s for The Boost Job.

What’s in a Name? By: zippy zany

Summary: After a con gone wrong the team takes care of Eliot however during the night they are given a surprising piece of information.

Guilty Heart By: deanangst

Summary: Actions speak louder than words when it comes to trust.

Take the Punishment By: pdljmpr6

Summary: Post Tap Out Job. Eliot is used to taking a pounding and keeping right on going. The team isn’t quite so used to letting him. Eliot!whump and team fluffy goodness.

Getting Here By: Sunbird Riding Shotgun

Summary: Eliot is sick, Hardison and Parker are calling Nate Dad, and they’ve all ended up someplace they never expected to be.

Recovery By: Sunbird Riding Shotgun

Summary: Four days ago Eliot sacraficed himself so the others could escape. It took four days to rescue him. A lot can be done to a man in four days.

#whump #leverage #eliot spencer #mod post #ask #mod fic recs #fic recs #fanfics #mod replies #justmebeingtheweirdmeiam

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ruminativerabbi · 4 years

Text

Kindness in the Time of Cholera

I’m still up in the air about the whole thing in terms of where this potential catastrophe may be heading. But what seems beyond dispute to me is that we should be heeding the advice of those wise experts specifically whose counsel is to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. And equally clear to me is that we should be insisting unwaveringly that the government put the responsibility and authority to deal with this looming crisis squarely and solely in the hands of scientists, public health officials, physicians, and epidemiologists…and as far as possible from the hands of politicians.

One of the most intelligent essays about the coronavirus outbreak that I’ve read, by Donald G. McNeil Jr., was published in the New York Times just this week (click here) and I recommend it highly to you. Basically, he observes that there are two ways to deal with a looming pandemic. There’s the modern method of bringing to bear the full force of modern technology to identify the infected, to perfect a vaccine, to develop new strains of drugs to deal with the already-ill, etc. And then there’s the medieval method of locking the infected inside their own cities, closing borders, forbidding international travel or commerce, and quarantining people who may have inadvertently been exposed to the virus until the danger passes and the infected either recover or die.

The latter approach, the one McNeil calls “medieval,” surely does have an old-fashioned feel to it. And it equally surely features a harshness that will make most moderns uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work and hasn’t worked. President Benjamin Harrison, for example, apparently successful kept America safe from an outbreak of virulent cholera in 1892, for example, by closing American harbors to any ships arriving from Germany, the epicenter of that particular epidemic in Europe. But, as McNeil goes on to muse, just how possible would that approach be today really? The word “quarantine” derives from the Italian word for “forty” and came to have its current meaning because the Venetian Republic had the very successful idea during the Black Death plague epidemic in the mid-fourteenth century of requiring that all ships arriving in their port be isolated for a full forty days before their crew could come ashore or their cargo be unloaded. But Venice has one harbor and its masters had the ability absolutely to control the comings and goings of boats in and out of their city, whereas it is very hard to imagine that approach being fully successful in our globalized world of highly porous borders and uncontrolled (and uncontrollable) interstate travel. Nor am I only theorizing here. The Chinese actually have turned Wuhan, the city where the virus first erupted into the world, into a single huge quarantine zone. But the virus behind COVID-19 is still spreading dramatically in the world, both inside and outside of China.

The Jewish world has yet another way to combat a pandemic, one that was the subject of a fascinating piece on the Lehrhaus website that I read just last week. The essay, by Jeremy Brown, the director of the Office of Emergency Care Research at the National Institute of Health, concerns a long-forgotten ceremony developed specifically to address the possibility of epidemiological catastrophe: the shvartze chasaneh, literally “the black wedding.” (To read the full essay, click here.) The name, derived from the fact that brides normally wear white to their own weddings, was intended to suggest that the wedding in question is not just the union of an affianced couple eager to wed under a chuppah, but something else entirely—something rooted not in love and devotion, but in fear and community-wide anxiety.

As far as anyone knows, the last time anyone participated in a shvartze chasaneh was in 1918 at the peak of the Spanish flu epidemic. I’ve heard people mention that specific epidemic many times in the last few weeks, but even by today’s standards the numbers are still astounding. Five hundred million people around the world were infected, about a third of the entire population of the world. (Click here for more on that almost unbelievable number.) The death toll is estimated by most authorities to have been somewhere between forty and fifty million people, but some authorities put it as high as one hundred million. Life expectancy in the United States dropped by twelve years after just one year of the epidemic. This was a terrible time, the cataclysmic coda to the orgy of senseless killing that was the First World War. And the pandemic lasted for three full years, from the beginning of 1918 through the end of 1920.

The idea of the shvartze chasaneh itself is a simple one: the community seeks out a single man who is disabled, orphaned, and/or impoverished and arranges for him publicly to marry a similar destitute and handicapped woman. The ceremony takes place, as would any normal Jewish marriage, under a chuppah. But this chuppah is set up in a cemetery—perhaps as a way of inviting the dead to participate in the simchah—and then the community showers the couple with gifts, including gifts of cash, in the hope that this great act of kindness towards the especially needy will somehow avert the plague.

To document his research, Brown uncovered an account of one of these “black weddings” that took place in Philadelphia in 1918 during the height of the Spanish flu epidemic. Citing from a contemporary newspaper account published in the Public Ledger of Philadelphia, Brown reports that one Fanny Jacobs and one Harold Rosenberg were married just behind the first row of graves in the Jewish cemetery near Cobbs Creek, Pennsylvania, on Friday afternoon on October 25, 1918. A certain Rabbi Lipschitz presided; a full thousand spectators showed up to witness the union. And then, to quote the newspaper story directly, “spectators filed solemnly past the couple and made them presents of money in sums from ten cents to a hundred dollars, according to the means and circumstances of the donor, until more than $1,000 had been given.” And the point of the operation was also made explicit in the newspaper account: so that “the attention of God be called to the affliction of their fellows if the most humble man and woman among them should join in marriage in the presence of the dead.”

Nor was this something invented on the spot to deal with the influenza epidemic. The earliest report of a shvartze chasaneh goes back to 1785, when one was performed in the presence of two of the greatest hasidic masters, Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk and Rabbi Yaakov Yitzchak Halevi Horowitz (the latter better known today as the Seer of Lublin), and was intended to address an outbreak of cholera. Brown reports that similar wedding ceremonies took place for orphaned teenagers in Jerusalem and Tzfat in 1865 during an infestation of locusts that threatened to destroy the food source for the entire country. (The picture is of the one in Jerusalem.) They must have been quite something to see, those ceremonies: the one in Jerusalem took place amidst the graves on the Mount of Olives and the one in Tzfat took place in the old Jewish cemetery there, where the chuppah was set up between the graves of Rabbi Isaac Luria and Rabbi Joseph Karo, each in his own way the spiritual leader of an entire generation of Jewish people. Other such ceremonies took place in Berdichev in 1866 and at Opatow in 1892, which town Joan and I actually visited last summer.

The Philadelphia ceremony inspired at least one further attempt to ward off the flu epidemic: on November 11, 1918—the very day of the armistice that ended the war—a similar wedding was held in Winnipeg, duly reported in the Winnipeg Evening Tribune under the headline “Hebrews Hold Wedding of Death to Halt Flu.”

I do not think—at least not yet—that we should consider going this route at the current time with respect to COVID-19. But I do think that we could be inspired—and profoundly—by the idea that underlying our response to what could conceivably turn into a world-wide pandemic should be the same sense Jews of a different day had that one responds to the possibility of disaster by being kind and generous, by reaching out formally and publicly to the most needy, by focusing on the future and not solely on the calamity at hand, and by refusing to abandon our most basic values merely because we suddenly find ourselves negotiating straits that even a few months ago were unknown to any of us. The notion that the correct response to looming catastrophe lies in deeds of compassion and charity is very resonant with me personally. My plan for the moment is to wash my hands carefully and often, to leave the real decision making to the kind of public health experts who actually know what they are talking about, and to try to avert the worst by ramping up Joan and my gifts of charity to the poor and the most needy, and I encourage you to do the same!

#shvartze chasaneh #COVID-19

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znaeb · 5 years

Note

heyy!can you do an imagine in which reader visits the boys on tour and has to share a bunk with one of them?surprise me with the pairing ;) p.s.love your writing style!!

Poor Planning // N.M.

You were so excited to visit your best friend Brandon, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside of you as the plane landed. You grabbed your carryon from the overhead compartment and made your way through the airport to find the group of boys who were picking you up.

you looked around the airport for them, smiling when you saw Zion’s head peeking out over the top of a small group of people.

“Guys!” you called towards them, waving when they heard your voice and turned towards you. You both rushed forward, immediately being engulfed in a big hug from Austin. Zion was quick to follow, but Edwin and Brandon hung back.

“Hey, B… Ed?” you smiled and furrowed your eyebrows, “um, is everything okay?”

“I–,” Brandon accidentally cut himself off with a sneeze and then a weird half-sneeze-half-cough, “I’m pretty sure i have the flu…” he sighed and looked upset.

“and I’m pretty sure he gave me the flu…” Edwin shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, they’re supposed to be resting, but Brandon he just had to come with us to get you.” Zion rolled his eyes playfully.

“Aw, I’m so sorry, B.” you frowned and quickly squeezed his shoulder.

As you all walked towards the car parked outside you and Brandon stayed slightly behind as the other three walked ahead.

“Where’s Nick?” you questioned.

“He was busy,” Brandon answered nonchalantly.

You nodded, unsurprised. You and Nick had never gotten along well. Your interactions were rarely pleasant, both of you taking every opportunity to land a good zinger and make the other mad. It was one of the reasons you were hesitant to visit the boys while they were on tour, you didn’t want to spend the whole trip frustrated and arguing with Nick.

on the drive home, you had so much fun talking with the boys, even stopping at taco bell to grab some food. when the car arrived back at the lot where the bus was parked you all spilled out and rushed towards the tour-bus to play Super Smash Bros. Feeling the need to reclaim your title as queen of the game when Zion claimed that he could beat you.

When you walked in Nick was sitting on the couch on his phone, already seeming annoyed by your presence, rolling his eyes when you said ‘hi’ to him.

“Oh, we brought you taco bell,” you said as kindly as you could and handed him the takeaway bag. smiling smugly at the surprised expression on his face.

“Thanks,” he said curtly and nodded in your direction.

the tension was impossible to miss and the other boys stood there in awkward silence until Austin spoke up saying, “well then, let’s play smash bros.”

Nick left the room as you began to play and your blood boiled, you were so confused and annoyed by his behavior. you’d never done anything to him.

—-

later that night you ran into a problem… you didn’t know where you were supposed to sleep. Brandon and Edwin were obviously out because you weren’t down to catch the flu, and Zion and Austin were both too large to share their tiny bunks.

you brought the problem to Brandon and his suggestion was simple, “I’ll ask Nick if you can share with him.” he shrugged and stood up, obviously he didn’t fully understand the deep-seated issues between you and Nick. you protested but he was adamant that he could get Nick to act reasonably. needless to say, you did not share his certainty.

you stayed in the main area of the bus and waited as he went to talk to Nick, cringing as you imagined the conversation that was about to ensue.

Nick stormed out from the bunk area holding a pillow and blanket, looking at you with annoyance painted all over his face before throwing his things down on the small seating area, which could barely be considered a couch, and saying, “my bunk’s the middle one on the left.”

“I didn’t tell Brandon to ask you. I’ll sleep out here, you don’t have to.” you apologized sincerely, never wanting to kick him out of his own bed.

“Just take it, I really don’t feel like pissing off Brandon.” he rolled his eyes at you and laid down, pulling out his phone.

“thank you, Nick.” you tried to show your appreciation, but you were practically ignored. you mumbled a ‘goodnight’ before walking into the bunk area.

—-

on the third night you turned in early, Brandon and Edwin were slowly recovering but very worn out from performing and afraid that they could still be contagious.

you’d been laying in bed for a while and you were hovering right on the edge of sleep when the bunk curtain was pulled back and your shoulder was nudged repeatedly.

“Hey, scoot the fuck over,” Nick spoke gruffly, rubbing his eyes.

“Nick? what time is it?” you asked offhandedly and began to move to the side.

“it’s one AM and my back fucking hurts,” he said rudely as he climbed into the bunk and sighed in relief at the soft mattress under his body.

“I told you I’d sleep in there,” you said defensively and looked over at him.

“I don’t even care, just let me sleep please.” he groaned and rolled onto his side, facing your direction but still a reasonable distance from you. you didn’t respond, trying to avoid more unnecessary conflict.

you looked at him for a moment. he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a small gold chain around his neck. his hair was messy and his closed eyelids fluttered every now and then.

you’d always thought that Nick was very attractive, you even had a small crush on him when you first met– before you realized how unpleasant he was. you huffed and rolled onto your side to face away from him, wrapping your blanket around yourself and closing your eyes to sleep.

—-

you woke up at around four AM. you were comfortable, but something was off. it wasn’t until you began to roll onto your back that you felt the arm wrapped around your middle, the legs intertwined with yours, and the head nestled in the crook of your neck. your eyes snapped open and you looked down to see a sleeping Nick practically wrapped around you.

you didn’t know how to react. on the one hand, this was very weird and unexpected… but on the other, you didn’t want to wake him up and cause awkwardness where you didn’t have to.

one of your arms was trapped underneath his neck and the other was wrapped around his shoulder. he began to stir so, flustered, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep. you felt him lift his head and do the same thing you were just doing– trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

he began to pull away and you thought that this weird situation was over, but instead, you heard the bunk curtain be pulled closed and then felt his arms come back to wrap tightly around your body.

you hated to admit it to yourself, but this made you very happy. his skin was warm against yours and his strong arms held you perfectly. with one hand, his fingers played with the ends of your hair and the other spread across your lower back, holding you to him comfortably.

you both fell back asleep after a while and when you woke up the next morning you were separated, both your backs turned towards the other.

—-

although neither of you acknowledged what had happened– as far as you knew he didn’t even know that you were awake, the tone changed in your relationship. you didn’t become best friends by any means, but there were no more rude remarks or jabs, he even helped you climb down from the bunk when you got up since your legs couldn’t reach the floor.

the other boys noticed and were understandably confused. at one point Brandon mentioned it and you and Nick shared a look before shrugging and continuing to eat your breakfast, leaving him even more confused than before.

Brandon and Edwin had a doctor’s appointment and the other three boys went to practice the choreography for their show so you were alone on the bus for a little while.

you used the opportunity to take a quick shower, then got dressed in a comfy oversized tee shirt and small athletic shorts and started to head out to the main area of the bus. you stopped in your tracks when you saw Nick sitting at the small booth in the main area, elbows leaned on the table.

you made brief eye contact with him as you entered but looked away quickly and went to the kitchenette to get a snack. in your peripheral vision, you saw him stand, but you didn’t look over even when you felt him getting closer to you.

you jumped when his hands softly landed on your hips, your whole body stiffening.

“I know you were awake last night,” he said softly in your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“W-what?” you stuttered, feigning confusion.

one of his hands wrapped further around you and pulled your back into his front, the other hand moved a piece of your hair to give him room to place his chin on your shoulder.

“I felt your heartbeat speed up when i held you… i felt your breathing speed up,” he said, turning his head to look at the side of your face and waiting for you to respond.

“I…” you sighed and looked around the room, trying to gather your thoughts, “i was nervous…”

“Why?” the question was impossible to answer seeing as you had no idea why you were nervous.

“I don’t know.” you shook your head, you could feel your cheeks heating up and you turned your face away so that he couldn’t see you blush.

“Look at me,” he said sternly, his deep voice somehow making you listen. you turned your face to look at him and were met with kind eyes, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“What?” you questioned anxiously.

“I liked it…” he said quietly, his hand playing with the bottom of your shirt.

“you… liked it? what?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“yeah,” he spoke calmly, “i liked it.”

he then pulled away and looked at you as he stepped towards the door of the bus, he then turned fully and left. leaving you feeling flustered, your mind racing.

a few moments later Brandon and Edwin arrived back from their appointment and you had to pretend like everything was normal.

—-

as you watched their show that night, you couldn’t keep your eyes from drifting over to Nick. thankfully, because of the intense lights they had shining on him, he wasn’t able to see you well enough to notice.

you wouldn’t say that you were looking forward to going to bed tonight, but you were certainly curious if he would try something. your interaction earlier that day had jarred you and you weren’t sure how to proceed.

after the show, you all went out and got drinks. you ended up getting back to the bus late, all of the boys pretty drunk. you giggled at them as they stumbled around the bus looking for different things.

you got ready for bed quickly, putting on a big tee shirt and boyshorts then washing your face and brushing your teeth. you migrated back to the bunk area, peeking your head into the main room to say goodnight to the boys on the way.

when you got to Nick’s bunk you climbed in and covered yourself with the blanket, then pulled out your phone and began scrolling through Instagram and checking in with your friends at home. you looked over when you heard someone in the hallway next to the bunk, peeking through the small gap between the wall and the curtain and saw Nick slipping on a shirt, hair wet from the shower.

you watched carefully as he pulled back the curtain and climbed into bed, shutting off your phone and placing it to the side. he laid facing you, arms crossed in front of his chest. at that moment you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and bury your face in his chest and feel the fabric of his soft, dark green tee shirt against your skin.

you lifted your hand and played with the fabric on the sleeve of his shirt, his eyes stayed glued to your face as he considered his next move. he sighed, throwing caution to the wind, placing a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed in contentment. he buried his head in your neck and ran his hand up and down your back.

“Hi.” you smiled and played with the hair at the back of his head.

“Hi there,” he whispered back, smiling against your shoulder. you scratched his back gently as he did the same to you.

you giggled when he wrapped his hand around the back of your thigh and pulled it to drape over his waist, his hand then resting on top of it, thumb caressing your skin.

“Hey, Nick?” you whispered softly, unable to keep yourself from questioning this whole situation.

“Hm?” he responded sleepily, hand moving to rest on your side.

“What does this… mean?” you struggled to find the proper words to ask him.

“I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully and then moved his head to look at you, “But i know that I don’t want it to stop.”

you looked at him for a moment before asking the question that had been on the tip of your tongue, “Why were you always so mean to me?” you asked earnestly, hoping that the answer isn’t hurtful.

“Because Brandon liked you… so i couldn’t like you too because that would make me a bad friend,” he said, looking into your eyes and nodding his head once to make his point, “then after that, i didn’t know how to change the dynamic so i just let it stay the same.”

“But Brandon has a girlfriend.” you shook your head, not fully buying his answer.

“He didn’t two years ago when he introduced you to us,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Shit…” you stared at his face as you realized that what he was saying was true. you knew that Brandon had feelings for you at one time, but you didn’t know about them until after they were long gone.

“Yeah.” he chuckled at you and then bit his lip, “I’m sorry about all that by the way,” he said honestly.

“I’m not upset about it… i wasn’t too kind either.” you cringed as you thought back to some of your past conversations with him, wishing you could reclaim your words.

“I’m not worried about it.” he smiled and shifted slightly closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“Okay.” you smiled and played with the collar of his shirt, pulling at a loose thread and then looking back to meet his eyes.

you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. both of you uncertain about the future, but excited by it at the same time.

****

This is a long one guys! idk why but this request just sent me, man. it’s like purely fluff, but lemme know if you want me to write a part 2 that goes in a different direction or one that keeps going in a similar direction to this :P Thanks for the fun request @prettydamnmuchinlove !

#nick mara #nick mara imagines #prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #tour #request

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byebyeskylark · 4 years

Text

Forsake

[A third ficlet for your lockdown enjoyment.]

Damian started awake, surprised to see Father standing near the bed, his outline dark against the faint light from the windows behind him. At least he was far enough away to dodge. Most of the family had a "do not touch to wake" rule.

"Damian, I'm sorry to wake you…"

"What's happened?" Damian asked gruffly, throwing the covers off and sliding to the side of the bed. It must have been bad if Father was waking him at this hour, 4 AM if he was reading the clock correctly.

"Cassandra was hit with fear gas, and she's...not herself." His voice was tired and strained.

Damian reached to turn on the bedside lamp and looked up at his father. Bruce was still wearing the compression tee that he wore under the suit, though he'd put on sweatpants. It was an odd mix of sleek muscle on top and a rather dumpy-looking bottom half. Damian could see he hadn't showered yet, his hair was rumpled and crushed with dry sweat and he still smelled faintly of leather and the myriad materials of the suit. His face was lined with exhaustion and worry.

Damian failed to see why Bruce had woken him to tell him this, but also knew that kind of sentiment would be met with disappointment and anger. He waited for Bruce to elaborate.

Bruce sighed and sat down heavily on the bed.

"I lost track of her after I collared Scarecrow. He had a lot of muscle this time or she never would have taken the risk of exposure. She bolted, even ditched the parts of the suit with trackers."

Their belts and cowls, and comms earpieces, had GPS built in.

"I was checking the clock tower when Alfred told me someone had tripped the alarms here."

Damian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. None of them ever tripped the manor's hidden security sensors, their locations and work-arounds were drilled into them.

"Now she's holed up in her bathroom, won't let Alfred or I near her. Even Dick tried."

Dick had been noisily recovering from the flu at the manor for the last few days.

Damian had a sudden suspicion of where this was going.

"Stephanie and Barbara are the obvious choices for winning her trust," Damian supplied, "But they are out of town." Gone with Tim to help some Titans with a side-project.

"Yes. I think- she hasn't spoken, so this is guesswork," Bruce ran a hand over his face, "The three of us are adult men, I'm concerned that in her altered state we remind her of David Cain. I'm not even certain she recognizes us."

"Damian, I know it's a long shot and that you-" he paused, "I was hoping you could try to get close to her, at least make her a little more comfortable. If she won't leave the bathroom. She won't take blankets from us, she gets upset if we get too close."

It was logical, Damian supposed. He was still young, didn't yet have the height or breadth he hoped to achieve. His voice was changing, but he didn't quite have the adult depth he assumed he would eventually. It was possible Cassandra would see him as less of a threat. Yet he was ill-suited to the role of nursemaid.

"Dr. Thompkins?" he asked hopefully.

Bruce shook his head.

"Out of town for a conference."

Damian suppressed a sigh and stood, stiff-backed, to retrieve his robe. He moved past Bruce to lead the way from the room, but Bruce stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, pulled him into a brief hug.

"Thank you, Damian." The relief was easy to hear in his voice.

Damian harrumphed in the way that meant "I appreciate physical affection but am unable to admit it at the moment" and tightened the belt of his robe as they walked together down the hall to Cassandra's room, next to Alfred's.

At the opposite end of the long hall from the master bedroom, Cassandra's room had originally been the lady-of-the-house's, the manor being old enough to remember the days when wealthy couples had separate bedrooms as a matter of course. Its color palette was lighter than many of the more masculine rooms on the family's floor of the house, and the decadent canopy bed was wreathed in floral fabric.

Alfred and Dick were quietly talking by the room's fireplace, slumped tiredly in the armchairs there. They perked as Damian and Bruce walked in.

"Good, reinforcements," Alfred said, standing and displaying more of his usual briskness.

"Dami, thanks for giving this a try," Dick said, his voice still stuffy from the remnants of his flu.

Damian nodded curtly in reply. He turned to look at the open door of the bathroom, a night light's glow emanating from it. He knew from reading reports on the cave's computer that harsh light often had as bad an effect as total darkness on people exposed to Crane's fear toxin. Sensory overload.

He didn't want to do this. What could he possibly do or say to get Cassandra to trust him? Cassandra Cain, one of the most brutally efficient killers the League had ever seen.

Damian could feel their eyes on him, the three members of this family whose opinions he cared about most. He steeled himself and went to the open door. Alfred joined him there.

"I had hoped to help her clean up and get comfortable, but I'm afraid she isn't having it," Alfred spoke softly. He held a bowl of water with a washcloth soaking in it. Damian could make out Cassandra's shape, curled up loosely on the floor by the toilet, her face pressed limply to the cold tile. Her eyes, open wide and unblinking, glinted in the half-light.

His nose wrinkled; he could smell vomit. As his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness Damian could make out the offending material on the toilet seat. Just outside the door to the bathroom was the large, fluffy down comforter off of Cassandra's bed, folded as neatly as the puffy material allowed.

Damian kept the distaste off his face and took the bowl from Alfred.

"My lad, you don't need to do everything I would do," Alfred assured him, "If you can just get her wrapped up and off that frigid tile I'll call it a victory." His face was worried, Damian assumed for Cassandra.

Damian took a few steps into the bathroom. Cassandra stirred a little, coiling to be ready for more movement. Damian stopped and considered his options.

Cassandra didn't speak much in general and Father said she hadn't spoken since getting gassed. Her first language was body language. She was cornered and terrified, the toxin likely amping up her heart rate and her fight or flight response.

Except "flight" had probably been beaten out of her as a child.

Getting another whiff of vomit Damian felt a wave of anger. Why in hell should he be expected to comfort this assassin who couldn't even hold herself together under duress? He was heir to more than one great legacy, and this was beneath him.

He mentally stomped on that thought as hard as he could. Instead he imagined that Cassandra was a wounded animal: how would he gain her trust? As for the vomit: he'd had to clean up messes made by Alfred the Cat and Titus. This was no different.

A part of him felt a little guilty for comparing Cassandra to pets or an animal, but if it quashed his more arrogant tendencies he would embrace it.

First, he needed to get on her level. He crouched and carefully set the china bowl down on the tile nearby, trying to keep it from clinking too loudly. Moving slowly, he stretched himself out on the floor of the bathroom, still out of range of Cassandra's arms or legs if she chose to lash out. Showing her that he wasn't coming nearer anytime soon by laying on his stomach and resting his chin on his hands. The floor was cold, but it was certainly nothing he couldn't stand.

As he lay there he could make out more detail. Cassandra kept tensing and then relaxing, her body shuddering with effort: her instinct was obviously to move, or remain ready for movement, but her body was exhausted. After darting around, ensuring that the figures in the next room weren't moving closer, her eyes landed on him and stayed there. Her mouth was open, panting silently. A smear of vomit clung to it. She reminded him of a stressed falcon Damian has seen once, trapped in an insect net, driven to exhaustion by the need to escape and the fear of the humans trying to cut it free.

He held her gaze, staying still except to slowly blink at her occasionally. They stayed like that for five, ten, then twenty minutes. He could feel at least one of the other three keeping an eye on them, but they didn't say anything. He fancied he could hear someone snoring–Grayson probably.

Finally, as her breathing evened out slightly, Cassandra mimicked the slow blink back at him. Damian was pleased, and contemplating his next steps, when he noticed her trembling hand move. She carefully signed his name, spelling it out letter by letter.

He surprised himself by smiling a little. Moving cautiously he signed,

“Cassandra. You are safe. The toxin lies.”

Damian was irritated with himself that he had to spell most of the message. He didn't remember the signs for "safe" or "toxin." Signing while propped up on his elbows wasn't helping.

Even though he'd been laying there for nearly half an hour waiting for Cassandra to relax, it only now occurred to him to wonder what the fear toxin made her feel, or see. What did Cassandra Cain fear?

He watched as she shakily spelled more words. She was only using one hand, the other curled up against her chest. It made him feel slightly better about not remembering as much ASL as he should.

“Why did you forsake the League?”

Damian didn't think he could have been more surprised by a question than he was this one, in this moment, phrased more eloquently than Cassandra generally spoke. He tried to think of why she would ask, what answer she was looking for, but as the seconds ticked by her breathing increased in speed. He decided the wrong answer might be better than no answer.

“I did not want to blindly obey. Not when I could not trust the orders to be wise and just.”

Cassandra's breathing slowed again. Damian was surprised to see tears sliding across her nose and down her cheek, onto the floor where her head still lay. She gave him the barest hint of a smile, the kind only Cassandra gave. A thing of gentle understanding that he'd seen her break out in the middle of battles, and sibling squabbles, and in the face of Father's most impenetrably dark moods. It was almost always completely at odds with her surroundings, yet it was one of the most endearingly "Cassandra" things she did.

“May I help you get more comfortable?” Damian signed.

Barely any sound came out as she mouthed "Yes" to him.

In short order he had helped her sit up and wrapped the enormous comforter around her. As she settled herself so that the downy blanket was between her and the cold floor, Damian quickly swiped at the toilet seat with a wad of toilet paper, dropping it in. When he turned back to her, Cassandra was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed as her body shivered in the cocoon of blanket she'd made.

Damian hesitated, decided it was better to give her warning,

"I'm just going to wipe your face, Cassandra," he whispered, before gently pressing the cool, damp washcloth to the side of her mouth and letting it sit for a moment before he wiped away the stain there. She didn't move; he suspected she was drifting toward sleep. The best thing that could be said about Crane's toxin was that the body, with its elevated heart rate, sometimes exhausted itself quickly enough for the release of sleep to overtake the victim.

Damian sat back on his heels, wondering if it was safe to move her to her bed.

"Cassandra." He spoke a little louder this time. Her eyelids fluttered at him, blinking slowly, continuously, as she tried to focus on him.

"May we move you to your bed? Father and I?"

She nodded just once before her eyes slid shut for the night.

Bruce didn't wait for Damian to signal him, but approached and squatted to gather Cassandra and the poufy comforter in his arms. He stood with no apparent effort and turned to step sideways out the bathroom door.

Alfred helped Bruce disentangle the comforter from Cassandra's still shivering body, remove some remaining armor, and settle it back over her. Dick came in, bleary-eyed, having been sent to retrieve one of the heated blankets from the linen closet. Bruce plugged it in as Alfred and Dick spread it over her, tucking blankets closer to her feet. Damian paused only to flush the toilet in Cassandra's bathroom before heading with the rest of the family toward the door of the suite.

As he closed her door behind him Alfred turned to Damian,

"That was excellent work, my boy."

Damian had rarely heard Alfred praise anyone so effusively. He felt heat spreading across his face. He ducked his head and pretended to stifle a yawn.

Later

Damian was sketching in the rose garden when Cassandra found him. Only some of the roses were in bloom so early in the season, but the warmth of the sun lingered in the stone pavers and the bench he sat on as he shaded a picture of Titus leaping to catch a frisbee.

Cassandra settled carefully onto the other end of the bench. She moved like someone two, three times her age, something Damian had never seen her do, even when seriously injured.

They sat in silence, interrupted only by the scratch of Damian's charcoal and the soft hum of the insects in the garden.

"Thank you."

She said it with her face upturned and relaxed, eyes closed to the brightness of the sun.

Damian didn't respond. He was memorizing the way her neck stretched away from her shoulders and her hair fell back from her ears. Knowing that a portrait of her in this moment would likely move Father nearly to tears when he gave it to him at Christmas.

He meant to flip the page on his pad and start making rough notes to start said portrait, but he remained still.

"What were you afraid of?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, like the languor of the warm garden had pulled them from him.

She turned her to him, squinting against the light. Her right hand seemed to absently trace a small circle where it rested on her thigh.

"Obeying blindly."

#damian wayne #cassandra cain #batfam ficlet #ficblogging #tw: vomit #this one was way longer than i thought it was

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oh-great-authoress · 4 years

Text

Love Multiplied, Not Halved

When it comes to writing, it truly is either famine or feast. I gladly take advantage of the periods of feasting, because after that, I don’t write for months, if I’m lucky. Well, here is the third, and at the moment, final fic in my Peace of Love “series”.

This is Gingerrose pregnancy and baby fic with a slight soupçon of angst and a whole heaping helping of fluff.

Trigger warning for very oblique references to abortion and miscarriage. Read carefully, guys. Rating: T, I’d say. Enjoy! Rose had been told by Doctor Kalonia when she and Paige had joined the Resistance that due to the pollution inflicted by the First Order on Hays Minor, she wouldn’t be able to have children. Rose didn’t know how to feel about that at first. She had always hoped that once everything was over, in better times, she would find the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and have a family of her own. In time though, she learned to accept… that, and paid no more attention to that detail. It was fine, and when she told the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with that fact, Armitage was perfectly alright with it. They had been happily married for almost three amazing years now, though, and Rose would be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined a boy with black hair and pale green eyes, or a girl with brown eyes and red-brown hair running around their little house. She could almost see her and Armitage teaching their child engineering and how to fix anything. She could see Aisling teaching them how to bake, like she taught Armitage. She could see Armitage teaching their child how to fish in the small, babbling stream that ran through their property. But with what she knew about her medical condition, she knew she would never be able to see those imaginings come to life, no matter how much she wished for it.

And then one day, Rose was roused from sleep by the unstoppable urge to throw up. She ran to the bathroom and managed to reach the toilet in time. In a matter of seconds, she felt her husband’s presence knelt behind her, his hand running up and down her back. “Sorry for waking you,” she muttered, knowing he was a light sleeper, and that he probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again after this. “It’s alright.” He pressed a cool hand against her forehead. “You’re not running a temperature, that’s good.” “It must be the seafood we had for dinner — I probably didn’t cook it well enough.” “Yes, perhaps. I’ll throw the leftovers in the rubbish just in case later.” Once her nausea passed, he bundled her into bed with some crackers and a cold glass of water, both of them sure that this was a mild stomach flu. But what they thought was a stomach virus that would pass in a few days didn’t pass at all. In fact, it only got worse. Armitage was… well, like a headless chicken, running here and there, going to the market practically every day to get various stomach remedies, plying her with glasses of cold water, crackers, and whatever newfound cure he had discovered that day. As much as she appreciated Armitage and his efforts for her, the constant nausea was starting to get on her nerves. After almost two weeks of this, Rose finally went to the town doctor, hoping that Dr. Ropero would have some answers. ———————————————————————————— “Mrs. Tico-Hux, I have some good news for you. The vomiting and nausea should stop soon, and you are a little over a month into your first pregnancy,” Dr. Ropero grinned. “What?” Rose breathed, not sure she had heard him correctly. “You’re pregnant, Mrs. Tico-Hux.” “I — I — How?” Dr. Ropero’s mouth twisted humorously. “Mrs. Tico-Hux, as a married woman —“ “No, no, I know how, but how? I was told years ago that I would never be able to get pregnant.” “Well, near as I can figure, having a healthy, balanced diet and breathing fresh, unpolluted air as well as having significantly lower stress levels has made your reproductive system recover to the point where you can have a child.” Rose gasped, a grin beginning to spread across her mouth. “I’m really pregnant?” He smiled, “Mrs. Tico-Hux, you could not possibly get any more pregnant.”

Rose was now very glad for Dr. Ropero’s insistence that Armie not come into the examination room due to there not being enough room for the three of them as she did not know how he would react to this news.

“Now, I’m going to give you some anti-emetics which should ease the nausea, as well as some mint extract capsules which should also help. I’d like you to come in for an examination every three weeks to a month so we can make sure you and your child are healthy.”

It happened so fast. Two pill bottles were pushed into her hand along with an appointment card, the date of which she abstractedly set, and before she knew it, she was in the waiting room. Upon seeing her, Armitage immediately stood and approached her, firing questions at her faster than she could reply to them.

“Armie. Armie, calm down,” she interrupted.

“I am calm,” he replied, the coiled tension visible throughout his body.

“I’m alright.”

“You are? What did Dr. Ropero say?”

This was it. What would she say? In a kneejerk reaction, the words that came out of her mouth were, “I’m alright. It’s just a little bug that should pass in a while. Dr. Ropero gave me some pills to help me.” Well. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

The tension visibly drained from his frame. “Oh. That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Rose lightly smiled. “It is good.”

————————————————————————————

Although it had seemed like a good decision at first, Rose was quickly regretting her decision not to tell Armie that very day. Sooner or later, she would have to tell him. This would eventually come out, literally. She was beginning to stress out, even though she knew it wouldn’t be good for their child.

Their child. It still felt so surreal. She was carrying within her a life, a child that was half her, half Armitage, the child she never thought she would have, the child she had dreamt of for so long.

She wished her mother and sister were still alive so that she would have someone to talk to about this. She was beginning to despair of having a confidant when it occurred to her. She still had someone who would understand.

It took some doing, but Rose managed to get up without waking her husband, which was a kriffing miracle. She crept to the downstairs workroom where they kept the subspace holocom system. She input the now familiar frequency and prayed that they would pick up.

Aisling’s concerned face and voice came up on the projector and through the speaker and Rose nearly sobbed in relief. “Rose, a stór, what’s wrong, it’s very late on Tareth, and you look so tired.”

“Oh, Aisling,” she began, before breaking into stifled tears.

“What’s wrong, mo leanbh?”

“I — I — you’re going to be a grandmother.”

Aisling’s jaw dropped and a look of complete joy came over her. “I’m — you’re pregnant, my dear?”

She could only nod in reply.

“I’m so happy for the two of you, this is wonderful!”

“It — it is, I’ve always wanted a child, but — but I haven’t —“

Realization dawned on her mother-in-law’s face. “You haven’t told Armitage.”

Rose numbly nodded her head.

“I — I don’t know how he’ll react; I know he’s traumatized by his own childhood and — oh, Aisling, I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh, child. I wish I was there right now so I could hug you.”

“I wish you were here too. I feel so alone!”

A peculiar look came over Aisling’s face. “You’re not alone, Rose. As long as you have me and Armitage, you’ll never be alone. We love you, and we’ll always be there for you. I should go.”

Rose was about to protest when Aisling leaned in and whispered, “Look behind you,” before sending a last, encouraging smile, and ending the connection.

Rose froze, knowing what — who was behind her, but not wanting it to be true. This was not how she wanted this to go.

“You’re pregnant, Rose?” He apprehensively said.

Slowly, Rose turned in her chair, seeing the sleep rumpled, but alert form of her husband in the workroom doorway. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, willing something, anything, to come out of her mouth. Finally, she managed a quiet, “Yes.”

He measuredly walked up to her, and sat down on the chair beside her, taking her hands in his. “Rose. I’m so sorry. I understand if… if you don’t want —“

Rose cut him off, horrified. “No! No, Armie. I want this child, our child. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“The doctor’s visit. You knew then.”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry for lying to you. I’m so sorry.”

He worked his jaw briefly, a pensive look on his face. “The old parts of me want desperately to be mad at you, but it wouldn’t solve anything at all, for one thing, and… now, I could never be mad at you. So… it’s alright, mo ghrá. You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. I’m sorry that you felt scared to tell me, and that my traumas made you feel like you had to go through this alone. You won’t be alone — you’re not alone.”

“Oh, Armitage!” She said, before rushing into his arms.

————————————————————————————

Rose was now nearly five months into her pregnancy at which point the morning sickness had thankfully passed a couple of months back, and according to Dr. Ropero, their child was developing healthily, and that it was likely going to be a smooth birthing process. One thing Rose had noticed though, was this odd distance that Armie was displaying. It was not a physical one, oh no. God forbid that she went out of his sight for two seconds. It was an emotional one, when it came to him bonding with the baby. At first she thought that he was just concerned about what could happen in her first trimester, but even after that milestone had passed, he was still the same. She didn’t know what to do, she was getting frustrated, and it was beginning to show.

It was a cool night on Tareth when Rose awakened, not knowing why. Soon, she realized something wasn’t quite right with the bed. She turned over to see Armie’s side of the bed empty. She glanced at the chronometer on her nightstand. 0200 hours. She sighed, pulling herself up. This was far too early for him to be up. She would have to drag him to bed, it seemed. Fortunately, she was experienced at that.

She checked the upstairs workroom, but found it empty. Huh. Going down, she checked the sitting room and the kitchen but found them empty as well. Finally, she went in the direction of the downstairs workroom, but hesitated when she heard voices. Pressing her back to the wall, she edged towards the half opened door.

“It’s far too late for you to be up, Armitage,” came Aisling’s concerned voice through the holocom.

“I know, Mother,” was his tired reply, his voice edging towards an Arkanisian accent like it always did whenever he spoke with his mother. “I — I need to talk with you.”

“What’s going on, mo leanbh?”

“I’m worried.”

“Is something wrong with Rose?”

“No, no, she’s perfectly alright. It’s me that’s the problem.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, son.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Be a good father. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to be like — like —“

“Like Brendol.”

“I don’t feel ready. I’m afraid of everything. And how do I even begin to tell my child that their father is a criminal, a murderer?”

“I want you to listen to me, and listen to me well, Armitage Hux.” Aisling’s voice was stern. “You will be an amazing father for the very reasons you think you will be a horrible one. The very fact that you’re questioning yourself is exactly why you will not be like your father. And in regards to your not feeling ready? No one does. I knew I didn’t feel ready to be a mother when I found out I was carrying you. I was afraid too. I was afraid I would bollocks everything up. I thought I was going to be horrible.”

“You were a wonderful mother. The best.”

Aisling didn’t say anything in reply to that. After a beat, she continued, “And you’ll tell your child about your past when they’re old enough to understand. My grandchild is half Rose, so if they’re anything like her, they’ll forgive you, my dear.”

Armitage sounded so vulnerable and almost young when he replied, “You’re sure, Mother?”

“I know they will.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep, you’ll need all of it you can get for the next eighteen years.”

“I will, Mother.”

“Is aoibhinn liom tú, mo leanbh.”

“Is aoibhinn liom tú, Máthair.”

The beep that signaled the end of the connection sounded through the room. Then, to Rose’s surprise came, “I know you’re there.”

Rose stepped into the room, aware the roles were reversed from months ago.

“I’m sorry,” he continued.

“For what?”

“I know I’ve been distant and —“

“I’m sorry, Armitage. I have to admit that I was getting a little frustrated with you. I didn’t think that you could be feeling overwhelmed, inequipped, and unprepared, you seemed so confident — I didn’t think, and I’m sorry. If it‘s any comfort, I’m a little freaked out too at the thought of being a mother.”

“You? You’ll be amazing — the best.”

“You just said your mother was the best.”

He considered this for a moment. “I — er —“

“Don’t short circuit your brain, honey, if I turn out to be as good as your mother, I’ll take it as a win,” she smirked. “And your mother’s right. You’ll be a great father.”

“I will?”

“Yeah. And I’m gonna give you a troubleshooting guide, so to speak, so you feel better. When you’re stuck as to what to do, ask yourself: “What would Brendol do?” Then do exactly the opposite.”

“That’s good advice,” he said, a watery grin on his face.

“Of course it is. It’s your wife’s advice. Now, my next piece of advice is, come to bed. Your mother’s right, if this child is anything like us, we’ll need all the sleep we can get.”

The couple lay down in bed and all was silent for two minutes until Armitage whispered, “Do you think they’ll forgive me when I tell them what I was?”

Rose reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Of course they will. They’ll be the best of us.”

————————————————————————————

After that, Armitage was much more open about his fears and insecurities, which only served to strengthen the relationship of the parents-to-be, and all too soon, Rose went into labor.

“I’m going to kriffing kill you, Armitage, you’ll never touch me again!” Rose screamed as she clutched his hand from her contractions.

“Of course, my dear, if that’s what you wish,” he calmly replied, ignoring the grinding of his bones as she held his hand.

“Almost there, Rose, just one more push!” Dr. Ropero exclaimed.

“You said that ten pushes ago!”

Dr. Ropero replied, “This is it, just one more, I promise.”

Rose gasped, lying back on the pillows trying to catch her breath, her energy spent. “I — I don’t know if I can do this, Armie, I can’t —“

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice taking on the stern authority he used as the General. “You can, and you will. Because even when it all seems hopeless, you still keep fighting. Have you forgotten what happened on the Supremacy? I swear, you left a scar. It’s here somewhere on this hand you’re holding. You will fight, Rose Tico-Hux, and you know why? Because you’re a Rebel, and Rebels don’t give up. Now fight!”

Rose inhaled, and bore down, shouting.

“Yes, yes, just a little more, Rose, that’s it,” Dr. Ropero encouraged.

With a final scream, their child came wailing into the world. “You have a daughter!” Dr. Ropero joyfully announced.

“A daughter?” Rose whispered, while Armitage watched, stunned, as their now-clean child was soon handed to the new mother. “She’s so beautiful,” she murmured almost reverently, caressing the red-brown fluff on their daughter’s head. “What should we name her?” Rose asked, looking up at her awe-struck husband.

“How does Thanya Paige sound?”

Rose gasped, saying, “Are you sure?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life, other than loving you.”

————————————————————————————

Aisling came into the room after Dr. Ropero and his nurse left the house, having arrived on Tareth a week ago, not wanting to miss her grandchild’s birth. “How are we doing,” she grinned, treading softly.

“Wonderful,” Rose grinned, “would you like to hold your granddaughter?”

“Oh, can I?”

“Of course.”

“What’s her name?”

“Thanya Paige, after my mother and sister.” 

“That’s beautiful, my dear. Oh,” Aisling exclaimed, as Thanya was placed in her arms, “She’s a beautiful child!“

All through this, Armitage was silent, wondering how all this was possible. Just when he thought he couldn’t love anymore, he went and proved himself wrong. This day was yet more evidence of this. His love had multiplied, not halved, and he had a feeling this was only the beginning.

————————————————————————————

“And now you know the whole story, Than. I hope you can forgive me.” Armitage had finished relating the story of his life before Rose to his fourteen year old daughter. He was bracing himself for rejection and so much worse.

The lengthy silence was torture. Thanya was looking out towards the distant hills, a blank look on her face. He sighed, moving to stand from where they were sitting on the ground, his old bones protesting the motion, to give his daughter some space, when her hand shot out, halting his movements. He turned to her.

“You did horrible, terrible things, Dad. There’s no denying it. But you’re different now. You’re sorry, sorry for all the harm you caused. That’s what counts, and that you live the rest of your life as a good person. Which you have. You’ve been an amazing husband to Mom, and a really, really great dad. But if it makes you feel better, I forgive you, Dad.” And with that, she hugged him.

Tears springing to his eyes, he returned his daughter’s embrace. He was right, all those years ago. His love had multiplied yet again.

The End.

Arkanish (Irish) Glossary

A Stór: my treasure (pronounced uh STORE) [usually used to express affectionate friendship, especially for parent and children relationships.]

Mo leanbh: (pronounced muh LAN-uv) [literally means “my child.” Affectionate term of endearment.]

Is aoibhinn liom tú: (pronounced iss even lum too) [literally translates to “you delight me”, but is an affectionate way of saying “I love you”.]

Máthair: (pronounced mahTHer) [means Mother]

Again, google translate and various websites helped me here, so if this wrong, Irish speaking people, please, please do not hesitate to correct me.

#star wars #star wars au #star wars au fic #gingerrose #gingerrose fic #general hux #armitage hux #rose tico #The Peace of Love #i cant stop writing these two

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