#Love Is Just What The Doctor Ordered -His Special Treatments Keep Me Up All Night! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollyhomburg · 2 years

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Before I Leave you (Pt.25)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You hate hospitals, but the pack can’t ignore the glaring issue of your health any longer.

Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, hospitals, Anorexia, discussions of eating disorders and inpatient treatment, dissociative episodes, depersonalization, hurt/comfort, discussions of sexual abuse, non-graphic discussion of past rape, implied vaginal scaring, descriptions of physical abuse and emotional abuse, non-verbal characters, Trans characters, discussions of trauma and transness,

W/c: 11.0k

A/n: Please check the tags for this chapter, there is a whole boatload of triggering content, i’m not going to lie- this is a hard to read chapter.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

You experience the morning of the doctor's appointment like a supercut. A collection of moments stitched together with disjointed thoughts and feelings sometimes out of order.

Your body feels too oversaturated with panic for you to stay present entirely. Blink and you’re in the car. Blink and you’re gone- not even real- hurtling down the highway towards the city where people grow thick and suburban lawns grow small.

Funny, you didn’t think you were afraid until you woke up, heart pounding and words gone.

It feels like stepping back in time a little, waking up non-verbal with only Yoongi in your bed- last night he needed to curl up with just you after the chaos of the day before. And you exchanged pretty words like "if you need me to put my foot down with Namjoon I will" and sweet reassurances like "of course they love you sweetheart- they love you just as I do" before you fell asleep alone.

Now the loneliness is more of a threat than a comfort and all of yesterday’s events are turned insignificant under the weight of leaving the house. You want the pack and want them close, luckily they’re there, lingering in the doorway, the sounds of them present soothing the frayed edges of your mind.

The room is still dark, the light isn’t fighting to get in like most mornings when you wake well into the day. Yoongi’s phone clock buzzes with the alarm that he set just for you. 6:10 am. He let you sleep for an extra ten minutes. You haven’t been up this early in months.

Agoraphobia isn't something you like to think about often, but the windows hover threateningly. Thin portholes keeping the ocean out, super blue pigment just on the fringe of your vision, tempting and threatening with its depth of what might bet there.

You don’t have much clothes left that aren’t strictly pajamas or a loungewear. After brushing your teeth you find that Jin’s set out a pair of leggings on the bed, a suitable shirt of Yoongi’s gets pulled over your head, Jin’s hands lingering over your skin, no good morning kisses or good morning words.

You make a small noise in the back of your throat, unable to produce anything else, Jin’s the one to answer your question- he’s learned your special language by now. “Namjoon’s already at the hospital darling, we’ll meet up with him when we get there.”

Jin watches you tame your hair into something manageable tensely as Tae and Jimin ask for the millionth time if you want more company to the hospital- they can take off work- it’s no trouble.

They'll even get Hobi up to come if that's what will make it easier. You dismiss all of them because you're not sure that anything can make it better, shaking your head and pushing at Minnie’s hands. You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, "It's just a check-up," you say, words barely a whisper. Only it feels like anything but. It’s all you can muster.

Jungkook doesn’t take your pitiful attempts at dissolving the tension, already ready by the door, Feet tapping anxiously in his slides. “I moved around my first client hyung, I promise it's fine. You know I understand the food stuff better than any of you.” You flinch with the way he says it so casually- food stuff.

The mist still covers the treetops like a thin sheet when they march you out to the car. It’s summer, but you still take Yoongi’s jacket, Needing his scent as close as possible. He holds your hand in the car on the way there. Knuckles going white.

“Are you alright?” Jin asks in the front seat, parked at a stoplight. How did you already get into the center of the city? How long have you been driving, 10 minutes or 30? The buildings stretch taller than you can see out the window of Jin’s car. He has to ask you twice to get you to answer, Yoongi watches patiently and Jungkook fidgets with the heating in the front seat.

“Yeah,” not a single one of them believes you.

You’ve always wondered what Namjoon’s hospital looks like, but you barely look up as you've walked through the door, Jin on one side and Yoongi on the other. You tense in the doorway, stopping and not of your own accord. A mental block that will let you step no further at the wall of scent that hits you. You barely register Yoongi and Jin’s alarmed faces. stopping a few paces from you, anxiously watching,

Yoongi’s not sure why for a second he expects you to bolt out the door, but then you just run in the opposite direction- into the hospital and not out of it.

Your pack alpha stands at the front desk and your tunnel vision narrows down to him. He’s checking in like he does every morning, Talking to the lady at the front desk before she says something and he turns and sees you, his whole face lighting up when he spots the four of you and you hurtling towards him.

You fall into him and Namjoon catches you around your waist. The secretary at the front smiles at Jin and Yoongi, their drawn faces. Obviously recognizing Namjoon’s pack from the photos in his wallet that he’d proudly shown probably, chest tight with pride, years ago and now. You don't know yet that Namjoon's the biggest gossip and the biggest bragger when it comes to his pack (and that he’s also considered a mini sope opera by his coworkers too- the hot doctor in neurology the hospitals mini grey’s anatomy).

They didn't hear her question just before you spotted him; “Is that your new packmate?” and Namjoon grinning, tipping his head to the side and going shy “yeah she is.”

You hold Namjoon around his waist, hiding in the front of his button-down shirt, pulse thundering, he's already put on scent blockers, there is none of your alphas usual coffee to smooth your fried nerves, you want to whine, even though you have an audience.

Yesterday, you wouldn’t have felt confident enough to call Namjoon your pack alpha, but now when you need him, your panicked brain clings to it.

There is nothing but that scent, clinging to everything like soot “What’s that- is it-” your brain works in overdrive, trying to tease through the scent that coats the floors and walls. The way it has your hair standing on end, nose stinging, your instincts screaming at you to run away- not safe- dangerous.

“Death” Namjoon smiles sadly, running his hands up and down your back. “Is it bad if I say that you get used to it after a while?”

Scent blockers don't just keep your scent from getting on everything, they also prevent you from smelling like anything else. Anything you might touch, anything you might have close contact with. It’s the only thing that keeps Namjoon from tracking the scent of death back home.

The hospital is made of glass and smooth white walls, the smell of death- sour and rancid underneath a layer of antiseptic and ammonia wipes. Overhead fluorescent lights that buzz menacingly like a cloud of wasps or bugs about to swoop.

Trust the maternity ward to be adjacent to gynecology, chimes overhead announce a new birth every few minutes. Namjoon tells you- but you barely hear it over the general clamor of the hospital waking up. First rounds, first blood tests, code sounds that come over the speakers. Everything feels too loud.

Dr. Pearl is a kind woman. Long hair in a French braid laid delicately over her shoulder, she smells like scent blockers just like Namjoon. You know she’s an omega but she hardly looks it, broad shoulders made broader by a hospital coat. She greets you before she greets any of the others leaning down to your level. You nod dumbly when she asks if you’re okay if you’re ready to begin.

You’re not, but it hardly matters.

The actual appointment is a lot of back and forth, The crackle of wax paper and asking you to take off your clothes, Yoongi helping you. Jin and namjoon excuse themselves to give you your privacy. Jungkook almost wants to stay but Jin tugs him along, he’s even got a hand on the back of Namjoon’s neck. Take a deep breath for me Mrs. Min, the cold press of a stethoscope on your back.

If Dr. Pearl knows Namjoon’s pack by name or face she says nothing, if they exchange any words at all you don’t remember them.

She takes your height and weight, you keep your head turned so that you don't have to see the number on the scale. "Please don't say it out loud." Dr. Pearl presses her lips into a thin line but doesn't say anything.

“Breathe baby,” Yoongi says and you’re gasping. A seat with stirrups sits threateningly. Yoongi’s hands in yours is sweaty. Dr. Pearl smiling at you. “Dr. Joon told me that you’ve never had a gynecology check-up before, and your partner...”

"Yoongi- Min Yoongi” his voice is soft, so soft and he’s right there. For a second you want to correct her and say that he’s your mate, but with a look from him, melting warm eyes as chocolaty as his scent, the words fade from your mouth.

“Mr. Min filled out your prior information. I’m going to tell you everything before I do it okay? Just so that it’s not scary.”

“Scary,” you echo, not really aware. It’s the last word that you’ll say to her for the rest of the physical appointment. Nods, you can manage to nod or shake your head when she asks you questions. Have you ever had any pain during sex before? Any unplanned pregnancies? Any unusual bleeding?

You don’t remember the appointment after that, a pressure and a probing, the cold press of the ultrasound machine. Yoongi’s hands wiping the gel up and cupping your hip. Yoongi remains focused on your face, looking for the signs of discomfort and trying not to cry at every blank blink you have. You’re gone, Yoongi kisses your forehead, “it’s okay sunshine I'm here.” You don’t respond, but he didn’t expect you to.

The next time you’re aware of what's happening Jin is next to you and you're wearing your clothes again. His tense scent spilling over you, whipped cream curdling, smelling strange. Jin doesn't smell so upset so often, but maybe that's just because usually he can control his scent, not right now, not with you staring off into space like that.

Your ears ring, and then suddenly you can hear again, "-scaring wasn’t minimal like we hoped, but even that shouldn't cause any serious issues down the line. And given her history I’m not surprised we found that. But there are a few other things that we need to talk about, That has me concerned."

“Scaring?” your pack-mates blink down at you, surprised you managed to come back so quickly. Dr. Pearl is kind, her smile gentle, you decide that you like her.

“Yes, Mrs. Min” you blink. And Yoongi’s fingers tighten around yours. Namjoon leans forward, his shoulder coming Infront of you protectively. He breathes in slowly, breath hitching. You turn your face and bury your nose in his shoulder. It’s an oddly pupish gesture and you’re not sure why you do it, especially because you can't smell him.

“What else?” it’s you who asks, not Namjoon, and not Jin, wiping at his eyes. Jungkook is frozen in the farthest seat, whatever restlessness he had burned out of him by the circumstances.

“There wasn’t anything on your ultrasound or your physical exam that indicated a reason for your skipped heats. But-” Dr. Pearl exhales gradually, putting on the face she’s probably uses to deliver bad news before, one part pity and another part steal resolve. “You're in the lowest percentile for your weight, we don’t see cases like this except for in severe malnutrition. I'm honestly surprised you didn't come in earlier for broken bones- or another issue, especially since Mr. Min said you’ve been this weight for as long as he’s known you. It's incredibly likely that that's what’s causing your stopped cycle.

“We can try hormones to get you closer to healthy levels once we get the results from your blood tests and the slick swabs back, but it's unlikely that it will change anything unless we get your body fat percentage up to normal levels.”

Body fat percentage, gaining weight, that’s all the same words and the same language. Your heart is pounding thundering so bad you think you might pass out. None of that startles you, not the idea that you’re fragile, that your skeleton could shatter- you’re not afraid of that.

But gaining weight? You’re terrified.

Things have only just started to be good with the pack, you’re only just starting to be loved.

"But I'm- I'm perfectly fine. I'm not like, unhealthy or anything." Jungkook opens his mouth but Jin tugs at his sleeve. The doctor doesn't sigh, she just holds your gaze like there's something she doesn't want to say. After a moment, she turns to Namjoon.

"Dr. Kim, Mr. min, can we have a word outside?" Jin tenses like he might stand, but then stays put after scooting over and taking Yoongi’s seat next to you. You need someone to sit with you while this is happening and Jungkook looks like he's about ready to bounce out of the room, He follows Namjoon and Yoongi, Dr. Pearl looks like she wants to interject, but Jungkook isn’t going anywhere.

You can only see her, talking quickly and with her hands, animated except for the silence. The door takes care of most of the noise but you can tell she's yelling at them. She’s a head shorter than them but Yoongi winces, putting his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder when the alpha doesn't back down.

But inside, the room is silent, you can’t keep your eyes away from the little window in the door. Overhead, the bell chimes, another baby born into this world.

“While they talk, there's something I wanted to ask you about,” you almost flinch when Jin speaks, not expecting it. His scent is just its usual milky goodness, you lean into it a little, needing something to soothe your nose.

Jin thinks of all the details, every little detail and he even got a new brochure, not the one that he and Namjoon had spent hours poring over, talking about doctors and favors until the edge had gotten torn. Your eyes are vacant when you look at him, vacant, but barely processing his words. It will be easier if you just see it.

He hands it over, the heading at the top in neat green writing, ‘Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery’ and you feel like you’re sinking through the floor, down through the maternity ward, down to the emergency room where surely there is someone else dying more than you, down and down.

Far away Jin’s voice echoes, “It’s not like- a courting present. Or at least it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it too especially because it comes from me but I thought you might want another option than just scar cream and time for the marks on your back.”

You hold the brochure tight in your fist, looking at the crisp little pictures of before and after results. Information about recovery times and length of procedure written out in neat little charts. Price estimates and the estimated co-pay with insurance. Your stomach is knit in knots, a whole fucking sweater.

Your voice is quiet, choked when you force yourself to speak, "You- you think they're ugly? Is that why? Do you want me to get them removed so that you don't have to see them?"

"No sweetheart no" Seokjin is frantic with the way he cups your cheeks so suddenly, searching for you in your far away eyes but finding little trace of the woman he loves there. "We could never think that. You're beautiful to us, inside and out regardless of the scars we just thought-"

Liar- The words itch at your skin, liar, a small part of you whispers, to think that you are beautiful to them can be nothing more than a lie. He can see you spiraling, Jin cuddles closer to you practically sitting in your seat, taking both of your hands in between his. "We don't care what you do or don't do with your body- unless it's like dangerous like the not eating thing- we just thought- you might not want a reminder of it, that it’s important to me that you at least have the option.”

“what do you mean the not eating thing? I eat enough, you’ve seen me eat enough-” your words are just an edge past frantic, like your begging jin to belive the lies.

The lie makes Jin’s eyes sting, “stop it- just stop it okay? we know whats been happening, we all know that you don’t eat, and we’re not mad at you okay- none of us are angry. But- I- we don’t want you to hurt anymore sunshine. and maybe healing your body, thats a start you know? the marks too.”

Jin doesn’t mention anything about your mating mark, there are no plastic surgery options for them- but one day, maybe there will be. (He doesn’t know yet that it’s Yoongi’s touch too that he’d be removing, so you can’t blame jin for his internal monologue)

I want to erase every mark he ever left on you, every little hint of hurt I want to heal, I want you to be so happy that you forget he ever hurt you, I want to make you whole again in every way that I can, even this one.

You shake your head, pulling your hands out of Jin’s grasp- how could you forget- this isn’t just something that you can erase with cleaver stitching or doctor's appointments.

Your brain is too overwhelmed you need time to think about it. Later you'll crane your neck to better look at them, fingers skimming over them, you can feel the ridges clearer than you can see them. The jagged edge near the end when he'd gone deep and sloppy.

Your shoulders crumple, curling inward like you can hide your body from him, "I want to talk to Yoongi about it. I want to go home." You shove the brochure deep within your pocket and keep your hands there so that Jin can't try and hold them again.

You want Yoongi. You want to be home and in your nest. This is too much for you to handle. Jin shouldn't have brought it up should have waited to ask on a different day.

He sighs sadly and it makes your whole body sting. Pins and needles in every breath, is he angry at you, is he upset that you didn’t react positively? should you have said yes just to make him happy? “I’m sorry, I know sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

When they come back in, she brandishes a separate brochure in your direction, but Yoongi intercepts it, taking it and crumpling it in his fist with a crunch. “She doesn't need a program; we can help her well enough.”

Dr. Pearl shakes her head angrily. “It’s my professional opinion that she seek professional psychological and medical counseling.” She glares in Namjoon’s direction, your alpha holds his own. “That's all you asked for, my professional opinion Dr. Kim. I’ll schedule you for once-monthly follow-up appointments. But I have other patients to see, with packmates that will actually agree with my plan of care.”

“Thank you” Namjoon’s voice is absent of its usual warmth. He stands in between you and her- like she’s going to try and take you away.

Dr. Pearl pauses in the door, sighing angrily. “The uterus is not a brain Dr. Kim.”

She leaves the door open for you to exit. And the pack gets ready to leave, “Don’t we have to do the blood tests?” you still sound like you’re speaking through water.

Jin smiles down at you sadly, Jungkook looks startled. “We already did that sweetheart.”

There is a yellow band-aid with red hearts on your inner arm, you’re sore, yet you barely register the ache there distant from your body and the pain. Two times- you remember then- they had to try and find a vein two times to get enough blood. Something about you being really dehydrated. “Oh.”

Yoongi pulls his sweatshirt more firmly around your shoulders, doing up the zipper. You don’t even realize you’re shivering. Yoongi pulls you in, tugging you under his arms. “I’m taking her home,” Yoongi says it like an accusation, though no one challenges him.

Namjoon's working today, and though he had the morning off he won't be leaving with the four of you. Yoongi sense something deeper to the tense quiet between you and Jin but doesn't ask. Namjoon kisses your forehead in goodbye at the front of the hospital before heading back inside.

Jungkook fidgets in the front seat, long legs jumping. He meets your eyes in the mirror a few times before he gets the courage to say what he wants. Excitement and hope coat every word like poison. "Do you want to go get a smoothy before we head home? My favorite place is a few minutes from here." Just around the corner from their old apartment too. Liquid and calories, sugar, thats good for you right now. Nothing too heavy.

You struggle with your words for a second, struggle, trying to speak through the peanut butter toffee feeling, before Yoongi replies for you with a sad sigh, "I think we should just go home. It's been a rough morning."

“It’s just a smoothy,” Jungkook says. Still hopeful, still pushing because he doesn't know what else to do seeing as not pushing hasn't been working at all.

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “You can get one if you want but I don’t want one.”

“Are you sure, they have a lot of different flavors, even fruit, and healthy stuff- they've got-”

“I'm sure.”

Jungkook looks crushed, and it kinda pisses you off, you have no right to be angry but you're nearly at your limit. “But-”

You look up at him, clarity in your eyes that hasn’t been there since last night blinking away frustrated tears, “I don’t need a smoothy, I need to go the fuck home.”

Jungkook turns around to look at you, teeth digging into his lower lip, “but can you- eat something- please just-” if there was one thing that had really sunk into Jungkook after today- one thing that really stuck- it’s that they’ve been failing you as a pack by letting you sweep this under the rug by not addressing this. Jin’s crying softly in the front seat because Jungkook’s the only one brave enough to talk you into this.

But you’re sick, actually sick, and that’s never been more apparent than today. Jungkook’s never been in the position of loving someone who’s sick before, always used to being on your side of things, and it sucks- it really fucking sucks.

“I’m good, Kookie. I'm sorry but-”

Jin’s knuckles are white on the stearing wheel, car still not started even though you could be on your way home already “darling-.”

“I’m too tired to fight today.”

Jungkook unclicks his seatbelt and wastes not a second more, climbing over the center console and muscling himself in between you and Yoongi like a large dog that hasn't yet figured out he's not lap-sized. Wrapping himself around you, warm and hard and so strong he maneuvers you into his lap. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, a little wetness, tears that he didn’t mean to shed finding a home in your collar bones.

Hearing that doctor yell at Joon today- for not checking you into an inpatient program and not getting you help and seeing the way you disappeared in the blink of an eye; it was too much for them. Too much for Jungkook to bear, that you’d been hurting for so long and that they’d done virtually nothing to help ease those pains. Your missed heat is only the tip of the iceberg. They’re failures, all of them.

Loving someone is accepting that they will hurt you one day. It's an omission and a truth, everyone who loves you will hurt you- intentionally or otherwise.

You look down at him, blinking in surprise. “Please.” Jungkook doesn't ask for a lot. But this- this he will ask for. For all your crescendos all your melodies and murmurs of pain, you’d never thought it would end like this, that this would be the shift, the moment when your wounds start to clot and you stop actively bleeding.

looking down at Jungkook, sweet Jungkook, eyes tilted up at you swimming with tears. His addams apple bobs when he swallows, voice hushed and squeezed between little breaths like he’s trying to keep from truly crying.

“I know you can’t just get better, just because we ask, I know you can’t get better at the drop of a hat. But please, we’re not asking you to be perfect- we’re just asking for you to try.”

No, they’re not asking you to be perfect- they’re asking for the opposite of that. They don’t understand that when the scale had tipped a pound over what your husband had deemed ‘acceptable’ that he’d hit and pinched and hurt you. they don’t know you re-hear every harsh word of “you’re too fat to eat that” every night at dinner. The times your late husband had pinched an inch of fat at your waist and threatened to take a knife to it- They don’t understand that you need to be this way for your own safety- they don’t- they don’t-

Try- That's all they're asking you to do.

What would they say if you explained? Would they tell you you’d be beautiful even with a few extra inches around your waist? Would they lie and say that they want more of you- ounces and pounds and kilograms more than you’re willing to compromise. You’ve never been loved for who you are before- you can’t trust it- can’t leave it up to chance.

But Jinnie is crying, for some reason, it strikes you as strange, you haven’t ever seen him cry before and he doesn't often, shoulder-shaking hand clamped over his eyes like he can keep them in that way. Even Yoongi is crying when you turn and look at him.

“They’re scared, I’m scared,” he murmurs softly, reaching over to get a hand on your chin, fingers centimeters from your mating mark. “I'm scared I'm going to look up one day and you won’t be there.”

Jin nods, and so does Jungkook. That's the thing they're all most afraid of. How is it that months ago they didn't know you existed and now you can command such fear in them? jungkook holds you like he can keep you together with the cords of muscle that he's worked so hard to maintain.

It's then that you remember; the only time you’ve ever seen Jin cry like this was the first day you ever met him when he turned up at the door with Tae and Jimin and Jungkook. But he’s crying now, eyes and cheeks red when you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s crying like you might leave them, unintentionally or otherwise.

“Am I really that bad?”

"Yeah," Jungkook says, "you are, according to Dr. Pearl."

Jin swallows, “I think if you weren’t we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Fuck” You lean back, tipping your head back against the back seat of Jin’s car, staring at the ceiling, an ambulance buzzes in the adjacent lot, loud for a moment then fading like its going away on a call, red flashes in the corner of your vision then fades.

The pack is silent around you. “Fuck”

“Okay, fuck, fuck that- fuck you, fuck this. I want fucking strawberry and I’m staying in the car with Yoongi while you go in. Then will you fuck off about this?”

jungkook’s hair bobs when he knods and jin sags against the stearing wheel. Yoongi climbs into the front seat when Jungkook doesn't make any move to go back. Jungkook buckles you in and then himself, clutching your hand across the bench. Yoongi puts the stereo on when you're a mile down the road, and no one says a thing. They hide their smiles when they turn towards the window.

When you finally get home you beeline it inside, your whole-body trembling, anxiety itching up the edges of your vision with safety in sight. Jin and Yoongi can barely keep up though your mate holds your half-finished smoothy and his own oreo.

“Wait!- you forgot- shit”

You get inside and immediately pull yourself onto the couch, dumping out a nearby basket full of nesting blankets. Here is fine for an emergency nest. You don't want to taint your nest with the smell of death that clings to you, even when you shuck Yoongi's sweatshirt and leave it on the floor. It smells too much like you to be a comfort now. You couldn’t move another step if you wanted to. You know they’re looking at you when they come in, but you fall into a nesting frenzy.

“Fuck-“ Jimin comes rushing out of their bedroom, from cleaning or something else- you don’t have the mental strength to figure it out. “It was bad?” you make a muted whine and pull yourself into your little makeshift pile. Pulling one blanket and then a second over your shoulders before you tuck your head in and let the world disappear.

A hand touches your back- wider than Yoongi’s or Jimin’s but gentle in a way that you know- Tae. You wish you had some of her scent around you, that you were swathed in safe bundles of cinnamon- that you felt like cinnamon buns all gooey and sweet and warm but you are only cold. “Your spirit animal must be a turtle.”

You stick your head up out of your little bundle, glaring. Your face feels puffy. “Give me your sweatshirt.” Tae does, leaving her looking delicate and vulnerable in just a T-shirt standing there next to the couch. You bunch it up and keep it near your chest burying your face in it.

She looks like she wants to ask what happened- for the details, but she doesn’t. She Just keeps stroking your back until Yoongi comes, descending to grab the blanket bundle that is you and hauling you safely into his arms.

Before you can ask her to cuddle you a second body flops over the back of the couch. Jungkook does not make to get ready to go to the gym, he doesn’t do anything but wiggle, squirming his way around you and tossing the back cushion onto the floor to give you more room. He’s warm, his chest is warm when it presses up against your back. You crumple.

Your body and mind can’t sort through the emotions and sensations quick enough, not through the relief of finally- finally being somewhere safe. You know they’re talking. “-but your clients kookie.”

“Fuck my clients.” He hooks his head over your shoulder, hands around your waist, nuzzling in close. glorious and delicious contact that sends you spiriling down into omegaspace. you don’t need to talk, they’re not talking to you and you burrow into the front of Yoongi’s shirt. hiding your face and hiding away from the world.

“we’ve got you baby, just sleep, you’re safe here,” you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe.

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when you wake, only that Jungkook’s still curled around you, body limp and chest rising evenly. He must have gotten overheated at one point- His sweatshirt discarded near your head left for you to sleepily nuzzle into along with Tae's- because all omegas know that blankets are more important than clothes when it comes to nesting. Bare skin slightly feverish to the touch, but you’re used to it enough to recognize that it’s just that Koo runs a little warm.

Yoongi murmurs getting out from behind you, the reason why you woke. “Sorry sweetheart, I have to pee” but as far as cuddles go- it’s pretty normal. Normal, even though this morning wasn’t. Normal, even if you feel worn down and squeezed from all sides like a stuffed animal with it’s insides torn out leaving you floppy and limp.

Someone drew the blinds to keep the afternoon sun from shining into your and Jungkook's eyes. Did you really nap the whole day away?

Hunger gnaws at your belly sharp and distracting. You can’t ignore it anymore, now that you know the pack knows. They’re going to try and convince you to eat more than your comfortable with tonight. The smoothy won’t be the end of it. The longer you stay asleep the longer you can avoid it. You can hear Tae, Jimin, and Jin talking in the kitchen.

They haven’t spotted that you’re awake yet but Hobi does when he walks in from work. “Oh- hey,” he says, when he realizes you’re awake, not asleep like kookie. He sniffs at the air, his whole body tensing. “Are you angry?”

You sigh, and Hobi stiffens, you know what he’s expecting but it still takes you a second. Petting through Jungkook’s hair where he lies curled on your chest his weight pressing you into the cushions. Sleeping soundly even though you’re sure it must be hard with the way you’re talking right next to his ear. “No, just had a bad day.” Your voice cracks and Hobi winces.

“Oh, okay” but Hobi doesn't move, you tilt your chin up and it’s all you know how to do right now, tipping your head to the side, and showing your throat communicating without words that Hobi is okay, that your anger doesn’t have anything to do with him. You see Hobi’s whole body relax, satisfied primally even if his pulse still jumps at the scent of a displeased omega.

“Trauma is a fucking bitch.”

he snorts, setting his bag down, “yeah it is”

And by then Yoongi is moving to greet him in the door and Jin is asking if you’d like a cup of juice, hand moving to cup your cheek as your eyes fall back closed. But you don’t, even though your throat feels raw, you shake your head, and snuggle back down into Jungkook's embrace and go back to sleep.

The next time you wake your body is absent of Jungkook’s weight or Yoongi’s touch. You don’t know how he snuck away, but you’re not completely alone on the couch. Under the blankets it’s still warm- in the way you can never quite get on your own. Your body trying and failing to keep it’s self sustained even in summer.

The smells of dinner and the whole pack are a distant sensation coupled with their muted voices as they whisper and keep quiet. Your heart hurts when you realize that they must have been keeping their usual conversations to a minimum to let you sleep.

Namjoon is next to you, you can smell him before you open your eyes. His hand is in your hair, combing over it slightly. You nuzzle, searching for his hand until it finds your cheek. His scent blockers got washed off after his surgery, coffee with a hint of liquor comforting and familiar. When you finally open yours, his eyes swimming are with remorse and pity.

“I'm sorry.” It's a whisper, and he doesn't need to say what for.

You haven't had enough time to think through today, why it bothered you, and what you want to say to Namjoon. But the anger and fear still bubble up. Why is it that concern can feel more threatening than helpful? Why do you feel like an animal backed into a corner all the time? You let your chin fall onto the couch, all of the energy and fight warn out of you.

Fuck- you’d told Namjoon- you and Yoongi had both told him that what he was asking for was a lot. And from the little way his breath hitches you know he gets it now- it’s just a pity he didn’t take your word for it sooner.

It takes real effort for you to speak, your chest tight and words little more than a whisper, they carry in the quiet room. “Do you still think Yoongi’s fears aren’t valid Namjoon? Please- please don’t push me like that again.”

You are begging because you know you’ll let him push if he wants to, And that’s not fair to either of you. You don’t want to resent him like you do right now. Shrinking a little from his touch even slightly feels like denying yourself a good thing on principle.

He sighs, and you know what he’s saying is going to piss you off before he says it, so you stop him. Sitting up on your knees, teetering a little, dizzy when you move after lying down for so long. The blankets tucked around you aren’t just the ones that you dumped out earlier. Someone must have gotten the blankets from their nest room and piled their scents around you. Jin probably, fussing over you in your sleep.

“Do you want me to say that you treated me like he did? When you make decisions like that without taking my comfort into account? It’s funny- this whole thing got started because you were worried about my wellbeing, but I feel so much worse today than I did yesterday.” you can feel the ache down to your bones, you’re exhausted still, even though you slept, even though you ate. it runs deeper than any sleep or food or love can fix.

“Of course I care about your comfort- you’re- I” Namjoon plays with your hands, trying not to let your words sting. You’re angry- and rightfully so, he has no room to feel like a kicked puppy. “It would be easier to not treat you that way if we knew specifics, you know.”

You can’t argue with that. Falling silent.

Namjoon folds himself closer to you, resting his head on the edge of the couch. Somewhere along the line of your argument turned tense conversation the whole pack has stopped their conversation to listen in, but if either of you wanted this to be private you would have moved somewhere else to talk.

“I think I need to know, the specifics and the details so that I never trigger you again. I know it’s a lot to ask- especially after today- it doesn't even have to be right now just-” Namjoon rests his forehead against your knee.

I can't rely on Yoongi forever, I can't just be your alpha through him. It's not ego and it's not possessiveness it's just how I am and I'm sorry.

You have the entire pack's attention, any action in which their pack alpha would kneel commands it. You swallow, looking down at Namjoon and setting your palm over his head in the same way he just touched you. He leans into your hand, but it's a forced action- he’s purposefully acting like a puppy right now to gain your sympathy. "Eventually, I think I need to know. For all our sakes."

You sigh, standing up, Namjoon shoots to his feet helping you down from the couch. You stumble. Teetering into him and not pulling away when he catches you. Turning to the whole pack, who are sheepishly watching from the dining room table. Quickly averting their eyes when they’re caught staring.

Dumplings- they’re making dumplings, the different fillings and wrappers set out with plates and plates full of ones that are already wrapped and bowls half-full of filling. If you think back to when you were asleep you think you remember Yoongi cradling your head in his lap and Jin cooking up a bit of the filling for him to taste just to make sure the seasoning is right, not too spicy for Tae. The two youngest in the shower, giggling and making noise that had you smiling in your sleep.

There will be hundreds of them for dinner, shrimp filling and veggie too, with rice paper and the regular Hongkong style wrappers that Tae likes. Pork and beef filling seasoned tastefully with jiggly cubes of broth. Not all of them will be cooked tonight, a good portion of them will get steamed and frozen for soup later. (soup dumplings inside of soup- a dish that Jin will call ‘soupception’)

Yoongi and Jin are curled close at the table.Your mate gets up too, cleaning his fingers of corn starch. You look at the dumplings, quirking your head, Jimin shrugs, finishing his with a few simple pinches. Whoever taught him how to do that taught him well that he doesn’t even have to look down at his hands to make sure he does it right. “We all needed something to do with our hands while you slept.”

“Does anyone else want to hear it? I don’t want to have to say it more than once if I can help it.” Your voice is quiet, trembling. Your stomach swoops at the idea of having all of them hinging on your words, displeasure curdling like lemon in milk. You don’t want to do this even if you recognize that it is necessary. You know you have to but you don’t want to at all.

You’re not surprised that Hobi meets your gaze, shrugging. The distance as always lingers, but the meaning is clear, whatever you need to tell him you can tell in your own time. He already knows a little. Suddenly- the idea that Hobi knows just as much or more than the others strikes you.

You think back to your night, the two of you in that coffee shop. If it happens with Hobi it will be more organic- more equivalent. What is it that he said all those weeks ago? I’ll show you my wounds if you show me yours.

Jungkook and Jimin shoot up- so does Jin, fingers fumbling to cover the wrappers with a damp cloth so that they don’t dry out in the meantime. Hobi keeps folding his, Jin drops a kiss onto his head as he maneuvers around his chair.

But it’s Tae that hesitates, looking at you and biting her lip, “Wait.” The whole pack stills, waiting for their youngest alpha to speak. She only has eyes for you, eyes that open like flowers and bear all her fears, only to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to like- decide what you want to tell us and how we see it? You might see it different in a few years or a few months- that stuff, I know it’s heavy; what you’ve told me already is heavy. And you deserve to feel as light as you can with this.”

Tae’s own burdens feel as heavy as flower petals when she gets those stolen hours with you. You’ve held her most delicate moments and the most delicate parts of her, all of her deepest fears, and made them seem insignificant- breathless and heavenly in a way that the truth often isn't.

Tae doesn't have that with anyone else, and suddenly, it hits her that she wants to give you the same kind of understanding, to take things how you see them and not just how they happened. You’re shaking and Tae’s words are all jumbled like she can feel your quakes. For someone who spends her days surrounded by words, these aren’t coming outright.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’ve burdened our relationship with your trauma before you feel like we’re capable of understanding it and separating you from- wait that’s not right. I didn’t say that right- you’re not a burden please don’t think you are-” Tae stumbles over the edge of the carpet, and you catch her on her arms, shaking your head so quickly your hair flops, Tae tucks it behind your ear.

“No, I get it I-” you don’t want to admit it but Tae’s right. You wonder what book she read, what little novella on trauma she tore through in the library. There must have been more than one, did she spend her lunch breaks on you?

You’re not ready to be the final version of yourself yet, the same way you know that Tae isn’t ready to put words to what she feels. What would she think if she knew you used ‘she’ already within the safe confines of your own head? Even though Tae has never said anything about pronouns before, what would she do? Would it finally give her the strength to come out?

Just as the fact that the others know Tae only as a man keeps her from coming out, would the idea of them knowing your trauma prevent you from healing? If you can make them believe in some idealized unhurt version of you, will that make it easier to heal? Does ‘fake it until you make it’ also apply to trauma and healing and not just happiness?

See I’m not bleeding, see I’m not hurting. Maybe you’ll believe it if they do. But then again maybe fake it until you make it has gotten you here; starving yourself in a room full of food and aching lonely when love is only as far as your fingertips, pressed against Tae's sensitive inner arms.

Namjoon- Namjoon wants to know and he's safe, keeping you and Tae within arms reach, hands shooting out when you and Tae tetter like you might need his support. Backing off when it becomes clear you're both not going to tumble onto the carpet.

He's only ever treated you indelicately because you haven't shown him the true depth and shape of your wounds. He's only begging you for this because he knows he doesn't want to hurt you again. you can trust his intentions are good, always, that why you agreed to today in the first place.

Yoongi watches on his heart in his throat. Clearing his throat and diverting all of your attention to him.

“I feel like I've been waiting to intervene this whole time, I hate that feeling. I'm always fielding concerns and questions, and- it doesn't feel right. I'm not the only one who's meant to help you, the only one who wants to help you, it feels like I’m getting in the way.” He's trying his hardest to keep his voice steady, “you’re not a burden to me, you will never be a burden to me, sweetheart. But I think Namjoon’s right for once.”

Namjoon scoffs, but it's put upon “had to tack that on didn’t you.”

Today has been full of confessions. Yoongi looks at Namjoon like Namjoon is Atlas in the old myths. Can he trust Namjoon to hold you and hold you right? You are Yoongi’s whole world or maybe just the foundation of it, maybe the pack is the seven continents and you are the ocean between them.

Your eyes are filled with oceans of your mate's scent, entire submerged universes blooming with love when you look at him, look at him, and almost cry. “Yoongi I-”

“Someone else but me needs to be able to help you, sweetheart, if anything’s abundantly clear after today it’s that.” He can’t do it all, as much as he wants to. Jungkook makes a noise, tucking his face into Jimin’s shoulder.

It’s decided that it will be just you, Namjoon, and Yoongi only because he can fill in some of the blanks of your memory. You sit out on the porch, the sun is only just beginning to set when you settle in, Jimin brings you a sweatshirt that’s Tae’s size but smells like him (maybe he was a little grumpy about the fact that his scent wasn’t one that you’d asked for in your little nest pile earlier). It does the trick of making you relax even though your whole body has that twitchy feeling to it like you’re trying to keep in shivers, a puppet failing to move fluidly, all stings on display.

Jin too brings out a plate of snacks and some juice, You accept your glass this time. “I'm going to bring out some when the first batch is done, Jk’s already gonna break down how many calories are in each- will that make you feel better?” you sag into Jin’s arms, accepting his kiss on the forehead with a relieved exhale.

“Please Uhm- try to keep it under 600,” your hands are already shaking. “I think that's all I can handle today.”

Jin nods, understanding even though he had been hopeful you'd eat more than just that. All you’d promised is that you would try and at least you’re not outright refusing. Slow progress will be your friend in this, Jk’s already excitedly writing out food plans in the other room.

He’s good at this and his heart is in the right place even if he gets a little overzealous sometimes. “If we lie and say it’s only 200 instead of 400 then we can get her up to 800″ “We can’t lie bunny especially not now.”

“Let us know if you need a blanket, or if you need a break.” Things are not as awkward between you too as they could be, especially because of your conversation earlier. Your pulse jumps, when you think of the fact that you could have pushed him away today by rejecting his offer. You’re still not sure and you still need time to think but if Jin is upset with you or bothered, he doesn’t show it or smell like it.

He hesitates, almost like he wants to stay and hear what you have to say for yourself, but then he kisses your forehead and smiles, before moving on to do the same to Namjoon. The alpha reaches up to rest his hand on Jin's waist just briefly, then Jin buzzes away pressing a kiss to Yoongi's cheek too. Your mate acts all put upon but his eyes still follow Jin when leaves you sitting on the porch, shutting the door behind himself with a faint click.

It’s warm enough to linger out here now but just barely, you pull the sleeves of Jimin's sweatshirt over your fists. You make the mistake of looking at Namjoon who's looking at you like you’ve just stabbed him already, his pitying look something that overwhelms you in 5 seconds flat when you try to meet his gaze.

“Fuck Joon don’t look at me like that.”

“Sorry- would it help if I wasn't facing you?”

“Yeah actually.”

He sits on the steps, shoulders angled away from you and Yoongi sat on the couch, your legs pulled to your chest. This way you can pretend you’re not talking to him, just that you’re just narrating.

The yellow is just beginning to leave the rooftops when you start. Your voice is quiet at first, words stumbling over the parts you can’t remember well before you gain your momentum. Some of it is even stuff that Yoongi doesn't know- or at least hasn’t heard in months. But soon your words rush over one another, rain hitting concrete in waves, and you can’t spit the words fast enough.

The truth is that you can unmake a person as easily as you can take apart an old stuffed animal. Unravel their threads and yank the seams first, make them offer up the softest parts of themselves to hungry hands and let them foolishly hope they’re exchanging vulnerability for love. Set the rest on fire with angry kisses and backhanded compliments. Plastic can become napalm if you mix the right vitriol in. Just stuff the damaged bits back inside and the job is done for you.

Like stars, trauma burns from the inside out, the brighter the flame the faster the burn.

It's easy to gloss over the mafia bits, surprisingly.

“- After that he got so pissed, he almost crashed his car with me in it- as bad as it seems it didn’t even scare me. But the times I didn’t act scared only made him more upset."

"He did it slowly, told me one of my friend's boyfriends had complained about me in private, told him that she'd tried to kiss him and it's so clear to me now that he was lying. But it was so easy to believe everything he said back then. everyone else- he just told me they hated me and I believed him."

You can hear Guemjae's words, 'it's like you don't even see the real thing when you look in the mirror, are you really so delusional? No wonder why no one wants to be around you anymore with the crazy shit you spout, it would be entertaining if it wasn't so pathetic." other words, countless memories and echos of his voice that haunt you.

‘You’re prettier when you don’t speek’

"I stopped talking to other alphas and omegas after that, even in passing. Because I didn’t want to die just because he got angry and careless. Cutting out my friends made him less angry but after a few months with no one to talk to besides him I felt like I was going insane.”

"Yoongi's family, they're kinda like- really shitty" Yoongi snorts, "-sorry."

"No you're right, it's just weird to hear you say it."

"They're shitty, but I was so fucking lonely, I even enjoyed family dinners by the end of it just because at least I got to be around people."

"I only tried to leave once before Yoongi, and he beat me so bad I threw up and passed out, woke up in a puddle of my own vomit. After that, he made me set my social security card and passport on fire to prove I was still loyal to him. I remember my fingers were so bruised I couldn't hold the match properly. And every match I failed to light he like- lit it and put it out on my skin. i think it took me like- 10 matches because my right hand was like- so fucked." You couldn't find the marks on your wrists if you tried, the scars already healed over it’s been so long.

"We should really get that handled actually, you kinda need a license at least." Namjoon's silent, Yoongi's commentary needed so that he can at least take a breath.

Namjoon's hands remain tight on his knees. Fingers digging into his own skin to keep himself from turning around, getting up and going to you, scooping you up in his arms to keep you from going anywhere he can't go- anywhere he can't protect you.

“He would throw glasses just to make me flinch sometimes, and then blame me when he broke the expensive china.” Your finger hovering under the faint scar just under your jaw. “That’s what happened the first time Yoongi kissed me.”

“You never told me he’d done that before.”

“The morning I first went out with you he did the same,” your smile is a faint thing, because only memories of Yoongi could make you smile. “I ducked and didn’t let it get to me.”

“Jesus I almost forgot about that, what did I get Jin and Jungkook again, at that little shop?”

“I think you got Jin a necklace and Jungkook some hoops or something.”

“I wonder whatever happened to them.” they must have gotten left somewhere, along with the other things yoongi had in that little yellow cottage half way across the world. Namjoon’s mouth is dry, he still can’t get past the scar, he’s seen it before of course, noticed it but now it takes on a new meaning now that he knows where it came from. How are you and Yoongi reminiscing about it now? How do your voices sound so fond? Like you're describing a first date and not the months of you being tortured.

Namjoon almost loses his composure only once, he’s pretty good at being stone-faced. Years of keeping a level head during surgery serve their purpose. he can’t control his scent, you rub at your nose once or twice, like namjoon’s liquor scent of displeasure is getting to you.

“At night- he’d come home smelling like other omegas and by that point- I was just glad he didn’t feel like making me fuck him again, or shoving me into the pillows and making me bleed.”

“But that's- that’s-” Yoongi winces, and that's all the confirmation he needs. Namjoon knows what you went through; Your words yesterday (was it only yesterday that he confessed to you in the nest room? It seems months ago by now) take on a whole new meaning.

“Why would you want more with me when you already have access to me?” and the scarring, it was one thing to hear about it in clinical medical terms and another for you to talk about it what had caused it.

It's another thing to talk about being raped, to hear someone you love talk about it happening to them. Not with vagueness shrouding the bad stuff to spare Namjoon the discomfort, but the specifics of how much it had hurt and how often.

No wonder today left you feeling violated.

Namjoon's shame has no place here. Barely a day into courting and he already has so much to make up for.

What chills him most is the way that you say it so blankly, like it's such a part of you that you don't even realize what you're saying is horrific and violent, the stuff of nightmares. Though Namjoon is admittedly more prone to worrying that it will happen to someone he loves and not that it will happen to him, it's a bit of alpha privilege.

The more startling conclusion is that maybe it's not horrifying to you- maybe it's just your life, and that this has now happened to someone Namjoon loves, and he can do nothing more than bear the weight of it now.

“You say me not getting my heat is a bad thing, but fuck Joonie- I honestly don’t know what would have happened if I’d gotten pregnant. What he would have done, if I’d had pups with him- I’d never have gotten out.”

“-And then Yoongi came- and god, I was just so happy to have a friendship that he couldn’t manipulate or guilt. Not that he didn’t try but he couldn’t act bothered when it was him.”

“-So when you say, just eat- I can’t because it’s not that simple, because every time I hear that I don’t hear your voice- I hear his. I hear him telling me that I was a fat ass after I ate even a fifth of a cookie” you’re choking on your words, not crying, not yet, but it’s a near thing.

“Are you angry at us? for not understanding? for pushing you to eat, are you angry at jin.” because namjoon’s noticed the tenseness between the two of you. the way that jin’s hesitaded, any other day he would have stayed outside, but not today.

You tip your head back against the outdoor couch, you can’t see many stars, light pollution is a bitch. “No, because being angry isn’t the same thing as being frustrated.”

“You know- Hobi asked me if I was angry the second he walked in today. And I know he needed to know because angry omegas mean something different for him than it does for you. And it’s equivalent, I get it, he gets it. Food means something different to me than it does to you and the rest of the pack. So no, I’m not angry with any of you.”

“I told him I wasn’t angry, but that's not true- half of it is that I'm fucking pissed off and I don’t have a god damn outlet besides myself. So yeah- fuck. It’s hard to do the things that you think are easy, nothing is easy for me and it's frustrating. He turned me into my biggest enemy- yours too.”

As of right now, it feels impossible to reconcile that- your own inability to stop hurting- to stop the pain that you cause, even now when you feel dizzy and lightheaded and aching hungry, and you know they only want to help you stop feeling so bad. that they love you- that all of it just comes from love. it’s not any easier to try and get better, it feels like trying to put your hand on a hot plate- like fighting against your body.

Namjoon doesn't look at you, true to his word, he keeps his eyes on the vacant bird feeder until your voice stops, only then does he look to you with questions, specifics, and details that need clarification. He tries to keep his voice steady and keep from crying.

One question has him getting up to feel your ribs, trying to find the spot where you might have fractures that didn’t heal right. “Fuck- I would have gotten you to take an x-ray today if I knew.” But there will be time for that later.

Your shirt is half hiked up and Namjoon's hands on you aren't possessive or hungering after his own delights. You catch his hands, hesitating for a second before you bring them around to your back, pressing his palms to where you know the scars are.

He doesn't touch more than he's allowed, his thumb rubbing over the edge of the 'w' on ‘worthless’, he doesn’t look surprised.

"Jin told me. Are you mad that he did?"

"No- I never told him he couldn't tell anyone. Do they disgust you?"

Namjoon swallows back his emotions for the countless time tonight, he keeps his palm pressed flat to the small of your back. He doesn't turn you around to see them himself, afraid he might lose his thin composure if he does.

He cradles your hip in the same way he'd touched Jin before, letting your shirt fall and touching with careful strokes of his long fingers down your spine. shuffling closer just a bit, "None of what you've told me has made me disgusted with you."

Your ex-husband on the other hand is a different story. In another world, Namjoon would have been thinking other things, violent things that doctors definitely aren’t supposed to think- or good men. But there is no vengeance to be had anymore.

"He's dead isn't he?"

You snort. "Do you honestly think I'd be here right now if he was still alive?"

There's something that's not matching up, your mark isn't that of a person whose mate is dead. Namjoon has seen more than a few of those cases come into the hospital- all of the health consequences that come from it- being mated to a dead person is nearly always a death sentence. Namjoon shivers just thinking about those cases, the way those scans looked as if the brain was rotting from the inside out.

Though if Namjoon thinks back to it- it had looked a little like that when he'd first met you. like there was a mark below your skin and now you've healed over it somehow. It's hard to notice day-to-day changes but your mating mark is pink and utterly normal glinting at the hollow of your neck- if not a little messy like usual.

Messy

His thoughts hover on that word as he lets you talk. Namjoon lets you speak until your voice goes horse and he has half a mind to go get you another glass of juice. Yoongi's been mostly quiet, sitting and waiting and watching Namjoon’s face.

By the time you're done the cracked windows are spilling with the smells of sesame oil and steam. Jimin is by the door with three bowls balanced precariously when you come inside alone. Full of shrimp dumplings and dipping sauce that sloshes when he narrowly avoids you opening the door into him. Their edges are translucent and a little overcooked but granted Jin had other things on his mind than cooking for once, anxiously looking in the direction of the door every few minutes.

“Sorry.” Is the first thing he says cringing and suddenly clumsy, you take one of the bowls from him to avoid it spilling all over your slippers.

“What for?”

Jimin’s voice has a heavier quality to it, a low lilt that betrays his sincerity, his eyes telling.You’d know his eyes anywhere you think. Tattooed on another person, on a billboard, Jimin’s eyes are so distinct they might as well be his autograph.

“You know what for.” His voice is placating, you shrug. Expecting him to say something like 'I'm sorry for pushing' is similar to Namjoon’s line of thought but he hands his head instead. "I should have come today." I should have been there, I should have helped you.

"No, you'd probably have wanted to fight the doctor with the way she yelled at Joon" Jimin straightens, and true to your assumptions his scent shifts from vanilla to gunsmoke displeasure.

You let out an amused huff and take another bowl from him, leaving him with only one. “we’re coming in,” He makes to move around you but you don't let him, “give them a second, Namjoon needs to decompress.”

Decompress is a good word for it.

He’s sobbing, these little open-mouthed gasps that echo around your end of the street, too loud and too telling. Yoongi had gone to him after he’d broken, Namjoon’s soul is like an egg, milky white and sticky spilled all over the porch steps. He cries and cries and cries. Hands frantic when they scramble to grip Yoongi’s shoulders.

Broken words barely understandable through the sobs, “I need to- hold her- I need to- she’s not safe she’s-” his instincts speak more than his heart or brain, the desire to keep you safe and whole taking over. He’s more alpha than man as Yoongi holds him. This isn’t the first time Yoongi’s held Namjoon as he cried or dealt with a sudden wave of alpha instincts in response to extreme emotions.

“You can’t Joonie, you know you can’t right now she needs space after that, just hold me for a minute okay?” Yoongi is surprisingly strong and he nearly pulls the alpha into his lap, Namjoon is so so big, but he lets himself be cradled, thoughts spiraling.

He needs Yoongi's scent, needs the beta to steady him, Namjoon presses his nose to Yoongi’s scent gland and takes a deep shuddering breath.

And it clicks.

Your bond is never stronger than when you talk about the foundation of it, Maybe that’s why he smells so strongly of you. Why it suddenly makes sense, the second to last piece of the puzzle.

Messy, because your abuser wasn't the only one who bit you. Your ex-husband isn't your only mate.

Mates, a pair of them, living under Namjoon's care and he didn't know. It seems obvious now, your closeness, why Yoongi seemed to understand you on a level that was unusual for the time you've known him.

But Namjoon doesn’t say anything, because he can’t- how could he even begin to fathom it. After hearing your story, how broken you’d been until Yoongi had taken every crack and tried to repair it with gold and duck tape (And any other material he could find that would make you stick together, including his own soul). He wouldn't dare say anything now. Namjoon inhales greedy lungfuls of your scent, yours and Yoongi’s scent, Coming from just the beta.

Namjoon knows and doesn't say a fucking word.

The porch is cold, Namjoon’s still in just a simple T-shirt when his sniffles subside to the occasional shudder, nose all red and eyes all wet. His cheeks are salt tacky and his throat burns as he looks at Yoongi.

Thank fucking god you were there.

"Yoon you-"

Yoongi leans his forehead against Namjoon's sternum, ducking his head in, warn down just like you are. Yoongi understands why you couldn't stay outside and comfort Namjoon. It's not your job to comfort other people about your trauma, but right now- all he wants is you after reliving that with you.

“Let's go inside Joon.”

No one comments on Namjoon’s red eyes or Yoongi’s damp shirt, no one but Seokjin whose glance speaks volumes when it lingers on the two of them in the door. There is something terribly sentimental about the way they lean into each other. Yoongi and Namjoon have always been two sides of the same coin.

If Yoongi had been born an alpha, which one of them would have come out on top? Which one of them would be pack alpha now?

There are bowls of dipping sauce in the center of the table and Jungkook mans the frier for the fried and not steamed pork dumplings until tae switches with him. It’s not exactly the most complete of meals but there are warm soup dumplings cooling too, and a seat waiting for Namjoon at the head of the table. Jin is already showing you how to bite the edge and suck out the insides. Yoongi takes the seat next to you, but tae makes a noise. In retaliation, Jimin pulls you into his lap so that they can both sit next to you looping a powerful arm around your waist to keep you seated.

"You're gonna burn your tongue!"

"Worth it."

joking around is easier than admitting how hard it is to eat right now, how tense and bloated you already feel from eating approximately 3 dumplings. You sit sideways so that you can look at your mate who complains about your cold feet in his lap but doesn’t make you move them. stroking up and down your ankle, giving you a reassuring squeeze with every bite you take. You lean over, bumping your head against Jung-kook’s shoulder and almost falling out of jimin’s lap

“What are alphas good for besides footrests huh?” Jimin growls in retaliation, but it’s all playful. The evening dissolves into spicy kisses, feet in laps, and eventually, Jungkook sitting on Yoongi's lap too.

Minnie makes the effort to at least try to feed you from his chopsticks, though you duck around every other bite. “Here this ones perfect.” Namjoon watches hungrily, and as if in reply, Jin piles the best and most perfect ones onto your and Jimin’s combined plate. You stare down at them. But before you get overwhelmed you think about it again- Jungkook’s words.

Just try.

Namjoon takes his first deep breath in hours watching his pack eat and feel full, the warmth easing away the sting of the truth and all he knows. It’s not easy, but it is a little easier to breathe now that he knows the precise shape and depth of your wounds.

Namjoon is a healer and now that he knows how you're hurt, he can begin.

(And if you're wondering by the end of the night a little more than half the dumplings on your plate are finished. The pack counts it as a win. It will be the first of many.)

~-~

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁

Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.

He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.

That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.

He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.

Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.

He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.

He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.

Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.

Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.

The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.

Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.

Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.

(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).

On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.

He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.

When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”

On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.

Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.

Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.

You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.

He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.

If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.

He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.

He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).

He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.

Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.

Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.

He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.

You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.

Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.

He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.

On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.

He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.

He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.

Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.

He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.

It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.

Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.

#anonymous #[dreamy sight] levi where art thou levi.......... i am yearning deeply #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi smut #levi fluff #snk x reader #aot imagines

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mydekuacademia · 3 years

Note

Can I request Izuku or katsuki finding out they’re dating Aizawa’s kid? Through some angst like reader gets injured badly and they go to visit them and Dad’s there and he just says I’m their father?

Ooooof I'm here for this

I did Midoriya, but if you want a Bakugou too, lmk!

They/them pronouns used :)

Warning: blood and injury mention, cussing

Problem Child

Midoriya had no idea your work study agency was going to participate in a raid against a criminal organization in northern Honshu. He had no idea you were being put on the front lines due to your quirk's usefulness in the short range. He had no idea the danger you were in. That is, until he saw the news.

One of his classmates had turned on the national news in the common room, and everyone had crowded around the tv, elbowing each other to the side to get a better look. Midoriya couldn't quite catch what the anchors were saying, and just as he was about to ask his friends to quiet down a bit, the room fell silent.

You were on screen. Your hero costume was torn and dusty and dotted with blood stains - from you or the villains, Midoriya couldn't tell. Your face was screwed up with concentration and exhaustion. If he didn't know you so well, Midoriya wouldn't have been able to spot your underlying terror, but he saw your pinpoint pupils, your slightly trembling fingers, the way you bit your lip to distract yourself from the fear. An ice cold chill enveloped him. Why were you there?

His fear decreased slightly when he saw the pro you were working for a step in front of you. Okay, so you weren't just caught up in an attack, you were meant to be there. For a moment, he was hurt that you didn't tell him about the raid, but then he remembered the Shie Hassaikai raid and how he couldn't talk about it to anyone but the other participants. He supposed it made sense that you couldn't tell him, even if he was your boyfriend. He sincerely hoped you'd had someone to talk to about it - he remembered well how scared be was before his raid.

"Oi, Deku!"

Midoriya snapped out of his reverie and turned to face an annoyed Bakugou. "Y-yes, Kacchan?"

The blonde scowled. "Your muttering is fucking annoying. Cut it out before I blow your ass up."

Midoriya bowed his head. "I-I'm sorry. It's just...(y/n)-"

"I'm not blind, Deku. I can see that that extra is fighting. They may not be as strong as me, but there's no way they'd be a total embarrasment on live TV. So shut the hell up."

Was that his way of being encouraging? Midoriya didn't know. He didn't know a lot of things, like if you'd be okay, or if you'd be home by that night. He hadn't felt that lost in a long time.

Uraraka dragged her eyes away from the screen and locked Aizawa, standing just behind the group. "Sensei, did you know (Y/n) was going to be part of the raid?"

Aizawa's tense eyes remained glued to the screen. "No," he said in a near whisper. "Raids are often top secret affairs. They probably couldn't say anything to anyone."

Before Uraraka could answer, a thunderous boom emanated from the television. Every eye the room locked onto the screen just in time to see your unconscious body splayed across the ground, then the video feed cut out.

Chaos erupted in the common room, disjointed cries and frustrated yells echoing through Midoriya's mind. He was frozen. He was...he was scared. Aizawa managed to corral the students and order them to calm the hell down. When he reached Midoriya, he led him by the shoulder to a couch and urged him to sit. Was it just Midoriya, or was Aizawa trembling almost as hard as him? Before he could ask, Aizawa's phone began ringing. He stepped to the side to take the call, the hung up and offered a hand to Midoriya.

"Come on, problem child. We're going to see (Y/n)." His students complained at the news that they would have to wait to see you, but Aizawa silenced them with a glare. It was only natural for your boyfriend and teacher to get to see you before them.

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

You felt like shit. Your head pounded, your body ached, your ears rang, and you were too nervous to eat that morning, so you were hungry on top of all that. The only consolation was that the mission was over and you had won. You wanted so badly to see your loved ones, but you had only arrived at the hospital a short time ago. It would take time for anyone to get to you.

Or so you thought. Not a moment later, Midoriya and Aizawa entered your room. Upon seeing that you were awake and alert, they rushed to your side. Your boyfriend reached you first.

"(Y/n)! Oh my god, you're okay! You are okay, right?" You chuckled and nodded. "Thank god..." He grabbed your hand and, careful of the IV in your arm, lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles.

Aizawa stepped up to your other side. "I spoke to your doctor on the way here. You got lucky." He paused to clear his throat. "I know you had no control over this but.....don't do this again. I already lost your mother, I can't lose you too."

Midoriya's head shot up. What???? Had he heard his sensei correctly? He turned a questioning gaze on you and Aizawa.

You gave him an unreadable look and said nothing. Aizawa turned his eyes to the floor, then your bruised face. "I'm their father."

When Midoroya managed to pry his jaw off the floor, he swallowed dryly and turned to you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We thought it best to keep it to ourselves. Otherwise, you'd all think he was going to give me special treatment," you explained quietly. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I wasn't trying to hide it from you."

After giving it some thought, Midoriya came to the conclusion that he would've done the same thing. He told you so and kissed your cheek, mindful that your father was right there.

"You looked so cool on tv, (Y/n)! Especially when you-"

Aizawa smiled down at his beloved child and their boyfriend, glad that you had chosen the problem child. Although, he thought, maybe he should call you the problem child instead.

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

An Apple a Day - Ransom Drysdale x doctor!reader

a/n - hey lovely people! this one is dedicated to @anobscurename because it’s her birthday!!! ilysm and i hope you had a wonderful day you talented soul! enjoy your murder boyfriend:)

disclamer: I am absolutely not a doctor, I don’t know anything about hospitals or medicine. This work is entirely fictional:)

Summary: you’re a doctor at a hospital, and there’s one patient that just keeps getting hurt. One obnoxiously handsome patient.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Ransom isn’t a murderer in this one, but he’s still kind of an asshole, talk of injuries but nothing really graphic.

"Mr. Drysdale," you read from your notepad, raising your eyes to look around the hospital waiting room, "if you could please come in, you're next."

You weren't sure who you were expecting, but it's certainly wasn't this guy. He was dressed in what seemed to be incredibly expensive clothes, way too expensive to be at a public hospital. His eyes were a clear blue and he had a smirk on his face, one that turned into a grimace once he got up on his feet and limped his way into the room.

"We're sorry for the wait, but as you've seen there was a long line," you said, your voice level. You sat down and motioned for him to take the chair in front of you. Up close, you could notice his hair looked soft to the touch, and that big sweater he was wearing was stretching over broad, strong shoulders. "What brings you to the hospital today, Mr. Drysdale?"

"Mr. Drysdale's my father," the smirk returned to his face, "Call me Ransom."

"Okay then, Ransom," you raised your eyebrow, "I could see you had a bit of trouble with your leg coming in, is that the problem?"

"I mean, yeah," he shrugged. "It's probably sprained or some shit. I don't know. I just woke up this morning and it was hurting like a bitch."

"So your leg got hurt while you were asleep?"

"Probably not," he snorted, "I mean, I guess it happened while I was out last night."

"You guess?" you asked incredulously. You couldn't believe this guy.

"I don’t exactly remember what happened last night, so yeah, I guess," he said, signature smirk still on his face.

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Alright, Mr. Drysdale, we can check for a sprain or a fracture, but I just want to tell you that if your attitude is any indicator, it's probably not that damaged. You'd be in a lot more pain if that’s the case."

It was sprained, and he was just drunk enough, at 4 in the afternoon, not to feel it that much.

Two weeks later, you were called to assist with a case of a snakebite in the ER. You rushed over there as fast as you could, thinking something really bad is happening if they're calling for more help.

But there he was, drunk guy, as you remembered him, laying in his hospital bed looking… bored.

To be honest, you weren't even that sure how you remembered him at all, with the amount of people you saw in a day, let alone a week, you forgot most of them after a few hours, but something about him just stuck with you. Okay, honesty is the best policy – he was just hot.

"My favorite doctor!" he exclaimed when his eyes landed on you, seemingly bored no longer.

"Mr. Drysdale," you nodded, "here once more?"

"Indeed," he snickered.

"He has a snakebite on his arm," a nurse nearby filled you in. "We treated it, but he insisted you come inspect it as well since you did such a good job with his leg. Wouldn't move until you did."

You nodded in acknowledgment before coming closer to his bed, grabbing his hand and removing the bandages, inspecting the bite.

"Thank you for coming," Ransom said, smiling.

"I work here," you said in a flat tone.

"Aw really? No special treatment for me?"

"They did a good job," you commented, "you didn't need to bring me here, there are other people who need my treatment, Mr. Drysdale."

"But I wanted to," he shrugged. "And I always get what I want," he smirked.

"Somehow I don't doubt that. But I am surprised you remembered my name," you said.

"How could I forget? It's beautiful."

"Uh huh," you said, unimpressed. "Well, Mr. Drysdale, everything's fine with your hand."

"You're not going to ask how I got it?"

"What, so you can tell me how you "heroically fought a snake"? I don't think so." You were looking at his eyes now, his blue orbs boring into yours.

"Alright, you got me," he raised his hands, "I was trying to lift it up and it bit me. The sleek bastard."

"Where would you encounter a snake?"

"It's my mother's. She got it after she divorced my dad to keep her company. Apparently, she didn't know it was venomous."

"She sounds like a lovely lady," you couldn't contain your smile.

"She's really not."

"Well, Mr. Drysdale, not to be rude, but I hope you won't be coming here anytime soon." You started walking away when he spoke up.

"I already told you, it's Ransom. And if I won't come here, how would I see you?"

You ignored his question and walked away. Sure, from time to time a patient got a "crush" on you, but usually it was creepy old men you didn't dedicate a second thought to. Well, even if Ransom was by no means a creepy old man, you weren't going to give him any more thought than to any of your other patients.

It was a month later, and you had really nearly forgotten about Ransom. Until one day, you were rushed to the ER once more. Someone got beat up, badly.

You burst into the room, where you walked up to the hospital bed. The face inside it was so badly bruised it was barely recognizable, but you recognized it anyways – Ransom's.

His eyes were shut, his breathing shallow. You had seen hundreds, if not thousands of patients who were badly bruised, who were hurting, so you were near immune to it, your job demanded you be. Yet, the sight in front of you sent a wave of worry through your mind.

"Is he on painkillers?" you asked the nurse who was near the bed as well.

"Unfortunately not," Ransom rasped. He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze focusing on you. "I didn‎'t ask for you this time."

"Well, here I am," you replied, checking the initial report of his injuries.

"Could you lift up your shirt or should I do it?" you said, deciding his ribs should be the first order of business.

"Well, I thought you'd take me out to dinner fir-" his words were cut off by a whimper of pain when he tried to move his arm to do it himself.

"Alright," you said, lifting up his shirt yourself trying to ignore his toned abs as you inspected his torso, "does it hurt when i-"

Ransom groaned in pain as you rested your palm on the right side of his body.

"I take it that's a yes."

After going over his injuries, you concluded most of them were minor enough and would disappear after a few days, but he needed some stitches and his ribs were almost definitely cracked, so he needed to be kept in the hospital for another couple of days.

The first day went by and was uneventful, seeing as Ransom was hopped up on the best legal painkillers money could buy.

By the second day however, he was getting a little bit better and was more awake, so when you came to check on him in the evening he was a little more talkative.

"My favorite doctor!" he greeted you with a smile. "My ribs are hurting, could you-"

"No. I already told you Ransom, your wounds don't warrant 24/7 painkillers, despite your belief," you rolled your eyes. "It's not good for you."

"It was worth a shot," he shrugged and then winced at the pain from his rib.

"You should be good to go tomorrow. The rib won't completely heal until about a month from now, but there's no reason to keep you here for long. You'll need to be on bed rest and not make movements that can damage your rib more than you already have."

"Hey, I didn't do the damage. But you should've seen the other guy," he smirked.

"So you did some damage."

"I mean, yeah, but he deserved it."

"I'm not even going to ask," you rolled your eyes. "See you tomorrow, Ransom."

It's been two months since Ransom was released from the hospital, and thankfully, you hadn't seen him since.

It was one of your rare weekends off, so you decided to make the best of it and go out with some of your friends. Your job didn't allow for a lot of social downtime, so it was a good chance to catch up and have some fun.

The lights at the club were dim, the music blaring, and the drinks served quickly – just what you needed to take your mind off of work for once.

You were dancing with your friends when suddenly, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You dismissed it, probably just a weird feeling. But then you felt a hand on your shoulder, nudging you to turn around. You had half a mind to punch whoever it is, when-

"Hey there sweetheart." Ransom's usual smirk was on his face as he looked you up and down unabashedly. "I gotta say, that outfit's looking way better on you than these doctor clothes."

You opened your mouth to tell him they're called scrubs, but decided against it. "Stalking me, I see," you remarked instead.

"Not at all, I swear," he chuckled. "Although I can't deny it's a very pleasant surprise to see you. I was getting bored. A little more time and I would've faked some injury just to come and see you."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't," you chuckled.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, extending his hand out to you.

You eyed him for a moment before taking his hand. He immediately pulled you closer, until you were standing chest to chest. You started moving your hips to the music as his hand left yours and came to rest on your hips, gently guiding your movements.

"You know, it's funny that we met here," he murmured into your ear so you could hear it despite the loud music.

"I know, at least when you were in pain you weren't moving," you smirked. You were teasing him, but you knew he wouldn't take it seriously. The man had moves, and he knew that just like he knew about every other good quality he had.

"Ha ha," he replied dryly. "But you can't tell me you didn't want to see me again."

"I never wish for anyone to get hurt."

"Of course you don't," he drawled. He pulled you impossibly closer, his leg sneaking between yours, his face so close to yours your foreheads were nearly touching. "But that wasn't the question," he breathed.

"And what if I did want to see you again?" you said nonchalantly.

"Well, that could be arranged," he smirked.

"Really?" you raised your eyebrow. He moved away from you for a moment, reaching for his phone and giving it to you. It was so expansive you almost considered taking it and running, but you obviously didn't. You typed in your phone number instead, and when you were done you put it back in Ransom's warm hand, your finger brushing against his for a brief moment before you pulled away.

"Call me," you said. You turned to walk away but stopped. "Oh and Ransom? If you decide to be an asshole about this the next time you'll be in the hospital will be because of me. Just a heads up," you smiled sweetly.

"That's harsh."

"I know you good enough to determine it's necessary," you chuckled and walked back to your friends, who were all dying to know who the hot mystery guy was.

You looked behind you to search for Ransom one more time. He was in the same place, watching you go with his signature smirk. He probably needed to be taken down a peg, but hey – you were definitely up for the challenge.

divider is by the awesome @firefly-graphics, who has dividers for every scenario possible:)

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x female reader #ransom x reader #ransom x you #chris evans x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom x y/n #chris evans x you #ransom drysdale x you

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pradaksj · 4 years

Text

7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring

♛ summary: In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face.

"I never—" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last.

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head.

You could hear him calling your name, begging no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment.

If only you could turn back time.

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by.

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon.

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning.

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did.

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not.

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant.

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance.

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself.

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?”

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in.

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears.

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning.

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion.

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises.

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her.

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was.

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time.

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse?

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak.

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears.

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much.

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi.

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you.

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face.

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back.

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense.

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything.

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck, “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come.

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you.

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind.

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning.

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was.

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling.

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk.

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death.

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older.

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped.

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice.

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above.

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you.

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food.

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder.

“Hey, watch—”

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless.

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did.

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk.

Ding.

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted.

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”.

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye.

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times.

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model.

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again.

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act.

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic.

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone.

“First name, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Last name, Y/L/N?”

“Yes.”

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up.

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that?

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.”

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here.

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done.

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response.

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long.

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused.

“Don’t you technically—”

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button.

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?”

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile.

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh.

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker.

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard.

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude.

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago.

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch.

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you.

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse.

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.”

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up.

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess.

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized.

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room.

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator, satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!” You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment.

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know.

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing.

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.”

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around.

“Hobi is—”

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking.

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed.

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words.

“Hey remember who you’re sp—”

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile.

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it.

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.”

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face.

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances.

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—”

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?”

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face.

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?”

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.”

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”.

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest.

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her.

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips.

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it.

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through.

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents.

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong.

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress.

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm… I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.”

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?”

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors.

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research.

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before.

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers.

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?”

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!”

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you.

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes.

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that...

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic.

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.”

“Oh shut up—”

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were.

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop.

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh.

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!”

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

#btswritingcafe #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung fic #taehyung/reader #taehyung fanfic #tae fic #tae fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung series #7 Rings #kim taehyung #kth #kth fanfic

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yuta-nakamots · 3 years

Text

119 - n.jm

Pairing - Jaemin x Reader

Genre - Horror/Thriller, Angst

Warnings - Cheating, familial problems, character death, mentions of sex (though no descriptions of it), blood, violence, public humiliation (not in a nsfw way), yandere tendencies

Summary - Misfortune is all around you though you were never the true victim of it until now with Jaemin by your side. Will you make it through these troubles or die trying? Will you be killed or become the killer?

Word Count - 4.1k

Written for the #NeoHalloween writing festival hosted by @nct-writers. Check out the masterlist here.

To say that your life was rough would be just about an understatement. As a third-year student in university, you had already moved out on your own and had begun supporting yourself. Though your family was wealthy, it didn’t mean that everything in your life was handed to you on a silver platter because not everything that glitters is gold.

Your mother, who used to be a strong businesswoman who started up her own brand, was left heartbroken and devastated when she found out your father and seemingly loving husband had been having an affair for the past two years. She turned to alcohol and drugs in order to forget her sorrows and give her relief if only for a short while. You didn’t know what happened to your father after he moved out, only that he was happy with the woman he had been cheating with.

It soon became an addiction and you tried your best to save her. You scheduled and brought her into therapy appointments and followed her doctor’s orders to keep a close eye on her, but there’s only so much a college student can do. Your younger brother wasn’t helping at all either.

Chenle, only a year younger than you, has had his eyes set on taking over your mother’s business ever since he realized that special treatment he got at school from others when they heard his last name. He fed into your mother’s addictions and would reverse all the progress you made with her. “Don’t you want her money? She’s not in any state to get back in the business world so let’s just take what she has and run.” Chenle told you one night after you had finally succeeded at putting your mother to bed.

You looked at Chenle, appalled that he would even dare to say such a thing, even more at the fact that he had been thinking about this for so long. “We’re her children,” you reminded him, “she will share it with us as she wishes and she can make a comeback if you just stopped making things worse.”

“Me? Making things worse?” Chenle scoffed, mocking his disbelief. “I’m only helping things along. The faster she stops breathing, the faster we’ll get her money and I’ll get her business.” You could only shake your head at him as you pulled him out of your mother’s bedroom that now seemed much too large for her frail self. “Think about it, we can take over and split it fifty-fifty and the media would love us for it. ‘Zhong children take over their mother’s business after her passing in honor of her legacy’. Come on, can’t you see it?”

You felt nauseous at the images Chenle was painting in your mind and you knew there was only so much more of this that you could handle before you reached your own breaking point.

That’s why you brought your mother into a care home when you and Chenle were supposed to be at school. He wouldn’t know where you took her and you chose to pay for it using the money in your own bank account, though admittedly most of it was your mother’s money. Your parents had already bought you your own apartment when you first entered college, in case you wanted more independence though your mother’s condition is what stopped you from leaving. But the same day you left her at the care home was the same day you finally moved in.

As long as your mother was away from Chenle and you went in to check on her daily, everything would be fine, so you thought. You had even met your neighbor and he helped you move in. He was your age, even attended the same school, and went by the name of Jaemin.

Ever since your first year in college, your life had already been filled with issues from your own family on top of the already heavy workload from classes, leaving you little to no room for a social life. You weren’t an outcast, but you definitely weren’t popular. People usually didn’t spare you a second glance unless they knew the lineage you came from which is why you suddenly felt small under the eyes that were staring into you.

Looking up as you took your seat in economics, you saw the familiar face of your neighbor, Jaemin, as he smiled down at you. As you settled into your seat, he slipped into the one next to you before leaning over and whispering a ‘good morning’ in your ear. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive.

Within just a week of having known Jaemin, he had already become one of your closest friends, which came as a surprise since he was also one of the most popular boys on campus. But that didn’t stop him from walking home with you after both of you were done for the day. “A princess should never be left to walk on her own.” Jaemin insisted. “Who knows what dangers could be out there, waiting to attack her?” He pondered animatedly as he linked his arm with yours as you started your journey back to your apartment complex.

It was also within a week that it took Chenle to confront you. There he stood, in front of your apartment unit as you and Jaemin stepped out of the elevator. “What did you do with her?” Chenle demanded.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, faking cluelessness as came to stand in front of him, leaving Jaemin at his own unit.

Chenle rolled his eyes. “You know damn well what I mean. Where’s mom and what did you do with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You remarked dismissively as you unlocked your door.

“She’s living with you isn’t she?” Chenle sneered, barging into your apartment the second your door was unlocked.

“Go ahead, search all you want. You won’t find her here.” You took off your shoes inside the doorway before depositing your belongings in your room while listening to Chenle romp around in the background. Once you had finished unpacking your bag, you stepped out of your room, closing the door behind you, your brother still going on his little rampage. “Can you tone down the temper tantrum? I’m going to get a noise complaint from the-”

Your sentence was cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his hands holding you by your shoulders as your back slammed into the hard surface. “From who? Who will you get a noise complaint from?” His eyes bore into yours as his grip only tightened. “You know damn well that we own this apartment complex so a single noise complaint doesn’t mean jack shit.”

You raised your hand to slap him, his attitude was simply annoying, but he was faster. Chenle quickly had both of your wrists in one hand as he brought his face closer to yours. “Stop being such a bitch and tell me where she is.”

“You know I won’t do that.” Chenle let out a groan of frustration, his free hand running through his hair before it came straight for your throat. You yelped in shock as he started to apply pressure, slowly limiting your oxygen intake.

“If you’re not going to help me, then maybe I should just kill you. Right here, right now.”

“You would never.” You choked out.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” He sneered, enjoying the pitiful state he had you in.

“I’m your fucking sister, Chenle.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. If I let you live, you’ll only take more of what is rightfully mine. If you die, I can take over everything on my own and never have to deal with your annoying ass-”

Just as quickly as you started seeing spots in your vision, they were gone, the pressure on your throat was relieved and you keeled over, finally able to take gulps of air. You weren’t given much time to recover, the yells from your brother down the hallway pulling you out of your haze as he fought with another person on top of him. “Who the fuck are you?” Chenle exclaimed.

“Her boyfriend,” the person said, the deep voice easily recognizable, “don’t you dare hurt her ever again, or else it will be you getting killed instead.”

“You talk as if you have the power to do so.” Chenle retorted, only angering his attacker further.

They landed a square punch on his jaw before pulling a book off the shelf next to them and slamming it into his head, effectively knocking Chenle out. “Jaemin, what are you doing?” You yell, running in to stop him from doing any further damage.

“I heard him hurting you, princess. I can’t just let him get away with it.” He explained, pouting at you as if your brother was not lying unconscious under him. “I saved your life didn’t I?”

“God,-fuck, Jaemin, just get off of him.” You yanked him to his feet before attempting to pull Chenle up onto your back.

“Oh? What is my pretty girl doing now?” Jaemin asked, a sadistic smile appearing on his face.

“Getting him to a hospital because I can’t have my brother dying in my own apartment you sick fuck.”

Jaemin chuckled before responding while taking Chenle from your arms and carrying him on his own. “He won't die, he’ll just be knocked out for a bit.”

“And how would you know that?” You ask as you guide Jaemin out the front door, trying your best not to panic as you map out the way to your car and to the hospital.

“Experience.”

Jaemin’s answer should have troubled you but it was the least of your worries once you were nearly speeding on your way to the hospital, wanting to make sure Chenle was okay. You brought him into the ER drive-in and you and Jaemin watched as the staff wheeled him away on a stretcher. You stayed to answer a few questions, claiming that it was a case of self-defense out on the streets and you had come across it on your way home with your, self-proclaimed, boyfriend, before heading out once all the information was sorted.

“So, Chenle Zhong...he’s your brother?” Jaemin started as both of you were getting back into your car. You nodded as you started the engine and put on your seatbelt. “Which means...Sarah Zhong, The Sarah Zhong is your mother?” Again, you nodded as you shifted the car into gear and pulled out from the ER drop-off zone. “So he was in your apartment, about to kill you because he didn’t know where his own mother went?”

“There’s a lot more to it than that, but let’s just get home first and I’ll explain everything to you then, okay?” Jaemin let out a grunt to acknowledge you as he placed a hand on your thigh and went to check his phone. “But first, actually, what’s up with you suddenly becoming my boyfriend? First with Chenle and now at the hospital?”

“Isn’t that what I am?” Jaemin asked, his voice sickly sweet.

“You are a boy and you are my friend, but that does not make you my boyfriend, Jaemin.”

He sighed next to you. “What if I asked you right now? What if I asked, right now, ‘y/n Zhong, will you be my girlfriend’? What would your answer be?” You drove in silence, your mind going blank. “I know you find me attractive.” He interjected before letting it go silent once again. “Look, it’s not like you have any other choice or else-”

“‘Or else’ what?” You interrupted. “Tell me, why do I not have a choice here? Why are you forcing me to be your girlfriend?”

Jaemin gently squeezed your thigh upon noticing your hands were shaking on the wheel. “You pretty brother will probably press charges against me and if you don’t want your family to get exposed, the best way to do so would be following the alibi we set out for ourselves.”

Coming to a stop at a red light, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck.” Jaemin was absolutely right. “Fuck” you yelled, this time startling the boy next to you.

Jaemin remained quiet as you sat hunched over before quietly mumbling “green” to let you know the light had changed colors. You drove through the intersection, feeling something in your life shift, and so began your relationship with Jaemin.

You had explained everything to Jaemin that day once you arrived back at your apartment complex, from your father’s affair up until now with Chenle having confronted you earlier in the evening. You had also broken down in tears and asked Jaemin to stay the night with you, which he gladly agreed to do, not that it would have been much trouble for him anyways since he lives next door.

A fake sense of calm consumed you in the following month. You and Jaemin entered a sort of honeymoon phase in your semi-fake relationship while your mother’s health continued to improve and Chenle made his recovery. You don’t know how he did it, but Jaemin had managed to doctor up some footage, making it look as if Chenle had been mugged just outside of the complex, and two figures, assumed to be you and Jaemin, came into view and helped him into a car nearby before driving off.

The investigators didn’t stay around much longer after that, closing the case as if it were as easy as a hit and run. You knew Chenle would be furious with you and you lived every day in fear of him turning up unannounced, ready to take your life again. Being with Jaemin made you feel safe, oddly enough, even with all the red flags he had thrown your way. From knocking Chenle out to the fixed footage and even the way he had the proper cleaning supplies to wipe any evidence of Chenle having been in your apartment.

Jaemin showed you love more intensely than any of your past relationships that sometimes you had to remind yourself why you were doing this. The way he kissed you was absolutely enrapturing, the way he caressed every part of you so gently sent butterflies through your body. He had even made love to you a few times, all while confessing his adoration for you. He held your hand and let you wear his clothing, acting as a model boyfriend that any girl would wish to have.

Being with Jaemin wasn’t all that great though. He teased you, sometimes even publicly embarrassed you, though he chalked it up to being his way of showing his affection. Today was the worst of all. You had stayed up trying to finish a paper for econ, but you just couldn’t get the words to flow and ended up bullshitting nearly all of it. Jaemin had known all of this, yet he volunteered your essay to share during class when your professor had asked for any names. “Ah yes, Ms. Zhong, it would be a pleasure to hear your writing.” He said as he stepped down from the podium.

“Jaemin, I fucking swear to god-” You whispered through a fake smile.

“It’s okay princess, you got this. You’re smart, I know you are.” He encouraged through a genuine smile though the intentions behind it were less so.

As you stood up on the podium, you cleared your throat while holding your sad excuse for a research paper. “I wrote my essay on the stock market and investments, and how we shouldn’t buy into such things as all these numbers are digital and cannot be withdrawn into physical money.”

“With all due respect, Ms. Zhong, your paper sounds absolutely wonderful but the topic of this research paper was on how politics affect economies worldwide.” Your professor informed you.

You paused, feeling hot chills pass over you. “Uh, yes, that’s what my essay is on. I just meant that I had chosen to write about it from a more fundamental scale.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Your professor exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Please, do continue in that case, I’m terribly sorry for interrupting.”

“So, like I was saying,” you began again, glancing over at Jaemin, only for him to shoot you a smile, “we should not buy into the stock market since it is all digital and wealth is not promised.” Your presentation went on like this for the next few minutes, occasionally looking at Jaemin whenever you wanted to finish and step off the podium, but his gaze changed immediately whenever you took a step towards the edge and it forced you to stay up there, talking around in circles, confusing yourself. “This is why prices are so inflated with what our past presidents have done in the economy-”

“Thank you, Ms. Zhong. I do believe it is time we moved on to the next paper.” Your professor advised, much to your relief as he gave you a look of pity and condolence while allowing you to step down before he resumed his position at the front of the class.

You were on the edge of tears as you sat back down next to Jaemin and you swatted his hand away from you when he tried to wrap an arm around you as if to comfort you. You felt your phone vibrating in your bag as Jaemin texted you but you didn’t even bother checking it, choosing to zone out while staring at the white walls of the lecture hall instead.

After your professor excused the class for the day, you made a beeline for the apartments, not even caring that you still had one more class. Jaemin called out for you and ran after you but you thanked whatever divine being above that blessed you by letting Jeno, his best friend, pull him off to their shared biology class.

Had you been a little more attentive, maybe you would’ve noticed the near carbon copy of your car parked at the end of the garage as you pulled out. But you didn’t, only seeking your mother’s comfort as you drove off to the care home since it had indeed been a week since you had last visited and you promised that you would come at least once a week.

When you arrived at the care home and passed through the main lobby, greeting the staff working as you were a familiar face among them, one of them stopped you. “Ms. Zhong! Sorry to stop you, but a person by the name of Chenle Zhong came by to pick up your mother. We didn’t know if this was something you had arranged or not but he had all the credentials and your mother seemed to recognize him enough so we let her go.”

You froze in absolute shock and panic. “What do you mean you let her go? You left her with some stranger that you don’t even know?”

“We’re truly sorry, but he did have all the paperwork to prove his relation to you and your mother so there was nothing we could do.” The worker said, speaking quickly in hopes of ceasing your anger.

You took a couple of deep breaths before looking around, noticing all the eyes on you. “How much did he pay?” Silence. “I said, how much did he pay?” You yelled.

“$150,000.” The woman behind the front desk spoke up. You knew it, you fucking knew it would happen but now there was nothing left to do except wait for Chenle to show up.

You don’t know what came over you but something compelled you to enter Jaemin’s apartment instead of yours once you returned to the apartments so you went along with it, dropping your bag at the foot of his bed before lying down and falling asleep as you waited for him to finish at school.

Your sleep was a black dreamless sleep and you woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, not knowing what time it was nor why you woke up in this state. You looked out of the window, noting that it was now dark out, meaning that you had probably slept for at least an hour or two, which answered your first immediate question. The answer to the second came when you finally registered the yelling coming from next door. Next door...your apartment.

Scrambling out of Jaemin’s bed, you didn’t even bother putting on your shoes, bursting in through your front door and running down the main hallway towards the living room, the source of all the noise, to find a bloodied Jaemin on top of an equally, if not more, bloodied Chenle, the weapon in question lying a few feet away from them, the warm red liquid slowly dripping from the blade of the kitchen knife onto your beige carpet. “Jaemin, what the fuck are you doing?!” Both boys paused at the sound of your voice.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I had come home to wait for you after you had run away but instead he came to me. I knew all about how he had bought you mother so I figured, why not give him injuries that will cost another $150,000?” His face smiling at you with the bloodied fingerprints plastered on his pale skin was a sight you knew you’d never forget.

You slowly stepped towards them, your brain working at speeds beyond your comprehension. “Jaemin, how did you know about my mother? I had only just come from there so unless Chenle told you...” you paused to look over at your brother, who shook his head before coughing up some blood, spitting some in a glob at Jaemin.

Jaemin cooed at Chenle as he wiped the blood off his face before running that same hand through Chenle’s hair, locking his fingers into it and yanking Chenle’s head back at a painful angle. Chenle yelled out in pain, his cries muffled when Jaemin pulled a blanket off your couch and stuffed it into Chenle’s mouth. “You see, princess, I had their security circuit pulled even before you told me about your family’s misfortune.”

“Wha- but how...why?...” You struggled to grasp at all the information being connected in your head.

“Your cheating father had an affair with not only your mother and mine as well.” He looked between you and Chenle, enjoying the shock that was mirrored in both of your expressions. “That’s right, my mother is the mistress who stole away your father. However, he is the man who broke apart my family too when she ran away with him, leaving me with my abusive asshole of a dad.”

You continued moving closer and kneeled down once you were in front of Jaemin, bringing yourself to eye level with him, even if the smell of blood was making you feel like passing out. “I figured that by killing one of you, I could force you stupid Zhongs to get back together and bring my mother back to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger, not when I’ve fallen so madly in love with you...which leaves me with him.”

Jaemin lunged for the knife next to you only to find that you picked it up much faster than he did. You stood up and backed away from them with the knife as Chenle attempted to shove Jaemin off of him, but Jaemin was stronger though not by much. “Princess, please do both of us a favor. He tried to kill you and he’s shown how little you mean to him. Do you really think he’d share everything equally with you?” Your eyes darted between both of theirs. “Don’t you wish for my happiness? After all the love I’ve given to you?”

Your gaze locked with Chenle’s who was shaking due to the overexertion of his body. “Does the pretty boy have something to say?” Jaemin cooed as he pulled the blanket out of Chenle’s mouth.

“It’s me or him, y/n. Me or him.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Jaemin said before pouncing back on Chenle, both his hands wrapping around Chenle’s pale neck.

You threw the knife, hoping for it to reach its target. It did, and you watched as his body stilled and went limp right in front of your eyes, the blade pierced through his heart. It was honestly a lucky throw but regardless, the blood on the knife was because of you.

You are the killer now.

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Marinette Vs Santa: The Final Round

Okay, so it’s 11:38 on Christmas. I promised I would post this today. So I am. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Enjoy your present.

The jolly fat man would get his, Marinette swore. She wore a lovely gold, snowflake-embroidered cocktail dress. Her hair was done in a French side braid with voluminous Curls; more than she ever had in her entire life. Honestly, she looked like a princess.

And it would’ve been a win for her if it wasn’t for the circumstances that made it yet another Tie against Santa.

Roy has his hand on the small of her back since they step out of the limo. The forced sweet smile on her face was for the paparazzi that had waited outside the restaurant. When they got inside, and as they were shone to their table, Roy's hand slipped south.

Marinette stiffened and leaned close to Roy and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get your hand off my butt, I’m going to take off one of my five-inch heels and slit your throat with it.”

Roy’s hand was gone in a flash, “Aww babe,” He said, a little loudly, nodding to the table where his parents’ Oliver and Dinah waited; their eyes watching the young couple’s every move. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Marinette giggled, as she fought the urge to slam his against a nearby table, “Not in front of your parents. It’s called manners.”

Your lucky homicide is still technically illegal, Marinette thought viciously, and a sure-fire way to get on fat bastard’s naughty list.

He wouldn’t win. No, Marinette had gone too far; been through too much to lose now.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Dinah stood once the two approached. She pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’ve tried to instill etiquette into Roy for years. His last girlfriends and he nearly in trouble for public indecency. Maybe you’ll do a better job than I did.”

Marinette laughed, “I will even if I have to cut off his hand.”

Oliver chuckled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s girl.” The resemblance was uncanny.

After that the fell into an easy conversation.

“That dress is beautiful,” Dinah said. “Who’s the designer?”

Marinette beamed, “I am. I love fashion. It’s my dream,” She explained. “I plan on launching my own company. While there’s always room to learn and enhance my designing skills, I feel as if I have that side at least somewhat covered. However, the business angle is something I need to learn. Which is why I plan on getting my MBA at an Ivy League. I was considering Yale or Princeton.”

“Princeton,” Oliver grinned. “Did you hear that Roy?” Roy rolled his eyes, and once again, regretted being born. “Marinette’s considering Princeton. That’s the top school on his list. Queens have gone there for generations.” He pulled his wife into a hug. “It’s where I knew Dinah was the one.”

Dinah gave Marinette a blank stare, “I couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having bedbugs.” (“Hey!” Oliver cried in protest.) “No matter what I did, he just coming back. The only solution was to burn the entire place down and vanish without a trace. But apparently, that’s illegal or whatever. Stupid.”

“I know, right,” Marinette nodded earnestly. “What’s up with that?”

They had a wonderful dinner. They watched a paparazzi pretending to be a waiter be escorted out of the restaurant. It was great, amazing even. Oliver and Dinah had been perfectly lovely. Roy had acted like a perfect gentleman. Marinette could’ve almost pretended she was actually meeting her boyfriend’s family. She was about to count the entire night as a win until…

“So how many grandkids should I expect in the future,” Oliver asked, a sincere look on his face, though he was snickering inside.

Marinette chocked on her chocolate mousse and ended up in a coughing fit that Dinah helped her with. Roy had met his father’s gaze and gave him his most charming smile, “Seven,” He answered.

“Seven!” Marinette barked out and she looked around frantically as if Ashton Kutcher had revived his hit show and was about to pop out.

Oh, gods; please let me be getting punked, Marinette prayed.

Oliver’s eyebrows went up, “Seven, huh, big family.”

Roy hummed, “the Wayne-Queens certainly will be.”

“You mean the Queen-Waynes,” Oliver corrected, his hackles rising.

“Well, I figured since we’d be living in Gotham,” Roy didn’t even bother to hide his smirk. “We’d go by the Wayne-Queen family. I actually found this great place not too far from Wayne Manor. Plenty of room for the kids, maybe a dog or two; a rose garden. You know how Waynes are about their roses. You can visit whenever.”

Marinette might have momentarily blacked out during this. It was how Marinette knew she had officially lost that round to Santa.

Oliver and Dinah just looked at Roy; their entire bodies stiff.

Dinah took a long drink from her wine glass, “Gotham has such a high crime rate. Have you considered Star City, Marinette?”

“I’ve never been,” Marinette said sweetly. “But I could live anywhere really. I’m pretty open.”

Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Yes, but I figured you’d want to spend as much time with your family as possible. Jason’s my best friend. I love Gotham. It just works. Besides Bruce Wayne would make an amazing grandpa.”

The grip Oliver had on his dessert fork made Marinette fear for Roy’s life. It was time to step in. “I suppose Robb or Thea would love a big backyard to play in.”

That got the other three’s attention.

“Robb? Thea?” Oliver whispered. His throat was dry. His brain tried to process what was said.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But Roy and I started talking one day and well,” Marinette trailed off. A soft pink blush appeared on Marinette’s face, enhancing her overall innocent aura. She had done background on the Queen family. “Our firstborn; if it’s a boy Robb as in Robert Thomas; for your father and my grandfather. If it’s a girl, Thea Sabine; for your sister and my mother. It was Roy’s idea. He knows how much you loved them.”

It was then that Marinette got to check off one more wish off her list. It had been made as a joke in passing to Chloe and Kagami months ago. They had been having a girls’ night. When Chloe, ever prepared, asked what they wanted for Christmas. They had been watching a Justice League fight on the news. Marinette had laughed and said she wanted to show them up one day; make a superhero cry.

However, watching The Green Arrow tear up while the Black Canary comforted himself, made her think that Santa took her to wish out of context.

Roy was pulled into a big hug by his parents, and he sent her a vicious glare, and mouthed, “What did you do?”

Oliver pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “You know; there’s nothing like a spring wedding in Star City.”

Marinette threw down her napkin.

Fuck Santa.

The news had a field day. The picture of Marinette in her dress and Roy in his designer suit was what everyone was talking about. The women of the view talked about her outfit. Wendy Williams talked about her outfit. It was as if Marinette was living in another universe.

Nothing could bring her down.

“What the hell?” Jason asked as he picked her up for school. “Why the fuck is Roy spamming me with hate texts. Why the fuck is Oliver arguing with B over visitation rights to his grandchildren? Who the Fuck are Robb and Thea? And why the fuck is Dad asking Aquaman if Atlantis really sunk on its own, or if it had a little help?”

Marinette tiled her head, “Is Papa planning on sinking Star City? And that’s forty dollars for the swear jar.” Her parents had implements after one too many curse words were thrown around.

“Worth it!” Jason said. “And yes, I’ve positive that’s what’s going to happen. It’s gonna be amazing. Also, he’s gonna kill Roy!”

“He deserves it,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“Hey!”

“He put his hand on my butt!”

Jason paused and narrowed his eyes. “Correction. I’m gonna kill Roy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but then she realized something. “Aren’t they’re usually two of you? Where’s the other one?” It was the routine. She was always escorted into school by two members of the Wayne family.

Jason smirked, “You’ll see.”

The paparazzi mostly screamed the usual things at her. At that point, she was used to it. It was the few changes at school that she was used to.

Damocles had been fired for bribes and severe negligence. He was replaced by Mendeleev. Bustier had been fired for her role in Marinette’s expulsion without proper procedure and basically catering to bullies while blaming the victim. She replaced by a sterner teacher name Miss Reed. She was by the book and not afraid to call in the higher-ups if something smelled fishy.

The first was any and all forms of bullying in class was no longer tolerated. The school had issued a zero-tolerance policy that the kids in Bustier’s class had felt immediately.

The second was Lila’s supposed medical history. No doctor’s note, no special treatment. It was also required that Lila present a note from her mother regarding any future absences.

The third was Adrien’s being pulled randomly out of class. CPS got involved real fast regarding child labor laws.

The days of her classmates getting away with bloody murder were over. Reed saw everything. Everything.

Alya, who had returned to class always avoided Marinette at all times. Her parents had given her the biggest talking to about respecting others’ right to privacy. Marinette had agreed to drop any legal charges against her former friend provided she adhere to the cease and desist order. The girl knew too much about Marinette. And Marinette needed to make it clear that she would bury the girl in lawsuits before she’d allowed even one-fourth of it to be made public.

Jason had walked her to class. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he went directly to the back of the class and took a seat next to Chloe. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore the curious looks from the students.

The blond eyed the ripped jeans, the overly sized red flannel shirt, and the beat-up leather jacket, “Grunge died in the 90s. Like it deserved.”

Jason, not bothering to look up from his phone, “Paris Hilton said it’s cool that you plagiarized her look.”

Chloe gasped.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Chloe would not forgive this. Jason was an asshole. It would be war.

Miss Reed walked in and didn’t look twice at Jason.

Marinette narrowed her eyes; something was up.

The class went on without a hitch though until just about the end of the first period…

When Tim and a pretty, brown-haired, tanned skin, an older woman walked in the door. They looked to be having a pleasant conversation.

“Mama,” Lila gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

“Ooohhhh,” Marinette nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” That was what was happening. Operation: Get That Bitch.

“Oh!” Tim feigned surprised. “I didn’t know your daughter was in my sister’s class, Naomi.”

Naomi had been pleasantly surprised when Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries reached out to speak to her about potential business ventures in Italy. He was in Paris visiting his sister and wanted an insider perspective on Italy’s economy and tourist information. Her bosses were thrilled. Wayne opening up a site in Italy would do wonders for the overall economic and industrial growth. Then they got to talking about a potential student exchange program that Wayne Industries were willing to fund.

What Tim hadn’t told the Ambassador was that Wayne Industries had been scouting locations in Italy for their new plant for the last ten months. All the research was done. Everything was primed to go. Still, Tim was kind enough to ensure that Naomi Rossi received the credit for getting Wayne Industries on board.

Mrs. Rossi blinked in surprise, “I had no idea either. Lila, we’re here to discuss a potential international exchange program for kids all over the world. Tim wanted to say hello to his sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Marinette Wayne?”

Marinette leaned forward in her seat. A slow smile spread across her face.

“I, well, I,” Lila struggled to say.

“We’re not the closest, Mrs. Rossi,” Marinette offered. “She’s always so busy, we haven’t had the time.”

“Ahh,” Tim snapped his fingers. “That Lila Rossi. Marinette told me all about her.” He crossed his arms. “Naomi, how was Achu? I haven’t gone yet. But from what Marinette’s told of Lila’s stories, you two go all the time. You become close to the royal family, yes?”

Coldness went down to Naomi Rossi’s spine. She stiffened. Her eyes went to her daughter who had a look of dread on her face. Not this again, she nearly groaned. “There’s been some… confusion,” Mrs. Rossi said, gearing up every ounce of diplomacy she learned in her twenty-year career. Lila was so grounded after this. “A miscommunication, I suppose. My ambassadorship has taken my family to England, Spain, and Japan for a little while, and here in France, of course. However, nowhere else. We have never been to Achu. That is a bit above my paygrade, I’m afraid,” She laughed nervously.

The class was as silent as a library. If Bustier was still there, a few students would’ve started yelling their complaints and cries for explanations. One or two would’ve started screaming at Lila for lying. But Bustier was gone. And the look Reed was giving her class, dared them to try.

Tim chuckled, “Kids. When I was seven I swore I spent the summer in Greece with my parents. I didn’t find out until I was eleven that I was actually in Rome. What can you do?” He gave her his most charming smile. “England, was that where Lila met Jagged Stone? I think he’s from there.”

“Jagged who now?” Naomi asked. “The Rock Star? No, Lila’s never met him. She’s a huge fan though.”

“But he wrote a song about her!” Alya cried out. “She saved his cat from getting hit by a plane!”

Miss Reed, “Alya, please raise your hand and keep to a reasonable level while inside. It will be detention if I have to tell you again.”

Miss Reed and Mendeleiev had agreed to The Wayne's suggestion of revealing Lila’s lies to the class. It was the only way they would believe it and that she could lie her way out of. It was unnatural the way the students trailed after the girl, simpering over grand stories and promises of famous connections. They needed to learn to rely on hard work and their own talent, not on how many famous people they might get to the chance to meet.

“A plane?” Mrs. Rossi asked, an affronted look on her face. “You think I would ever allow my child to be in such danger?” She looked at her daughter. “Your grandmother always said you would be a grand writer with all the stories you tell. You could’ve at least come with a sensible lie.”

“I can explain,” Lila said but whether she was talking to her mother or class was anyone’s guess.

Rose raised her hand, “Lie? Lila can’t be lying. What about all the trips she takes with you? The charity organizations she runs? The famous people she knows like Clara Nightingale who always ask her for help. She’s close friends with Prince Ali. That’s why she’s always away from school. One time she was gone for weeks.”

Naomi Rossi looked at her daughter, who did everything she could to avoid eye contact with her mother. “You told me that the school was closed due to the Akumas. It was a lie.” She looked at the teacher. “If the school wasn’t closed, Lila should have only missed three days of school this semester due to her being ill with the flu. She should have only missed seven to ten days in total last year. I do apologize, my daughter…” She gave Lila a dark look. “Seems to have a talent for tall tales.”

Miss Reed stood up, “It’s a matter for the Principle. Her last teacher overlooked many things and wrote off what she couldn’t. Her schoolwork was done the year before; her grades were good enough to pass. She has not missed too many days so far; a few more than the average student but it happens. Any homework missed can still be made up. She is welcome in my class. However, when you get the chance, I would like make an appointment to discuss with you any medical accommodations she has that need to be addressed.”

Mrs. Rossi crossed her arms, “She never wears her glasses. She has sensitive eyes that prevent her from wearing contacts. Without them, she can’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.” She looked straight at her daughter. “And she knows this.”

Marinette wanted to bang her head against the desk. Why couldn’t Lila just say that? She’d have understood.

Mrs. Rossi looked at the class, “I am so sorry for any trouble my daughter may have caused.” She looked at Tim. “I hope this doesn’t cast a negative light on any prospective business relations.”

Tim shook his head, “Kids will be kids. Let’s continue to speak over lunch.”

“I’ll see you at home, Lila,” Mrs. Rossi said.

Tim grinned, “Marinette, I’ll see you after school. Jason.”

Jason got to leave only to stumble nearly down the stairs. He cast a quick glare at Chloe.

The blond gave him a vicious smirk, “Walk much?”

“Oh it’s on,” Jason hissed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Last year, she had wished with all her might that her friends would see Lila for who she really was. Now the truth was out. Lila had been exposed.

Regrettably, Marinette had already lost all her friends. And those who were still her friends, already knew the truth. So it wouldn’t change much. She’d had already forgiven her ex-friends a long time ago. Marinette just had to intention of being friends with them again. Still, it was a victory.

Fuck Santa; this round went Marinette.

The Justice League had been stunned when they learned that the masked hero Ladybug who was protecting Paris in an adorable bright red suit, who seemed to be made of sunshine, rainbows, and happiness was Batman’s daughter. Like so stunned that as soon as they saw her secret Identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and her takedown of monsters twelve times her size; one or two (or twelve) asked Superman to take a DNA test too. Because Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only black-haired Superhero around, and you know things happen.

…Batman hadn’t been happy when Oracle alerted him that someone in the Watch Tower was running his daughter’s DNA against Superman’s.

“How sure are we?” Hal Jordan asked. “The DNA results never came back. How do we know she’s not Big S’s?”

The main members of the Justice League were waiting for Batman and his family to arrive. Then they were would officially be introduced to the hero Ladybug.

Superman glared, “Stop it. Batman already brought out the kryptonite the last time you mentioned it.”

Wonder man nodded, “Her civilian self is the spitting image of Bruce.”

“All of his kids have dark hair and light eyes,” The Flash reminded them. “One of like seven or twelve, or however many he has now, we know for sure is his.”

“They are all his,” Black Canary stated with a growl. She and Oliver had adopted Roy when he was young but that didn’t make the boy any less hers.

Just then the light of the zeta beam sounded and Batman and Ladybug appeared in the room. The clear contrast between the two was startling.

The Dark, brooding, Knight of Gotham dressed in all black with a look on his face that could’ve made Superman wince in fear. Ladybug, dressed in bright red, with a big, cheerful, smile on her face and large blue eyes that looked positively mesmerized by the heroes.

“I brought cookies,” The small girl chirped as she motioned to the goodies in her hands. “And apple pie! It’s a family recipe. I made them myself. I really hope you like them.”

Batman glared worsen to the point where a few Justice League members feared for their lives. The message was clear; they’d like them. Or else.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Diana smiled. “Come on, let me show you where we’ll be meeting.

Marinette tried not to stare in awe at her favorite superhero. “I also brought Vegan. And gluten-free cookies. I wanted to make sure everyone could get some.” She said as she was led away.

The world-renowned heroes visibly cooed at the young hero. She was the most adorable thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

The Flash laughed, “What did you bring, Bats?”

“Death,” Batman growled as stalked after his daughter.

Cyborg swallowed hard. “I’m not saying you’re right,” He told Hal and Barry. “I’m saying for this type of situation; Maury is classier than Jerry Springer.”

Superman groaned. They were going to get him killed.

“Apple pie!” The flash said. “She brought Apple, Clark; it’s a sign from the gods.”

Ladybug briefing them on her hero journey had been riveting. The Justice League had always been aware of Ladybug's existence. Once aware of her, Diana had told them all the history of the Miraculous and how her own mother used to be one of the users. Ladybug, with Chat Noir for a time, handled herself and protected the city well. They saw no reason to interfere. The Justice League had strict rules of interfering with another’s heroes’ turf. They figured if Ladybug needs help, the hero would call on them. They never knew she was a child.

Her age bothered them.

“She can’t protect the city,” Aquaman said. “We’ll need to step in.”

“Excuse me,” Marinette said.

The Flash nodded, “We’ll need to run Intel. I’ll have Vibe take a look at things.”

“Wait! I don’t think you-” Marinette started but was cut off.

“The magic is ancient and powerful,” Hawkman interrupted. “We should call Constantine. Or Doctor Fate perhaps.”

Ladybug shook her head, “That wouldn’t be a good idea!”

Green Lantern waved her off, “It’s fine, kid. We’ll handle it. While we’re at it; consider joining Young Justice or Teen Titans. Get you some training before you call yourself a real hero. Until then stick with the little league team.”

Marinette froze. What did he just say? White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

And to think she always dreamed of meeting the Justice League; of standing face to face with the heroes after having proven herself; proven that she was just as much of a superhero as they. However, Marinette knew she was already a hero. And no one would tell her otherwise.

The round went to Santa. But Marinette would have her due.

Fuck Santa!

Superman said, “We’ll start having unplaced league members scouting the area. They’ll notify us at the first sign of Hawkmoth.”

“ENOUGH!” Marinette yelled. She growled at the heroes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The silence that followed that question was deafening. “You know nothing of Hawkmoth; saw nothing of what I’ve been through. There is a reason I never called in the league. Superpowered individuals still have emotions; still anger. He can turn any of you into akumas. Get inside your heads; learn who you really are. You’ll be a toy for him. Batman brought me here to meet you; not for you to pretend you know how to do my job.”

She glared at the room and then zeroed in on the Green Lantern. Within seconds, Ladybug had yanked him out of his seat, pulled the ring off his finger, and held by his collar as the man detransformed. “Real Hero? You think I’m not a real hero? I’ve fought monsters nightmares couldn’t even begin to fathom. You want to see what I’m capable of, Glow Stick? How about I take you to the nearest training room and see if you bleed green?”

Batman stood up, “My team will be running point on the Paris situation; following Ladybug lead. You’ll refrain from entering the city of Paris until further notice. That is all.” He looked at his daughter and had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Ladybug let Green Lantern go, and give him back his ring.”

Ladybug huffed, “I’ll give him back his ring. And then I want ten minutes alone with him.”

Hal gulped.

“No,” Batman said. “We must leave. You have to get ready for Winter break. Next time.”

Ladybug glared and then dropped the hero on the ground. “Next time,” She promised.

Then swiftly the father and daughter duo departed.

Once the two were gone, Wonder Woman chuckled, “Anyone else want to question Ladybug’s Paternity. Anyone?”

Barry had to fight the shivers that went through him. Ladybug had Batman’s glare and knew how to use it. “Nope. Never again.”

Marinette’s first night in Gotham was memorable. The entire bat family had been waiting for Marinette when she arrived; Bruce, Alfred, Kate, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Luke, and Damian. Alfred, the man her brothers had deemed their grandfather, had welcomed her with open arms and a dinner that was more like a feast than a simple meal.

On the outside, Wayne manor looked like any home in the neighborhood; quiet, idealistic, and seemingly perfect.

On the inside, as soon as Bruce and Alfred stepped away for a moment, her siblings took her to the Batcave. It was as grand as she always imagined. Then someone (Tim) brought out lightsabers.

Marinette thought it was a fancy version of the toy she used to love so much as a kid; her only complaint was that the plastic swords only came in green, red and the occasional blue. She really wanted a pink one and had put it on her Christmas list for two years straight.

She pressed the button, only for the sword handle to heat up, and a pink laser rises out of it. “Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“…This is a real lightsaber,” The heat from the sword threated to burn or hand a little. Or worse. She’d seen all the movies. She knew how this usually ended up.

“Yep.”

Marinette nodded slowly. Because what the heck.

“Just go with it,” Luke shrugged. “Just-just go with it.” He sounded like a defeated man. A tired one at that.

“Don’t be like that!” Dick smiled, “Family bond time is the best time.”

“Jedi versus Sith?” Marinette just asked.

Tim pointed a bright gold lightsaber at her, “Jedi versus Sith.”

Marinette looked around at the different colored and very, very dangerous lightsabers. There was no way this could possibly go well. And with the way her Kate, aka Batwoman, was smirking there was no way Alfred would consider her proper adult supervision. Someone was going to lose a hand. Or die. Most likely both.

But she wouldn’t back down. This was more or less her eight-year-old self’s dream. It was also likely to get her killed.

…Marinette would take those odds.

“What team am I on?” She asked.

Cassandra shook her head, “Up to you. Good versus is a chose; just a game though,” She cast Stern looks at Jason, Tim, and Damian, who now sported black robes, clearly, by the Darth Maul make up that had somehow appeared on Damian’s face, were clearly Sith Lords.

Santa thought this would scare her. That she would be cowed into submission. Finally admit defeat. Well, Marinette only had one thing to say to that. Two things actually.

“Give in to the dark side, sister,” Damian ordered her. His lightsaber was red and had two sides to it much like the character he matched.

Marinette got into a fighting stance, “Not today.”

And Fuck Santa.

…

Alfred and Bruce were not happy when they finally located the children.

Or the fact that someone had to get their hand reattached.

It was two to two. Christmas day had arrived. Marinette had expected the worst; had geared up for the worst.

Nothing happened.

Marinette spent the day with her family.

Her parents had even arrived from Paris on the day before Christmas eve.

They shared presents. They sang songs. The entire family was together. It snowed outside. She and all of her siblings had a snowball fight while her parents and Alfred watched from the porch.

It was a perfect Christmas day.

Except for one thing…

Marinette knew the truth.

The perfect day was the result of one thing…

Santa was preparing too. He didn’t back down. The fight wasn’t over yet. He was too busy to mess with her on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean anything.

Everyone knew the Holiday season didn’t officially end until January 1st.

After New Year’s eve.

That was the final round.

The match to end all matches.

On New Years’ Eve, it would be war.

Roy wore a tailored tux as he walked her down the carpet, passed the flashing lights of the paparazzi.

Marinette never thought she’d fight the most battle of her life in a ballgown. It was a jaw-dropping, off the shoulder, floor length silver dress with lacy unique floral accents. Her hair was in a side-braid with small forget-me-nots on top of her hair like a crown.

It was her battle armor, and she was ready for anything.

It was a promise, she made to herself.

…

Okay so it turns out, Marinette lied to herself.

She wasn’t ready for anything. She did not stand a chance against Santa. He was a jerk. And she was six-second from throwing in the towel and running off crying.

Marinette had known exactly who was attending the ball. She had memorized every guest on the list. Trying to figure out exactly what the fat guy who throws out her. As soon as she saw exactly which celebrities were coming. She knew.

The first punch had been the man ten-year-old Marinette swore she was going marry. Harry freaking Styles.

But Marinette had prepared herself. It would be a quick conversation and then she wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

When she met the superstar, Marinette had smiled and laughed; had a good conversation, wasn’t even awkward at all. She wasn’t the overly One Direction obsessed 10-year-old anymore.

It was a hard hit, and the best conversation of her life, but Marinette didn’t go down.

Santa’s next move was a cheap shot, and she stumbled.

Marinette had been trying to find a quiet place to think for herself so could get strengthen up a bit but, to avoid one of her brothers (Dick), she collided straight into Nick Jonas and fell on her butt.

She hadn’t even realized it at first as he helped her up.

“Thank you,” Marinette said kindly, as she brushed off her dress. When she looked up and saw exactly who had collided with, her face turned a bright red. “You’re Nick Jonas,” She squeaked; literally squeaked. She wanted to die.

Nick Jonas. She loved Nick Jonas. She listen to all his songs; even his old Jonas Brothers ones. She had always wanted to meet the singer; she had dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled. “You alright.”

No. Marinette was not alright.

Still, she chirped a quick, “I’m fine.” And introduced herself.

Then he said, “Love your dress.”

“I made it! I can make you one!” Slipped out before she could stop it.

He just laughed though, “How about a suit instead?”

Yeah, so that happened.

And the night just got worse from there.

…

Santa gave her a combo hit; worthy of a champion.

Not many knew but Marinette was a huge Harry Potter fangirl. Hermione Granger was her all-time favorite. She was a hardcore Harmony shipper; Harry/Hermione forever.

Tim knew it though. He was a big-time fan as well. And he thought it would be a great idea to introduce Marinette to the actress who played her favorite character; Emma Watson.

It was not a good idea. At all.

The first words out of Marinette’s mouth upon seeing Emma Watson were literally, “It's leviOsa, not levioSA!”

And it was at the point that Marinette just wanted to call it a night.

Emma had laughed it off, promising she got it all the time.

…

Marinette met Chris Hemsworth and just wouldn’t stop giggling.

Stephanie had to pull her away.

It was then that she knew Santa had her on the ropes.

…

She met Big Time Rush.

The boy band had become internally famous over the last few years. Not as big as One Direction but they still had their dedicated fans. Marinette was one of them

Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell. They were all eighteen

It should’ve have been easy. She liked their band but not nearly as much as she liked Harry Styles, or Emma Watson, Or Chris Hemsworth.

Still, she hadn’t seen James asking her to dance coming.

However, Marinette had remained calm and cool.

It’s a pity, she was still such a klutz.

Suffice to say, Marinette wouldn’t be listening to Big Time Rush for a while. And James Diamond wouldn’t be asking strange girls to dance any time soon.

Santa gave her a punch right in the face.

…

She ran into Tom Holland the exact moment she got the hiccups. He did his best to help her get rid of them

…

Marinette had just stuffed an entire cupcake in her mouth when she realized Jennifer Lawrence was standing next to her. It wasn’t too bad. As the blond did the same thing a second later.

…

She pointed at Johnny Depp and said, “Jack Sparrow. You’re Jack Sparrow. Oh my god!!!”

To which he replied, “Captain Jack Sparrow.”

…

Suffice to say, Santa didn’t have Marinette on the robes anymore.

No, Marinette was on the floor; waiting for the referee to call it.

…

It was an hour until the official New Year. Fifteen minutes until Marinette was supposed to perform. She was backstage. Everyone was waiting for her. She promised Tim.

And she found that she just couldn’t do it.

The entire night was too much.

It was all too much.

It was over.

She had lost.

“Rough night?” Roy, her date and pretend boyfriend asked.

Marinette was sitting on a chair, her face in her hands, “You have no idea.”

Roy sat next to her, “Pretty exciting though right?” He didn’t get an answer. “Tim said you met Emma Watson, that had to be awesome.”

“It was embarrassing.”

Roy frowned, “Sabine told me you used to dress up as Hermione Granger all time. You’re saying meeting the Queen herself wasn’t even a little cool?”

Yeah, it had been amazing to meet her in person. “A little cool.”

Roy chuckled, “You met Harry Styles,” He reminded. “And from your blond bestie told me; my only real competition.”

Marinette giggled. “That had been… awesome.” And everything.

“You met Chris Hemsworth,” He added. “Tom Holland, Big Time Rush, and a bunch of other celebs that I’ve been told you were huge fans of. Yeah, you were a little embarrassed.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it; I’d be so psyched right now if I were you. So why aren’t you.”

Marinette paused.

Why wasn’t she?

Marinette had met people she never even dared to really hope she’d ever meet one day. She wore the most beautiful dress in her entire life; danced with Roy Queen and James Diamond. Joked with Harry Styles. Talked Emma Watson the actress who played the character she loved most out of all the books, tv shows, and movies she’d ever loved.

It was all a matter of perspective really. Marinette was so focused on the bad, she never even realized just how great it was. Santa had thrown the worst at her but was still there. She hadn’t run back to Wayne Manor no matter how much she had wanted to. She stayed strong.

At one point, she knew for certain that she wouldn’t just surrender; after the Chris Hemsworth incident. If Santa wanted to win, he was going to have to knock her out.

“Thanks, Roy,” She said. “I couldn’t wish for a better date.”

It was the most amazing night of her life.

And no one was going to make her feel otherwise.

Marinette stood up, determination on her face.

She had a song to sing.

…

Marinette stood on stage. The crowd looked up at her. Her hands were shaking. Her mouth felt dry. The lights were near blinding. She had changed the song at the last minute. The music was coming from her phone anyway.

Marinette knew the lyrics to the song by heart; had sung it a thousand times in her room to herself.

She could do this.

I will do this, Marinette swore.

The music started. It was her favorite song. And Marinette was going to sing it so loudly, so proudly; they could hear her in the North Pole.

“What if I told you

It was all meant to be

Would you believe me

Would you agree

It's almost that feelin'

That we've met before

So tell me that you don't think I'm crazy

When I tell you love has come and now.”

She was doing it. Marinette was really doing it. She always had a good voice. She had taken singing lessons for a long time. And her teachers always praised her talent. But after one terrible incident, she never thought she’d ever get on stage and sing in front of anyone again.

But there she was.

“A moment like this

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this

Some people search forever…

Honestly, Marinette could fall right on her face and it would stop the euphoric feeling coursing through. This was her victory song.

Jolly Saint Nick had thrown at her more than she ever thought she could take. But she was still standing.

And as long as she was, the big red guy would never win.

For that one special kiss

Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this…”

The music faded. The applause from the audience roared.

…

Marinette and Roy slow danced to something my Celine Dion neither could recognize. The New Year was less than two minutes away.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Roy smirked. He knew he was good at Pep talks to matter what Artemis said.

“I feel better,” Marinette admitted. “It’s been an awesome few weeks.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked as he twirled her around.

Marinette nodded, “Nearly Every. One. Of. My. Christmas wishes came true.” She tried not to growl. Positive outlook after.

“Santa must be out to get you.”

Marinette looked up at Roy with appreciation, “You have no idea.”

“Anything he didn’t get to?” The redhead asked. “Something you can do for yourself first?”

“Countdown to New Years in 10!”

Marinette thought about it for a second but she realized there was. There was one more thing on her list, that she added at the very beginning of Christmas.

“Yeah, there is.” She said. “Do you want to kiss me.”

Roy nodded earnestly.

The crowd counted down. “7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” And then Marinette kissed Roy.

Balloons came from above. Everyone cheered. But Marinette kept kissing Roy.

She always wanted a New Year’s kiss.

Take that and stick it up your chimney, Santa.

Marinette was officially the winner.

Nevertheless, there was always next year.

But for now, fuck Santa!

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #batfamily

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depressedacadamia · 3 years

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The Anatomy of the Sun- Chapter I

Edit- This is the first chap in a Percy Jackson/ Greys anatomy AU as well as my first fic! It’s going to follow the Grey’s anatomy plot behind the patients and the romances will be loosely based off it. I hope you do enjoy it! It was inpsired by @buoyantsaturn and their fic ‘Into you like a train’.

Summary: Dr Will Solace just transferred to the New York Presybetarian hospital to become their Head of Trauma. Dr Nico Di Angelo is a month fresh out of Med- school and is starting his internship at New York Presbytarian. Nico, excited to join his best friend and head of the neurology department- Percy Jackson, wants to prove that he is not just the legacy that his sister- Bianca Di Angelo, left. As the doctors battle to save lives, they also battle to save relationships- but some may say it's too late.

Chapter I- Work Work

Nico could feel his chest pounding as he drove. It wasn’t a good kind of pounding, not that there ever really is, but a -my heart is beating so damn fast - kind of pounding. Today was his first day at New York Presbytarian Hospital as an actual doctor. A surgeon. An intern.

He groaned as he remembered that he would basically be the servant of his bosses for the next year. He wished his sister was here- she’d tell him how awesome he’d be, all the cool parts of internship and how ‘the friends you make here are friends for life’. Nico wasn’t nervous about friends though- he had known the Head of Neuro, Percy Jackson, for almost his entire life. In fact, it had been Percy who inspired him to become a surgeon. Nico knew- As a surgeon, you either have what it takes to play or you don’t. Nico’s sister , Bianca, was one of the greats, Nico on the other hand was so screwed.

The first Nico noticed about the hospital was that it was very very bright. Maybe it wasn’t and Nico was panicking; it wouldn’t be so beyond him. He watched as several other cars pulled up with other newbies similar to himself. He noticed that some people had their own stethoscopes- would anybody notice that his was used? The stethoscope he wore had the initials B.D.A engraved into the side of the drum. Did it matter if someone noticed that his was old? He could easily afford a new one either way but he had wanted to wear his sister's one. He hoped it would bring him good luck because he had a good feeling that he was going to need it.

He walked into the Hospital where he was directed to a cleared Operating Room for the new interns who were having their introduction. He passed a group of attendings, all of whom he vaguely recognised but he noticed one in particular with curly blond hair. Of all the years he had tagged along with Percy to hang out at the hospital, he had never seen that dude- Why haven’t I seen him before?

“Every one of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors- Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you- say hello to your competition. 8 of you will switch to an easier speciality. 5 of you will crack under the pressure, 2 of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line- This is your arena. How do you play? That's up to you,” A man with long brown hair and greying roots dramatically explained. Nico realised that this was the Chief of Surgery- Chiron! Nico was surprised to learn that he still worked here after all these years. He recalled Bianca talking about Chiron who had been her mentor.

Nico looked around at what was his competition- as he thought, he was so screwed.

As he made his way into the locker room, some faces became familiar. He recalled some of these faces- the people he had met at the mixer. Nico decided to focus on work and not making friends; if someone spoke to him, he’d reply but he was not initiating any conversations. He had diagnosed himself with the overall dislike of humanity. Just as he was contemplating wearing his white coat, ( he remembered Bianca telling him that everyone knows that the doctors with the cleanest coats are the newbies and he did not want people noticing) the girl to his left with cropped brown hair and a determined expression tapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re Nico right? Which resident have you got?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m Nico and I’ve got Chase. What about you?”

“ Same. And it’s Meg.”

A guy from across the room turned around, excited to have something in common with others. His hair was short and blond but not the same colour as the new attending that Nico had noticed earlier. This guy's hair was almost a platinum kind of blond whereas the attending had golden hair- Like the colour of sunrise.

“You’ve got her too? So did I- You’re Nico, Nico Di Angelo right? I’m Jason Grace- we met at the mixer. You made a bold impression; black, skinny ripped jeans, Ramone T-shirt and skull rings despite the fact it was obviously a work event… Okay I’ll stop talking,” The man rushed out all at once.

“Grace, Mccaffrey, Di Angelo and June!” A voice called out into the locker room. Nico looked at what were supposed to be his future friends. If he was supposed to feel some sort of magical bond with them- he sure as hell was not. The girl in front (who Nico could only assume was Dr June) was almost hopping - okay, she’s a happy person, Avoid her at all costs- he put in a mental reminder. Nico watched as she approached the Blonde woman at the desk. Nico almost face palmed- Her surname was Chase- this had to be Percy’s girlfriend that he had been telling him about over the phone a while ago. June started talking only to be cut off.

“I’m Juniper June but most people just call me-”

“I have 5 rules, memorise them. Rule number 1- don’t bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change. Trauma protocol, phone list and pagers-” Annabeth pointed to the desk behind her. There lay 4 pagers which all the interns, including Nico, scrambled forward to grab.

“-Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run- you hear me? A run, Rule number 2- Your first shift starts now and lasts 48 hours. You’re interns, grunts, nobodies- bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop and don’t complain!” She called as she led them across the bridge and into the second section of the hospital. Nico, not being the tallest person, struggled slightly to keep up. They walked into a dark room that seemed to have bunk beds with thin mattresses and flimsy unmade covers.

“On call rooms- attendings hog them- sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to Rule number 3. If I’m sleeping, don’t wake me unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number 4- the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed a person, you would have woken me up for no good reason. We clear?”

Nico was clear but he also wasn’t. He doesn’t remember Bianca telling him any of these rules and he also didn’t recall hearing the 5th rule. Did she already say it when he wasn’t listening? He didn’t think so but he also didn’t want to look like an idiot. He decided to ask, if he was going to fail at this hospital, he might as well fail knowing everything there was to know.

“That's only 4 rules. You said there were 5.” Nico slid in between Meg and Dr Grace, his head only up to the bases of their necks. Just Nico said those words, he heard a beeping which he could only assume came from someone's pager. Annabeth immediately looked down, grabbing the pager she had tagged into her waist.

“Rule number 5- When I move, you move.”

Hour 1

Nico slipped on his gloves as he stood in the elevator with the other interns. The second he heard its ‘ping’ he rushed forward, eager to learn. The wind blasted into his eyes and immediately, Nico raised his hands to cover his face. His hair flopped about as the helicopter descended in front him. He raised his head slightly and saw the same golden haired attending that he had noticed earlier- Nico took a guess that he was the trauma surgeon. He followed Dr. Chase who ran forward and helped lift the stretcher out of the helicopter. Nico perked his ears up as he heard the trauma surgeon recite her history.

“Katie Bryce, 15 years old, female, new onset seizures- intermittent for the past week. IV lost en route- Started grand mal seizing as we descended,” He shouted over the loud roar of the engine. Crap, Grand mal seizures, really? God really thought lets give me a hard case. They rushed to get her inside and Nico was trying to not panic as he heard Dr. Chase command the staff like it was her own mini army.

“Put her on her side. 10 Milligrams of diazepam. No, the white lead is on the right. Righty whitey, smoke over fire. Give her a large bore IV, Don’t let the blood hemolyze.”

A different doctor walked in, his hair was black and cut short. His skin was a creamy white and Nico recognised the second language under ‘Doctor Zhang’ on his white coat to be chinese.

“Dr. Chase, what do we have?” He asked, flipping through her chart.

“Right now, nothing.”

“Okay, let's shotgun her.” He raised his hands and took a step backwards, allowing for the interns to continue their treatment.

“Okay, you heard the man. Shotgun means every test in the book- CT, CBC, Chem 7, Tox screen. Mccaffery- you’re running labs, Grace- patient work ups and Di Angelo- take her for a CT,” Dr. Chase ordered

“Um, Dr. Chase, I think you forgot me,” Juniper piped up meekly. Annabeth turned around and gave her a firm look before telling her,

“Honey, you’re doing rectal exams.”

Nico couldn’t tell if he should laugh at the poor intern or console her.

Each intern was busy. Extraordinarily busy. Nico did not expect the line for the CT machine to be so long. This was the best hospital in all of New York! You’d think they would be much faster but no, here Nico was with his patient who he had recently learnt, loved to talk… about herself.

“I’m missing my pageant,” Kaite whined.

“You’re missing your pageant?” Nico had to physically restrain himself from snorting. So that's what non- doctors and people with normal lives did. Things like going to pageants.

“Yeah! And I was super excited because the judges were getting to the talents for the pageant- Mine is rhythmic gymnastics. I sprained my ankle and fell when I was training but now I was soo ready but then...” she threw her arms up slightly signifying everything around them and Nico understood- she had a seizure which stopped her from competing.

“Katie Bryce’s labs came out clear, nothing in the results that would explain her seizures,” Meg informed Dr. Chase who was currently peeking her head out of a surgery. Dr. Chase nodded and was about to return to assisting on the procedure when Meg started talking again

“I heard that the attending picks the most promising intern on the first to perform a minor procedure.”

Dr. Chase looked anything but impressed.

“Go away,” she deadpanned as she closed the door in Meg’s face and returned to her surgery.

“It’s just what I heard!” Meg mumbled exasperatedly as she left the scrub room.

Hour 7

The cafeteria was full. One would think the hospital cafeteria would be stocked with healthy foods but in reality it was quite the opposite. It was stacked with a bunch of doctors telling you to eat healthy food as they stuffed their faces with pizza. The seating arrangements weren’t much different from a high school. You sit with who you know and avoid the ones in charge. Meg, Jason, Juniper and a group of other interns were all grouped together not too far away from the group of attendings and 3 residents.

“You know Nico is inbred.” Meg popped the fact onto the other interns.

“Like it’s uncommon to be related to a doctor, my sister is Dr Thalia Grace.”Jason pointed his thumb to the girl with jet back hair and array of ear piercings who was currently smiling wickedly.

“No like royally inbred, his sister is Bianca Di Angelo,” Meg insisted.

“Shut up! The Bianca Di Angelo?” Juniper joined in.

“Who is Bianca Di Angelo?” Jason, as clueless as ever, asked. The entire table exploded into whispers and gasps.

“Where do you live, under a rock? The angel method? Where do you think that came from?”

“She’s a living legend!”

“She’s won 2 harper Averies!”

“Talk about familial pressure.”

“Um, incoming Nico Di Angelo,” Jason tried to speak over the food in his mouth unsuccessfully. Luckily, the other interns looked in the direction of him and shut their mouths up in time. Nico, with his 3rd cup of coffee that day slumped into a chair and slammed his head onto the table.

“Katie Bryce is a pain in my ass. If I hadn’t taken the hippocratic oath, I’d kevorkian her with my bare hands,” Nico groaned. Juniper, eager to get his mind off an annoying patient chirped in,

“I heard Chase and Jackson were dating- A resident and an attending!”

“They are,” Nico confirmed as the interns stole glances at the attending and the resident together, surprised that Dr. Chase had the ability to laugh or smile.

“Who wants to go for an attending? Bet ya none of you can,” Meg poked fun at them.

“I bet ya I could do Solace, he’s new apparently,” Nico hummed as he peacefully sipped his coffee, closing his eyes to enjoy the smell that drifted into his nose.

“Meg, you wanna go for Valdez?” Juniper curiously poked.

“Nah, he’s only a resident and besides- He’s totally making eyes at Calypso. Letting a resident try to get into an attending pants is way more fun. I wanna see him fall into a hole.”

All of the interns stopped and turned to Meg, a slightly horrified look growing on their faces.

“Okay, now that Satan has stopped talking, who wants to put down their bets?” Jason beamed as Meg sneaked a quick punch to arm which had him cowering for a bit longer than necessary. The interns were all mucking about until a new voice joined the conversation.

“Hey! I just transferred to Chase’s service, I don’t really know anyon-”

“-Hazel?” Nico’s confused voice echoed and his eyes shot open at the recognition of the soft voice.

“Nico?” Hazel raised an eyebrow. They had both agreed to go to work in separate hospitals to limit family drama. Ever since they had found out they were related, the family tensions had been higher than ever. Nico had assumed Hazel would go to a different hospital and leave New York Presbyterian for him and it seems Hazel had assumed the same vice versa.

“You two know each other?” A voice, recognised as Meg, called out.

“I’m Doctor Hazel Levesque. Newest Surgical intern under Dr Chase.” She reached out and gave her hand to Meg who shook it firmly. She gave another hand shake to Jason and a nod to Nico- both of them had ignored Meg’s question.

“Final call, who’s going in?” Jason reminded them.

“Me- Solace is new, hot, probably clueless and he’s the new Head attending in trauma.” Nico slammed his hand onto the table, indicating he was all in. It was easy, right? Seduce him and then manipulate. It couldn’t be too hard.

Around 2 tables away from the interns, the attendings and residents were chatting away. Will, who had only recently joined the hospital, was still getting used to the way people behaved here. Everyone was so much more nice than he had expected. He remembered how people warned him about New York folks but in all honesty, Will would say that he was having a pretty good time, especially if the Di Angelo intern stayed in his eyeline-

“-Solace is eyeing the interns!” Percy’s excited voice cut into Will’s thoughts. Horrified, Will managed to sputter out,

“I am not eyeing the interns!”

“I like the newbie, she seems nice- better than the rest at least,”Frank mumbled about Hazel as he sipped at his hot tea. Piper to his left admitted,

“Blond one’s hot.”

“That blond one is my brother,” Thalia grunted.

“Why doesn’t anyone call me hot?” Leo pouted as he rolled up the other sleeve of his shirt calling the attention of Calypso’s eyes.

I’d totally call you hot , She thought.

She only glanced once.. Maybe twice… okay she was staring at him. But ever since Leo had become a resident, she kept on thinking they had to potential to become what.. Well, what Annabeth and Percy had become. Sure, she had rejected all his previous advances but she didn’t want to. She just didn’t think the timing was right- She was very aware that simply telling him the timing wasn’t right was a much more mature thing to do than acting bratty every time he spoke to her.

“Valdez, go make sure none of the pre-surgery kids aren’t sneaking pudding. There’s always bound to be one.” Dr Reyna Ramirez batted her hand towards her resident who gave her a mock salute before walking off. Calypso, unaware that everyone was watching, had her eyes glued to Leo.

“Calypso is totally checking out Valdez- Mother Hen Reyna watch out- Calypso is after your chicks,” Percy snickered making a joke to the fact that Leo was Reyna’s resident- before Piper smacked him on the back of the head indicating a Shut it, hypocrite.

“No I’m not!” Calypso insisted, whipping her head, that only moments ago was glued to Leo’s ass. She ducked her head and sided next to Piper and Will.

“Calypso eyeing Leo is old news, please make sure you keep yourself updated,” Annabeth proclaimed, her head resting against Percy while his arm was snaked around her waist.

“I will tell you what’s new then, Solace watching Nico like he’s fresh meat. That’s my bro that you’re checking out man.”

“I am NOT checking out Di Angelo!”

“Zhang, who are you picking for the procedure?” Annabeth curiously asked and also slightly eager to move away from the current topic. In all honesty, Annabeth expected Frank to choose Di Angelo- He was clearly the most promising and most experienced if one could even call an intern that. Annabeth knew that Percy and Nico had practically grown up together and besides he was a Di Angelo- Surely if his sister could cut, so could he.

“I’m gonna go with Grace.”

“He is not ready for that. Not to be a terrible sibling but he gets flustered a tad easily,” Thalia butted in, trying to protect her brother. She loved him but Jason was a tad sensitive and rustling his feathers was almost too easy.

“Torture one and the rest will fall in line,” Frank admitted half heartedly. He didn’t want to Pick on Jason- he seemed like a great kid, But he also didn’t want to have to have a bunch of misbehaving interns who had egos too big for the hospital because nobody ever put them in line.

“Are you sure about Grace though?” Annabeth pushed, her voice slightly uneasy. Percy, who noticed this, squeezed her waist gently as a gesture of comfort, affection even. Percy was watching Nico’s table. The interns seemed to be having fun, no one was picking on Nico which was the most important thing and he figured soon the interns would realise Nico’s infamy- of being a Di Angelo of course. What he totally didn’t expect however, was Nico to get out of his chair and casually stroll over towards the group of attendings and residents.

Nico honestly did not know what he was thinking. Was he being bold? Absolutely. Was he acting on impulse? Most obviously. Was he regretting every step towards them? Definitely.

He saw Percy’s eyes widen ever so slightly before his face rested into a comforting, genuine smile- something Nico truly appreciated. If Percy was acting nice, the rest of the group were bound to follow his lead, right? Nico shuffled past 2 of the attendings, reaching behind them to gain access to the coffee machine.

Will didn’t know how to react. Did interns normally come and hang out with attendings here? He had no idea. Percy looked as if he knew Nico all his life and he did tell him earlier; That's my bro you’re checking out man. Were they actually related? Or did they just know each other for a long time? By now, all the attendings were settled at their own tables and Piper had unfortunately been rushed off for emergency surgery on one of her patients, leaving Will to sit by himself at a table. That was until Nico was standing by one of the chairs.

Nico took a deep breath and stood by the chair at Will’s almost empty table. It had taken Will a couple of seconds to notice that there was someone even at his table before he almost jolted backwards, alarmed by the shadow that had appeared on his table. Immediately, out of politeness, he gestured towards a seat.

“Do you wanna take a seat?” He offered politely. He watched as the intern hesitated. He could see how nervous he seemed and for a minute he really pitied him- It was no doubt stressful to be the brother of a famous surgeon, especially a Di Angelo.

“Are you sure? I mean, aren't you an attending, ya know, my boss and-”

“-Calm down, it's just a seat,” Will cut off Nico’s rambling and offered the man a seat. Gingerly Nico took it and looked down at his coffee.

Nico did not think making Dr Solace treat him so nicely was going to be so easy. All he had to do was give a shy look away and blabber a bit and the next thing he knew, Dr. Solace had his hand on top of Nico’s and was shuffling his chair closer to his. Nico realised it was now or never- he had to start sending the right message.

“I’ve always found trauma interesting- ya know? Never knowing what's going to come into those doors. Percy used to tell me how much he hated it,” Nico laughed gently, making sure he accidentally brushed his leg against Dr Solace’s.

“Trauma? Really? Lucky for you, I just so happen to be the new attending on that.”

“I think I’m much more lucky than you think I am, if you catch my draft,” Nico mummuered, smirking slightly, his eyes dropping to Will's lips causing Will to finally get what he meant. Will, slightly flustered by Nico’s onset attitude, flushed pink slightly. He was flattered greatly that someone as good looking as Nico found him attractive but he didn’t want to cause commotion or draw so much attention to himself so early either. He wasn’t gonna lie, he totally was into Nico but Will knew that he could be putting Nico’s job at risk, not to mention his own. But it wasn’t as if Nico was using him- Nico seemed too innocent for that and besides- he was a Di Angelo, people respected him and the holy ground he walked on.

“If all goes well in your first surgery, feel free to send that draft out again.” Will winked as he got up and threw away the remains of his terrible lunch before heading to the table with the remaining attendings.

“Impress him with your loving, then impress him with your healing,” Will heard Percy whisper, which earned Percy a punch in the arm from Piper, a dirty look from Annabeth and snort from Frank. Will, slightly sick of Percy’s teasing, stormed off to the department at the entrance of the hospital which all the staff here called ‘The Pit’ for some reason. Percy, as clueless as ever was trying to remain a straight face and Frank was struggling to keep on being the mature one.

Hour 10

Nico was adequately proud of himself- he didn't flirt with people often ( mainly because normally it was people flirting with him) but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t slightly nervous when he was walking towards the room of Katie Bryce and saw a man and woman at the desk- Nico presumed they were married due to the wedding rings they wore.

“Katie Bryce, Room 3604?” Nico asked the couple. They nodded eagerly and the 3 adults had a quick conversation where Nico informed them that he wasn’t Katies actual doctor, but still was a doctor, and that he would go and find said doctor. Nico, who didn’t actually know who Katie’s doctor was now, had to verbally tell himself to not panic and he managed to figure out that he should ask Dr. Chase (he prayed she wasn’t sleeping). Luckily, Dr Chase was charting at the nurses station and when she heard his meek footsteps approaching, her head snapped up and she raised an eyebrow.

“Katie Bryce’s parents want to speak with the head on the case. Shall I page Dr. Zhang?”

“Dr Zhang? No, this patient belongs to Neuro now- Dr Jackson, he’s right around the corner.” Annabeth flicked her pen towards her boyfriend who was speaking to two other attendings- who Nico recognised to be Dr Mclean and Dr Ramirez. He waved over to Percy who smiled and dismissed the two doctors before making his way over to Nico and throwing his arm around Nico’s shoulders while ruffling his hair. Nico did not allow the gesture from anyone but felt comforted by it from Percy.

“Percy!” Nico almost squealed as Percy rubbed his knuckles into Nico’s head keeping him in a loose headlock.

“Death! I haven’t seen you in ages! How has it been?” Percy smiled as he began walking them towards the hallway. Nico cringed slightly from the nickname. Death was not something you want to be called at a hospital, especially if you were a doctor.

“Oh you know, Chase is tough but she knows what she’s doing.”

“She better, she learnt from the best,” Percy said proudly, pointing towards himself. Nico took this as an opportunity to lower Percy’s ego and asked

“Chiron?”

“You smug little-” Percy was cut off by Nico’s shrieks and protests to stop as Percy tickled him. Was it evil of Percy to tickle Nico? Perhaps, especially since he knew that Nico was one of the most ticklish people to ever exist.

Hour 15

Interns filtered into the viewing box above the operating room- they were all excited to watch one of them perform the first surgery. Jason, however, was terrified. He was muttering the basics of the procedure again and again as the crowd filtered in above him. If he made one mistake, everyone would see it, everyone would know and he would become the intern who couldn’t cut.

“Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close. Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close,” he muttered continuously, his eyes scrunched shut in fear.

Meanwhile, in the overhead viewing box, interns started placing bets. Sure, everyone was excited that an intern was assisting but they were also bitter. It would be a lie to tell you that no one in that room had thought that they should be down there operating room instead of Dr Grace. As Nico came in, he was slightly surprised to hear people making bets- sure, Jason had taken the surgery from them but betting? Was that really necessary? Especially since they were betting on his demise rather than him succeeding.

“30 dollars if he can’t open the peritoneum.”

“35 if he faints, he seems like a fainter.”

“40 says he kills the guy.”

“50 says he pulls off the whole thing,” Nico, who was sick of hearing the interns bet, cut in, “That's one of us in there- where’s your loyalty?” Nico had grown up with a loyal best friend- Percy- so if he valued anything in a person it was loyalty. He watched as poor Jason moved his lips, mumbling the procedure. He really hoped Jason didn’t butcher this- he had kind of put his trust in him over here. Jason turned to the nurses as they performed the time- out- reciting the patient's name, sex and other vital information such as the actual surgery- an appendectomy .

“Scalpel,” Jason ordered his hand reaching towards the nurse. As soon as it made contact with Jason’s hand, the interns went wild. The interns were cheering, clapping and whistling. It was official, Jason was the first intern to pick up a scalpel on a live patient. Even Nico joined in on the cheering, leaning back slightly in his seat and clapping- that was until Dr Zhang turned towards the interns and mimicked silence. The interns understood- Dr Grace does not need distractions.

“That Zhang is trouble,” Hazel muttered, biting her lip gently. Nico, trying to resist a smirk, leaned over and whispered,

“Hazel’s got a crush.”

Hazel, as chill as ever (sarcasm intended), pinched Nico’s arm making him flinch, pout and then rub gently at his slightly reddened flesh. Jason was trying to concentrate- he had never thought that one would have to apply so much pressure to cut into human flesh so of course, he hesitated a bit. However, once he was through, he started to find it a bit easier.

“Pickups…. Clamps,” he ordered.

“Dammit, he got through the peritoneum, I’m out,” the intern who betted on Jason admitted defeat as Jason continued.

“Scalpel….. And Appendix is out!”

Despite Dr Zhang's previous warnings, the interns went wild. Jason did it, he actually did it. Nico could see all the interns freaking out and while he was truly happy for Jason, he knew that he hadn’t finished. He had to close and celebrating too early may jinx him. Dr Zhang, who didn’t mind the interns celebrating, began to instruct Jason on his remaining steps.

“Now all you have to is insert the stump into the cecum and simultaneously pull the up on the purse strings, but be careful not to-” Frank was cut of by the distinct sound of sutures snapping- a sound which caused the silence of everyone and echoed

“- Break them,” Frank finished his sentence, sighing. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t expect this but he hoped that the intern would fix his mistake quickly. He watched as Jason struggled nervously. Jason himself didn’t even know what he had just done- all he could replay in his head was the snapping sound and the feeling of the suture breaking. The loss of tension in his hand as he accidently pulled too hard. Out of all the useful knowledge he had, it was that recent memory that just kept on replaying in Jason’s head.

“You’ve just ripped the cecum, you’ve got yourself a bleeder! What do you do now?” Dr Zhang tried to encourage him but it was no use. Nico watched as Jason froze.

Damn it Jason come on! Alas, Nico couldn’t help but think, Jason was like a deer in headlights- Bambi. Jason didn’t know how to react- what did he do now? He hadn’t considered the possibility if the sutures snapped.

“Think- You stop the suctions and start searching for those purse strings before he bleeds to death,” Dr Zhang instructed, his voice the only clear thing in the room other than the drastic beeping coming from the monitor. Nico could feel everybody in the room holding their breath- this moment was either going to make or break Jason.

“Give him a clamp,” Dr Zhang ordered.

“BP’s dropping,” a nurse warned. The interns watched with anxiety for their fellow intern- Jason was frozen, his hands stuck mid-air.

“BP is getting too low.”

Finally Dr Zhang had to make a decision and he held his hand out to the nurses,

“Move. Suction and Clamps.”

The interns all groaned, throwing their heads back or burying their heads between their hands. Money was passed around and Nico could only feel pity for the blond boy who looked like bambi in the operating room. As interns began to leave, people began to whisper.

“He’s a 007.”

“Yeah! Totally a 007.”

“What’s 007?” Juniper looked around, slightly confused. Nico, morbid as ever, kept his eyes trained on the surgeon operating as he told Juniper.

“License to kill.”

Hour 19

Jason sat in a wheelchair (that he most likely did not want to know where it had been) as he rolled the wheels back and forth complaining. He still couldn’t believe that he had frozen up like that. Not only that but he knew what the consequences of it was now.

“Everyone is calling me 007,” He complained, still embarrassed from his poor performance. Nico and Meg- both of whom were sick of his whining- answered at the same time.

“No one is calling you 007.”

“Really? A dude in the elevator whispered 007 and everyone started laughing!”

“007 is a state of mind,” Hazel called out as she waited by the old vending machine. It waited a bit too long for Hazel’s patience and thus she gave it a light kick to keep it going.

“Says the girl who finished first in her class at Stanford,” Jason retorted, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Nico was enjoying this mindless banter, it was the first break he had in a while and it was relaxing to be able to not have to think critically for once. Of course, because fate hated Nico in particular, Nico’s pager beeped causing him to groan and accidentally bang his head as he pulled out his pager, causing his eyes to widen.

“Ah, fuck. Someone is paging me 911 on Katie Bryce, gotta go!”

Nico hopped off the spare stretcher he was on and practically ran towards the stairs desperate to get the patient's room. As Nico left, he let out a small snort of laughter for he heard Jason mumble,

“I should have gone into geriatrics- nobody minds when you kill an old person.”

Nico gasped for air as he walked into room 3604 and saw a perfectly healthy and fine Kate Bryce. What the hell? Did she lose the ability to talk? Because that wasn’t a 911, that was a thank the gods. He looked around for any crash cart or indicator that there was actually anything wrong with her.

“There’s nothing wrong with you?” He panted, feeling his anger bubble up. Katie simply shrugged, twirling her platinum blond hair that looked dyed.

“I’m bored.”

Nico gasped and face palmed- he just could not with this girl! Would giving her an early death count as breaking the hippocratic oath? Man, he really wanted to punch Hippocrates- making doctors swear a damn oath on Apollo!

“This is a hospital, people are dying, people who actually require a doctor's help! Go to sleep,” Nico explained, his voice raising slightly due to the interruption of his very calming break- he considered hearing Jason complain better than any sort of time spent with this patient. Katie, however, did not want to comply with what was being asked of her.

“I can’t sleep, my heads all full!” Katie whined slightly, throwing her head back softly against the propped up pillows.

“That's called thinking, go with it, maybe you’ll learn something new.”

Hour 21

Annabeth was happy right now. In this moment as she and Percy lay snuggled up against each other cuddling in the on call rooms, Annabeth was happy. She had to catch up on her sleep and Percy was a neurosurgeon- his surgeries were tiring and required him to be well rested (something that never happened either way) for him to perform at his best ability. She could hear Percy’s heart thumping under her ear as she lay with her head on his chest and one of her legs thrown on top of his. The sound and vibrations were comforting, relaxing, easing her to sleep- she was happy.

Juniper did not feel so happy right now. She was standing at the nurses station staring at the on - call room that she knew Dr Chase to be in. As she stood by the nurses station, a nurse leaning on the desk asked her what she wanted.

“Mr Anderson has chunky veins, he needs antibiotics and I should start a central line,” Juniper admitted, looking away. The nurse, not even glancing up from his chart simply told her,

“Then start one…”

Juniper's silence told him what he needed to know.

“...And you don’t know how to. You know what that means.” The nurse nodded his head towards the on call room where Dr Chase resided. Juniper had to physically restrain herself to stop herself from shivering. She was about to break Rule 3. She peeked her head into the dark on call room where she initially thought she was about to accidentally become scarred for life. However, what she saw surprised her. Dr Chase was soundfully asleep next to Dr Jackson. Their arms were intertwined with each other and Dr Jackson had one arm wrapped around Dr Chase’s waist. They looked so peaceful, Juniper was so tempted to walk out and just let Mr Anderson get a nice trip to the morgue but she didn’t want to end up being called something like 007. She took a deep breath.

“Dr chase, I don’t mean to bother you-”

“-Then don’t,” Annabeth snapped. She did not want to leave Percy, he was so warm and she wanted her damned sleep.

“It’s Mr Anderson,” Juniper started explaining.

“Is he dying?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking to me.” Annabeth rolled over so that her back was towards Juniper. Juniper cleared her throat slightly which caused Percy to jerk his arm. Annabeth huffed, clearly agitated.

“Next time you wake me, he better be so close to dead, there’s a tag on his toe.”

Hour 23

Nico was walking towards Katye Bryce’s room once again to check in on her. Hopefully, she had taken his advice and was soundly asleep by now. Yet, as Nico approached her room, he saw nurses running in and out of it- Nico picked up his pace until it was a run as he got into the room. Immediately, the nurses briefed him on what was going on.

“She’s having multiple Grand Mal seizures, now, how do you want to proceed? Dr Di Angelo, are you listening? We’ve given her diazepam, 2 milligrams of Lorazepam- we just gave a second dose- Dr Di Angelo, you need to tell us what you want us to do!”

Nico was frozen. What in the name of Hades had happened while he was gone? He began to filter his thoughts-find out what's in her system and proceed from there.

“You gave her lorazepam?” he asked.

“Yep, 4 milligrams.”

“You’ve paged Chase and Jackson?” He pushed.

“Lorazepam isn’t working!”

“Phenobarbital, 2 milligrams,” He blurted, remembering the drug from a chemistry quiz he had gotten completely correct due to Bianca’s old notes.

“Heart’s stopped!” a nurse called out. Nico’s brain called out Code Blue, Code Blue! But his mouth could not move. What was he doing? He normally acted on immediately in emergency situations- they were practically his reflexes. He had to focus. He closed his eyes for a second.

Focus Nico, focus- this girl is literally dead.

His eyes snapped open- he was still panicking but now that he had a second to think, he had a vague idea of what to do.

“Okay, start compressions- grab the crash cart. Charge the pads to 200.” Nico turned his head towards the nurse operating the charge value on the defibrillator.

“Clear!”

Katie Bryce’s jolted upwards, but her heart did not return to normal. The nurse opposite to Nico continued compressions on her body while the other nurse held an ambu bag to her face, squeezing it every 5 seconds to provide air for her lungs.

“Still V-Fib, no change,” the nurse commented.

“Charge to 300.”

“27 seconds since the heart stopped,” another Nurse informed.

“Charge to 360, C’mon Katie. Clear!” Nico waited to see if her heart would react.

“ Okay, restarting compressions,” He ordered as he tried to think of the next step in running a code.

“49 seconds since the heart stopped.”

“Charge again, Clear!”

Everyone in the room waited anxiously as the monitor returned to beeping normally.

“Sinus Rhythm.”

A collective sigh of relief was let out as people started filtering out.

at the hell happened?” Percy asked as he speed walked into the room. He couldn’t help feeling a bit useless as he found his patient that was dying only seconds ago, alive and well- only it wasn’t him who had saved her, it was Dr Di Angelo.

“She had a seizure and her heart stopped,” Nico explained, sighing gently now that Percy was here.

“You were supposed to be monitoring her.” Percy turned around to face Nico. Nico was not expecting the accusatory tone- sure he wasn’t expecting clap on the back either but a Oh hey for keeping her alive while I took ages to show up would have been nice. Nico had known Percy all his life but despite that, he had never seen such a cold, turned off side of him. Was this how doctors or surgeons did their jobs? Become cold to everyone around them? Nico tried to explain himself- the key word there being tried.

“I-”

“-Just go, I’ve got her now.” Dr Jackson batted his hand and Nico was dismissed. Nico felt dismissed. Was this the life of an intern? Being blamed for every small inconvenience so the attendings can feel less guilt on their backs? Nico didn’t do anything wrong- he followed protocol, just as he had been told. He ran the code and continually paged Dr Chase and Dr Jackson. Them not showing up was the issue here, not him. He had saved her life. Not them.

Nico’s mind felt dead. He was 23 hours into a 48 hour shift and already, he was feeling the pressure. Too much pressure- was there a point to this? Was there a point to any of this? Nico dragged his feet across the floor, trying to find the exit.

“When you get a 911, you page me immediately. If someone dies, it’s on my ass. You hear me? Di Angelo?” Dr Chase raised an eyebrow at the intern who practically ignored them as they walked to the exit door, ignoring everything around them. The interns, Jason and Hazel both noticed his abnormally pale face and dazed expression. Hazel, being the concerned sister she was, followed Nico as he started to gain speed towards the exit.

“Nico, are you okay?”She reached her arm out but Nico made no notice of her. He could feel his stomach become more and more uneasy. He leant against a pole with one hand and quickly threw up his lunch. He placed both of his hands on his thighs, remaining hunched over and trying to catch his breath. As he walked back towards the hospital, intending to go and wash his mouth out, he caught Hazel walking towards him with concern drawn all over her face.

“If you ever tell anyone…” Nico trailed off as he walked past her, entering the hospital again.

Hour 26

“You said it was a seizure disorder, now you’re saying it isn’t?” Mr Bryce, Katie’s father, asked with slight confusion. He stood by his wife's side, both his hands on his hips in a confrontive manner.

“I’m saying that I don’t know. For now, I don’t have an answer for you. Now that Katie is stable-” Dr Jackson started explaining only to be cut off by the father.

“-We came here because this hospital is supposed to be the best in New York. That's my kid in there and you have the audacity to stand here and say I don’t know. I want someone else , a doctor that knows what they’re doing. A doctor better than you!”

“Mr Bryce, I can assure you that I’m working hard on Katie’s case-” Dr Jackson tried to keep himself calm. He was working hard but sometimes the body did things that science couldn’t explain. He was a doctor, a surgeon, not god.

“- No, you’re not. If you were, you’d be able to give me some answers.”

Percy decided to leave the couple before he said something to them that he’d regret.

Dr Zhang was a calm, collected and highly skillful surgeon. He knew what he was doing as he explained the surgery to Mr Savitch.

“I put you on the bypass machine, which pumps blood for your heart, fix your ticker, take you off the machine- I’m done. Simple procedure.”

His wife -who was clutching her husband's hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white- asked Dr Zhang with a slightly relieved voice,

“So I have no reason to worry?”

“I’m very good at what I do but it’s still surgery- there are still some risks. I’ll see you in the Operating Room this afternoon Mr Savitch.” Frank waved his hand goodbye to the couple and left while Dr Grace stayed behind to reassure the patient.

“Dr Zhang is very good, you’ll be fine,” Jason confirmed.

“He’ll be fine right?” Mrs Savitch urged again, wanting a guarantee. Her eyes screamed Tell me my husband will live. Jason could not understand how she was feeling but he sympathised for her. He wanted to help her, he reminded him of his mother, a woman who worried often.

“Tony’s gonna sail through it- You have nothing to worry about Gloria - I promise.”

Hour 30

Nico had no idea why he was here- in fact, he had no idea why any of the interns were here. They had all been called to the briefing room for a conference yet at no point had he been informed what exactly it was about. He glanced to his right to see Hazel holding sutures with a banana laying on her lap.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m suturing a banana with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain,” Hazel drawled her hand raising up to tighten the perfectly spaced sutures together- something Nico too had the talent for. Their heads both shot up as Dr Jackson, with Dr Chase beside him, walked in. Dr Solace also walked in, catching Nico’s eye as he leaned with his back on the door frame.

“I’m gonna do something pretty rare for a surgeon. I’m gonna ask interns for help. Katie Bryce right now is a mystery- she isn't responding to medication. All the tests are clean but she’s having seizures, Grand mal seizures and we don’t know why. I need you to help me out,” all the interns sighed as Percy explained this.

“I know you’re tired, I know you’re busy which is why I’m gonna give you an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Katie needs surgery- you get to do what no intern does. You get to scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure. Annabeth- I mean- Dr Chase will hand out the chart- The clock is ticking people. Let’s save a life,” Percy weakly smiled as he saw the eager interns scrambling for the files and gave Nico a wink as he left the room. Nico had to look down at his shoes to not blush- his crush on Percy had subsided years ago but what are you meant to do when people wink at you?

Will decided to tag along to the intern conference being held by Dr Jackson- he’d get a chance to see the interns working under incredible amounts of pressure and have a look at potential residents to take under his wing as trauma residents. At least, that's what he told himself. In reality, he had wanted to see the Italian doctor who had the guts to flirt with him and then invite him to bed. Was Will offended? Of course! Did this intern think he was that easy? While Will told himself that wasn’t easy, a small part of his subconscious told him that him showing up to the intern conference for one gorgeous man proved otherwise.

As Nico left the conference room, Hazel jogged to catch up with him- though Nico didn’t know why she was jogging, she had much longer legs than him.

“Hey, I want in on Jackson’s surgery- you've been the intern on her case since the start- you want to work together? If we find the answer, we have a 50/50 chance of scrubbing in ,” She offered.

“Sure, but I want in on the surgery.” Nico shrugged.

“So do I.”

“May the best surgeon scrub in,” Nico held out his hand for Hazel to shake. The game was on.

The locker room was full of several other interns- all of whom were re-reading Katie’s chart as if their lives depended on it. Hazel and Nico were hunched together by their lockers- which were co-incidentally placed next to each other. There were 6 empty cups of coffee- 4 were Hazels and 2 were Nico’s. Rainbow sweet strips, Nico’s pick of course, were also present- Hazel had to beg Nico for a pack as he had 3 to himself. Nico was so used to staying up for unnecessarily long hours that he didn’t need as much caffeine to keep himself acting like a live human being, unlike his sister.

“So she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis. It’s not a tumor because the CT was clean,” Hazel confirmed.

“What about infection?” Nico suggested as he savagely bit into a rainbow gummy strip, ripping it away from his face causing sugar sprinkles to fly everywhere. Hazel shot him a look as she brushed them off her scrubs.

“No , there’s no white count, she has no C.T lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap.”

“What about an aneurysm?”

“No blood on the C.T, no headaches, no drug use, no pregnancy, no trauma. Nico, what if this girl dies?”

“This is gonna sound really bad but I really wanted that surgery,” Nico confessed before continuing, “Her pageant talent is rhythmic gymnastics. What even is rhythmic gymnastics? I can’t even say it properly, I don’t know what it is!”

“Oh come on, they have pageant talents?” Hazel started snorting with laughter with Nico joining only a mere matter of seconds later. Rhythmic gymnastics- a totally odd and dangerous pageant talent. Why not go with knitting, there’s a less chance of falling.

A less chance of falling.

Nico’s brain raced- something about that was relevant- vital even. Why did that sound so important?

Nico shot up, grabbing his sister by the arm. He thought he knew what was wrong with Katie.

“Get up, come on. Come on!” Nico whisper- shouted as he grabbed Hazel who asked him what the hell he was on about. He told her about Katie’s fall during practise for rhythmic gymnastics when she had sprained her ankle- the chance of a small aneurysm to form.

“The only thing that she would possibly need is an angiogram,” Hazel realised as they both rushed out to find Dr Jackson. They found him in the elevator ,alone, and just as the door started closing, Hazel stuck her hand in the way of the door. Immediately she started talking.

“She has no headaches, no neck pain, her C.T is clean- there’s no medical proof of an aneurysm but what if she has one anyway?”

“How?” Percy questioned, slightly confused.

“You see she twisted her ankle and fell. Just a bump on her head. It was so minor that her primary care doctor didn’t think to mention it in her history but there's a chance, right, Perce?” Nico almost begged, using the childhood nickname he used to call Percy, that he used to call his best friend. That is what he was doing at that moment- asking for his best friend to listen, not Dr Jackson.

“You know there’s a one in a million chance of that, literally,” Percy sighed, shaking his head. The siblings hung their heads as the situations settled- their diagnosis was getting shut down or so they thought it was. The lift opened and there stood Percy smiling. He waved his hands, signalling them to follow him.

“Let's go find out if Katie is one in a million.”

Hazel and Nico were both silent as they waited in the cath lab- this was it for them. Either they become a pair of fools and Nico would tarnish the Di Angelo name or they get to be the first interns out of their year to assist on an advanced procedure. Percy stood with his arms folded, his black hair tousled and his jaw muscle ticking like crazy- Nico could also see that he was stressed although who for, Nico could not tell.

“I’ll be damned. It's minor but it’s there- a subarachnoid hemorrhage. She’s bleeding into her brain,” Percy gasped slightly as he pointed his pen to the small black blobs on the screen. As they left the Cath Lab, Hazel and Nico were ready. They wanted to know who was getting the surgery- sure, they had agreed that the best surgeon would win but secretly, they had both hoped that they’d both be able to scrub it.

“Uh, Dr Jackson, you said that the intern who brought the diagnosis would be able to scrub in,” Hazel gently reminded, her eyes hopeful and full of yearning.

“Unfortunately, I can’t have you both so Nico, you’re scrubbing in.”

Nico was over the moon- His first surgery was going to be with Percy and he was going to assist! However Hazel both looked and felt distraught. She knew she should feel more happy for her brother but she couldn’t help but feel a slight sliver of jealousy that he had only been chosen because Nico and Percy were childhood friends. As Nico turned around to apologise for her, he saw that she had already left without him.

Hour 34

Jason was in the scrub room waiting for Dr Zhang to finish up the surgery on Mr Savitch. Was he nervous? Of course, but he was also confident in Dr Zhang's skills as a surgeon. He was sipping a soda while charting, leaning with his back to the operating room- he didn’t want to get distracted by the surgery happening behind him. The door swung open with a Whack and Dr Zhang walked in, looking dejected.

“That was quick, wow!” Jason said admirably- he knew Dr Zhang was good, but he didn’t think he could complete a surgery like that so fast!

“He didn’t make it. His heart had too much damage to get him off bypass- I had to let him go. It’s rare but it happens. It’s the worst part of the game,” Frank confessed as he washed his hands and splashed water onto his face, making him feel slightly more alive. Unlike Jason who swore his extremities went numb.

This couldn’t be, right? Surely this was a prank- everyone would play a prank on him, he was the 007! He would walk into the operating room and see the nurses preparing to move him back to the ICU for post surgery care. Yes, yes that’s what this was- a whole prank. Dr Zhang was probably punishing him for almost killing a person in surgery and this was his equivalent of karma. Despite the idea, when Jason turned around, he regretted everything he saw. There was blood on the floor,the patient was still wide open, the heart monitor which was still attached to the patient showed no sign of cardiac activity. Jason could feel a lump in his throat, a lump that he just couldn’t swallow. Hos throat was dry and there were tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he attempted to speak.

“B..but I told his wife Gloria that he would be fine- I promised her tha-”

“You what? The only person who can give a promise like that is God and I haven’t seen him holding a scalpel lately. You never promise a patient's family a good outcome!”Frank, in a rare moment of no self control, lashed out. Jason, who realised his mistake, decided to leave Dr Zhang to mourn what he considered his failure and inform the family of their greatest loss.

Frank slumped over the sink in the scrub room, rubbing at his head. He had never failed something so simple, how did he not foresee this? His fists clenched and relaxed as his mind went over the events of the surgery- he had never felt so much like a failure in his life as he did in this moment right now.

As Jason approached the family, he could see their cheerful, happy faces, completely unaware of the soul- crashing news that he was about to bring them. Gloria ,who noticed him on instinct, immediately smiled wider- she thought she was going to go see her husband now. His kids had no idea what was about to happen to their lives. Jason still had the lump in his throat that was only getting bigger. He had to swallow several times which was a struggle because of his dry throat.

“How is he?” Gloria rushed her words out and it seemed she seemed more excited than nervous. Jason swallowed heavily before starting.

“Gloria, there were complications regarding your husband's surgery. Tony’s heart had a lot of damage. We tried to take him off bypass but- there wasn’t anything we could have done.”

Jason’s hands wrung back and forth as he struggled to keep his eyes from watering. He could feel them stinging as he fought back the tears of his betrayal

Gloria’s face scrunched up before slowly falling. Jason could see how her face slowly morphed from one of pure happiness to one of panic and distraught but Jason could also see the hope in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Gloria’s voice broke slightly, her lip curling.

“Tony died. He’s dead… Gloria, I am so sorry.” Jason reached out to comfort her, his hand reaching to stroke her back only for Gloria to completely flinch away from his touch. Betrayal illustrated her face and Jason couldn’t bear to continue looking her in the eye.

“Please, go away.”

Jason had undergone a lot of tough, painful situations to become a doctor and yet, this is what broke him.

Hour 40

Percy was shaving Katie’s head, watching the blond tufts of hair fall off her face. Nico walked in, smirking as he leant against the door. On noticing Nico’s presence, he began to whisper,

“I promised to give her a cool haircut. Apparently it’s a scandal to be a bald beauty queen.”

“Ah, well, I would totally pull it off..” Nico reached towards his hair and pushed it back slightly. Percy laughed slightly and nodded in agreement before they fell into a comfortable silence- the only sound being the buzzing from the electric razor. Nico watched Percy with admiration in eyes and Percy would look up at him every once in a while with a genuine smile that made his eyes crease.

Will was watching Percy and Nico hanging out in room 3604, an odd feeling of spite towards Percy starting to form. He didn’t know why- Percy had always been a good friend to him, helping him earn the respect of his peers. He watched as Nico watched Percy and suddenly felt the urge to accept Nico’s offer.

“I do hope that you aren’t staring at Di Angelo,” Leo walking up behind him commented dryly.

“Lover boy, you can’t really talk. Last time I checked, you seemed to be physically unable to keep your eyes off Calypso,” Will muttered in response. Leo gasped in mock offense before laughing.

“Awww, are you two sharing ‘we are going to single forever’ moment?” Piper cooed. Will grunted slightly - while Piper defended Will in public she totally teased him when there weren’t as many people and as for her and Leo- well they had known each other since they were teenagers.

“I’d like to escape the single lot, thank you for the offer though, pipes,” Frank sighed as he joined the group of them. His mood was still down due to losing his patient- he couldn’t help feel overwhelming guilt for not saving a patient with such an easy procedure.

Percy came out of the room, chatting away with Nico before he spotted the group of attendings who were all staring at them. He raised an eyebrow at all of them, especially since they weren’t trying to be subtle in any way.

“Yall, get back to work.”

The operating room was a tad warm. Or maybe that was Nico sweating due to his nervous nature. He couldn’t afford to screw up here, he had made it so far in only a few hours and had worked hard. Dr Jackson walked in with his trident and sea print scrub cap on his head before he looked around the room.

“All right everybody. Are we ready? Okay, Scalpel,” He held his hand out as he ordered a scalpel into his hand. Nico who was on his tip- toes to see what was going on for he was not sure if he could come any closer- neurosurgeons were scary people sometimes. Percy, who was ecstatic and in a great mood, gestured for Nico to come closer.

“Nico, come take a look. Your sister would absolutely love this,” Percy gushed and for once, Nico completely agreed as he looked at a live human brain.

Hour 48

It was finally time to head out. Nico was relieved- his eyeliner ,which was perfectly done the morning he came in, needed re-applying and he wanted to put his heeled boots back on. He was sick of everyone being taller than him. He was in the locker room after finishing the surgery and quickly he changed. He felt much better once he was back in his own clothes. Black ripped jeans, fingerless gloves, Ramone t-shirt and his beloved heeled boots. He stood in the mirror finishing off his eyeliner as Hazel walked in.

“We don’t have to do the thing where I say something and then you do and then somebody cries and then there’s a moment-” she started

“Yuck,” Nico cut in. Hazel smiled ever so slightly but Nico noticed it, causing him to attempt to repress a smile. The key word there being attempt.

“Good.”

Nico was looking for Percy- he wanted to thank him for the amazing surgery and for picking him to scrub in. He was about to enter the on call room that he assumed Percy to be in when he accidentally walked into someone. That someone just so happened to be Dr Solace. Except he was shirtless.

Why the fuck was he shirtless? Is there someone in there with him? Oh my god, was I hitting on a straight dude?

“Ah, sorry about that. I was changing when I realised my clean clothes were in my locker,” Will confessed sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. But Nico wasn’t really paying attention to anything that came out his mouth but rather his lips. Wait, why was he shirtless again? Nico had an internal panic for about 2 seconds before he pulled himself together and remembered his objective around Dr Solace.

“If I’m correct Solace, that surgery went very well,” Nico smirked.

If your first surgery goes well, then feel free to send that draft out again.

Nice one Nico, you got this.

Will opened his mouth, slightly in shock that Nico had still remembered that by now- sure it was 41 hours ago but most interns just wanted to sleep by now. But This was a Di Angelo he was talking about- surgery ran in their blood.

“Well congratulations. I caught the draft. What are you going to do about it, Di Aneglo?” Will challenged quite confidently, Nico’s surname rolling off his tongue. Nico started walking towards him, backing him into the oncall room. The second they were both in there, Nico’s hand reached behind him and locked the door with a flick of his wrist.

“Copy me,” Nico told Will. He raised one of his arms and then the other, watching as Will copied, slightly confused by the random motion. He then put both his hands together above his head and the second Will copied, Nico pinned Will’s hands above his head with a single hand and smiled wickedly. Will, adequately impressed, leaned his head forward to kiss Nico who obliged.

Explosions.

That's what Nico felt. He wasn’t expecting Will to be such a good kisser. The kiss was soft at first, their breath dancing across each other's lips but became more heated as Will tried to shift his hands out of Nico’s reach. Nico, being stubborn as he was, refused. Will bit Nico’s lip gingerly, teasing him as he pulled his lip back slightly between his teeth- the second Nico groaned gently, Will used all the momentum he had to flip them and press Nico against the door, holding one of his wrists in his hand. He reached to grab the other and hold it above Nico’s head as their lips smashed. When Will finally pulled back for air, he started making light butterfly kisses onto Nico’s jawline, making his way down to Nico’s neck. He gently sank his teeth and lightly sucked on the flesh there, making Nico throw his head back and let out a light moan.

Nico decided that he could thank Percy for the surgery later.

Hazel was waiting for Nico. She was outside the hospital and was watching as all the other interns were leaving and finally he arrived. His clothes were a mess- crumpled, his t- shirt was completely inside out and there was a bruise on his neck. Hazel had no idea what had happened and honestly, she didn’t want to. Nico waved to her, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

“Finally! Gosh, we need to go if you want to get there on time!” Hazel fussed.

Annabeth and Percy were holding hands as they chatted away with Piper and Reyna- their faces all in an animated conversation despite being awake for 48 hours.

“And then I totally clipped that aneurysm,” Percy boasted, swinging Annabeth's hand up in the air with his.

Frank was meant to be paying attention to the conversation he was supposed to be having with Leo- who was excitedly talking about the life saving surgery that he did with Calypso as the Peds and OB department had to team up for that case. However, Frank was actually looking at Hazel as he started telling off Nico for the smoking near a hospital.

“It was a really cool case- the mother was teen in the third trimester which meant Peds had to work with OB. The baby had a tight nuchal cord so the delivery had to be performed by C- section so we could safely clamp and cut off the umbilical cord,” Leo ranted.

Thalia was rustling the blond hair of her younger brother as they got into a car, talking about their days.

“Who cares, 007 was totally badass!” Thalia told her brother as she started the car. Piper waved goodbye to Percy, Annabeth and Reyna, and leaned against one of stumps while she waited for Will. When Will finally arrived, his hair was an absolute mess and he had a few buttons of his shirt undone which gave view for a bruise blooming on his collarbone. Piper decided not to make much comment of it as they both started walking away. Will turned his head to see Nico one more time, only to see him laughing and kissing the head of a girl with dark skin and beautiful curly hair. Terror and unease immediately set within him.

Did I just help him cheat on his girlfriend?

Will decided to push the thought to the back of his mind as he left the hospital.

Nico was stalling. He knew it and so did Hazel. She had pulled up at the nursing home but he was still drumming his fingers on his lap as he sat in the car. After 10 minutes of pure silence, Nico got out of the car, the only sound made being the soft closing of the car door. He walked up the steps before entering the home. It was well lit, elegant and classy- he knew if Bianca was lucid that she’d love it here. He walked towards the window seat, knowing that she always loved to sit there. He took a gentle seat next to her, waiting for her to notice him nearby. When she finally acknowledged him, she looked at him and up and down, slightly confused.

“Are you the doctor?”Bianca asked, her eyes wide.

“No, I’m not your doctor but I am a doctor,” Nico attempted a smile but it failed with corners of his lips falling slightly. Biance wrung her hands back and forth, fidgeting with them subconsciously. The nails that used to be flawless were now chipped and bitten at.

“What's your name?”she turned her head towards him, tilting it slightly as she looked her brother in the eye.

“It’s me, sis. It’s Nico,” He said half heartedly, his voice cracking as his eyes followed hers, trying to somehow get to her lucid mind. He saw her eyes. He saw her how they looked at him, how she didn’t recognise him. Her eyes, they weren’t the same golden brown that gleamed, they were glossy- as if there were clouds covering the clear sky.

“I think I used to be a doctor,” Bianca mused as she continued to rub her hands aggressively. Nico reached out to stop her, hoping she wouldn't flinch or become aggressive. He held her hand in his, enveloping his hand over hers and she accepted the gesture. Just for a second, Nico could see his sister again.

“You were a doctor. You were a surgeon.”

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iamtrebleclefstories · 3 years

Text

maybe it’s wrong to say I love you - part two

Part Two: Home

people I’ve loved, I’ve had no regrets... some I remember, some I forget...

So... this monstrosity of a fic was supposed to be a miniseries, but it’s obviously evolved into this giant. Hope you enjoy it and let me know what think and what you hope to see next!

If you haven’t read Part One, you can find it here!

p.s - You might wanna get the tissues out for this one

TW: Mentions of suicide, self-harm, and abuse

Part Two: Home

-Wish I were with you, but I couldn't stay-

-Every direction leads me away-

Leaving Seattle was probably one of the most difficult decisions Jo had ever made. And that was coming from someone who’d lived through some really crappy things in her twenty-eight years of life. When she turned her resignation into Webber, he did everything in his power to get her to stick around. He pointed out that it was kind of ridiculous to just up and leave one of the best residency programs in the country because of a guy. Normally, she’d agree. She’s worked way too damn hard in her life for it to come to this. But Alex wasn’t just a guy. He was her person. He was her family. And sometimes you needed to sacrifice things in order to keep your family safe and happy.

When Webber realized that Jo was not going to change her mind about moving, he offered to put her in contact with an old colleague who was the chief of surgery at a hospital on the east coast. That’s how she ended up on a six and a half hour flight from Seattle to Florida. She started working at the Jacksonville branch of Mayo Clinic about a week later.

It was different. Very different from Seattle. It was hot and humid all the time. Sure the beaches were nice, but Jo didn’t think she’d ever lived somewhere so unbearably hot in her entire life. Something that was nice though was the rain. Because even though Florida was nicknamed the Sunshine State, she felt like it was constantly raining. It reminded her of Seattle. It reminded her of home.

Months passed and Jo felt like she was finally starting to heal, albeit very slowly. But she was healing nonetheless. She could go an entire day without even thinking about Alex Karev and how he was probably living it up with his wife. Sure, those days also just so happened to be days where Jo literally did not have the time to think of him, but she was grateful for the slight reprieve that work had given her over the constant influx of painful memories.

By the time the end of her third year of residency was coming to a close, she thought she’d finally done it. She made it an entire week without crying over Alex and everything that they had lost. She was proud of herself. So proud, that she thought maybe she could try to move on and start dating again.

She was on her first date post-Alex when she saw the news on the bar television. Mass shooting at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. Multiple lives lost, many injured, including some of the doctors and staff.

Jo felt absolutely sick to her stomach. She excused herself from her date and rushed back over to her apartment and searched for the little black book where she’d written down the phone numbers of all her friends before throwing out her old phone and getting a new number. She found it and shakily dialed the first number she saw—Meredith’s—and prayed that someone on the other line would answer.

“Hello?” A tired voice croaked.

“Mer?”

“Jo? Is that you?”

Jo let out a sigh of relief, “Oh my God. I saw the news. Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” There was a sob on the other end of the line, making Jo’s heart beat wildly against her chest. “Meredith, what happened?”

“It was horrible,” Meredith cried, her sniffles being heard from Jo’s end of the call. Jo waited patiently for Meredith to calm herself enough to inform her of what happened. “Today was the worst day of my life.”

“Did anyone we know—“

“Yes,” Meredith stated quietly. “Derek was shot in the heart and almost died. Cristina saved him, though. The doctors are optimistic. Owen got shot in the arm. I lost my baby—“

“You were pregnant?” Jo’s eyes began to water.

“Yeah,” Meredith whimpered. “I had a miscarriage today.”

“Mer, I’m so sorry,” Jo felt a couple tears escape her eyes. “What about everyone else?”

“Bailey watched someone die in her arms,” Meredith shared. “His name was Charles. He was a resident. He was new, but not so bad. This other girl named Reed died. So did a couple nurses and security guards. No kids, though. Lexie is okay. Mark is okay. Arizona and Callie are okay.”

“Mer, you haven’t said anything about Alex. Why aren’t you saying anything about Alex?” Jo’s heart hammered inside her rib cage. There was silence coming from Meredith’s side of the call. “Meredith. Please. Tell me he isn’t dead.”

“He isn’t dead,” Meredith stated. “But I’m not completely sure he’s going to live.”

Jo heard the sob before she registered it was hers, “What happened?”

“He was shot in the chest,” Meredith’s voice quivered a bit. “Lexie and Mark found him, but by the time they found him he’d already lost so much blood. They put in a chest tube and tried to do as much as they could in the conference room on the fourth floor. But he hasn’t woken up yet. Someone needs to make some decisions regarding his care. The bullet ripped through his lung. They need to figure out whether they’re gonna take him back into surgery or just hope he makes it through the night.”

“Oh God,” Jo felt the tears stream down her face. She took a couple deep breaths. “Okay. Okay. What’s Izzie going to have them do?”

“Jo, Izzie isn’t the one who’s going to make those decisions,” Meredith said cautiously.

“What do you mean? She’s his wife isn’t she? What is she going to have them do?”

“You don’t know?” Meredith asked.

“Don’t know what?” Jo shook her head. She couldn’t figure out why Meredith sounded so weird.

“Um, nothing… it’s just… we were looking at Alex’s medical forms and you’re Alex’s power of attorney.”

“What?” Jo’s eyes widened. “Why me? Why not Izzie?”

“I guess he trusted that you’d make the right decisions,” Meredith paused. “You don’t have to come. I know it might be too hard for you.”

“No. No, I’ll come,” Jo decided and began to quickly pack an overnight bag. “I’m coming right now.”

Less than ten hours later, Jo was standing outside of Alex’s hospital room standing next to Meredith and Cristina as she spoke to the doctors about Alex’s health. After deciding the best course of treatment, Jo turned to look at her friends, “Where is Izzie?”

The two women exchanged a look. Cristina let out a sigh, “She’s visiting her mom. I don’t know if she knows.”

“Oh,” Jo nodded. “Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t see him like this.”

“Jo, you know that Izzie and Alex got—“Meredith started, quickly being interrupted by Jo.

“No, you know what? I don’t need to know,” Jo shook her head. “The one thing that coming here has taught me is that I’m still in love with him and that means I can’t be here. I can’t hear about his relationship with Izzie. Not today at least. Maybe in a few years when I’m over him and I don’t cry at the thought of him being with someone else, but not today.”

“But Jo, they’re—“ Cristina tried to get a word in.

“No. It’s okay,” Jo stuck her hand out, signaling Cristina to stop talking. “I did what I had to do and I’m going back. Don’t tell him that I was here or that you have my phone number. Please. I love you guys, but I need to leave.”

Her friends nodded and wrapped her in an uncharacteristic hug. Mer whispered in her ear, “Be safe. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Goodbye.”

————

-Just looking for shelter from the cold and the pain-

-Someone to cover, safe from the rain-

Jo kept in contact with Meredith. The months following the shooting were difficult ones and Jo would often hear her phone ringing as Meredith called or texted her various updates regarding everyone’s lives. Everyone except Alex’s life. Jo was clear that she didn’t want to know what was going on in his life and perfect marriage with Izzie other than the fact that he was doing okay and thinking about specializing in peds apparently.

She was about four or five months into her fourth year of residency when Jo was given an invitation to attend a medical conference in Orlando. Jo called Meredith immediately after and suggested she take a few days off to come attend the conference with her.

“Jo I’d love to. Let me talk to the chief and see if I can get a few days off to visit you,” Meredith replied.

About a week and a half later, Jo was picking Meredith up at the Orlando International Airport, “Mer!”

“Jo!” The women embraced and Jo helped Meredith stuff her bags into the trunk of the car as they drove over to the hotel where the conference was being held.

“How are you? How is everyone?” Jo asked.

“We’re getting there. Things still aren’t as good as they could be,” Meredith shrugged. “Cristina got married.”

“She what?” Jo’s eyes widened. “To Hunt?”

“Yup,” Meredith nodded. “She isn’t doing surgery right now either. I tried to convince her to come with me, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Jo sighed, “I wish I could see her and literally slap some sense into her.”

“You might be the only person who’d be successful at getting her to feel something,” Meredith chuckled. “It’s not the same without you there, Jo. Everything is so… boring and dull.”

“Boring and dull might just be the last thing you call Seattle Grace,” Jo wrinkled her face in amusement. “Especially since Mark Sloan got Callie pregnant. Poor Lexie.”

“I know,” Meredith shook her head. She stood quiet for a moment before speaking. “Don’t you ever miss it? Home?”

“Every day,” Jo answered. “Sure, I have some acquaintances, but it isn’t the same.”

“So why don’t you come back?”

“You know why,” Jo gave Meredith a pointed look.

“But the reasons--”

“Mer, stop. I told you I don’t want to know about him and Izzie,” Jo shook her head.

“If you’d just let me talk you’d find out that things aren’t as perfect as you think they are,” Meredith crossed her arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jo took a deep breath. “No one, in the history of my life has ever loved me and hurt me more than Alex. And if I want to keep loving him and not hating him for making me love him, then I can't know about his personal life. I can’t.”

“Okay. We won’t talk about Alex anymore,” Meredith sighed. What she’d been trying to tell Jo was that Alex and Izzie had gotten divorced over a year ago and in an effort to cover the pain of losing the two women he loved, he’d reverted back to his days as a diseased man-whore. But Jo wasn’t having it.

The first two days of the conference were fun and informative. Jo and Meredith used the time they weren’t in sessions to get some much needed rest. The third day of the conference Jo and Meredith were getting ready to walk in when Jo saw him. She knew immediately who it was as soon as she saw the back of his head. She’d never forget that man as long as she lived.

Meredith must’ve realized how Jo went pale and started to tremble because she placed her hand lightly on Jo’s arm in concern, “Jo. Are you feeling okay? What’s wrong?”

“I⎯I have to get out of here,” Jo grasped Meredith’s arm tightly. “Mer, I need you to get me out of here right now.”

“Okay,” Meredith pulled Jo out of the hotel conference room and into the lobby where Jo finally let out a cry, startling Meredith. “Jo, what’s going on? I need you to talk to me.”

Jo had begun hyperventilating at some point and was struggling to catch her breath as she saw his name on the speaker schedule for the day on the poster outside of conference room doors. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it before. She didn’t know how she could’ve missed it. Why was he here? Had he found her? Did he know she was in Florida?

“Jo!”

“Huh?” Jo turned to Meredith with scared eyes.

“Jo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You begged me to get you out of that room. What happened?”

“I⎯I’m married.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m married to a man who almost beat me to death. I ran away from him eight years ago and never divorced him because I was afraid he’d come find me and kill me,” Jo shared, body shaking in fear.

“Does Alex know?” Meredith asked, brows furrowed.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever told,” Jo nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He knows everything. About Paul, the abortion, how I ran away and changed my name. Jo Wilson isn't even my real name.”

Meredith wrapped Jo in a tight hug, “You’re okay. I’m here and I’m not leaving you alone. Not for one second.”

They found out that Paul lived in Florida, Orlando, specifically and had been working at Orlando Medical Group for the past five years. He was a speaker at the conference and would be giving a presentation on minimally invasive surgery techniques. They’d been in their hotel room for a few minutes when Jo finally spoke again.

“Meredith, what if he sees me? What if he comes to hurt me?” Fear etched on Jo’s face. “He’s here. He’s here and I don’t even have Al—I don’t have anyone.”

“Do you want me to call him?”

“No.”

“Jo, let me call him. Please,” Meredith squeezed one of Jo’s hands. “He’s going to want to be here with you. He misses you. He still loves you.”

“Meredith, stop,” Jo looked up at the ceiling. “If Alex were here he’d just do something stupid and get himself killed or wind up in jail or the hospital and I refuse to put him through that.”

“Okay,” Meredith sighed. “But you are not alone. You have me and we’re going to find a great lawyer who’s going to get you a restraining order and a divorce, because no one should be tied to a man like that. And I will stay here as long as I need to, to make that happen.”

——————

-The echoes and silence, patience and grace-

-All of these moments I'll never replace-

Realistically, Meredith couldn’t stay with Jo the entire time it would take her to process her divorce. The next few months after submitting the request for the dissolution of marriage were full of Jo looking over her shoulder practically every minute of every day.

It was on a Tuesday in February when it happened. She’s just got out of a surgery with Dr. Baker, their chief of surgery when she heard the most chilling sound.

“Hi Brooke. Or should I say Jo? It is Jo now, isn’t it?”

Jo turned around slowly to face him, eyes flitting over to Dr. Baker who seemed to be watching with concern, “Paul. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just checking up on my wife,” Paul sneered. “A wife I had not seen in eight years, so imagine my surprise when my lawyer presented me with divorce papers that my wife had filed not long before and that a court date has been set a month from today.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jo glared at him. “I have a restraining order. It’s all supposed to go through the courts. We aren’t supposed to have any contact with each other.”

“I know,” Paul flashed her a disarming smile. “I just couldn’t resist coming to pay you a visit. Especially when I found out that you were living in the same state.”

“You need to leave before I call security,” Jo stood her ground. “You are not supposed to be anywhere near me, so you need to leave and go home.”

“No… you know, I don’t think I will,” Paul answered, his menacing grin sending her heart beating wildly. “I think I’ll stick around and—“

“Is there a problem here?” Dr. Baker stood behind Paul, arms crossed as he took in the man’s tall frame.

“No sir there’s no—“

“Yes,” Jo looked at Dr. Baker and nodded. “Yes there is a problem. This man is my husband whom I am in the process of divorcing. I have a restraining order on him and he is not allowed to be within a thousand feet of me.”

“Sir, I am going to need you to leave the premises immediately,” Dr. Baker pointed towards the exit. “Remove yourself or you shall be removed. And if I hear or see that you are anywhere on or near hospital grounds, I will not hesitate to call security.”

“Fine. I’ll leave,” Paul sent Jo an angry scowl. “But just so you know, you better watch your back. I have no plans on making this easy for you. I’ll see you in court.”

Jo watched as Paul walked out of the hospital and waited until he was out of sight before crumbling onto the floor. Dr. Baker kneeled down beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Is there anyone you like me to call for you? I know you used to work with Dr. Webber in Seattle. Would you like me to call him?”

“No,” Jo shook her head. “No it’s okay. I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.”

“Wilson,” Dr. Baker’s stern voice warned. “You should not be doing this alone. And you definitely should not be staying in your apartment alone. If you aren’t going to call anyone to come be with you, then you should let us help you. Why don’t you stay with my wife and I for a few days until we know he’s gone?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be,” Dr. Baker shook his head. The older gentleman was not taking no for an answer. “Stay with Lisa and I. Just for a few days. Until Friday.”

Jo sighed, “Okay, fine. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Dr. Baker squeezed her shoulder lightly. “I’ll have my assistant give you my address so you can head over there as soon as your shift is over today.”

Jo thanked him again and watched as her chief walked away, leaving her in the hallway alone. Jo searched around for the nearest on-call room and reached into her pocket for her phone, dialing a number as soon as she walked inside.

“Hello?”

“Mer?”

“Jo? Hi. What’s going on?” Meredith answered, the sound of the hospital buzzing in the background.

“He came, Meredith. My husband? He came and found me. He was here. He came to the hospital,” Jo felt her body shake as she recounted the day’s events.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Meredith asked frantically.

“No he didn’t hurt me. But he threatened me. I think,” Jo shrugged.

“What do you mean you think he threatened you? Jo, he’s not even supposed to be within a thousand feet of you. We made sure of that.”

“He told me to watch my back. He said he wasn’t going to make this easy for me,” Jo sniffled and wiped a couple straying tears.

“Jo, I think it’s time to tell Alex.”

“No. No, Mer we can’t tell him. He doesn't deserve to get caught up in my mess. It’s my mess. I’ll deal with it.”

“Don’t be stupid. Don’t play the martyr.”

“This isn’t about me playing a martyr Mer,” Jo huffed.

“Then what is it? Because I’m not understanding.”

“He didn’t choose me!” Jo exclaimed. “That day he told me that he was going to marry Izzie, I told him that I’d do it. I’d divorce Paul. If he wanted to be committed, if he wanted to be married, that I’d get a divorce. Even though I was terrified of this exact thing happening, I was willing to do it for him. I was willing to put it all on the line to just be with him and he still chose her. He chose Izzie. And I can’t get over that Mer. I can’t get over the fact that the one person that I love more than anything in this world, saw that I was willing to give it all up for him, and still didn’t choose me.”

“Derek chose Addison, and now look. Addison is in LA and Derek and I are married.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Jo sighed, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Derek was married before you two met and fell in love. Addison cheated on him with his best friend. He chose her out of commitment and loyalty to his marriage. Alex didn’t do that. Alex chose Izzie because he wanted to, knowing that he had the option of marrying me. After promising me over and over again for the better part of a year that he’d wait for me and telling me that he loved me and only wanted to be with me. It’s different.”

“Is it though?” Meredith asked. “Because at the end of the day, both of them chose women they didn’t truly love. And both of them suffered because of it.” There was silence on the other line for a moment before Meredith spoke up again, “Look, at the end of the day it’s your decision. But I think you should know that he still talks about you. At the most random moments, too. They’ll serve hotdogs in the cafeteria and he’ll comment how you hated the hotdogs they’d serve. Or we’ll be passing by a patient and their family and he’ll mention how you used to have the same scarf as the woman in the group. Or when he’s talking to a kid and they tell him that their favorite color is blue, he’ll say ‘that’s my best friend’s favorite color too.’ Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of you, Jo. Just think about it.”

“We’ll see,” Jo let out a breath. “I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Please be safe, Jo. Goodbye.”

After hanging up the phone, Jo buried herself in her work until it was time to leave. She drove over to Chief Baker’s house and was welcomed in with open arms and a hot meal on the stove. The few days she stood there were nice. Dr. and Mrs. Baker had been married for thirty-seven years and had two children and five grandchildren. Mrs. Baker—who insisted on being called Lisa—was actually a nurse practitioner that had tons of experience working with ICU and CCU patients.

For the first time in a long time, Jo felt like she had people. The Baker residence was warm and welcoming and nothing like the many homes she grew up in as a child. The Bakers cared. Maybe that’s why she found herself opening up to them about her past and why she was hiding from Paul in the first place. Along with their help and some digging done by their daughter who was a private detective, Jo was able to find enough information on Paul to give her lawyer to put together a strong case that would ensure that Jo was granted all of the conditions of the divorce she sought after, mainly that Paul would not be able come near her and hurt her after the trial was over.

On the day of the trial, Jo was absolutely terrified. She was about to confront her abuser in court and did not know how to handle the nerves coursing through her. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry and run away and never look back. She wanted to change her name again so that Paul would never be able to find her.

But that was the easy way out. She’s done enough running in her life to know that fleeing never truly solved anything either. It only made things painful. Still, Jo couldn’t shake the nerves she was feeling coursing through her. For the first time since this process began, she cursed her stubbornness for making her feel like she had to go through this alone.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jo spotted something that caught her attention. It was an old pay phone, much like ones that she hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Jo walked up to it and searched around her purse for some coins to get the phone to start. As soon as it did, she found herself punching in the phone number she knew so well and waited as it dialed.

“Hello?”

Jo let out the tiniest sob, “Alex.”

“Jo? Jo! Oh my God, is that you? Are you okay? Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

Jo’s sobs grew louder and stronger as she heard his worried voice on the other line.

“Jo, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

Jo placed a hand over her mouth and attempted to quiet her cries, “No, I’m okay. I just… I really needed to hear your voice... I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Alex breathed out. Even though she couldn’t see him, Jo could picture Alex’s face scrunched in sadness and worry. “Please come home.”

“I can’t,” Jo shook her head. “I, um, I’m doing something today. Something that I probably should’ve done a long time ago. I almost chickened out, too. But, I know I need to be brave. And I need to be strong. Anyway, I just wanted to hear your voice one last time before I go through it. You make me brave.”

“Go through with what? Jo, don’t do anything stupid. Please. I know I hurt you and I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, I need you safe. Wherever you are. So, if you’re gonna⎯”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be,” Jo felt a few tears run down her face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed back then.”

“All I needed was you. That’s still all I need.”

“I wish that were true,” Jo whispered and wiped her face. “You probably won’t hear from me after this. I wish things were different, but they’re not.” She paused. “I love you. Goodbye.”

Jo hung up the phone quickly and took a deep breath, running her sweaty palms along the skirt of her dress in hopes of calming some of her nerves. She knew now what she had to do. She had to step into that courthouse and break things off with Paul once and for all.

Back in Seattle, Alex was pacing frantically in the resident’s lounge, trying to call her back only to find out that the number she’d called from was a payphone.

“Dammit!” Alex yelled and punched a wall. It had been almost two years since he’d spoken to Jo. Two years of wondering and worrying if he’d ever see her again, only to hear her voice on the other line of a pay phone for about thirty seconds. Alex sunk down onto the floor in the corner of the lounge and ran his hands over his face, trying to conceal the tears that were slowly falling down his cheeks. “Dammit. Dammit.”

“Alex?”

The voice startled him, causing him to look up at the source. Cristina was hovering over him with a concerned expression on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

Alex shook his head and wiped angrily at the tears, “Jo called me.”

“Jo? Jo called you?” Cristina raised her eyebrows. “Is she okay?”

“She was crying,” Alex trembled slightly at the thought of the conversation he’d just had. “She said that she was doing something today, but she wasn’t sure if she should go through with it and she wanted to hear my voice one last time before she made her decision. She told me she loved me and that I probably won’t hear from her again, then she hung up. I tried to call her back but she called me from a freaking pay phone, Yang. Who the hell uses a pay phone these days?”

Cristina stood silent and sat down beside Alex, waiting for him to say what he needed to say. After a minute, he spoke again, “I just keep getting these horrifying scenarios in my head. She said she wanted to hear my voice one last time… and all I can think is, what if she’s going to hurt herself? What if she's going to hurt herself right now and I’m not there to stop her? She’s done it before. She told me she almost ended it all, once when she was back in college. When she was with… but she chickened out and didn’t do it. I swear to God, Cristina, if she dies… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“She’s not going to die,” Cristina shook her head. “She can’t die. I’ve lost too many friends. She isn’t allowed to die.”

“This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not,” Cristina squeezed his knee. “You aren’t responsible for the decisions other people make.”

“This time it is though,” Alex bit his lip as he looked out into the empty lounge. “I’m such an idiot. I love her. I still love her… I always screw myself out of everything good.”

“You’ll find each other one day. You’ll see her again and be together and be happy. I have to believe that,” Cristina sighed. “Now get up off the floor and wipe your face. You’ll scare the kids.”

————

-Pray for tomorrow, but for today-

-All I want-

-Is to be home-

After Jo’s divorce was finalized and the legal protections were put in place, she considered returning to Seattle. For the first time in almost a decade, she was finally free to do as she pleased. To live her life without the fear that Paul still had the upper hand. Because he didn’t have the power anymore. She’d made sure of that. In her quest to gain her divorce, Jo found out about other women who’d been abused by him in the years since she’d left New Jersey. All of their testimonies led to victory in the civil case against Paul and the beginnings of a criminal trial thanks to the charges being pressed by Paul’s current girlfriend, Jenny. The criminal trial was the main reason Jo decided to stay in Florida. She wanted to be there to testify and see the look on Paul’s face when he finally got what he deserved.

Still, sometimes Jo would look out the window of the hospital she worked at, see the rain, the cars, the bustling, and remember the friends she’d left behind. The family she’d grown to love and care for. But the longer she remembered that, the sadder she got. It hurt too bad to think of all the what ifs. It hurt to picture her people moving on without her.

So, Jo did what she did best. She worked. She worked hard to make sure that she was focused and the best in her class. Jo got the best surgeries, she had every attending surgeon’s attention, she was a rock-star and was even in the process of raising up her own set of baby interns.

Being away was hard, though. Jo found herself walking up to the nursery and NICU to look at the babies like she and her friends had done so many times their intern year. There was something precious about that period in life. Something so fresh and hopeful and exciting. Maybe that’s why she gravitated towards maternal-fetal and pediatric surgery. It helped that the hospital she was working at was nationally ranked in obstetrics and gynecology. She found herself spending more time on the L&D and peds floors of the hospital, assisting complicated and rare surgeries. By the time she was in her fifth year of residency, she’d decided that maternal-fetal surgery was the way to go. She found so much joy in safeguarding the future of the tiny little lives that would soon be brought into the world.

Her purpose in life wasn’t the only thing that she found on the L&D and peds floors of the hospital. It was also where she met Jason. Jason Myers was an OB resident she found herself spending an increasing amount of time with. He was hot and charming and funny and he was the first guy Jo truly dated after leaving Seattle. It was casual and fun, something that Jo hadn’t experienced in a long time.

They’d been together for about four months when Jo noticed a couple red flags. It started when she began traveling for her fellowship interviews in the last few months of her residency. Jason began to get demanding and possessive. He grabbed her roughly on a couple occasions and had stumbled into their apartment completely wasted and smelling of another woman’s perfume.

“I think I’m going to have to break up with my boyfriend,” Jo sighed as spoke into the phone to Meredith.

“You’re finally going to break up with that asshole? Thank God,” Meredith replied. “Jo, you could do so much better.”

“I know. You were right,” Jo rolled her eyes as she pictured Meredith’s smug face. Before she’d even started dating Jason, Meredith told her that it was a bad idea, despite having never met him. “It was just so easy in the beginning. Sure it’s been fun, but I knew it would never be more than just this. But for the past month, he’s just been so mean and nasty. A complete douchebag. I don’t have time for this. I’m leaving for Michigan in a few weeks, for crying out loud.”

“You know, Dr. Herman still hasn’t filled her Maternal-Fetal Surgery Fellowship position yet. You should reach out to her and see if she’ll take you into consideration,” Meredith suggested.

“Mer, the Maternal-Fetal Pediatric Surgery Fellowship at UMich is a fantastic program,” Jo said as she continued to walk down the halls of the hospital. “Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to face Alex after all these years.”

“Jo, you wouldn’t have to,” Meredith paused. “Alex got into Hopkins’ Pediatric Surgery program.”

“He what?”

“Yup,” Jo could almost hear the smile in Meredith’s tone as she filled her in. “He’s going to Baltimore to be a peds fellow.”

“That’s amazing,” Jo breathed out. Truly, she was so proud of how far he’d come in his career. “I knew from the moment you talked about the Africa project that brought you Zola that he’d be going into peds. But Hopkins? God, I wish I could tell him how proud I am.”

“I’d say you could always call him, but that suggestion would fall of deaf ears,” Meredith chuckled lightly. “Anyway, he’s leaving so there's nothing stopping you from coming to Seattle. Come home, Jo. I’m sure UMich is great, but Herman is the best of the best. Plus, we’re here. Me, Cristina, Lexie, Bailey, your new niece. We’re all here in Seattle. Come be with us.”

“You know what, I think I will apply,” Jo said after a moment. “I’m tired of running.

“I’ll email you Herman’s contact information,” Meredith exclaimed excitedly. “Good luck with your break up.”

“Haha, thanks.”

—————

-People I've loved, I have no regrets- -Some I remember, some I forget- -Some of them living, some of them dead-

The plane crash was the true turning point for Jo. That call wrecked her in ways she didn’t know she could be wrecked. She wanted to go over there as soon as possible, but Jo still had two weeks left of her residency to complete before she made her final decision about which fellowship position she would choose. However, as soon as she was relieved from her duties at Mayo in Jacksonville, she found herself engaged in a very nasty break up with Jason and lugged all of her belongings across the country. Four days and some three thousand miles later, Jo found herself on the doorstep of the frat house face to face with a tired looking Meredith. Jo immediately wrapped her arms around her friend as she cried for the sister she’d lost. Jo rubbed comforting circles on Meredith’s back before she looked up and locked eyes with Alex. He froze and if it weren’t for the small child he was holding in his arms, Jo was sure he might’ve passed out with the way his eyes widened in disbelief.

Jo ushered Meredith back into the house and motioned Alex to the door, where he went to grab her bags and pull them inside. Meredith grasped at Jo’s arms as they sat side by side on the couch, “Lexie is dead. Mark is dying. Arizona is dying. Cristina won’t speak. Derek’s arm is ruined. And I… I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, Mer. I’m here. I’m here,” Jo smoothed down Meredith’s hair soothingly as she attempted to keep her own tears at bay. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. You don’t have to be in control. You don’t have to care of everyone. Just rest. You need to rest.”

A couple hours later, Jo was sitting on the couch with Meredith’s head on her lap, finally sound asleep. Jo had been staring out the window, lost in thought when she heard a couple footsteps come down the stairs. She looked up and saw Alex staring at her with a strange expression on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Jo breathed out in response.

“I just put Zola to sleep,” Alex pointed up to the second floor. He stared at her in silence for a minute more before speaking. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Jo gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “I’m here… what are you doing here? I thought you were going to Hopkins.”

“I told them I needed to hold off for a month because of Robbins. How do you know…?”

Jo motioned to the friend that was currently asleep on her lap, “We’ve kept in touch.”

“You what? You guys talk to each other?” Alex asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah. About once a week,” Jo whispered nonchalantly.

“You two talk to each other. Once a week?” Alex scoffed. “And you didn’t think to, I don't know… maybe call me? Meredith didn’t think to tell me that she was in contact with you?”

“I asked her not to say anything,” Jo eye’s moved away from his face to look at Meredith’s sleeping form.

“I was worried about you. I thought you were dead,” Alex glared at her.

“Wait, what?” Jo’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“Because of that phone call a year and a half ago!” Alex whisper-yelled. “You called me from a freaking payphone, sobbing and said that you needed to hear my voice one last time before you went through with ‘it.’ I had no idea what the ‘it’ was. You have to know what that must’ve sounded like from my end. I’ve been playing that conversation over and over again in my head for the better part of a year and a half, wondering if you killed yourself.”

“No, Alex I would never… I mean, I know I tried it once, but I value my life now. I would never do something to intentionally harm myself.”

“Then what the hell were you doing calling me and scaring me half to death like that?” Alex crossed his arms and looked at her seriously.

“I…” Jo took a deep breath. “I got divorced from Paul that day.”

“You’re free?” Alex’s face softened slightly.

“I’m free,” Jo confirmed, eyes watering. “I got legal protections that day as well and I made the decision to testify in Paul’s criminal trial that would determine whether he was guilty of the charges his then-girlfriend, Jenny accused him of. I wasn’t the only girl he abused, but I got to make sure that he never gets the chance to do it again. He’s currently serving five years in prison for domestic violence, abuse, and a couple of other charges.” Jo paused. “I called you because I almost didn’t walk into that courtroom. I couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same room as him, even with everyone else around. But you always did have a way of making me feel like I could do anything.”

The pair got quiet. They stood in the tense silence before Alex asked the question he’d been wondering since she walked in through those doors, “How long are you here for?”

“I’m here to stay,” Jo shared. “I’m Dr. Herman’s newest maternal-fetal surgical fellow. I came as soon as I could when I heard about the crash.”

“Maternal-fetal? What happened to ortho?”

“What happened to plastics?” Jo's mouth twitched up into a small smile. “So, peds, huh?”

“Turns out I’m great with those little suckers,” Alex chuckled lightly.

“Me too,” Jo smiled shyly. “I’m especially good when they’re in-utero though.”

“Guess I’m the out guy,” Alex shrugged, a comfortable smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Jo bit her lip lightly. “Where’s Izzie?”

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Jo tilted her head in question. “Oh God, don’t tell me she died or that her cancer is back.”

“No,” Alex breathed out a laugh. “Well, honestly, I don’t know. We got divorced. I haven’t spoken to her since then.”

“You what?” Jo’s jaw dropped. “What⎯when did this happen?”

“About four months after you left.”

“I need to go,” Jo gently moved Meredith’s head from her lap and slipped on her shoes, making her way towards the door.

“Where are you going? You just got here?” Alex moved close. “You can’t leave, not with Mer like this.”

“Relax, I’ll be back before she wakes up. I just… I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you,” Jo walked out the door into the warm June night.

She considered finding a hotel or going to the bar, but Jo was too exhausted from her four day trek to Seattle to go anywhere. She unlocked her car and jumped into the back seat, situating the seats so she could sleep there for the night and avoid the many, many problems until morning.

In the days and weeks following, Jo became an invaluable asset to Meredith as she navigated the many hardships that came with the plane crash. She moved into her tiny apartment and Jo began her fellowship and started working at Seattle Grace Mercy West once again, to everyone’s pleasure. For the first time in forever, Jo was surrounded by people that she knew and loved, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was utterly alone. Maybe it had to do with the fact that ever since that night she arrived, she hadn’t talked to Alex. Apparently he must’ve noticed, because one day he got fed up.

“Jo, come on. Please talk to me,” Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty on call room. “You’ve been back for over a month. You’ve talked to our friends. You’ve been getting to know Avery. You got friendly with Kepner before she got fired. You helped Cristina pack her things to go to Minnesota. You can’t ignore me forever. You’re a fetal surgeon. We’ve already had five cases together this month alone. Are you just trying to hold out until I leave for Hopkins? Well guess what, I’m leaving tonight so time’s up. You need to talk to me.”

It was true. In the month since their conversation at the frat house, Jo and Alex had an unusually high number of cases together that required that they spend quite a lot of time together. However, aside from the hours in the OR that she was required to spend with him, Jo found herself purposely avoiding him. The past few days had been especially difficult for her as she found out some unexpected information and was doing her best to avoid him so as not to fall apart in his arms.

“Shut up, Alex. Shut up before I punch you in the face, because I swear to God I am so angry with you right now,” Jo was seething, doing everything in her power to keep from screaming at him.

“What the hell did I do? I haven’t had a chance to get on your nerves,” Alex scrunched his face in confusion.

“You haven’t had a chance?” Jo threw her arms up in the air. “You divorced Izzie?”

“First of all, she divorced me,” Alex held up a finger. “Secondly, why the hell do you care?”

“What do you mean why the hell do I care? How dare you screw this up? I left and practically handed you to her. But you went and divorced her? And now you’re some man whore who doesn’t care where he sticks it?” Jo threw her hands up angrily. “How the hell could you let Izzie go? Why didn’t you chase her and beg her to stay? Why didn’t you swear you’d do better? Why didn’t you fight for her?”

“Because she wasn’t the one I wanted to fight for!” Alex shouted. The room went silent. So quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. The pair stared at each other tensely, no one daring to move. Alex finally huffed a breath. “I could’ve fought for her. I could’ve made it work. But I didn’t want to.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah I know.”

“No, I’m serious Alex. Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” Jo clenched her jaw. “Why did you even marry her?”

“I—I don’t know,” Alex shrugged.

“I don’t know? I don’t know? That’s probably the most moronic thing that I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. And that’s saying something because you’ve said some pretty stupid things,” Jo turned to face the wall and leaned her head against it. “I told you not to do it. I told you not to marry her. I told you that I was willing to put my own safety at risk to be with you and you chose her. You still chose poor, sick Izzie. You chose her and broke every single one of the promises you made me. Then you got divorced? And you didn’t even bother trying to fight? What the hell was it all for?”

“Don’t act like you’re innocent in all this,” Alex scoffed. “You were the one who left me. With a fucking letter, of all things! You didn’t even have the decency to say it to my face.”

“Because you wrecked me!” Jo yelled. “I gave you everything I had to give. I let you into my life, my bed, my heart. And somewhere along the line you decided that I wasn’t good enough or worth the wait. And stop talking like we were together. We weren’t together when I left! We were never together because you squashed that possibility before we even got the chance!”

“It doesn’t matter because you were my best friend! You were my best friend and you left and didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t leave a phone number, an email, and address. Nothing. You just disappeared. And when you did, it felt like I was a kid all over again. With no one who loved him or cared around,” Alex retorted.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Jo spat. “You had a wife. You had friends. You had your home. Me leaving didn't completely upend and disrupt your life! I lost my home. I lost my best friend. I lost the only family I had ever known all so that you could have a chance at making your marriage work. Because I knew that if I was around, you’d only feel guilty. So I took myself out of the equation. I did it for you! I loved you enough to lose you, to let you go. Do you have any idea the amount of pain I’ve been in the past three years? Wishing I was here in Seattle, but constantly reminding myself that I left so that you could have a happy life with Izzie and so that I could heal. So imagine what a punch in the gut it feels like to find out that you haven’t even been with Izzie. You’ve been sleeping around with anyone and everyone easy enough to let you get into their pants, while I was in pain, all alone in Florida with nothing and no one but my chief of surgery and my douchebag ex-boyfriend.”

“Well things weren’t exactly sunshine and rainbows here either! But you wouldn’t know because you weren’t here! You’re so wrapped up in how much it all cost you and how much you sacrificed, but I never asked you to do any of it! You decided what was best for the both of us. You decided to leave, when all I wanted was to have you around. Because I have never loved anyone in my life more than I loved you. And that probably sounds pretty screwed up because I married Izzie, but it’s true. Do you know what a slap in the face it was when you left? Do you know that I cried in shower every once in a while because I missed you? And it wasn’t even the sex. It was the friendship. I missed your voice and your laugh and your advice. I missed you. But you decided to pretend like we didn’t matter and didn’t bother to leave me a way to contact you. So, let me make this easier. We don’t matter to each other! Not anymore because I’m done!” Alex bellowed. He took a steadying breath and laughed bitterly. “You know what, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving tonight anyway and you’ll never have to see my face again. Have a nice life.”

Jo waited until Alex finally turned around and walked out of the on-call room before she crumbled onto the floor in tears. She pressed a hand to her chest and tried her will herself to calm down, but it was too much. None of it was supposed to be happening this way. She wasn’t supposed to come back to Seattle only to find out that Lexie died, Cristina left, and that Mark Sloan was getting unplugged tonight. She wasn’t supposed to see Alex at all. She wasn’t supposed to find out that he was divorced. She wasn’t supposed to watch him leave her. She wasn’t supposed to be making one of the hardest decisions in her life like this. Maybe that’s why she took out her phone and looked for Jason’s phone number and hit the dial button.

After he left the on-call room, Alex was a whirlwind, trying his best to make it to the airport with no more interruptions. What he didn’t bank on was running into Meredith.

“Hey! So that’s it? I’m not even as good as one of your intern girls, huh? You’re not gonna say goodbye to me?” Meredith stood in front of him.

“Mer, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Meredith narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t make this a thing,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make this a thing? Mark is dying right now, and that’s it. You’re just gonna leave too?” Meredith shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m just—I’m gonna be on the other side of the country. We’ll talk—“

“That’s what Cristina said. It’s not the same thing,” Meredith frowned. “Nothing is the same. Everything is different. Everyone is leaving and everyone is dying.”

“Don’t make this my problem,” Alex scowled. “I’m finally getting the hell out of here. I can’t keep standing around being the guy that should’ve been on the plane that crashed. I shouldn’t be here, Mer. I should be dead. Or I should’ve left months ago.”

“Alex!” Meredith grabbed on to his jacket as he tried to walk away.

“Get off,” he pushed her hand away. “Look, I’m not going to stay in Seattle just because you don’t want to be alone.”

“This isn’t about me not wanting to be alone. Because I won’t be alone. Jo’s here now, remember that? Remember the girl you’ve been in love with since our intern year? The one you’ve been pining over ever since she left three years ago? Well, you’re finally in the same city again. Are you really going to let that go?” Meredith stared at Alex intensely.

“Jo doesn’t want me here. I just cause her pain,” Alex replied simply. “It’s time for me to go. I need to get out of Seattle Grace Mercy Death. I need to build a home and Hopkins won’t wait forever. I have a plane to catch, so, bye.”

With that, Meredith scoffed and turned on her heels, walking away.

Alex watched as his friend walked away in anger and frustration. Shaking his head, Alex turned around and started towards his terminal. He was about to board the plane when he realized that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave and upend his life without knowing that it was the right thing to do.

That’s how he found himself sitting at the bar beside Meredith at the terminal lounge.

“What are you doing here?” Meredith asked.

“Hey! Who is that?” Cristina’s voice sounded from Meredith’s iPad. “Point me.”

“I’m sorry about before,” Alex cast Meredith a sideways glance.

“You should be,” Meredith raised an eyebrow and sighed. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I thought he said he was leaving⎯I thought you said you were leaving,” Cristina commented.

“The guy replacing Robbins is gonna mess the place up,” Alex moved his face into the view of the screen. “Besides, I don’t even like Boston.”

“So what are you saying?” Meredith scrunched her face.

“I couldn’t get on my plane, okay? I couldn’t go,” Alex admitted.

“You’re saying you ditched the flight because you chickened out?”

“What a loser,” Meredith’s mouth twitched and she pulled Alex in for a hug.

“You’re staying for Wilson right?” Cristina looked at him expectantly through the video chat.

“I don’t know… maybe?” Alex shrugged. “All I know is that the thought of leaving without trying to at least fix my friendship with her makes me feel sick. I don’t even know why I care, though. She obviously doesn’t. She left me once, who’s to say she won’t do it again?”

“Wow, you are an even bigger idiot than I thought you were,” Cristina shook her head. “Of course she cares. Who do you think made your medical decisions or paid your bills after you got shot?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jo called me after the shooting. When we realized that she was your proxy, she took a plane to Seattle, decided on the best course of treatment, cried, held your hand for a little, and left all before you even had a chance to wake up,” Meredith shared.

“She did?” Alex struggled to comprehend how he’d never known about her trip all those years ago to take care of him.

“Yeah, she did,” Cristina nodded.

“So, did you just ditch tonight’s flight and you’re planning on taking another one another day or are you going to stay for good?” Meredith waited for him to reply.

“I don’t know yet,” he shook his head. “I don’t know what I should do.”

“I think you know what you need to do,” Meredith eyed him carefully. “Alex, you found your family in Seattle and now you have a second chance to fix things with Jo and you’re really going to leave?”

“You know, I’ve been trying to leave Seattle because for the longest it just didn’t feel like home,” Alex took a swig of the beer that the bartender had placed in front of him. “I felt like I didn’t belong. I wanted to go and find a place that felt like home, but I guess I’m realizing that home was never a place. It’s Jo. It was always Jo and now she’s here and I’m not about to be the idiot that runs away from home again.”

“So, you’re really going to try? You’re not gonna screw up and break her heart again? Because you know that Jo could do so much better than you?” Cristina asked pointedly. “I’m asking because I’m protective of my hairball and I won’t hesitate to come beat your ass if you do. Fear of flying be damned.”

Alex let out a soft laugh before growing serious again, “She deserves better. She deserves someone better than me. But I don’t want her with anyone else. So, I guess I’m just gonna have to be better. I have to become the man she deserves, because she’s everything. She’s home.”

-All I want-

-Is to be home-

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Text

Can you hear me, S.O.S., help me put my mind to rest

“Sorry they made you come out for something so stupid.” He mumbles, finally, in the elevator up to his apartment. “It’s not stupid.” “It’s 1am on a sunday, I’m pretty sure you had better things to do than pick up a beat-up co-worker and buy him his drugs.” He shoots her a quick glance as they get out on his floor. “I’m gonna pay you back for those, of course.” She doesn’t even acknowledge it, because they both know he can’t afford it. “It’s actually 12:30, and my partner needed my help. So there’s definitely nothing better to do with my time.”

---*---

Amy is Jake’s emergency contact on his medical file, which makes sense if you think about them as the lovey-dovey couple that they are now. She has been his emergency contact since two months after he’d met her, which makes less sense, until you realise that she is reliable, comforting, supportive Amy, and he is Jake, and he has never not been yearning for her attention just a little bit.

read it on AO3

“Jesus Christ, Jake. I know you’re bad at paperwork, but this is a horror show.”

Amy rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands, trying to stare down the little stars that appear in her vision from doing so. Jake, across the room on his worn-down couch, eating something very sweet and very crumbly - a cannoli, maybe? it was gone too fast for Amy to recognise - simply shrugs.

“You don’t have to do it, Ames, you know that.”

She does. She knows. She offered, after all.

Maybe it was too early for something like this, anyway. They’d been officially together for barely a month, a stage where most other couples would still be discovering each other’s little likes and dislikes and trying to hide some imperfections from the other. Definitely not the stage of going through their partner’s chaotic mountain of very personal paperwork and files. Yet here she is, sorting through insurances (the rare few that Jake actually has, mostly because he’s legally required to), licenses, bills and Academy certificates.

It was a mess that had Amy’s fingers itching every time she saw it, she reasons, and nothing they’d done in their month together really fit the usual trajectory of a relationship anyway, based on the fact that they already knew each other like the back of their hands. So when Jake had groaned about another forgotten bill from the mail tub that Amy forced him to steadily work through every time she came over, she’d offered to get things straightened out for him once and for all.

She’s not sure if she regrets it now. Thumbing through a pile of loose papers that turn out to be several medical records from his injuries as a rookie cop, she realises that maybe this is a bit too personal, a step too close for what they have so far. Would she be willing to share this kind of information with a boyfriend of four weeks? she wonders as she skims over a page detailing the frankly insane amount of medication he was supposed to take after another week-long stay at the hospital. She’s quite sure he took barely half of it, gritting his teeth and moaning about stupid doctors instead, even though she didn’t know him back then - she knows him too well now not to immediately picture a slightly younger Jake with a list of weird-sounding pills he couldn’t pronounce and a giant frown on his face at the pharmacy.

“I don’t have to- I mean, I can stop. If you don’t want me to do this.”

Jake, finished with whatever he was eating, leans back on the couch to face her at the tiny table in his kitchenette. He gives her the patented Peralta-grin, the sweetness only heightened by some leftover cream-filling (definitely a cannoli) on his right cheek. She has half a mind to get up and lick it off, but she’s blocked in by paper piles all around her.

“And keep Amy Santiago from a chance to file paperwork? Pretty sure that’d be grounds for a break-up. I’m surprised you haven’t run out to buy me a filing cabinet filled with all sorts of folders and tabs and whatnot.”

She lets her eyes drop back down to the papers in her hands, trying hard not to show him the blush creeping onto her face. She had been making a mental list of what binders she should buy to really get this in order.

“I’m just saying, if you don’t want me to see some of this- it’s very private information-”

“Babe.” He still grins, and Amy thinks about how that pet name has settled between them far too quickly and far too comfortably as well. “Pretty sure nothing in that mountain of papers is any more embarrassing than all the stuff you already know and tease me about all the time.”

“True. It’s not like I’m going to find out here why you think using the same soap for your dishes and your shower routine sometimes is an okay thing to do.” She grins back before filing away another old medical record, suddenly getting stuck on one little line at the top of it. “Jake, please tell me Stevie Schillens is not still your emergency contact.”

“What? No. Of course he isn't. They make you update your info with every promotion at work.” That alone tells her that if ‘they’ didn’t, Jake would definitely still have a co-worker from his starting days on his files rather than, say, his current sergeant or a close friend. She shuffles through a few papers to find a more recent record.

“Who is it, then? Might be good to update again and reconsider, promotion or not. Your mom is like half an hour’s drive away if anything happened, Terry can’t really get away from his family if it’s after hours. I wouldn’t trust Charles not to break down worse than you if he ever gets a call, and Rosa- I guess she’s responsible enough, but she might hurt you more for giving out her phone number-”

“Really, Ames?” His voice is so soft from the couch, and when she finally looks up again, his face has that strange tilt to it, between affectionate and amused. As if she’d just said the most ridiculous, yet adorable thing in the universe. As if the answer wasn’t completely obvious.

She looks down again at the paper she picked up, a medical report from a while ago, and as she reads the little line on top, she remembers.

-*-

“Amy Santiago?”

“This is she.”

The voice down the line is as foreign as the number on her cell had been when she picked it up. She didn’t get many calls on her private phone anyway, apart from her family, and they were not the kind of people who’d call her at midnight on a saturday.

“This is NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital. We’re calling on behalf of Jake Peralta? You’re listed as his emergency contact, but there is no additional info on your status-”

She’s up off the couch and into her bedroom to change into jeans before the nurse on the line can even finish.

“I’m his partner. Work. Partner. We’re detectives. NYPD.” Amy almost barks down the line while wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear to pull down her sweatpants. Jake would obviously carry his badge even when he wasn’t on duty like tonight, but maybe they hadn’t found it, maybe he hadn’t been able to give them that info... and while it was slightly upsetting to think about, she knew that the hospital would give fast-tracks and special treatments to active cops, and if that was something that could help him now, the morality of it all didn’t matter one bit to her. “What’s happened? Is he- is Jake okay?”

Obviously he’s not, you idiot, he’s in the hospital and not present enough to give them any information so they have to call his emergency contact, that is the furthest from okay that he could be-

Her inner scolding is interrupted by the very calm, very soothing voice of the nurse.

“He should be fine. He was brought in ten minutes ago. Somebody assaulted him, but a nearby officer intervened and called for an ambulance. We just needed to check because his files are very… incomplete.” Amy hears the rustling of paper and the slight distaste tinging the nurse’s voice and makes a mental note to sit down with Jake and make him update all his information as soon as possible. “And he’s not clear enough to answer any questions due to the painkillers. Are you aware of any allergies or problems that could arise from medications? He doesn’t need surgery, but we have to treat some lacerations and other wounds.”

“He’s not on any permanent medications. He had to take Vicodin and Heparin after a surgery four months ago.” She replies immediately and without a doubt, remembering her last trip to the hospital with him while she slips into a jacket and checks her bag for her purse and car keys. “Oh, he has asthma, but hasn’t had an attack in years, so he doesn’t use his inhaler regularly or anything. And he’s allergic to bees, but I don’t think that matters?”

“No.” the nurse almost chuckles. “But the rest is very helpful to know, thanks. Will you be able to arrange for someone to monitor him for the next 24 hours? Otherwise we’ll need to prepare a room for him. He keeps saying you’ll pick him up, but we weren’t sure-” “I’m on my way.”

-*-

She speed-walks to the front desk of the emergency room not ten minutes later.

“Hello. My name is Amy Santiago. I’m here for Jake Peralta - he was brought in twenty minutes ago?”

“Ah! The lovely lady detective.” The nurse - it’s a different one from the phone call, she can tell from the voice - gives her a weird sort of smile. “Yes, he’s been asking for you non-stop. But the painkillers should have worn off by now, so he might be more coherent.”

She tries to ignore that comment, she really does. But it’s not easy.

“The doctor’s going over aftercare with him, so he might be a few more minutes. You can take a seat if you’d like.”

Amy glances over to the waiting area, full of people even at this time of night, before turning back to the desk. “Uhm, the nurse on the phone said he needs to be monitored for 24 hours - do you know why? Is there anything I need to be aware of?”

The lady gives her a once-over before another strange smile, like she knows more than Amy does (which, logically, in this situation she does, but it feels like she knows something else, too).

“He’s had a minor concussion. Nothing to worry about, but he might be a bit disoriented or woozy, so it’s best not to leave him alone. And if he throws up or feels faint, you should bring him back immediately. He has a check-up appointment to remove his stitches in three days. Everything else you need to know will be on his report.”

“Sure.” Amy nods, and hopes that Jake doesn’t lose track of that report on his way from the examination room to the waiting area - it wouldn’t be the first time he manages to lose paperwork in record time. She gives the still smiling nurse another nod before finally heading to sit down and pull out the crossword puzzle she was halfway done with when she got the call.

“Hey.”

“Oh! Hey!” Amy practically drops her puzzle and jumps from her seat in the waiting room once she sees him standing in front of her.

Jake looks a mess. His leather jacket is ripped on one shoulder seam, and his jeans are covered in grime. There’s an awful lot of blood on his hoodie - probably from his nose, which is covered in a bandage - and his face is more red-bruised than pale in most places. There’s another, bigger bandage over a stitched-up gash across his left cheekbone, the accompanying eye blood-shot, and his lip is split in at least two places.

“You look like hell.” She blurts out before thinking and immediately scolds herself, but it actually earns her a little laugh.

“You’re looking lovely as well, Santiago.” His eyes wander over her messy ‘I had to get here in under ten minutes on a saturday couch night’ look, including a steadily unraveling hair-bun and oversized sweater.

“Sorry, I mean-”

“S’alright.” He drops into the seat next to her and winces. More bruises, Amy thinks.

“What happened?” She sits back down as he leans forward, only now noting the clipboard and pen in his hands (which are equally roughed up, knuckles worn down, with scabs already forming. Whatever had happened, he sure hadn’t given in easily).

“Some big-shot guy whose dealer I arrested last week spotted me coming out of a bar. Decided the best way to deal with his crippling drug addiction was to beat the shit out of the cop who’d cut off his supply. He was, like, a giant of a dude.” Jake puffs up his chest and raises his arms to show the supposed size of the man, and Amy can only nod. “Luckily he was too stupid to check for surveillance on the very public street we were on, and there was a beat cop on the corner who cuffed him pretty quickly.” He looks down again at the clipboard, and tries to scratch his nose before remembering there’s a bandage in the way. “He also called an ambulance, which I think was a bit over the top, but I couldn’t really breathe to tell him no.”

Amy gives him a quizzical look, and he sighs before explaining.

“Fucker punched me in the chest so hard I had an asthma attack.”

She snorts. She doesn’t want to, but it’s not really something you can stop, even as she clutches her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Jake, I shouldn’t- it’s not funny-”

“Well.” He grins at her, far softer than usual, but that might just be to not upset his split lip. “It is a little bit funny, I guess.”

“Do you have an inhaler at work? You should take one with you, you know, even if you haven’t had problems for a while, you never know when they show up again, case in point, and people might not know what to do - maybe I should get an inhaler too, for when we’re working together, and make sure Charles knows how-”

“Hey.” He interrupts her verbal stream of consciousness by holding the clipboard up to her, and she grabs it reflexively the same way she does when he sneakily slips her his unfinished paperwork. “Can you help me fill out these stupid forms? I think I’m still a bit high from whatever they gave me back there, or maybe I just don’t know half of these words anyway.”

She grabs the pen from him as well, clicks it twice, and gets to work. She doesn’t even have to ask him about most of the fields he’s left blank, and after a minute or two, the file is full with both his chicken scratch and her perfect handwriting. She’s filled out so many of these forms for him before, she could probably do it in her sleep. Which would be quite a worrying thought if it wasn’t so weirdly sweet at the same time - she realises that he has never, not once, asked anyone else for a ride to the hospital for work injuries, at least when he had the choice (and luckily, he was barely ever so hurt that he couldn’t, that any one of them had to jump into the back of the ambulance with him, but most of those times it was her as well).

“Here.” She hands the file back to him. “Get that to the nurses, and we can go back to your place so you can catch up on sleep. Do you have your medical report?”

He nods and swaps it for the clipboard in her hand in a well-set routine they both know, getting up to hand it in while she does a quick read through. There are not that many after-care instructions - the usual things for concussions she’s aware of, a healing balm for the bruising, replacing the bandages regularly, and another truckload of painkillers and medicine. The doctors sure do seem to love pumping him full with it whenever they get a chance, and he sure does love to ignore them and not take any of it. She still makes a mental note to swing by the pharmacy on their way home to pick it all up when he gets back and gestures for her to leave.

He does a dramatic turn and bow to say good-bye to the front desk as they pass it, earning himself a giggle from the ladies and swaying only a little after he gets back up. Amy has her hands around his elbow immediately, steadying him and leading him outside - they did say he would be woozy - and the nurse gives her another one of those smiles. She’s still not quite sure if she likes them or not.

-*-

They stop at the late-night-pharmacy as planned - Jake obeys orders to stay in the car to make it all quicker, but insists on getting a bag of sour gummies as a reward, and Amy sighs as he tears into it right away, probably covering her whole passenger seat with the powder - but the rest of the drive stays quiet. It feels more concerning to Amy than it should. He’s a blabbermouth at the best of times, should be even more so after being loaded up with painkillers and coming down from the adrenaline high of a fight, asthma attack and hospital treatment all at once. But right now he seems utterly silenced, fidgety and... nervous.

“Sorry they made you come out for something so stupid.” He mumbles, finally, in the elevator up to his apartment.

“It’s not stupid.”

“It’s 1am on a sunday, I’m pretty sure you had better things to do than pick up a beat-up co-worker and buy him his drugs.” He shoots her a quick glance as they get out on his floor. “I’m gonna pay you back for those, of course.” She doesn’t even acknowledge it, because they both know he can’t afford it.

“It’s actually 12:30, and my partner needed my help. So there’s definitely nothing better to do with my time.”

He mumbles something else as they step through the door, but she doesn’t catch it. She helps him slip out of his jacket instead, reminds herself to google a good tailor that works with leather as she notices the ripped shoulder while hanging it up and turns around to look at the blood-stained hoodie he’s taking off.

“I don’t think that thing is salvageable.”

“Damn, and it was one of my favourites, too.” He pouts, playfully, before remembering his injured lip.

“All your hoodies are your favourite.”

“Am I not allowed to love them all equally?”

Amy is already in his kitchen not answering that, instead bundling the hoodie up and into a trash bag she’s pulled from a shelf. She’ll take it down to the dumpster with her when she leaves tomorrow, or else he might try and wash it.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know.” Jake says as she walks past him to put the bag on the front mat. “I can take care of my clothes.”

“Sorry.” She halts and takes off her own jacket and shoes, instead. It’s a strange situation - they’re both used to Jake being a lot more inhibited from medication or alcohol when she literally has to bring him home, usually hanging onto Amy’s shoulders and babbling nonsense while she shuffles him into bed. But now he’s standing up all on his own, silent again, looking around the place as if he doesn’t know what to do in his own home with Amy as a not-quite-guest. Neither does she.

Another beat of silence passes between them before Jake clears his throat and bumbles on.

“You should- ...do you want something to drink? I think I still have some of that herbal stuff you brought-”

“You should-” Amy starts at almost the same time, silencing them both again for another beat. “You should change out of these” she gestures to his dirty clothes “and put the balm on your bruises and get ready for bed. You’re gonna crash from the adrenaline soon.”

It seems like he wants to say something else, but the silence is deafening by now, so he only nods and grabs stuff out of the pharmacy bag before heading to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna grab a spare shirt for me to sleep in, if that’s okay?” She calls after him and only hears ‘Sure!’ before the door closes.

Amy realises, as she turns around for the dresser in the one room apartment he inherited from Gina a while ago, that she’s never been here before without some medical emergency clouding her vision. She knew his old place - from a few late evenings working on case files (which he illegally took home, but neither of them mentioned that), and a movie marathon when he was extremely sick and had begged her over on her day off because he was convinced he was ‘going to die any minute’ and didn’t want the neighbours to find his ‘decomposing corpse later in the week’ - and he’d been over at hers far more times than she could count (her place was nicer, she had actual cable tv,, and a working kitchen for him to rustle around in for random late night snacks).

But this apartment? It seems strangely foreign now, without a drunk or medicated Jake needing her help, without the usual distraction of getting him into bed, getting his shoes and jacket off, forcing him awake to take some aspirin and then settling down on the couch to his snoring. She feels like a guest instead, someone who doesn’t know if they’re allowed to sit down or get a drink from the kitchen without being invited. That’s nonsense, she thinks - she’s here to help like always, and there’s no way Jake would care if she turned his entire kitchen upside down and re-organised it or fell asleep on the couch right then and there.

Loud grumbling and ranting from the bathroom pulls her out of her thoughts, before she can even decide to pick up the spare bedding set for the couch she knows he keeps in his closet.

“Everything alright?” She knocks on the door, but barely waits for the angry ‘No!’ before opening it. Her breath catches.

Jake’s in his pajama pants, and - that’s it. She can see the muscles in his bare back flex as well as the reflection of his front in the mirror, as he tries to bend around in some convoluted way to reach the large, purple bruise that travels from his waist to his back.

“Stupid doctors and their stupid lotions and stupid ideas for people who can’t do yoga or some shit to reach their own back-” he mumbles, but Amy doesn’t hear much of it. She’s seen Jake shirtless before - you don’t go on stake-outs or undercover assignments without catching each other in different states of undress at some point - and every time has been a secret memory, quickly stolen and hidden somewhere deep in her mind, to be dusted off and remembered at the most inopportune times or when she feels particularly alone after a drink (or maybe four). This time will probably be no different, she thinks as she notes the soft trail of hair under his belly button, down to the sweatpants that definitely sit lower than any jeans she’s seen him shirtless in before.

She has to act, she reprimands herself, before he notices, before he sees her staring or realises she’s blushing, so she steps up to the sink and pulls the tub of healing balm from his hands.

“It’s not the doctors’ fault you always get injured in inconvenient places.” She answers his rant while dipping her fingers into the lotion and carefully applying it to the bruise, trying not to rub or press too hard for it to hurt.

Jake doesn’t breathe the entire time her fingers are on his skin.

“There you go.” Amy closes the little tub and puts it next to the sink, eyeing his bruised face and completely ignoring the flush that is hiding underneath it. “Lemme change your bandages before you sleep, too. You already got them dirty.”

“I can do that-”

“You’re going to rip it straight off and disturb your stitches, most likely.” Her hands are already at the corner of his cheek, carefully prying off the tape and strips, and he forgets how to breathe again.

She replaces the bandages just as carefully and leaves him to the rest of his night time routine, filling a glass of water in the kitchenette and coming back with a packet of Vicodin at the same moment he steps out of the bathroom, finally pulling a shirt over his head.

“You should take some painkillers before you sleep. It’ll help.”

“Oh goodie.” He quips and eyes the water. “Drugs! Because the injuries totally weren’t caused because of somebody off their drugs!”

“These are prescription drugs. It’s different. You know that.”

He still stares warily at the package in her hand, but another shuffle forward from her and he grabs them and pops one into his mouth, grimacing after downing it (whether that grimace is for the medicine or the water he actually has to drink, she’s not sure).

“Good boy.” Amy jokes, and he’s glad he’s already swallowed so he can’t choke on his water from hearing that. “Now get some sleep in. I’ll be down here on the couch if you need anything, or feel worse.”

“Don’t go-” He stutters and stares right past her head at the aforementioned couch. “I mean, you don’t- you don’t have to sleep on the couch, I know how uncomfortable it is- you can sleep with me- I mean, in the bed, with me in the bed, I mean- there’s enough space- with the extra blanket- I don’t-”

He interrupts his own rambling with a deep sigh and a ‘Jesus, Jake’ before Amy can stifle another giggle. He feels just as awkward with her here as she does, and it almost makes the whole thing more comfortable. They’ll just have to power through the nonsense and get back to their normal friendly behaviour, she reasons.

“If you really don’t mind. I’m gonna get the stuff from the closet.”

He’s already bundled up under his own covers when she comes back with the heap of blanket and pillows for her side of the bed.

It’s not her side, of course, it’s just the part of the bed he’s freed up from his own duvet, and that she’s going to sleep on now for one night, but it’s not like they have sides in their bed like-

power through the nonsense, she repeats as she settles down and stares over at him. His eyes are closed, his breath already slowing down into a sleepy pattern, and despite all the bruising and bandaging, his face looks so soft when he’s asleep. It’s a sight she could definitely get used to.

-*-

She remembers waking up the next morning, far too early for the late night they’d had. She remembers how wonderfully warm he was, hurt face buried in her shoulder and softly breathing across his shirt that she’d borrowed. She remembers her heart racing as she tried to untangle herself from the cuddling position their sleeping bodies had found themselves in, and she remembers the soft, quiet, confused ‘Ames..?’ when he woke up a few hours later and found the bed empty, with her already sitting at the tiny kitchen table she was sitting at right now.

Looking back at the report of the night she just remembered, the little line of her name and phone number at the top seem to glare at her, scolding her for her stupid question about emergency contact changes. She can hear Jake quietly laugh before she looks up.

“What, did you genuinely think you weren’t my first pick for emergencies?” Jake is still smiling at her, and she realises he obviously didn’t go down that little trip down memory lane with her. Maybe he was even still at the point of their conversation where Stevie Schillens was a viable option for an emergency contact as well. “Like, even without everything else going on with us… You love filling out forms, you’re responsible enough to actually take care of an emergency situation, and you know about all my stupid medical info better than me, because you keep driving me to the hospital from work.”

“You’re saying you made a serious decision like this based on actual logical evidence instead of one of your ‘gut feelings’?” Amy’s eyebrow raises almost involuntary. Present-Jake, maybe. Past-Jake? Definitely not.

Present-Jake can only shrug before scratching his nose, a subtle tell that she's identified by now for when he’s embarrassed, as if he’s trying to hide his face before speaking again.

“Might’ve also liked the idea of having you in the ER with me... instead of a freaked-out Charles or something.”

She smiles at what sounds like only half-explained truth and decides not to push it. She knows what he means, anyway. She knows, by now, that he would always ask the nurses for her when he was being treated, would always ramble on about her when blissed out on extra-strong painkillers, about how smart she was and how much she would help him and how much he hated hospitals, but not quite so much when he knew she was outside the room waiting for him.

“Okay, but when exactly did you put me in as your emergency contact?” She puts down the last file and maneuvers around the stacks of yet unsorted papers to get over to him and the couch.

“Eh, ‘bout two months after we were partnered up.”

“Two- we didn’t even like each other then!”

“Wrong. You didn’t like me.” Another nose-scratch before Amy can sit down next to him, cradling his face in her hand and smiling again at how quickly he leans into it.

“Aw, babe. I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

“I mean, I didn’t like-like you then. Just for the record. I wasn’t that desperate, okay? I just thought you were... neat. And really good to have around for emergencies. Probably should’ve asked you. For all I know you would’ve stranded your annoying new partner at the hospital and pretended like you never heard of me.”

“I would have never done that!” Amy glowers at him. “Just for the record as well. I would’ve absolutely taken care of you, even though I didn’t like you or found you super annoying.”

“I know you’re trying to be nice right now, babe, but you’re really not doing it well.” Jake grins at her again, and she can’t help but pull him towards her to kiss that snarky grin away. It reappears as soon as her lips leave his, unfortunately, but it is decidedly less snarky and far more dopey.

“And I did show up when they called me after that drug addict attacked you, remember? I was so worried when I got that call, because I didn’t even know I was your contact, and I thought something horrible must’ve happened that they had to call me. And then it was just a fist fight.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “It was a really stupid reason to call an emergency contact. Shoulda filled my forms out better.”

“Maybe.” She smiles as she strokes across his cheek, noting the tiny scar that is still there from the stitches he had to get. “But I’m glad they did, anyway. You would’ve tried to drive yourself home and clean your wounds with mouthwash, or something.”

“Maybe.” He echoes with an equal smile. “You do make a better home-nurse than I would, I guess. Even though you were missing the sexy outfit.”

He earns himself a punch to the arm for that before she goes back to playing with his hair, soothing him enough that he drops the joking facade.

“I was really happy you showed up, by the way. And took me home. And didn’t leave.”

“Again: I would’ve never left you or not taken care of you. We’re partners, for God’s sake. What would the Captain have said if he found out I left you home alone with a concussion after you asked me for help?”

“Yep. Holt’s imminent disappointment. Definitely the only reason I hoped you’d stay.” His smile is crooked, but Amy only continues stroking through his hair, and it quickly turns the uncomfortable smile into a content sigh. “I was so… nervous. Because... you can probably guess that I did like-like you by then. Like, you were right here in my apartment, and I wasn’t out on painkillers, but I also wasn’t awake enough to like, entertain you or anything, and I was so worried that you were already annoyed because of the whole situation and I would do something or say something stupid, but you were still there, and then you helped me with the bandages, and the, the lotion, and I think I remember the worst invitation to my bed I’ve ever given anyone, and when I woke up I thought you’d finally left, but you were just in the kitchen, and I-” He sighs again, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his forehead against her shoulder. “I was always torn between wanting to kiss you and wanting to apologise for being so much trouble.”

“God, we really were hopelessly lost on each other, weren’t we?” Amy chuckles, her hand now carding through the hair on his nape rather than the curls on top.

“I was definitely hopeless, in every sense of the word. I think I’d rather describe you as oblivious.”

“Ooooh, good word!” She happily praises him, before realising just how sad that statement of his actually was. He lifts his head again to look at her. “I... actually, I wasn’t really oblivious at all. I’d say I was just as hopeless as you. I just hid it a bit better.”

“But you were always there.” He smiles at her, his head sideways now, leaning against the back of the couch, and it’s so soft and comforting and homely she wants to sink into him. “For every hospital trip I needed. Maybe that’s kinda why I made you my emergency contact too. I knew you’d come no matter what, and I knew you wouldn’t leave. Whether I annoyed you like crazy or we barely knew each other or we were already good friends or we were not quite on speaking terms due to all the awkwardness.”

She leans her head next to him, her hands wrapping around his folded in his lap.

“I’ve got your back. Always.” She whispers, and it’s a lot more than the supportive, yet simple promise of work partners. She thinks of the many times people had left him, the many things he’d been through alone, the lonely walks to an empty house or quiet cab rides back to a dark apartment, the dinner’s in the microwave notes and the sorry, can’t tonight texts, and the few times she has actually left him alone too, not knowing yet that when he was running off scared, what he really needed was someone to run after him and tell him it’s okay.

Their relationship is only a month old, officially, but she knows that it’s far older than that. She knows that it’s been growing and changing for years, and she knows, in that moment, that it will grow for many, many years to come. For forever, maybe, if they’re lucky. But no matter what it will change into in the future - she also knows, without a doubt in her heart, that she’ll be there. The way he knows she would, the way he’s known since two months after they met.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #fanfic #my writing

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kyoties · 4 years

Note

do you have any headcanons for akaza x sakura?

I sure do!!! These aren’t so much headcanons as they are a string of headcanons basically written with a plot??? If that makes sense??? kdjfoiwhgow bear with me though??? This is NOT a fic just some thoughts I really wanted to write down and share lol

Akaza brings her to Muzan 80 years prior to the story’s main timeline. Muzan believed her to be a descendant of the doctor he killed and that she had information on the blue spider lily, but had no direct proof to confirm it. So, while she was walking at night, Akaza retrieved her without any questions.

Sakura isn’t sure, but she’s aware that her ancestors had many special treatments that were passed down with each generation. Muzan asks her if she knows or not – he doesn’t want a ‘possibility of its existence’, he wants answers.

Sakura admits she’s never heard of the blue spider lily. Muzan wants to kill her, but he’s reluctant to do so due to his past mistakes. He’s desperate for a lead and this girl could quite possibly be his second chance at conquering the sunlight. For now, even a pathetic human was a better lead than nothing.

Muzan also knows that Akaza doesn’t eat or kill women and leaves her in his care. He tells Akaza she must travel with him and their assignment – on top of wiping out the Demon Slayer Corps – will be to find the blue spider lily. He keeps her human so she can continue her work during the daylight for now, but warns her that she can’t afford to make mistakes or he’ll kill her.

In the beginning, Akaza orders her around a lot, however he’s not cruel. Sakura stands up for herself, though. She’s not a doormat, so they’re butting heads all the time in the beginning of their ‘mission’. He appreciates how strong-willed and tough she is.

At one point in time, Akaza uses Sakura as bait to attract some low-ranking demon slayers so he can eat (she isn’t aware those are his intentions until he kills them, she was just going to them to ask for directions because he told her to). He plays it off, but she’s really upset about it. He doesn’t promise anything, but he never uses her like that again. When he’s hungry, he goes hunting alone.

In the cold months, he’ll hunt animals for her or catch fish. She’s very grateful for it and always invites him to eat with her. He refuses.

The first time she’s sick, he feels uneasy and doesn’t understand why he’s so anxious. While she’s sleeping, he’s constantly pacing around her. She’ll wake up and he already has water for her to drink. ‘Why are you being so kind to me?’ she asks. He doesn’t answer. She’s only sick a handful of times, but he hates it when she coughs. He yells at her to stop because it bothers him so much. They bicker about it, but she ends up falling asleep and he goes back to his pacing.

She still does her work during the day which exhausts her as they have to travel at night, too. Akaza, after a few weeks of her doing this, carries her on his back so she can rest at night unless he needs her. Muzan, being a demon for so long, disregarded that part of her needs (or maybe he just didn’t care). When dawn comes close, he’ll find a nearby cave and she’ll walk to a nearby town to get some clues from any doctors/healers/ANYONE there about the blue spider lily.

During the summer, they stumble upon a village festival. Sakura is happy to join in and they both go around in the night. She plays festival games while he receives a bunch of nervous stares. One of the stands gives her a mask to wear. She puts it on Akaza even though he growls about it. Fireworks start up. Sakura remembers the fireworks in her village and expresses how much she misses them. She takes his hand in hers and he feels the urge to grip it tightly, but pulls away from her and walks back to the cave.

That night after she’s gone to sleep, he feels a bit of regret, wishing he’d held her hand. He’s overwhelmed for the rest of the night, overthinking.

He reads through her journal – apparently she was carrying it back when he kidnapped her. She used to write about the boys in her village, how she can’t wait for her birthday, things so boring and ‘human’ to him. He goes to the present day. She writes about nobody knowing what a blue spider lily is, about how she misses her family, about how she’s thankful that she’s travelling with a demon that’s capable of being kind on rare occasions. He closes it.

Once, while Akaza was summoned by Muzan about their progress, he was nervous about the repercussions she would face. Muzan was pissed they didn’t have anything, but Akaza told him that he firmly believed they were on to something substantial and apologizes on her behalf. After Muzan dismisses him, Akaza returns to her. She welcomes him in and he realizes his feelings for her are much stronger than he anticipated. He doesn’t understand love, but he definitely wants to protect her.

But Sakura doesn’t feel that hopeful. During the day, she often cries her eyes out. Because something like the blue spider lily just doesn’t exist today. It can’t. It’s so absurdly impossible to find that she doesn’t even bother asking. By now, it’s been three years. She wants out, but she knows that she doesn’t have a real future even if she escaped. Muzan would find her at some point and, if he didn’t kill her, he’d make her go try and find it again. Maybe he’d torture her or turn her into a demon. She didn’t want to experience that. It’s hopeless to her. But she keeps smiling at Akaza and making him believe they’re really on to something. She’s afraid of dying. She’s afraid of facing Muzan with nothing to show for it.

It gets lonely on her own for so long, so I’m sure even without reciprocating his feelings, Sakura yearns for human affection and allows him to hold her. She needs it after going through all she has. But she’s dreading the day when she has to tell him that there’s no flower. There probably won’t ever be one.

She wakes up to him snuggling her and calls his name. He backs off, but she immediately coaxes him back to her. She kisses him.

After a few months with absolutely NO LEADS (not even fake ones), she sits with Akaza and is ready to tell him the truth. He stops her and tells her VERY SERIOUSLY they’re going to find it. She argues that nobody knows what it even is. It’s hopeless. Akaza says that Muzan knows it exists, so it has to be somewhere. Even if they have to travel outside of Japan. She’s going to find the flower and Muzan will be able to conquer the sunlight.

‘After that,’ he says, ‘I’ll keep protecting you. Lord Muzan might even give you his blood and make you a demon.’

‘I don’t want to become–’ Akaza grabs her hand before she can finish. She doesn’t speak again and goes to bed. Obviously, deep down, Akaza knows there’s no flower either. He knows. But he would never outright think it because his loyalty to Muzan is unwavering. Whatever Muzan believes to be true, he will believe, too. It’s why she’s still here after all.

They find somewhere safe from the sun, she goes out in the daylight, he stays behind until nightfall, he hunts. When he returns, he crawls into her arms while she sleeps. He knows she doesn’t love him, but it feels good to be close to her. They both find something soothing about it.

Five years. FIVE YEARS. Nothing. Muzan hasn’t called for them yet. Five years is just a speck to him after being alive for as long as he has. Akaza is thankful for it. Sakura is safe.

And she’s older. 23 years old. He thinks about how she could have been married to some nobody with a nice dowry. She could have had one or maybe two children by now. It’s dark. She barely has the energy to go to villages and ask around anymore. Akaza usually doesn’t make her unless she hasn’t done it in a while. She’s not the same. She doesn’t smile as much anymore. But she walks with him at night now. Daylight makes her eyes hurt.

They’re confronted by demon slayers. She warns them to stay away, but they never listen. She still cries when he kills them and never stays around when he eats. While passing by a large village after no hints or clues about the blue spider lily, they see fireworks again. They stop to watch them and he involuntarily reaches for Sakura’s hand.

He tries to kiss her, but she pulls away from him.

It’s not unusual for Akaza and Sakura to be confronted by demon slayers. However, the crows that accompany them have given the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps some intel that a human girl with pink hair is accompanying an Upper Moon. Ubayashiki gives demon slayers permission to kill her along with Upper Moon Three.

They’re surrounded by demon slayers. Akaza can sense a group behind them, attempting to flank them and attack. But he’s under the impression that they’re still willing to save Sakura and kill him. He kills the group to his front and prepares to kill the rest until he hears Sakura scream. She’s being held by a demon slayer, a blade to her neck. The Pillar in their ranks tells him to surrender. Of course, Akaza laughs at the thought. He mocks them until one of the demon slayers threaten to kill her. He bluffs, asking if they’re really willing to kill their own kind. He says that he’s kept her this long to lure out any idiots. It’s an easy way to get food.

They don’t believe him. They know that he has other intentions for her. Something that has to do with Muzan. They stand firm. Either he dies or she does. Akaza hesitates. He looks at her then to the group of twelve – half with their swords directed at her and the remaining towards him. They demand he surrenders so they can cut off his head. He senses more behind them. Reinforcements – that’s new. They’re getting closer. Less than twenty.

Akaza was fast. He could kill them and–

Another Pillar approaches from behind and Akaza dodges effortlessly to avoid the attack. He was fast, but not fast enough. The reinforcements are attacking in a group after Akaza strikes the Pillar down. The Pillar, holding his gut, yells out beyond the cries of his fellow demon slayers.

‘Kill her! Then kill the demon!’

Akaza’s feet never touch the ground as he goes through several demon slayers’ bodies, severing pieces of them into the trees or splattering them on the ground. One slices into his arm. Akaza retaliates by breaking his jaw. A blade breaks against his ankle. Akaza is fast. Akaza is fast. Akaza is–

He kills the man behind Sakura. His head lopped off like a flower’s. The Pillars, the weaklings, everyone. They’re all dead.

Sakura is crying. She’s holding her neck. Her eyes are on him as she reaches out . There’s blood on her fingers.

Akaza’s body feels heavy. The Pillar with the original group laughs, shortened by a few heavy coughs. ‘It serves her right. Turning against her own kind – it serves her right!’

Akaza stomps on his head.

He scoops her up. She’s pale, unable to speak. He looks at her then to the gaping wound where his hand used to be. He didn’t even realize it was missing. That didn’t matter. The wound was closing fast.

He holds her closer. ‘Sakura-san,’ he says, ‘Sakura-san, I’m giving you my blood.’

Blood drips over her face. She turns away and Akaza holds her still, forcing her mouth open. ‘You’re not dying like this. Lord Muzan still needs you! You need to stay! Keep your damn mouth open!’

Her hand weakly pushes against his forearm. He’s growing manic as he makes her ingest his blood. He reopens his wound. She needs more. A little more. He makes sure it enters through her wound just to be absolutely certain.

He kills the occupants of a cave that were camped out overnight and takes over one of the beds for her as dawn creeps closer. He sits there with her resting in the back of the cave, clutching her journal. Dawn breaks. Her legs twitch. Her back arches. She gasps.

She’s covered in sweat. The wound on her neck is covered by a black band tattooed over her neck, just like his. She looks at him, out of breath. He can see her fangs as her mouth hangs open.

‘Sakura-san–’ She ignores him, running to the fresh bodies.

She immediately grabs hold of a severed arm and begins devouring it.

Akaza walks over and squats down as she continues to eat. He drops his hand onto her head and combs his fingers through her tangled hair. A bone crunches and she moves on to the next piece of her meal. Akaza continues to stroke her hair adoringly. She’s alive and safe because of him. He protected her. That’s all he needed.

It takes a week or two of one-sided conversations for her to start speaking. She doesn’t remember anything.

A year passes. Sakura is different. She happily kills demon slayers and hunts humans with Akaza. She eats with him and stays awake in the night. She doesn’t cry anymore. She smiles all the time and listens to whatever he says.

They walk out of the forest with the lights of a village glowing in the dark. A night market or festival, maybe. Akaza ignores it. Sakura stops and stares.

‘Do you remember?’ he asks, when he realizes she isn’t following him. ‘As a human, you liked going to them.’

‘Akaza-kun, how many humans do you think are down there? I’m getting hungry.’

Akaza regrets it. He hates looking at her for too long. Seeing her eat pisses him off. Seeing her kill whatever weak humans that cross their path pisses him off. He rereads her journal obsessively. He shows it to her, explains that she used to write a lot as a human. She smacks it out of his hand, saying that she has no idea what he’s talking about. She wants nothing to do with whatever her human self wrote about. He destroys it.

Muzan meets her in-person. He appreciates her devotion to the cause and praises Akaza on his choice to turn her into a demon. He dismisses them to continue their search and kill as many of the Demon Slayer Corps as possible.

They go out at night: eat, kill, search. Sakura picks fights with him constantly. Akaza wishes he’d let her die instead. She never wanted this and he went against her anyway. Why did he do it? If he hadn’t underestimated the demon slayers and– she’d still be alive and human.

Death would have been merciful. And he took that away.

Time passes. The feelings of regret wither away. Sakura’s clinging to him more and more. She’s happy to be in his company. Akaza doesn’t care.

He enjoys finding strong opponents and fulfilling Muzan’s plans.

She dies at his feet by a Flame Pillar – Rengoku’s – blade. Akaza manages a retreat after killing him, but not without taking a sword through his chest. He leaves behind three other demon slayers. Muzan is utterly disappointed by his failure. Akaza feels numb.

They’re summoned to Muzan’s fortress with the remaining members of the Demon Slayer Corps. His head is cut off. He can hear his father’s voice. He can feel Koyuki’s warmth on his skin. Muzan’s cells are tingling in his body. It’s not worth it anymore. They won. But he can’t go where Koyuki and his father are.

Someone stands beyond his vision. Pink hair. Akaza walks slowly towards her then breaks out into a run and grabs hold of her. So many apologies he’s already given. So many mistakes he’s made. He’ll apologize again for her. He was selfish. He took her life away and left her to die without caring at all.

Sakura holds him. They go to hell together. At least they won’t be alone.

#akaza x sakura #akasaku #knyverse #demon au #Anonymous #long post #my art

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neilswife · 4 years

Text

City of Lights

Neil x Reader

Pt. 2 of Rookie

Requested: No

Warnings: Flirting, a few sexual inuendos maybe, death, blood

This is a little longer than the first chapter. I hope you enjoy!! Their relationship is just getting started.

Reader and Neil arrive in Paris and they get closer.

Y/N’s POV

It was the next day and my heart was pounding as I arrived at Tenet HQ. I had my suitcase in my one hand and my work bag in another. I pushed the doors open and in the lobby was Wheeler and Neil waiting for me.

“What happened to not being late rookie?” Neil smirked. I rolled my eyes and smiled a little before walking over to the two people in front of me. “Hello to you too.” I replied.

“If you two are done here, we should probably get going.” Wheeler laughed. I blushed and Neil cleared his throat. “Right. We have a plane to catch Y/N.” Neil said while grabbing hold of my luggage and bringing it outside.

“Wh-What are you doing?” I asked as I caught up to him. “Getting us a taxi, rookie.” He replied while looking at me and raising his hand. Soon enough, a yellow taxi pulled up to the curb and the driver got out to help Neil put the luggage in the trunk.

We got in the backseat and Neil gave him directions to the airport. “You didn’t have to carry my bag Neil.” I whispered to him. “That’s what a gentlemen does, love.” He whispered back. I blushed and began to play with my hands in my lap.

I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. After about 15 minutes of driving we arrive at the airport, I attempted to pay the driver, but Neil and I had a little argument and he ended up grabbing my wallet out of his hands, putting it his jacket pocket and paying the driver.

“May I have my wallet back now?” I asked in a very sassy tone while sticking my hand out and the other on my hip. He gave me a cheeky smile and took it out of his jacket and rested it gently in hand. I rolled my eyes, but let out a silent giggle as he walked up to the doors and held it open for me.

“Thank you.” I said while walking through.

Neil and I had found our way through airport security in just enough time to catch our flight. We finally boarded the plane and found our seats. I had the window seat and he took the seat right next to mine.

Soon enough, we were on our way to Paris to find the next break in the inverted weapons trade.

On our way to our destination, Neil briefed me on who we were looking for, who we would be working with, and our ‘story’ as to why we were in Paris.

After an hour of talking, I felt sleepy so I put an earbud in and listened to music as I fell asleep.

Two hours later, I was woken up by someone tapping my hand and giving my arm a light shake. “Y/N, we’ve landed. We’ve got to get going to the hotel to get ready for tonight.” Neil whispered. I gently lifted my head, only to realize I had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t-” I began but was quickly cut off by the agent. “It’s fine. You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He replied while giving me a soft smile.

This boy. This man. He is just, too good to be true. Never once have I met someone nearly as sweet and charming as he was. I nodded my head and stood up, grabbing my carry on and heading off the plan.

We found our luggage, grabbed a taxi, and made our way to the hotel. Once we got out of the taxi Neil began, “Don’t even think about taking your wallet out. We are not doing this again.” I shook my head and whispered a small, “Thank you” as I walked through the doors of the hotel.

I grabbed our room keys while Neil paid the driver. He soon came inside and we headed to the elevators. Tenet booked us a suite here, so the room was rather large. I opened the door for us and we both walked in. There were two rooms, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

Neil let me have the room furthest from the door for ‘safety’ reasons he called it. “Alright Y/N, we should probably be getting ready. We have to leave within the hour.” He explained. “Sounds good.” I replied while entering my room and started to unpack my bag.

This is insane, I thought to myself. He is so sweet and charismatic, and he said he wanted to keep me safe. That’s got to be because I’m new right? He acts this way with everyone, I’m sure. He wouldn’t give me special treatment just because I’m new. He’s the top agent here, of course he would want to be closer to the door. He know’s better than me anyways.

I sighed as I let my mind race with the weird thoughts I was having about my colleague. He is pretty attractive though. No! Y/N, what are you doing! He is a WORK FRIEND. That’s all it will ever be. He’s just being nice.

I turned on some music, but kept the volume down low, so it would distract me from my thoughts. I definitely needed some type of distraction.

I began to get ready. I picked out a mid-thigh, tight black dress and paired it with some nude heels. I straightened my hair and did some neutral makeup. Neil said we had to look fancy since we were meeting this weapons dealer at a nice restaurant a few miles from here.

I grabbed my black purse and slid my gun and an extra round in there. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before grabbing a smalljacket and leaving my room.

I walked out to see Neil in a black suit going over some notes. Wow, he looks, hot to say the least. His hair was slicked back, but there was one piece that was hanging down, like the classic 90s look.

He looked up when he heard my door shut and I could’ve sworn I saw him do a double take. “Well don’t you look beautiful.” He said while standing up and fixing his suit jacket. I blushed and replied, “You don’t look so bad yourself, Neil.” He gave me a small smile before walking over to me.

We began to walk towards the door when he stopped and asked, “Do you remember our story?” “I am Victoria Thompson and you are my husband, Peter Thompson. You are a wealthy doctor in England and I am working a side job as the boss of my own fashion line. We met at a night club in Manchester on my 22nd birthday and you were with a few friends that night. The rest is history. We have a German Shepard puppy named Bear and we live in London. We are on our honey moon in Paris.” I smiled proudly.

“Great job rookie. Now let’s get going.” He smiled as he opened the door for me and we walked into the hallway. I thanked him and we made our way to the elevators and out of the hotel.

Tenet sent us a BMW and Neil drove us to our destination.

We got to the restaurant and were brought to a table in the far side of the restaurant. I soon recognized a few agents I have seen around HQ strategically set up around.

Neil ordered us both a glass of red wine and minutes later our guest walked in.

I spoke in my earpiece to the other agents that we have eyes on him.

“Ah, Mr. Kuznetsov! So great to finally meet you!” Neil said while standing up to shake his hand. I stood up as well and Neil snaked his arm around my waist. “This is my lovely wife, Victoria.” He introduced me. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Kuznetsov.” I replied while also shaking his hand.

“Please, call me Igor.” He smiled while kissing my hand. I gave him a fake smile before we all sat down and began to have a light conversation. I stayed relatively quiet and let Neil do the talking because he had a way with words.

He was so clever and knew exactly what to say all the time.

Igor asked plenty of questions about Neil and I and how we met. He seemed, interested? I never did anything like this at the FBI, so all of this was quite new to me.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Igor whispered. I set my one hand on the table, which Neil gave a light kiss to on the back of it and held it gently. My heart fluttered a little, but I brushed it off knowing it was only for show.

“Yes, so what exactly are you working with?” Neil questioned.

Igor explained how his company had come in contact with another company and they had gotten ahold of the inverted bullets and other weapons. I acted surprised and shocked at all the right moments and even asked silly questions like, “How do they work?” and “Have you ever used them before?”.

It seemed as if Igor had liked me, so he explained everything very thoroughly . We had gotten what we needed.

“I am going to run to the restroom, excuse me.” Neil said while standing up and giving me a light peck on the cheek. That was our cue to go into action. “Okay, darling.” I responded.

Table by table, guests started to be evacuated quietly, while I continued to distract our guest. I gripped my purse tightly to my side and I waited for my cue.

Next thing I knew, men started to storm the building and I heard a lot of glass breaking. “Mr. Kuznetsov!” It’s a trap.” One of the men yelled. He looked at me with anger in his eyes and that’s when I jumped up and pointed my gun at him, but he already had his gun pointed at me.

Gunshots rang out through the restaurant. Plates and glass were clattering. Tenet agents began running through and taking down Igor’s men.

I was wondering where Neil was in this moment. For all I knew, Igor’s bullets could be inverted and that could be the end of me.

A man ran up behind him and grabbed him while shooting at me. I ducked just in time, but Igor and the man had gotten away.

“Oh screw this.” I whined and began running after them. Really? In heels? This is great, I thought to myself as I kept running. I had a clear shot of the man, so as any good agent would, I took it and he was down.

Igor looked surprised and scared. He started shooting at me, but luckily I missed every shot so far.

Before I knew it, there was a gunshot and I immediately recognized who it hit. One of the other Tenet agents jumped in front of me and took the bullet to his stomach.

My eyes got blurry from the tears that began to form, but I quickly wiped them away. I pointed my gun and before I could think about what I was doing, I fired three shots.

Two went through Igor’s stomach and one went right through his chest. He was on the ground.

I quickly bent down to see the agent. I met him on the first day. His name is Chris. “Hey, Chris. It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. I promise.” I whispered while putting pressure on his wound. “You’re going to be okay.” I said again.

He gave me a weak smile before his eyes started to flutter shut. “Hey! Hey! No keep your eyes open. Look at me! Hey, Chris. What’s my name?” I asked. His eyes opened and he replied, “Y/N.” I gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Tell me a story Chris. Look at me and tell me a story.” I whispered while continuing to push down on his wound.

Tenet agents ran to Igor to make sure he was down when I heard my name being yelled.

“Y/N? Y/N where are you? Y/N!” I turned and a single tear ran down my face as I saw Neil running towards me. Chris was muttering his story and I tried my hardest to pay attention. His voice started to fade and his eyes started to shut. “No, no, no. C’mon. Stay with me. I got you.” I whispered.

His eyes were fully shut and I heard him take his last breath. Neil was behind me at this point. He put his hand on my shoulder and knelt down beside me. “He’s gone Y/N.” He whispered and he pulled me away.

Medics came and prounounced Chris dead. Neil took me to a medic station to get me cleaned up. I stared blankly as I cleaned Chris’ blood off my hands. The medics checked me for bruises and such, but I didn’t have any.

It was a quiet ride back to the hotel. I stared out the window the whole time while Neil drove. I saw him steal glances at me on the ride.

I have not seen anyone die in front of me before. Let alone try to save them after they took a bullet for me.

We got out of the car and made our way to the hotel room. I didn’t say two words the whole time. I went straight into the bathroom to shower, once we got the door opened.

I was in there for quite a while before Neil knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I simply responded, “Yeah” and finished up. I got out, made my way to my room and got dressed.

I figured Neil wanted to talk to me, so I walked out of my room in a big t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. He was sitting on the couch and looked right at me as I walked into the living room. I sat across from him and he stared at me.

“He took that bullet for me, Neil.” I said in a monotone voice. I saw his face soften. “That should’ve been me.” I whispered while my voice cracked a little.

“Hey, hey don’t say that. You would’ve done the same for him and you know it. I know it.” He said while getting up and coming to sit next to me. “I could’ve avoided all of this.” I sighed. I put my head into my hands and let out a lengthy breath.

“Nobody knew this was going to happen. This is not your fault Y/N. I promise you.” Neil explained. “I could have-” I started, but was cut off. “You could have done nothing to change this. This is nobody’s fault, except for Igor’s.” He said while grabbing my hands.

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. If I did I would start bawling any second. “I never saw anyone die before.” I told him. He squeezed my hand. “Y/N, look at me.” He whispered. I didn’t.

I felt his hand go under my chin and force me to look at him. His features were soft and he looked genuinely concerned for me. “Chris was an incredible agent. He knew what he was doing. Did he know it was an inverted bullet? I don’t know, but he did what anyone of us would do. He died a hero Y/N. Remember that.” He said while letting my face go.

I stared into his eyes and felt tears brimming mine. I slowly nodded my head and looked back down. One tear fell, then two, and then the flood gates were open.

He gently pulled me into him and started rubbing my back. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” He whispered again. I let myself relax into his side. I shut my eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep, while Neil continued to rub my back.

#neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet #tenet imagines #robert pattinson tenet #robert pattinson #robert pattinson character #tenet #tenet 2020

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: You did good. No, you did better than good.

Word Count: 2505

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Portia Barnes, Grant Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Death

A/N: This is it. This is the end of an era. This is the end of me writing Better. I cannot believe I actually managed to finish a fic. Most importantly, I cannot believe so many of you have taken your time to read this and to love this story and Better!Bucky as much as I do. From the bottom of my heart, I would like to thank you all. I am forever grateful for every single one of you. This one’s dedicated to @dramadreamer14 because after the torture that I put her through, she needs this domestic, fluffy, “growing old together” kind of wrap-up for this fic. Pic’s not mine, credit to the owners!

20 years later...

New Hope, Pennsylvania was a quiet little town. No one ever knew that it had even existed. Even Bucky had only come to know of this small town until he had met you. Over the years, you had not questioned why your husband had been sending money orders to your hometown every single month. You knew the answer to that. But you also knew that a few years into your marriage, the payments had stopped. Bucky had not mentioned it to you, but you knew that they had stopped. You did not live under the biggest rock on earth for crying out loud.

When you had asked Bucky about it though, he did not try to hide it from you. He did not lie to your face in the name of wanting to protect you, even if he knew how much pain was behind the answer to your query. Your biological parents had tragically passed away after your childhood home had caught fire and burnt down. A kitchen fire, apparently. It had spread so quickly by the time one of the neighbors had found out and managed to call the fire department, that your parents could not be saved.

Bucky had believed that you had every right to grieve your parents, to feel completely free from them now that they were really gone for good. A fire accident in your childhood home, he had told you. Neither of them survived. As it turned out, your mother had left a will before her death, stating that whatever the remaining amount of money she had left in her bank account should go to the science teacher at your school. After all, she had signed a contract saying that she would cut all ties with you. Of course, she was not going to leave you that money. But it seemed as though, after all these years of never being able to be on the same page, your mother did understand you at some point. She knew that you owed your old teacher so much for that one night of shelter and your mother also owed her that much for ensuring that her only child had not frozen to death. And that was the end of that.

Portia Natalia Barnes never got to know her maternal grandparents, but she knew from a very young age that her mother had not been as lucky as she had been when it came to being the recipient of unconditional parental love. You and Bucky had made sure to let both of your children know that they were loved from the day they were born. You never took them or the responsibility that you had taken on as being their parents for granted. You were honest with them, allowing them to understand that their parents were not perfect. But they were human beings with their own flaws, who thrived to be better. You had given them the space and the openness to be honest with you too. If they ever felt like your parenting was unfair to them, they would tell you. You communicated with them to make sure that they understood the boundaries that you had set for them as their parents and they felt understood as well. You were much better parents that the ones you had.

As the years rolled on, Portia had left your nest to go off to Harvard. Having inherited her father photographic memory, she had been quite a smart kid. When it came to her going to college, she had managed to grab an acceptance to multiple Ivy League schools. Her father had taken it personally that she had chosen Harvard over Columbia, his own alma mater. But truth be told, Bucky was simply not willing to see his little girl go off to live on her own. He had been a very protective father.

While your daughter was attending university in Boston, your son was freaking out over the football tryouts at his high school. While neither you nor your husband was athletically talented, it seemed as though Grant had taken a particular liking to playing sport. Now a senior in high school, he was well under way of getting a football scholarship. Both of your children were doing well for themselves and you could not be any prouder.

And as for you and your James, the two of you had resigned from the hospital when your children were starting school. The two of you had agreed that the unpredictable work schedule that came with working at the hospital was not ideal when you wanted to be raising two children. Bucky had admitted that he wanted to be more present in their lives. As much as he had been raised by a nanny, he was against the idea of you hiring one.

But the time had been right, for Bucky’s friend T’Challa, who had taken over your in-laws’ private practice from them had sold it back to the two of you before moving back to Africa. You and James began working together as partners, dictating your own work hours to accommodate your school runs and running your own clinic at the shelter. The two of you had really built yourselves a life together, just for the two of you.

Of course, this did not mean that you did not get to see your friends at all. Every weekend and the holidays were spent in each other’s company, no matter how far away from each other your lives had taken you all. Even if you all had your own families now, you still made time for each other. In the end, you were all each other’s families and that was never going to change all that easily.

“Mooooom!” Your son whined as he made his way down the stairs, his feet stomping across the hardwood floor with every step he took until he reached the kitchen. For a seventeen year old, he was quite broad and tall. He sure had the built for a football player, towering over your height too. According to your mother-in-law, he certainly took on after his father. But you would not say that he only took on Bucky’s appearance; he had his father’s heart too. “Mom, Portia says she needs the car tomorrow but I’ve got practice. Can you please remind her that she doesn’t live here anymore and the car’s mine now?”

You let out a sigh as you finished chopping up the vegetables, discarding the scraps in the compost bin before walking over to the stove to check on the pasta.

“I told you. I’ll even drop you off and pick you up, you punk.” Your daughter’s voice echoed through the hallway as she followed after her brother. “Mom, I’m just meeting up with my friend for coffee. We have our project due after spring break and we were going to be working on it together.”

“It’s spring break. Why aren’t you taking a road trip to Canada and getting pissed drunk or something like a proper college kid?”

“It’s spring break. Why do you have practice, huh?” She asked her brother.

You turned off the stove before turning around to face your children, letting out a sigh of disbelief. “Have you two seriously forgotten what day it is?” You asked them as you crossed your arms against your chest.

They both looked at each other for a moment before their eyes grew wide in realization of what day it was.

“Oh shit-” Portia quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry, mom! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget, I... I’ll text my friend right now and cancel our study session. I promise, I’m not leaving the house for the whole day.”

“Sorry, mom...” Grant frowned as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the coach and telling him that I can’t make it. Family comes first.”

“As much as I’m a little disappointed that the two of you forgot your father’s birthday, I’m glad that you two are at least fighting about study sessions and football practice.” You admitted, chuckling softly. “Help me finish up with dinner and set the table? Dad will be home soon and it’s been a while since we’ve had a family meal with all four of us.”

“Of course.” Your daughter smiled as she walked around the kitchen counter to wash her hands. “I’ll roast the vegetables.”

“I’ll drain the pasta.”

“And I’ll finish up the sauce!” You announced and the three of you worked together to finish cooking before your husband got home.

Dr. James Barnes was a lucky man. At sixty years of age, he was happily married to his wife of twenty-two years. With a successful private practice and a part-time position teaching anatomy at Columbia Medical School, he had learned to keep himself busy with work while still managing to have a family of his own. He had two wonderful children who loved him dearly and were well onto becoming responsible adults. He was not worried about their future; they were good kids.

His goddaughter on the other hand though, he was worried about her for sure. “Sarah, I’m telling you. Being my little niece does not mean that you’re going to get special treatment in my class.” With an eye roll, Bucky made his way upstairs right after he entered his home.

“But that doesn’t give you any reason to be twice as hard on me, Dr. Barnes.” She told him sternly as she watched him ascend up the stairs. She walked into the dining room, her expression a little softer as she greeted you. “Hey, Aunty Y/N.”

“Hey, sweetheart... will you be joining us for dinner this evening?” You asked your beloved niece as you finished setting the table. Just as you had been a regular visitor of the Rogers-Carter household when you had first started working with Steve and Peggy, Sarah was a frequent dinner guest as your house as well.

“Do I have a choice? I have an anatomy quiz after the break that I’m supposed to study for and my professor’s a jerk. Uncle Bucky... offered to help me study tonight.” Sarah Rogers, in the way she carried herself and spoke her mind, was her mother’s daughter. But when it came to her constant banter with Bucky, she was all Steve. “I’m telling you. If I end up dropping out of med school, it was your husband’s fault.”

“This... is exactly why I went off to Harvard.” Portia pointed out as she walked over to Sarah and pulled her into a hug. “Cheer up, Rogers.”

“Wait, I thought Uncle Bucky is your professor...”

The girls turned around to give Grant a look of disbelief.

You gave him a pat on the back. “Let’s finish setting the table, baby.”

Your husband made his way downstairs after freshening up, having changed into a pair of sweatpants and a Henley. Even after years, he still liked to separate his personal and professional lives with how he dressed. When the two of you were home, you rarely spoke of work. Your children had always been your priorities.

James’ hair had a hint of grey now. But that only made him look much more attractive to you. The years had been kind to the two of you, despite a few wrinkles here and there. Your physical appearance did not matter much to you though, for your hearts were still the same? You loved each other just as much as you did that night in your hospital room and that was never going to change.

After a long-awaited family meal, the children got busy with doing the dishes while you found yourself heading up to your room for a quick shower. By the time you had changed into a pair of pyjamas and made your way downstairs, you found Sarah and Portia huddled on the living room floor with their textbooks laying wide open around them. Grant had followed their example and grabbed himself a book to read while he laid on the couch – The Merchant of Venice, which was apparently now being taught in his high school English class. He really was his father’s son.

Bucky sat in his study, reading through his emails. As you knocked on the door and poked your head through, he looked up at you with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors at this time, doll. But I’ll take it.”

You walked into the room, making sure to close the door around you. “So, this is where you spend all of your free time after... a hard day’s work and a good family meal.” You told him with a wink.

He chuckled softly as he stood up from his seat. “Well, I do think that there’s a lot more value to my time if it’s spent in the presence of my wife.” There was a teasing tone in his voice and you knew that he had caught on.

“Hm... flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Barnes.” You giggled as you walked up to him, leaving up to quickly peck his lips. You were cautious, for you did not want the children to see you like this. “A wise man once told me that I was capable of being so much better than what life had to offer me. Happy birthday to him, I guess.”

“I think there’s still a few hours until midnight.” He said, his eyes darting to the wall clock behind you.

You reached into the pockets of your robe and pulled out an envelope. “I just thought I might give you your present a little earlier...”

“What’s this?” Bucky asked you as he took the envelope, his eyebrow raised at you as he stepped back to retrieve the letter opener from his desk. He carefully tore through the envelope before retrieving the tickets to your romantic vacation destination.

You watched as he looked down at the tickets. “A wise man also told me that if I really wanted to live like I’m in the Merchant of Venice, all I had to do was hop on a plane.”

He turned around to give you a cheeky grin. “A romantic getaway to Venice? Really, doll?”

“I think we both need one, don’t you think? Now that Portia’s out of the house and Grant will be moving out soon.” You shrugged. “We can just travel the world like free birds, just you and me.”

“I think I’d like that.” He agreed as he walked back to you and kissed you softly.

You giggled as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you took in his scent. “We did good, James...” You admitted, laying your head against his shoulder and shutting you eyes for a moment. You wanted to savor this, for every single intimate the two of you shared was precious. You still saw it as a blessing, having a wonderful husband like him and beautiful children.

“No, I think we did better, Y/N.”

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