It had been years since I last heard the dentist drill but man not long enough

Cavities | Matt Murdock x Reader

masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gender neutral!Reader

Summary: based on this request by a lovely anon. You need to have your cavities taken care of. Matt offers to stay by your side.

Warnings: none (not proof read)

A/n: I hope you like it! I’ve never had any cavities and the last big procedure I had was my wisdom teeth removal, so I tried my best to write something that’s comforting enough. It’s pretty short, I think you can count it as a Drabble. I wish you all the best of luck, anon, and that everything works out!

If you take a look at the doctor profession, there are some doctors we are naturally programmed to fear. One of those being the dentist. Don’t get me wrong, you go to your mandatory appointments — albeit hesitant — get your teeth checked like any other adult and then go on your way. You’ve always been a little queasy, but it’s been tolerable so far. Until your doctor walked into the room the other day and revealed that your perfect teeth, that you have claimed to be perfectly healthy, are actually quite a little damaged.

When he came in to tell you that you had eight cavities, you almost instantly lost your mind. It would mean you’d have to get it fixed because cavities and crowns are not something you want to wait with. But it’s one of those procedures that make you want to rather die than sit in that godforsaken chair and let them drill into your mouth.

You have already searched for your passport and found your travel-sized bag in the closet of you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment. If you left the country, it surely wouldn’t kill you, right? You can’t say it hasn’t actively crossed your mind. You hate going to the dentist, especially when higher things need to be done than just the occasional check-up. Your past experiences have not left you with a good memory. And even though your dentist is the kindest doctor you can think of, you can’t bring yourself up to relax. All you can think about is how you don’t want this and you’d rather die than let your mouth be poked open and drilled into. The sounds, the feeling, everything that you connect with the experience already drives you crazy long before you’re set for your appointment.

But unlike all the times before, you’re not alone this time.

“Eight cavities,” you whine as you roll over in bed, the piece of paper that signed your demise on the living room table. “Eight cavities, Matt!” you say louder and he flinches at your voice so close and loud to his sensitive ear.

“And they want to fill four. Four, Matt! At once.”

Matt chuckles. He's already dressed in his work attire while you’re left in your pyjamas. “You’ve said that about a million times, sweetheart,” he says.

“Because it’s not fair! What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“It’s a standard procedure. It happens. Most of us will get cavities at least once in our lives. There is literally nothing to be ashamed or worry about.”

You give a dramatic sigh. “God hates me.”

“He doesn’t.” He kisses your forehead gently from where he bows over you. “I strongly believe God loves you more than anything. You’re gonna be fine. I’ll be there and hold your hand all the way through, okay? I promise you. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

“The drill is gonna hurt me,” you retort.

When you weakly told your boyfriend about the whole Dilemma, he didn’t laugh at you, although it seemed like he wanted to. Instead, he understood and he offered his help. You were more than surprised to find him so willing to hold your hand, but you agreed. You wouldn’t say no to his everlasting support. Though the closer the date comes, the more nervous you’re starting to feel, and suddenly his support seems a little less important because it still feels like they are going to kill you in that stupid dentist’s office.

You haven’t properly slept since you got the news, he knows that, but he also knows he can’t take away your fear entirely, no matter how much he wishes he could.

“They’ll numb the area,” Matt explains. “You won’t feel a thing. The pressure, maybe, but that’s normal. It’s not gonna hurt you. You’ll see, you’re gonna feel so much better after. There is nothing you can’t do, okay? You’re one of the strongest people I know.” This time, he plants his lips on yours in a living kiss that screams in his supportive nature.

You ease into his touch, allowing yourself to relax a little.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he says.

You sigh. “I love you too.”

“Good. Can I leave you alone now or are you gonna start tearing the walls down?”

“I’m okay.”

“Alright. I gotta get work, get a head start so my missing tomorrow won’t be as bad. You know, new client and all that.”

His steps disappear out of the bedroom and into the living room. As soon as he’s even just an inch from you, your mind begins to reel again.

“What if they take my teeth?”

Matt groans. “They will not take your teeth!”

“They might,” you say. “And you can’t tell if they are because you can’t see them. You’d just be like, what are they doing? Sounds weird, but I’ll allow it. And in the end I’ll wake up without my teeth.”

“They won’t take your teeth. What would they want with a whole set of teeth anyway?”

“I don’t know, sell them? Use them as prosthesis for other people without teeth?”

“Okay,” he laughs, “No one’s gonna sell your teeth. They’re important, you still need them. Dentists are not teeth thieves. And even if they were, your boyfriend’s a lawyer. I can sue them.”

“You would do that?” you say.

He pokes his head around the corner of the bedroom. “Of course, I would. You’re the love of my life. Now stop overthinking or I’ll take you with me and tie you to Foggy’s desk.”

You don’t stop overthinking, not until you walk into your dentist’s Office the Next day and the sterile smell as well as the sight of all the instruments before you almost give you a heart attack.

You turn around. “Nope, not gonna happen.” But Matt has already grabbed your shoulders and forced you to stay.

“Sit,” he instructs.

“No.”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s scary, but you’re not alone. This is not a torture chamber and you are not on death row. So sit down!” He pushes you into the chair.

You groan. “Matt, please, let’s just fake my death. I… I don’t want to do this.” Your lip quivers and your voice starts to shake. The stress is tearing away at your bones and you’re this close to getting your passport and feeling.

This close.

Matt catches the frustrated tear that slips your eye with his finger. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and your head is turned away from him and all the torturous Instruments before you.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. After this, I promise I’m gonna cuddle you for as long as you want,” he says oh-so-sweetly. “And when you’re allowed to have ice cream again, I’ll get all your favorite flavors. We’ll have an ice cream party.”

“Even chocolate?” you ask.

“Even chocolate,” he says.

“But you hate chocolate.”

“I’d do it for you. I’d do anything for you.”

You look at the hand he is offering you, then his soft smile and the white light reflected in his red glasses. And though your limbs are shaking violently, you take his hand and he instantly pulls you close. He holds your hand with an intensity that gives you strength. The look on his face and his hand are enough to ease some of the anxiety.

The nurse compliments you at some point, “What a great boyfriend you have!” she says. You smile and nod, but it doesn’t hit the mark.

You’re still shaking by the the time they pull out the sedative.

“I don’t like this,” you murmur. “Can’t we just go?”

“It’s that or the pain,” says the nurse.

“I don’t like to be numb.”

Matt squeezes your hand. “The pain is only gonna be worse if you don’t take it,” he says. “I’m here, okay?”

You think about it, but eventually nod to give the go-ahead. Your nails dig into his skin and it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything.

As soon as the sedative has set and you can barely feel your mouth anymore, the rest of the procedure goes smoothly. There is no doubt in your mind that without Matt, you would have gotten a heart attack.

“Bad experience with dentists?” the doctor asks halfway through the procedure when he catches sight of how tightly you’re holding your boyfriend’s hand.

You glare at him. With his pesky little fingers in your mouth, you can’t speak.

Matt jumps to your defense. “Bad is an understatement,” he says.

“Well, we’re almost done.”

You thank whatever God he believes in once the ordeal is finally over and you allow yourself to breathe again. Your tongue is flapping around funnily in your mouth and you can't feel anything, but it’s better than the pain.

“Good job,” Matt cooes into your ear. “I knew you could do it.”

You huff. “Jus’ ‘ake me home.”

“You sound even funnier than when you’re drunk.” His eyes crinkle and he giggles when he senses the murderous look in your eyes.

“‘M gonna shove my foot s’ far up your ass…”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You’d have to reach that far first.”

You land on the bed exhausted, drained and numb. When Matt tries to leave, you grab his hand, afraid he might leave you miserable like this.

He shushes your pleas. “I’m just getting some comfortable clothes and some water for you. I’ll be right back and then I’ll cuddle you, okay?” he says. “I promised to take care of you. I’m not gonna leave you.”

And he does. He comes back with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. He gets you dressed, fluffs your pillows and gets an extra blanket. There’s water and some snacks once you can eat again on the nightstand and his arms land around you, finally, after what feels like an eternity.

Until you’ve found a comfortable position it takes a while, but once you do and his heartbeat sounds strong in your ear, you can’t help but sigh and let the exhaustion fall off of you.

“And,” he muses, “was is it really that bad?”

“The worst,” you slur.

He chuckles, rubbing your back with his large hand. “It’s alright. Dentists are scary. But you’re okay now. You did it and you didn’t kill anyone in the process.”

You snort.

“Kidding! You really did good. I’m proud of you. And now it’s over and you don’t have to worry anymore. There is nothing you can’t conquer,” he says, “and you prove it every day, sweetheart.”

Another tear slides down your cheek and onto his shirt. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for telling the truth. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, Matty.”

“C’mon, get some rest. I’ll be right here with you. And tomorrow, ice cream.”

You snuggle into his warm arms, completely disappearing as you melt like an ice cube.

“Ice cream,” you sigh in approval.

You couldn’t have asked for a better companion, let alone a better boyfriend. There is no one than can match up to Matt Murdock and the dedication he gives to the people he loves — the dedication he gives to you. And with him by your side, getting a few cavities filled feels just a little worse than it actually is.

Gallavich Story Starters

Prompts for fics, headcanons, or discussion, art, etc. Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt/wording! If any fics like any of these have already been written, please feel free to recommend them to me!

These are a bit different from sentence starters because there is more detail than a quote/short sentence but less detail than some of the prompts in my themed sets. Think of them as mini prompts/summary prompts.

Ian’s 100% sure that he’s got the wrong address - after all, he’s supposed to be mowing the grass. But when the guy wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxer-briefs waves him inside, he’s not sure what to do. Still, he can’t help following the man into the house.

Mickey sits on the steps of the police station and wonders where to go. He doesn’t want to go home and he can’t face the Gallagher place. Maybe he should just buy a bus ticket and see where it gets him. Then his cell rings and everything changes.

It’s not like Mickey wasn’t expecting to be diagnosed with something. It’s just he didn’t expect a whole goddamn list of things. He wishes he’d brought Ian into the doctor’s office with him instead of making him sit in the waiting room.

The army instantly rejects him. Ian’s plan falls apart in seconds and he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere. There is one person he could call to come and get him from an army base, but he’s not sure they’ll answer.

Mickey’s released from jail after one year when the bullshit charges are dropped. That means he’s a free man, right? Not exactly, he’s give six months parole. Distrustful after his experience in the system, he’s suspicious of his parole officer - Ian Gallagher.

Everything is good - they’ve got a good life, so he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly waking up every night in a cold sweat. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s triggered the nightmares but once he does, it’s undeniable.

It’s Ian’s fault he’s here. He’d gone on and on about it until Mickey gave in. Now Mickey’s sitting in a dentist chair waiting for them to put him under. They better give him the good drugs.

Ian’s got a shitty job he hates and he’s just signed a lease on a tiny apartment with a boyfriend he kinda likes. Everything’s going ok. That is, until he meets his next-door neighbour. It’s a man he didn’t expect to see again for six years. Mickey’s got parole and he didn’t even tell Ian.

Lip doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be wide awake in the spare bedroom of his little brother’s apartment wondering where the fuck everything went wrong. He doesn’t want to be jealous that Ian’s life with Mickey is going well and his isn’t.

Ian doesn’t know why he’s nervous. He’s married, for fucks sake. It’s just a date. Still, he and Mickey have never had a date like this before and he wants it to be special. Maybe he’s trying too hard but Mickey doesn’t seem to mind.

This is not Mickey’s beautiful house, this is not Mickey’s beautiful wife. He wonders, “well, how did I get here? and where the fuck is Ian?” Something is very wrong and he doesn’t know how he ended up here. (Based on the song Once In A Lifetime by Talking Heads)

It’s these late night conversations in bed that Ian likes the most. Cuddled up together in the darkness, being honest about anything and everything. He’s never felt more in love.

Mickey’s had one drink and already he’s decided he can’t do this. He tries to tell himself that it’s ok, that he doesn’t need sex or a relationship, that he’s happy being alone. Then a handsome redhead sits down next to him and offers to buy him a drink….

They’ve bought a brand new bed and Mickey’s being weird about the fact it’s in the middle of the room. Then Ian gets it, they’ve always slept on beds pushed against the wall.

Ian’s not jealous of their cat. He’s not. It’s just…she seems to like Mickey more than him and when she sleeps on top of Mickey at night, he can’t put his arm around his husband.

Their eyes lock across the room, the noise of the prison seems to fade. Mickey can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ian can’t be here? Can he? He wants to run across the room but he stops himself and instead swaggers over like it’s no big deal. Pretends like he’s just going to see the new guy. (Based on this question sent to @gallavichfanficlibrary)

Mickey was expecting to order takeout and chill out in the bedroom while Ian and Lip had their fun little brotherly bonding session in the living room. Somehow, he was waving goodbye to Ian and Lip wearing shit-eating grins (and Freddie without a shit-eating grin) as Tami led him out the door promising him a night of fun.

Ian’s cat is a thief. Everyday he returns home with a new pair of underwear which he deposits on Ian’s bed. Boxers, briefs, jockstraps and even a couple of interesting black lacy numbers. Meanwhile, Mickey thinks he’s going crazy - why does his underwear keep disappearing?

BRACES

Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader (again this is based off my own experience with braces seeing as I had them on for almost five years, I do not recommend)

You were not happy. Like at all. Sam and Dean were making you get braces. Well, more like Sam was making you get braces, since sometimes he was the more responsible one. Dean was ok with you getting braces, but Sam was thinking about your hygiene and being able to do the most normal things a kid your age would do.

You were currently sitting in the dentist’ office sitting between Dean and Sam, losing your freaking mind over what was about to happen. Dean grabs your hand.

‘Hey, it’s going to be fine, don’t stress so much’

‘Easy for you to say, have you ever had braces’ you fired back

‘Well, no… ‘

‘Paige Winchester’ a nurse called you all look up you look towards your brothers

‘You’ll be okay tiger’ Dean encourages. ‘You want us to go with you?’ Sam offers, but you shake your head no. You stand up and walk towards the nurse as she greets you with a smile. She takes you into a back room for X-Rays.

‘Ok, so we are going to put you in a chair then we will get started shortly.’ she explained. You just nodded as she got things set up for when the doctor came over.

The whole process was painful. They put these clear orange goggles on you. Then they started gluing the brackets on your teeth, then started putting the wire on your top and bottom teeth. The minute you had the wire on you felt the pain.

‘Ok Hun, you're all set, we will see you in six weeks.’ You waved goodbye and came out to the waiting room where your brothers were waiting. You went to the desk to sign out. You walked over to your brothers, and you just kept a straight face at them and walked outside of the office with them.

It was silent on the way home. It was an awkward car ride. You kept your mouth shut. The sound of silence was deafening for your brothers. You got back to the bunker. You got out of the car and tried to go straight for your room.

‘FREEZE.’ you heard dean yell

‘Come on tiger let’s see it’ Dean said as he crossed his arms. You shook your head not wanting your brothers to see it.

‘Come on kiddo it can’t be that bad’ Sam encouraged ‘come on one smile’ dean persisted.

You half smile in pain, ‘it hurts to smile’

‘Aww you look cute’ dean said

‘Sure’ you said rolling your eyes ‘It’ll be over before you know it, I promise’ same said as he kissed your forehead

this was going to be painful

Fourth fill for @mungrovebingos!! This one is gonna be about Billy getting his wisdom teeth taken out and Eddie taking care of him afterwards. Story is under the cut, I hope everyone enjoys, and Ao3 link is here.

Prompt was "Free Space", and it's 3,790 words.

It was the middle of July when Billy had set to go to the dentist to get his wisdom teeth removed. He was terrified, mostly because his experience with doctors was never really positive growing up, and anesthesia scared him to death, but after his last dental check up, they’d told him he had to get them out soon or else they’d start to cause him problems, so he had to just bite the bullet and get it done.

Thankfully, he wasn’t going to be in it alone. Max had promised to help take care of him while he recovered, and of course his wonderful boyfriend Eddie would be there, too. He was the one that was going to drive them to and from the place, and since he lived at the trailer just across from theirs, he swore he’d be there every second to make sure Billy was okay. 

Finally, the day came around, and Billy almost faked a migraine to avoid getting out of bed. But of course, Eddie and Max saw right through it, making him get up, but allowing him to at least stay in his pajamas as they carted him off to the dental clinic.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Eddie had said on the way there, “This is one of the most common medical procedures there is! And Max and I will be there with you the whole time.”

“Yeah, it won’t be so bad. Think of it this way, you can either get it done now, or you can whine like a baby and wait to get it done until it’s already painful as hell and your mouth is all fucked up,” Max chimed in from the backseat, adjusting her glasses. 

“I guess,” Billy huffed, slumping down in his seat, “Still, it gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll hold your hand the whole time,” Eddie offered, flashing a smile before refocusing on the road and driving the car. 

They finally pulled up outside the clinic and Eddie and Billy helped Max into her wheelchair, all three of them going inside to the front desk to get Billy checked in. The receptionist told them that a nurse would come get them shortly, so the three of them went to sit in the waiting room. Billy was fidgeting so bad that Max eventually wheeled herself in front of him, asking him to braid her hair for her, just so he had something to keep his hands busy. It wasn’t the most pristine hairstyle he’d ever do for her because of the way his hands were shaking, but it kept him occupied long enough for the nurses to come out and call his name.

“Billy?” A young nurse called, looking over the waiting room. She had long brown hair that was pulled back and a pair of brown glasses on her face, and her scrubs had pictures from Winnie-the-Pooh scattered all over them.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Billy finally said, after taking a few more deep breaths. Eddie squeezed his hand as he stood up, and Max gave him a thumbs up as he followed the nurse back into the office.

“Nervous?” She asked, smiling over her shoulder as they walked. 

“A little,” Billy admitted, looking at the ground.

“I get that,” the nurse said, “I was scared to death when I got mine out when I was younger. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. The worst part is right now, when you have the time to worry. But it should only take about an hour and then you’ll be good as new.”

“You get commission pay if you give that pitch to all your patients?” Billy asked, his heart racing as he was finally shown into a room.

“If only,” the nurse said, smirking at him as she set his file down on a countertop and began to pull on a pair of gloves. Billy sat down in the chair and began to drum his fingers on the arm rest, trying his hardest to calm down. The nurse said it was a simple procedure, and that this was the worst part right here, so he didn’t have anything to worry about. But he couldn’t help the way he began to sweat as the nurse started setting tools out on a metal tray, each one looking sharper and more painful than the last.

“Okay, are you Billy?” Another voice called as they whisked into the room. It was the doctor or dentist or whatever that was going to be doing the surgery, and Billy felt his lungs getting caught in his throat when he saw him. He didn’t look mean, in fact, with his dark hair and short, round body, he looked like a big teddy bear, but still, the fact that he was going to be cutting Billy’s mouth open still gave him the willies. But he managed a nod, and the man smiled, so he tried to force himself to relax again. 

“Good! I’m Dr. Hartford, I’m going to be doing your procedure today,” the man said, picking up Billy’s file and opening it. “Okay, so it says here that you’ve got all four of your wisdom teeth that need to be extracted, all of them impacted, so we’re gonna give you a bit more anesthesia than normal just to make extra sure you don’t feel any pain. We’re not gonna put you completely to sleep, but you’ll be kind of drifting in and out while we work, so you might remember some things, but most of it you won’t. Like I said, it shouldn’t take long, and then after we sit you up and make sure you’re alright, we’ll send you home. Did anybody come with you today?”

“Y-yeah, my friend and my sister, b-b-but I’m not so sure this is such a good idea anymore, uh,” Billy felt his legs jiggling a little as he began to sit up, panic taking over, “I think, uh, I just gotta think this over a little more before we start cutting my mouth open, so-”

Billy tried to get up, but the nurse laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and slowly pushed him back down.

“I know you’re nervous, Billy, but I promise, nothing bad is going to happen. You won’t even know it when I start, you won’t feel a thing, and it’ll be over before you know it. Do you need a minute to get yourself calmed down before we start?” Dr. Hartford asked, his voice still soft and calm as he smiled sympathetically.

“Yes, please,” Billy mumbled, his fingers trembling where they laid on the arm rests. 

“Okay, Casey and I will be right back. Is there anything else we can do to help you relax?” Dr. Hartford asked as he stood, putting Billy’s file back on the counter.

“Um, yeah,” Billy said, trying to swallow down some of his nerves, “Is it okay if my friend came back here and sat with me, just until I’m put under? I know with my sister it’s probably a no because of her wheelchair, but can I have Eddie here?”

“That’ll be fine. You take a moment to calm down and we’ll bring him back, alright?” Dr. Hartford said, then he and the nurse, Casey, left the room. 

They returned a few minutes later with Eddie in tow, allowing the two boys a few minutes by themselves before they went back in to start prepping Billy for his procedure.

“They said you wanted to see me,” Eddie said as he sat down on a chair next to Billy, taking his hand and squeezing it.

“I don’t wanna do this, Ed,” Billy practically whined.

“I know you don’t, but you kinda have to. Besides, once they knock you out, you won’t feel a thing. And like I said, I’ll be right here with you the whole time. Then Max and I will take you home and take care of you. It’s gonna be fine,” Eddie said, leaning over and giving Billy a quick kiss to help calm him down.

“You promise you won’t leave me?” Billy asked.

“I promise. Now, can I tell the doc that you’re ready to go?” Eddie asked, flashing another bright smile to make Billy feel as safe as possible.

“I guess. Let’s get this over with,” Billy said, rolling his eyes as Eddie went to go get the doctor. He and Casey walked back into the room, both wearing surgical gloves and masks as they began to get some things ready behind Billy. Casey came over and put an IV drip in his arm, Billy having to squeeze his eyes shut and grip Eddie’s hand to even let her near him. He would deny it until his dying day, but he whimpered as the needle finally poked into his vein, and Eddie had to talk to him like he was a little boy again to keep him from hyperventilating. 

“Okay Billy, we’re gonna start the anesthesia now,” Dr. Hartford said, “Now, just breathe normally, and it’ll be over before you know it. Just try to relax.”

Billy really didn’t remember much after that, just like the doctor said would happen. He had a couple of vague memories of the doctor or Casey asking if he was okay, a few snippets where he saw gauze or a tool hovering over his mouth, and an inkling of time passing by, but other than that, nothing. The only thing he knew for sure the entire time was that Eddie was still there, holding his hand just like he said he would. 

The first real memory he had after the procedure was finished was of Eddie still holding his hand as the doctor helped him sit up, telling him to take his time to get his bearings before they tried to head out. The memory was fuzzy, though, and his head was still kind of floaty, so much so that nothing even felt real, it felt more like a dream. He could vaguely hear Eddie talking to the doctor as he tried to piece together why his face felt like a puffer fish, but he didn’t catch much. That is, until Eddie helped him get to his feet and keep steady as they walked out of the clinic.

“How’d it go?” Max asked as they walked out, trying not to giggle at Billy. He looked like a chipmunk with a nut allergy.

“Good. He’s still loopy from all the drugs, but he should be fine by tonight. At least, that’s what the doc said,” Eddie replied as he leaned Billy up against the van so he could dig out his keys and help Max into the backseat.

“‘M sleepy,” Billy butted into the conversation, the gauze in his mouth muffling his words, “Wanna go t’ sleep.”

“Okay, baby, just wait a second,” Eddie cooed, finally getting Max into her seat and folding up her chair to put in the back. “Why don’t you sit in the back on the ride home so you can stretch out and relax, okay?”

“M’kay,” Billy said, letting Eddie help him into the back. He laid down on the seat with his head in Max’s lap, and he closed his eyes as Eddie got back up front and started the car. When he opened them again, Max smiled down at him, combing her fingers through his hair to keep him calm, but Billy took one look at her and burst into tears.

“Billy? What’s wrong?” Max asked, “Are you in pain? What’s happening?”

“What’s going on back there?” Eddie asked, glancing back at them through the rearview mirror.

“I-I jus’ love ya s’ much, Max,” Billy blubbered, tears falling down his cheeks like waterfalls. “I don’ tell ya ‘nuff, b’t I love ya t’ pieces, ya silly little bug.”

“Aww, Billy, I love you, too,” Max said, doing her best not to bust out laughing. Billy was never very expressive about his affection in words, more so in actions, so it was normally like pulling teeth (pun fully intended) to get him to say something like this to her. But right now, he was so delirious that he was just saying whatever was on his mind, and it was adorable.

Billy was in and out of sleep for the rest of the ride home, dozing on Max’s lap for the most part, but every so often waking up to say something or make a noise. At one point, he woke up as Bohemian Rhapsody began to play on the radio, and he began to sing along to it as best he could. Eddie almost crashed the van from how hard he laughed at his boyfriend’s antics. He really put everything into that performance, and he conked out again right after.

As they were driving back to the trailer park, Eddie saw a Wendy’s drive thru, and he and Max decided to stop for some lunch. Billy was still asleep in the backseat, but Eddie knew he’d probably be hungry when he woke up, so once he ordered his and Max’s food, he ordered him a chocolate Frosty as well. 

“Where are we?” Billy asked just as Eddie pulled forward after placing their order.

“We’re in a drive thru. Max and I were hungry, so we decided to get Wendy’s,” Eddie responded, inching up just a bit more. As Billy started to cry again. His face was still blotchy from the last time, and Eddie swore he could feel his heart melting a little as Billy sniffled.

“What’s wrong now, Billy?” He asked.

“Those doctors stole m’ teeth,” he whimpered, “How’m I gonna eat?” 

Max couldn’t help herself, she started laughing this time, having to hold Billy's head on her lap so she wouldn’t jostle him too much. He could still tell she was laughing, though, and it only made him cry harder.

“‘S not funny, Max!” He said, trying to shove her hands away, but only succeeding in pawing at the air.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she continued to giggle, but trying to get it under control.

“And don’t worry, Bill, you still have your teeth, they only took the ones you weren’t using anyway,” Eddie tried to reassure him, “Besides, we got you a Frosty. You don’t even need teeth to eat one of those, so it’s all gonna work out fine. Does that sound good?”

“Uh-huh,” Billy said, Max helping him to sit up as Eddie started handing them their stuff. He gave Billy his Frosty and a spoon and Max helped him to eat it, having to wait until he was a little more awake to let him eat it by himself.

When they finally got back to the trailer park, Billy was still out of it, but at least he was awake enough to make it inside without needing too much help. They went over to the Mayfield’s trailer and, once inside, Max kept Billy entertained until Eddie could make him a bed on the couch. He couldn’t help but laugh as Max tried to keep him occupied by reading him a book, but he kept taking the things in it seriously, as if he and Max were having a real conversation. At one point, Eddie had to chase after Billy before he could get outside, since he thought Max was telling him about her dog that ran away, and he thought he had to go out and try and catch it for her.

“I gotta go catch the yellow dog,” he’d said when asked where he was going, and Eddie had to make Max put the book away lest Billy actually manage to get outside and end up hurting himself. 

Finally Eddie had finished making him a bed, and he helped him take his shoes off so he could lie down and relax for a while. As soon as Billy’s head hit the pillow, he was out again, and Eddie and Max were glad for the break. They turned on the TV and relaxed in the living room, making sure that he was alright as he slept through the afternoon. Eddie only woke him up twice, once to help him take some medicine and once to change out the ice packs strapped to either side of his face. Other than that, he let him sleep as much as he wanted.

This only became a problem a couple of hours before he woke him up to eat something, when Billy began to talk in his sleep. It was still muffled from the bandages, and because he was asleep, it only became further slurred, but he and Max could still make it out if they tried hard enough. 

“I c’n’t help ya if ya don’ fill out the right form!” He insisted with his eyes closed, making Max smile a little.

“What do you think he’s dreaming about?” She said, suppressing a giggle. She knew Billy was in pain and still high, so she didn’t want to make fun of him too much, but she was only human, and Billy was rarely ever this funny.

“Having some kind of office job, I guess,” Eddie said, smiling a little at the thought. Billy would be the cutest office worker ever in his opinion.

After that, Billy was quiet again for a while. Max had gone back to trying to learn how to crochet (she might never ride her skateboard again after what happened to her, so her therapist had suggested trying to learn another hobby) and Eddie had gone back to making a batch of Uncle Wayne’s famous vegetable soup for them to have for dinner. He’d needed to run across to their own trailer to get something for it, and when he’d come back into the living room of the Mayfield’s place, Billy decided to pipe up again.

“Awwww shit, here comes pencil man,” he said, and Max couldn’t contain her laughter this time.

“What?” She said, though she knew Billy was asleep. Still, this was the most out of pocket thing he’d said all day, and she couldn’t help but find it hilarious.

“He’s gonna send off the penis rockets,” Billy explained, as if that made any more sense. Max was full-on cackling at this point.

“The what?” She asked again, tears starting to stream down her face, “Who is pencil man?”

“Max, stop talking back to him. I know it’s funny, but he needs to rest. Just let him sleep, quit messing with him,” Eddie said, though he was on the verge of laughing, too.

“Yeah,” Billy chimed in, “Pencil man will fuck you up!”

After that, neither of them could help the way they laughed. They had no idea what he was talking about, didn’t even know if he knew, but it was hilarious. Unfortunately, they laughed loud enough to wake Billy up, so Max had to find another way to keep him entertained again until Eddie finished with dinner.

After they ate, Billy laid back on the couch and stayed mostly quiet as they watched a movie on TV. The drugs were starting to wear off at this point, but he was still a little delirious. Finally, the sun had set and it was getting late, so Max wheeled herself off to bed and left Eddie and Billy sitting side by side on the couch as another movie started after a commercial break. It was some kind of romance movie from the 40’s or 50’s, Eddie really wasn’t paying that much attention to it, but Billy seemed invested, so he left it on.

“Hey, c’n I tell ya a secret?” Billy asked at some point, just as Eddie started to drift off himself.

“Hmm?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter to try and fend off the exhaustion.

“Ya see the way she’s lookin’ at ‘im?” Billy asked, pointing at the TV screen. Eddie squinted at the picture, then looked back at Billy.

“Yeah?” He asked, not quite understanding where he was going with this.

“She’s lookin’ at ‘im like that cuz she’s in love,” Billy said matter-of-factly. “

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, still confused, but deciding not to question it.

“Yeah,” Billy sighed, settling back down on the couch. “I think ’m in love, too. With Eddie. That’s m’ secret. But ya can’t tell ‘im, ‘kay? I wanna tell ‘im myself s’metime. Jus’ not yet. So ya gotta promise t’ keep it a secret.”

Eddie smiled so wide his face hurt as Billy said all this, his cheeks feeling as warm as the summer air outside and his heart fluttering like a deranged moth to a lamp.

“Okay, big guy. I promise,” he said, kissing his cheek gently as Billy went back to watching the movie. After all, he loved him, too.

Billy was pretty much back to normal by the next morning. His face was still swollen and he still needed help taking his medicine and keeping his bandages clean, but he was no longer as silly or dazed as he was the day before. Max was a little disappointed, but she was glad that he was getting better. Still, she couldn’t help but still giggle as she thought of some of the things he did and said the day before. Especially as she recounted the events to Billy himself.

“Oh my gosh, it was so funny!” Max said as they ate breakfast the next morning. Eddie had slept on the floor by the couch the night before just in case they needed anything, so he’d gotten up early that morning to make them breakfast, too. Poor Billy couldn’t eat anything solid yet, so he had to choke down oatmeal that was so soggy, it was more like grain soup.

“I’m glad my being in pain amuses you, Maxine,” he said, it coming out a little clearer without as much gauze in his mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you were so high you had absolutely no filter. And then you started talking in your sleep and I swear, I died!” She said, still giggling as she ate her toast.

“She’s just trying to get your goat, baby. It really wasn’t as bad as all that. Although, some of the things you said really were funny,” Eddie said, smiling at him sympathetically and leaning down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Yeah, especially when you started going on about pencil man!” Max said. Billy just gave her a confused look, blinking at her like an owl.

“Who the fuck is pencil man?” He asked, completely lost. Eddie bit his lip to stifle a chuckle as he tried to explain. Max just laughed so hard, orange juice came out of her nose.

how 'bout a kiss?

A/N: while scoping through prompts, I fucking died when I saw this one from a personal experience at my job. thus this bad boy was born. Reader is a dental assistant at the only dental office in Hawkins. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Talking Eddie into going to the dentist was something that Y/N thought would never happen. After all, when hearing about all his traumatic experiences that Eddie had as a child, even she wouldn’t have the guts to go in. But ever since landing her job, (as though a miracle or something), at Doctor Randall’s office, Y/N has learned a lot about the dental field. Like for instance, how important it was to floss, especially since when she was working with her doc, when she pulled all of the food out of Mr. Clarke’s teeth, which left a gaping hole, it woke Y/N up.

Since that day, Eddie has been a victim of Y/N going on and on about the importance of good dental hygiene. The horror stories that she would listen to would do enough to make him shiver and even rethink his own morning routines. “Really?” Eddie grimaced, holding off a gag, “someone had FUZZ on their teeth? Literal mold-like fuzz?”His girlfriend only nodded slowly, her face in a twist of disgust. “And babe the SMELL. Oh my god, Doc and I were going to pass out. It was fucking disgusting.” Y/N whined, shaking herself as a way to rid her of the thought. “I kid you not, Randall was going to pass out. She was literally walking around after we numbed him saying she should just take the damn teeth out.”

Staring at Y/N, after a huff, he caved. “Y/N just get me an appointment.”

“W-what?” 

“Get me my damn appointment, Jesus H. Christ!”

And there he was, in the same dental chair that fuzz tooth was. Y/N was quick with the x-rays that were needed, after somehow convincing Dr. Randall that she truly wouldn’t need them all, but only because she didn’t want Eddie to get too freaked out with how stupid they tended to be. Y/N was in and out of his room checking in on him and making sure he was okay. Of course, he got a little amused when she saw how out of breath she was, due to her busy morning of extractions and fillings. “I promise you, we will be right in here baby, I want Doc to give you all the attention she has left.” She assured before popping back out in action. It didn’t take long, after about 5 more minutes waiting, Y/N came in with a wide smile upon her face. In towing in behind her, a female shorter than her, red hair all up in a bun with baby hair sticking out. 

A busy morning indeed.

“Good morning Eddie, I’m Dr. Randall, it’s nice to meet you officially!” The greeting making Eddie scrunch his face in confusion. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too Doc.” He replied, nerves making him mumble. Y/N was quick to step in behind him, sitting in the assistant chair as she gathered his x-rays for viewing, her hand fell onto his shoulder as she gave him a light squeeze. 

“Okay, so Y/N told me everything about your previous experience with your last dentist, so I’ve decided that to make your life a little easier, I’m just going to go over everything I see.” Doctor Randall said, earning a sharp nod from Eddie. “Everything is going to be okay, Eds, I promise.” The promise that Y/N gave caused him to exhale sharply and slump his shoulders in defeat. 

Everything is going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.

After a minute or two of Doctor Randall looking over his x-rays, and a quick examination of his mouth (that Eddie discreetly gripped Y/N’s hand for), a happy sigh escaped Doc's lips. “Welp, good news! Just one cavity! Your bone levels look great, and the cavity is actually really shallow. Y/N, can you chart down a shallow occlusal on 18?” Doc asked, removing gloves. Y/N gave a sharp, satisfied nod as she began to write down the findings. Eddie began to look around, wide eyed. “Does that mean I have to do it now? Y/N, I don’t wanna do it now.” He panicked, that flash of his childhood dentist's face flashed in his mind. Y/N, ever the mind reader, quickly came to his side. “Nope, baby. You can come in whenever I’m working, so you’ll have me by your side. Okay? Doctor Randall isn’t Doctor Stinson, I promise.” She assured, as the dentist backed out of the room to give them privacy. 

Eddie breathed in relief, closing his eyes for a moment to calm his racing heart. “You must think I’m a pussy.” He mumbled, earning a squeeze of his hand. Looking up, he saw Y/N’s face of disapproval. “Eddie, baby, I literally had someone sob because Doc just entered a room. Don’t be so hard on yourself, dental phobias and anxieties are completely normal.” She stated, running her fingers through his curly hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. 

After Eddie calmed down, Y/N bit her lip. Should she? Shouldn’t she? Would she be an asshole? Remembering one of the stories that Eddie once told her about his former dentist, one that made them both laugh. Giving him a beat of peace, Y/N leaned forward, showcasing her cheek. “Now, how about a kiss?” She asked, tapping her finger on her cheek. A scoff was earned paired with an eye roll. He chuckled, placing a quick kiss upon her cheek before placing another one of her lips. 

“You’re lucky I love you, smartass. When’s my next appointment, dental lady?” 

Maybe the dentist won’t be so scary after all.

Smile Bright: Your Guide to Choosing the Best Pediatric Dentist for Your Child

Introduction

Taking care of your child's dental health is an essential responsibility as a parent. Regular visits to the pediatric dentist can help prevent tooth decay, gum disease, and other oral health issues in kids. However, choosing the right pediatric dentist for your child can be overwhelming with so many options available. Fear not! In this article, we'll provide you with a comprehensive guide on what to look for when selecting the best pediatric dentist for your little ones. So sit back, relax, and get ready to smile brightly!

How to find a good pediatric dentist

Finding the right pediatric dentist for your child can be a daunting task, but it's crucial to their oral health. So how do you find a good one? First, start with referrals from trusted sources such as friends, family members or other healthcare providers. You can also check online reviews and ratings of local pediatric dentists in your area. Once you have some potential candidates, research their credentials and experience. Look for dentists who are board-certified and have specialized training in pediatric dentistry. It's also important to consider the office environment - is it kid-friendly? Do they use age-appropriate language when speaking with children? Are the staff welcoming and accommodating? When visiting potential offices, take note of the equipment used and overall cleanliness of the space. A good pediatric dentist will prioritize infection control measures. Don't hesitate to ask questions! Inquire about their approach to dental care for children and any specific treatments they may offer. Remember that finding a good pediatric dentist is an investment in your child's oral health that will pay off in the long run.

What to look for in a pediatric dentist

When it comes to choosing a pediatric dentist for your child, there are many factors that should be taken into consideration. One of the most important things to look for in a pediatric dentist is their qualifications and experience. Ideally, you want someone who has specialized training in treating children and has years of experience working with kids. Another crucial factor to consider when selecting a pediatric dentist is their ability to communicate effectively with both you and your child. A good dentist should have excellent communication skills, be able to explain procedures in an age-appropriate manner, and put your child at ease during appointments. In addition, it’s important to choose a pediatric dentist who prioritizes prevention over treatment. This means they focus on educating parents and children about proper oral hygiene practices, as well as providing preventative treatments like fluoride applications or dental sealants. Make sure the office environment is kid-friendly and welcoming. A good pediatric dental practice will have toys or games available in the waiting room, decorations that appeal to children (like cartoon characters), and staff members who are friendly and patient with kids. By keeping these factors in mind when selecting a pediatric dentist for your child, you can ensure they receive high-quality care from someone who understands their unique needs as young patients.

Questions to ask a potential pediatric dentist

When searching for a pediatric dentist, it's important to ask questions in order to ensure that your child receives the best possible care. Here are some key questions to consider asking during your search: 1) What is your experience working with children? You want a dentist who has experience and knows how to make kids feel comfortable. 2) Can you walk me through what happens during a typical appointment? It's important to understand what will happen during visits so you can prepare your child mentally and physically. 3) How do you handle anxious or fearful children? If your child is nervous about dental visits, it's crucial that the dentist has strategies in place to help them feel at ease. 4) Do you offer sedation dentistry options if needed? In some cases, sedation may be necessary for certain procedures or for particularly anxious children. 5) Will parents be allowed in the exam room with their child? Some practices allow parents in while others prefer parents wait outside. Make sure this aligns with your preferences as a parent. Asking these types of questions can help ensure that you find a pediatric dentist who will provide high-quality care for your child.

Things to consider before choosing a pediatric dentist

When it comes to choosing a pediatric dentist for your child, there are a few things you should consider. Make sure the dentist is qualified and licensed to practice in your state. You can check this information on the dental board website of your state. Consider the location of the dental office. Choose an office that is convenient for you and your child's schedule. This will ensure that you don't miss appointments. Look into the dentist's experience and reputation among parents in your community. It's important to choose a dentist who has experience working with children and has positive reviews from other parents. Another factor to consider is whether or not the dental office accepts your insurance plan. This will save you money in out-of-pocket expenses. Additionally, take note of how comfortable and welcoming the dental office environment feels for both you and your child. A friendly atmosphere can make all the difference when visiting a pediatric dentist. Always trust your instincts when making a decision about which pediatric dentist to choose for your child's oral health needs.

Conclusion

Choosing a pediatric dentist for your child can be an overwhelming task, but it's a crucial one to ensure their oral health and well-being. By following the above steps on how to find a good pediatric dentist, what to look for, questions to ask potential dentists, and things to consider before making your final decision, you can make an informed choice that will benefit your child in the long run. Remember that finding the right pediatric dentist is not just about their qualifications or experience; it's also about building trust with both you and your child. By selecting a dentist who puts children at ease during appointments and makes them feel comfortable throughout the process, you're setting up positive associations with dental care that will last a lifetime. So take some time to research different options in your area, get recommendations from friends and family members if possible, and don't hesitate to schedule consultations with potential candidates before making any commitments. With careful consideration and attention paid towards these essential factors when choosing a pediatric dentist for your child, you'll be providing them with excellent dental care every step of the way.

mama said to smile while I still have teeth.

(or) Post Starcourt, a very different Billy Hargrove gets his wisdom teeth removed.

--

In a moment of weakness and textbook junior year assholery, Steve gets his stomach ripped out and fed to him for suggesting that Billy could take the bus.

And it’s not without reason.

Hopper and Joyce have work. And Robin would ask too many questions--why the shaved head, why the ratty black hoodie and sweatpants, why the perpetual vow of silence--and the only one of the kids that has their permit is Dustin.

But Max behaves as if none of that matters. Looks at Steve as if he set the house on fire himself.

“Or you could take him.” She sneers. Like that’s somehow a good idea. “You have a car.”

“Billy wouldn’t get in a car with me even if you paid him.” 

Steve doesn’t say he’d rather face a barrel of Demodogs one handed than be left alone with Billy. Would rather lick black slime off his own dick than feel those silent, cool blue eyes pouring like ice water down the ridges of his skin.

Steve wants to say it. Doesn’t. When Max starts crying. “His legs don’t work as good anymore.”

“Billy gave me a concussion.”

“He’s got gas money.” She says, voice winding tight with desperation. 

And Steve despises the painful, weeping grip of her fingers when they close around his forearm. Hates that she cares so much for someone who could never care for her.

“I know it’s not much.” Max swallows thickly. “I know he used to be a piece of shit, but he’s--”

“Different.” Steve says heavily, scrubbing at his forehead. “I know.”

--

Billy slides into the passenger seat with a thermos in one hand and a cranberry muffin in the other and Steve isn’t used to it, the way his body seems to have deflated. Limbs cut from marianette strings, hanging limp as if gravity hasn’t quite learned what to do with them. 

Billy places the muffin and the thermos on the dashboard between them, and.

Steve expects something.

A thank you, which could come later. A hello, which should come now.

Billy nods at the dashboard.

Steve jots into action. “Oh. These aren’t for you?”

Billy grunts, reaching to pass the goodies over as if Steve were incapable of doing it himself. The thermos is warm in Steve’s hand. Sturdy. 

“Coffee?” He asks, jerking with surprise when Billy mutters; “Hazelnut.” In a voice as soft as feather down. 

Steve waits for Billy to say something else, but. 

Billy doesn’t. He just turns and peers out the passenger side window, into the gentle swell of rain that’s started to fall.

“Thanks. Thank you.” Steve says. He starts the car. Lets it warm, and. 

Tries not to feel like this is the first time their bodies have had to reacquaint themselves with one another. 

Tries not to marvel at how beautiful silvery thin lines can be. Running from the shell of an ear and disappearing, quick, into the hood nestled around broad shoulders. 

Steve rubs his hands together, tearing his eyes away. “First time at the dentist?”

And Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Never says anything, anymore, but. That doesn’t stop the conversation from feeling communal. Shared.

“I got my wisdom teeth out when I was fourteen.” Steve peers through the windshield. It’s raining harder now. “Don’t remember much about the whole thing. Mom says I tried to stop the aquarium fish from drowning. And that I had to be double belted on the way home--”

“Will it hurt?” Billy turns to look at him, and. His eyes are welling up. Cheeks and nose red, as if stung by October winds. 

Billy whispers, “I wanted Max to come but she had school.” 

His hand is covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, fabric scrubbing rough at the stubble along his jaw. “Did they hurt you?” Billy asks, and.

Steve doesn’t like the way he says it. 

Like there really is something to be afraid of, at the core of it all. Like no one has ever considered the possibility.

“It’s not so bad.” Steve’s heart gives a painful, gripping thud. “You get a free ice pack out of the deal and decent high from the silly gas, if you’re lucky.”

Billy nods. “We’re gonna be late.”

Which. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s alright.”

“We’ll get you there lickety-split.” Steve pulls out of the driveway, fingers gripping the wheel when Billy places the still-warm muffin in his lap.

--

He sticks around for the procedure just to stop Billy from looking like he’s being dropped at his first day of kindergarten. The waiting room is bright. Warm and colorful, plush couches stocked full of overstuffed pillows. All within throwing distance of machine labeled free coffee :)

Not a bad dig, all things considered, but.

Billy says Steve doesn’t have to wait around. Doesn’t even have to come back at all. The nurse calls his name and Billy stands, shoulders lined with tension, before turning to whisper, “I’ll take the bus back to Neil’s.”

And Steve knows. Gets it. 

The universe running a test. An experiment that will prove whether Steve’s really got a heart under all that chest hair. 

Steve lifts his Highlights magazine. “I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Dude, It’s pouring outside,” Steve says, shaking his hair out for good measure. “I’ll just wait. In case you’re too high to function.”

Billy looks like he wants to say something else, so. Steve gives his full attention. Plans on the preverbal thank you that’ll probably never come, but. The nurse calls that name again. 

Billy Hargrove.

And Billy turns to go, hands tangled in the sleeves of his hoodie. 

--

His cheeks are swollen, like. 

A chipmunk. 

Stuffed full of little cotton pads that could be acorns. That are acorns, Billy insists, when the nurse brings Steve back to the operation room. He’s parked on the dentist bench. Curled into a ball with a thumb in his mouth when Steve rounds the corner. 

“Steve,” Billy says thickly. “They took my teeth out but I have acorns.” He reaches across the space between them, fingers grasping Steve’s wrist tightly.

Too tight, but. 

Steve can’t bring himself to care when the nurse says, “Billy, take your thumb out of you mouth.”

And Billy says. “I need to suck on something cold.” He pulls Steve right up to the edge of the bench, sitting with a serious glint in his eye. “Our acorns will be good for winter, right?”

He sways, nearly falling off the leather table, so.

Steve grasps his shoulder. Puts him back in place. “Probably? I don’t think acorns go bad.”

“We gotta make sure, ‘cause I don’t want you to starve.” Billy slurs, dropping to dead weigh when the nurse gets an arm underneath him and asks Steve to get the kid on his feet. 

Billy lands somewhere against Steve’s ribs, swaying dramatically as bright red drool slides over his chin. 

The nurse swears under her breath, going at it with a towel. 

Billy swats her hand away. He staggers as Steve thanks the nurse and leads them into the waiting room. 

“You’re so pretty, Stever.” Billy reaches out again, fingertips poking Steve’s eyelid. “Can’t starve for the winter. Gotta get pretty boys their acorns--”

“Stop poking me--”

“Acorn soup.” Billy sings. “Acorn pie and casserole and lollipops covered in sugar.”

Steve manages to get the doors open with zero help from Billy, chuckling as warm, soft palms circle around his shoulder blades. 

They’re hugging. 

In the rain. 

At the dentist’s office.

Steve hugs back, squawking when Billy’s nose brushes against his heartbeat. “C’mon, dude, we gotta--”

“Will you carry me, Stever?”

“No.” Steve says, manhandling Billy from his chest to his ribcage, determined to make it across the lot in one piece. “You’re solid muscle, there’s no way I could carry you.”

Billy makes a noise, pretty pink lips forming a pout when Steve looks over at him. 

“I got all the acorns ready for winter and you can’t carry me to the car?” Billy grumbles, leaning against the side of the Beamer while Steve gets his key into the lock. 

Steve untangles himself from the arms that fold around his waist. “Billy--”

“You smell like grass.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, like sweet grass.” Billy cackles, doubling over at his own joke, and. Pulling Steve down with him. “Sweet ass, right?”

“You’re insane.” Steve whispers, somehow out of breath from. The hands on his neck. He let’s Billy pet through his hair and then Steve yanks on the door handle, opening it, like, “Alright. Get in.”

Billy has more blood on his face. “Wanna sit with you.”

“We will.”

“Can I lay on your chest?”

Steve’s face hurts from smiling. “You won’t fit.”

“I could!” Billy whimpers, jerking away from Steve as he tries to get the blood off his chin. “I could be like a kitty cat--”

“Would you just--” Steve gets his hands on him, wiping at Billy’s mouth with his thumb. “Hold still, alright?”

“Alright.” Billy kisses Steve’s finger. Chaste and quick, gone before either really know what’s happening. Those blue eyes pull Steve in, drink him down. “How come you’re so pretty?” Billy asks. 

And. “Dunno,” Steve says, sounding just as out of breath as he feels. Like they’ve been running laps, and. 

Steve thinks maybe they have.

All around Hawkins. Through the years. Past each other. 

Billy holds still under the weight of ten fingers before frowning. Sticking his little swollen lip out. “Can we go home now?”

Steve backs away, gripping the edge of the door. “Sure.”

“Not to Neil’s,” Billy mutters to himself, leaning into the leather seat when Steve gets his limbs folded into the car. He cranes his head, eyes huge and watery. “Can I hang out with you?”

Steve moves to close the door. “Sure.”

Billy stops him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Billy.”

“Then why are you trying to close the door?” Billy demands, peering through narrowed eyes. 

Steve chuckles at that, squeezing the fingers that curl into the palm of his hand. “We gotta close the door so we can drive the car back to my house.”

Billy yanks his hand away. “Your house.” He says, as if tasting the words on his tongue.

Steve nods. “Do you want to go to my house?”

“Do you have macaroni and cheese?”

“Yeah, I can.” Steve wills himself to stop smiling. “I can make some after you take a nap.”

Billy stops the door from closing again. “I’ll be cold if I try to sleep.” 

And he says it like.

No one’s ever believed him. Billy speaks with an anchor in his voice, the weight of it pulling Steve in. Forward, until he understands. 

Steve grips the edge of the door. 

Nods. Let’s Billy know that there are ways around it. 

Billy’s crying, and. Steve doesn’t want to see him cry anymore. Every again. They’ve been through too much. He takes Billy’s hand and squeezes tight, smiling softly when cool blue eyes peer up at him. 

“Then we can eat macaroni and watch T.V.--”

“We can?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “And when you’re ready to go home I’ll take you. Keep you safe.”

He moves to close the door, chucking when a firm, sure hand holds it in place. 

Billy stares at him. “What if I never wanna go home again?”

Steve thinks about it, tapping his knuckles on the hood of the car. He shrugs. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Billy says.

This time, when the door is closed, Steve runs to the other side. Not wanting to miss a single moment.

Dr Suave x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Y/N visits her old neighbourhoods heartthrob (And ex babysitter, embarrassingly enough) at his work on her spring break, and its eventful for them both.

Warnings: Age difference (He’s like Early to mid-30’s and you’re early to mid-20’s), sexual references, sexual references, good old fashioned lust

Notes:

Random song that inspired this- Big Girl Now by New Kids On The Block.

So my take on Dr Suave (A.K.A Doctor Bradford Young), as we didn’t actually get to se much of him unfortunately (In fact that movie infamously does not utilise its best assets at all to the measure they should’ve but whatever, that’s what fanfiction is for XD ) is that he’s got a kind of Brad Pitt thing going on? Like, a little accent, a little Aldo Raine syndrome? Haha XD I hope that bleeds through and works.

~

“Oh-Kay… “Dr Young sighs, drying his hands with a paper towel before throwing it away into the wastepaper basket by his desk, finished up with his last patient. “Marg,” he calls out to the receptionist working today, a sweet little old lady with some particularly nice canines as he opens the door, seeing her perk up at his reappearance. Flashing her a charming smile, he nods. “Why don’t you send in my next appointment? I’m all ready for ‘em now.”

“Yes sir! Uh, that would be a… “Marg looks down at her list (Which, much like Santa Clause, she has the good sense to check twice unlike one of the other receptionists… that bitch has ugly molars, too.), then looks out to the waiting room in which still sits a couple anxiously waiting patients, to a young lady sitting with her back straight and one leg crossed carefully over the other. Perky would be the perfect word for her. “L/N. Y/N L/N.”

Even with the name, Dr Brad Young finds it a struggle to recognise her. It’s been a fair few years since his focus has been solely on this girl like it is now- or, woman. This woman. Because that is for sure what she had grown into during those years. Where in the world did that cute as shit little girl go? All he sees now is a wicked smile, and soft hair, and legs… and legs… and legs… goddamnit, those legs on her now-

“Dr Young?” Marg speaks up again, because evidently, he had paused for too long and he finds himself grateful for her intervention because even with her nudging he has trouble tearing his only slightly sinful-feeling gaze away from Y/N, who’s getting up and that skirt looks great on her and-

“Ah, I’m fine, Marg. Thanks.” Flashing her a wink, he steps back against the door to his office so Y/N can go through, and watches as the receptionist rolls her eyes and goes back to typing away on the old box-computer they had. Y/N passes him by, slipping into the room and his attention is totally taken by her as he closes the door behind them both.

Setting herself up onto the patient’s bed, legs hanging off the side, Y/N flashes him a bright smile. “Doctor!” She greets, winking.

“Y/N L/N as I live and breath; What a surprise.” Young grins back; He can’t help it. He meets her at the chair and taps her nose, watching the corners of her smile wriggle upwards even more. “If I remember right, you hate the dentist.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not here for an actual check-up, dummy. I just heard you work here, and I’m back home for spring break, and thought it’s been way too long since I saw you last!” She exclaims, dropping her hands on his shoulders. “Thought I’d give you a visit.”

Now he can’t help but gather her body up in a nice warm hug, and feeling her against him is a surprisingly different experience he finds, now. Man, has she grown up. “Ahhh, I’m glad you did. How’ve you been??”

After giving him a tight squeeze back, they both retreat from each other completely and feel an odd emptiness about it; But Y/N doesn’t dwell on it too long as she swings her legs. “Not quite as good as you, clearly.” Making a show of scoping out the room they’re in, set up exactly the way he likes it, she smiles genuinely. Happy for him. “You’ve got your own practice! That’s what you really wanted, right? But hey- I see no dentists assistant. How come, huh? You too territorial, or something? Haha.”

“Allows me better one-on-one time with the patients.” He replies, a certain mystique to his tone. Y/N raises her brows back at him, but he just smirks back. “Privacy, you know.”

“Right… “She giggles, feeling like air in his presence once again. It really had been too long; And memory can only serve a girl so well. She missed ‘Doctor Young’, after she went off to college (A lot), though he was just Brad when they lived on the same block Oor Dr Suave by her and the other schoolgirls that noticed him). ‘Dr Young’, has a nice ring to it as well, though. “So, how long do you think you can hang with me for before your next patient? Couple minutes?”

“We can push it to half an hour I think- we’ll just tell Marg you got a filling.” He winks, and as it always has- causes butterflies to erupt in her stomach. She nods in understanding, and he grins, leaning closer to her. “And just to be safe… open up, there. I’ll have a look so you don’t have to lie.”

“I don’t mind lying… “ She says, looking up at him from under eyelashes and playing almost… coy, if he didn’t know any better. God, is she? Or is it just wishful thinking? “Like you said, dentists always did make me nervous.”

“Aw, even me?” Especially you, she thinks. Not for quite the same reason, but still. Suddenly, without her notice of its approach, his hand is on her thigh. Her almost, bare, thigh. The only thing between his skin and hers being her short as skirt.

“You are no exception, Brad.”

A surprised chuckle comes out of him, not used to being called his first name in the office. “Okay, okay… hurt my feelings, why don’t you?”

Instead of feeding into his playful guilt trip, Y/N just smirks. “Toughen up. We’re in the real world now, Doc. This isn’t my parents’ house, and I’m not your play patient, anymore.” She’s referring to the times he would babysit her, when she was younger and he was in his teens. The parents always trusted him to babysit the neighbourhood kids- they still to this day do not know that he was the one most of them new the intricacies of the ‘Friday the 13th’ franchise, from.

They would play dentist together back then, because basically from diapers this man has wanted to become one. Brad would be the professional, of course, and Y/N would let him ‘play doctor’. It was a lot of fun, back then. He would open her mouth up and use a musk stick to poke around in there, making up problems with stupid made-up remedies like you have to pick up all your toys and put them away to fix this, or you have to eat all your veggies for this tooth to grow back, and occasionally he would get a tickle in, when she wasn’t expecting it. She hated him, for that. But could never stay mad for too long, as just as he had always wanted to be a dentist- he had always been charming as fuck, too.

Now, of course, Y/N had a different type of fun in mind when it came to Dr Bradford Young. In fact she had had it in mind since she turned 16, but then he was far too old for her. He was still, many years older then her now of course but the difference didn't seem quite as offensive now. She was an adult. So was he.

But what fun she may have with him was entirely up to him and if he would catch her hints, of course. She knew today was a risk; Coming to see him and wearing this short-short skirt, but she could resist.

And he grins at the memories himself right now, but seems totally preoccupied by her. In their present. “If you’re not a play patient Y/N, then I’m going to have to ask you to open your mouth for me. No special treatment for friends, I’m afraid.”

“What!” Y/N exclaims at that immediately, pouting at him.

“Come on,” He holds her chin between thumb and forefinger, smirking in amusement at her reaction. His eyes are on her mouth which is bad enough for her feelings, but it could be analysed away unfortunately due to the setting and the context of their conversation, which is even worse. Damn his profession- Y/N would have to admit, though, that even if he were just looking at her like that for purely medical reasons, it is a nice sight. Daydream fuel for weeks! “Open wide for me, sweetheart.”

There’s something about how he used to say ‘sweetie’, but its now suddenly changed to ‘sweetheart’, that causes her to give in. Allowing him to gently guide your lips apart, and switch to holding her jaw in between his fingers instead as he concentrates; Making his assessment.

Oh god- Y/N has never experienced such an oddly intimate moment before, or ever felt more self-conscious about her teeth, of all things-

Yet she can’t help focusing on him, as he takes a few moments to really look. The focused, intrigued expression on his face - almost a smolder, though she wouldn’t be surprised if he just couldn’t help looking that good, - a far cry from the frustrated look on any other dentist she’s ever met with. And it is mesmerising.

As Y/N’s sitting there, legs slowing to a stop instead of swinging and eyes wide watching him, Dr Young cant help but just admire her teeth for a moment. Yes, he’s really only doing this to get closer to her - too easy, - , but he is a dentist. He just can’t help taking notice, of evidence of healthy eating- of teeth grinding- of nail biting- of the peppermint gum she evidently had just before coming in… Basically, of a lot of things that he’s missed out on knowing about, as he hasn't seen her. Its an odd reminder, that she has still been around, living, and being… this new, gorgeous adult and somehow, he hadn’t known it. He hates that. He thinks, if he had known… if had known… fuck, things would be different right now.

Maybe instead of playing doctor like this to get close to her he would have her bent over his desk.

A few moments pass, before he finally allows himself to let go of her again. She closes her mouth, pretty lips touching each other now instead of his unfortunately, and torturously, enough. Damn, he needs to do something about that, soon. Flashing her a smirk, though, he steps back but definitely doesn’t miss how those lips press more firmly together at his hand leaving her thigh- a tell-tale sign of her displeasure if he ever knew one, and he does in fact know them. She wants him, but that’s not a huge surprise. Honestly, he’s used to people - silly women, mostly, - falling all over him.

It definitely is a good thing though, seeing as its her and not just any other silly woman, even if it’s not a surprise.

Even so- why jump the gun and miss out on some fun? He won’t give away his own cards too soon, he doesn’t think. It’ll be fun to see her try to get his attention, even though she definitely already has it.

“So, Doc. How are they? Don’t need to get out any scary tools, do you?” She jokes, a devastatingly cheeky grin on her face. “Drills,… scalpels,… that disgusting numbing stuff?”

“Disgusting?” Well. He’s heard plenty of complaints in this office but that one is knew. That numbing stuff is a god send for some people.

Chuckling, she nods. “Yep, I can name a couple things just in this room that’d taste better. Honestly, you’d think you people would have made that shit in better flavours by this point.”

A slow grin spreads across his mouth. “What kinda things?”

“Hm?” An innocent look clouds her round eyes, looking at him as her head tilts to the side. And goddamn… seeing it... it takes a lot in him not to end the game just like that. What is she doing to him?

“What in this room would taste better, Y/N?”

Immediately the answer comes to her and she exclaims, clearly; “Ink!” It makes him laugh, a soft and seductive sound that she was not at all prepared for and because of which can only stare at him in shock for a moment, fingers gripping the edges of the dentist’s chair on either side of her thighs. Hoping he doesn’t notice.

He does. But she needn’t know that quite yet, he decides.

- But then Y/N shakes off that awe-struck look in her body language and in her eyes and replaces it with a sly eye roll and a smirk, and he is gone.

Yes, he thinks. She does need to know he’s noticed her. She needs to know he saw. She needs to know so that he can do something about his hands aching to touch her again. Anywhere and everywhere but first of fucking all those goddamn legs-

“Mmm, oh I can think of something a bit more appetising than ink, Y/N.” An adorable, sexy little gasp actually slips of out her this time, when he puts his hand on her thigh again; The material of her skirt entirely too perfect to boot. Her eyes flash from his hand to his eyes, and before his own eyes he watches the little girl turned grown woman he knows develop a little bit of vixen in her. A little bit of seductress. Whether she means it or not, it hits him hard.

An eyebrow peaks up her forehead, and a little grin plays at her lips. Half a - disbelieving, surprised, aroused, - chuckle bleeds into her voice. He cant possibly be hinting towards what she thinks he is, right? Its just her imagination. “Like what, Brad?”

He breathes in deep, in response, making a show of looking thoughtful. Like oh, what could he possibly be thinking of right now?... Then he shrugs, polished and self-confident as ever. He comes closer again, too close now for them to be any misinterpretations and eyes brooding as hell. Its honestly not fair at all, to poor Y/N. “Like… you?”

Aghhhhhh- “Now, how am I supposed to stay all cute and seductive myself, man, if you keep looking at me like that and pulling off lines like those!” She suddenly exclaims, cheeks warm suddenly and head falling back in exasperation. It makes him laugh again, the air light around them as he straightens up and guides her chin back down.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute.”

She can't help sighing, but neither can she help the pleased smirk on her lips as she avoids his gaze. “Thank you.”

If she had looked at him then, she would have caught him blatantly check her out in that moment. His dark eyes making a sweep of her form; Before landing firmly on her lips again. And this time there is no room to misread his intention. “And really fuckin’ hot, too.”

Her cheeks heat up even worse then; Practically flaming. “Dr Young,” Y/N gasps, playing outraged even as her body temperature gives her away. “I don’t think this is professional behaviour at all! I need to report you, I think, to the, um, the- “Suddenly, because they both know he’s too close to her for her to come up with truly articulate teasing’s right this moment and he’s dying to do so, Dr Young presses forward and presses his lips show-stoppingly to hers in their first searing kiss, that she had been waiting far too long for and he was just today slapped in the face with needing. It truly muddles her brain, so when he pulls back she really loses sight of her vocabulary. “The- the um… um… “Another kiss saves her again, the sound of him just breathing through his nose setting her off to kiss him back properly, this time. She pulls back, this time, lust-hazy eyes flickering up to his. Her lips already feel brutalised and hot, and he looks so good. She desperately wants to mess up his perfect hair. “I give up.”

“Thank fuck.”

Her hands travel up into his hair and his find both her thighs finally, under her skirt, and their lips collide once again.

BonelyHearts Reader Insert7

{Gender Neutral!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Dental woes

Where were you again….right…on the couch contemplating on why the universe decided to torture you. For a week now you had a terrible toothaches; you were sure it was on the right side of your mouth, hell your cheeks was so swollen you looked like a chipmunk hiding acorns in your mouth. You got back from the dentist and….

“Abscess tooth? How on earth can something like that happen?” Nox sat by you, your head resting on a ice pack.

“…Abscess teeth….” You whimpered.

“Call me country bumpkin…-on second thought don’t- but what on earth is an abscess tooth-er teeth.”

You weren’t sure if you had the time to explain…no…you did you just didn’t have the energy. You pulled your phone out, tapped a few buttons and showed it to Nox; he proceeded with the video. You watched from the corner of your eye his expression going from ‘unimpressed’ to ‘oh dear lord what did I just witness?!’ among a few others. He trembled as he returned your phone.

“…I’m going back now that I finish my antibiotics…then they’re gonna drained the puss an…mmmph..” oh you couldn’t tell him the rest, these skeletons had a bit of an issue about teeth.

Cleaning them sure was one thing but you didn’t want to tell him that you were also having your wisdom teeth removed, they were the main cause of your abscesses. Instead you decided to change the subject just slightly..

“Do…you think one of you guys could drive me to my appointment and back?”

Nox gave you a sideways glance. “You do know you have your own car right?”

Well he was gonna be no help, maybe Sans or Papyrus would be more willing. You got up and shuffled towards the stairs. Slowly you shuffled up and towards Pap’s room, you gave a few half-hearted knocks before the door flew open.

“Sans I said- Oh human its you!” Papyrus stood there, dressed in his ‘cleaning the greatest room in the house’ clothes…you weren’t even phased by his loud entry to be honest.

“Hey Pap…can I ask you a huge favor?” You swayed on your feet.

“Of course human, what favor do you need from the great Papyrus?” He puffed out his chest looking like a gallant superhero…why was he so cute?

“Tomorrow I have a dentist appointment, could drive me to it and back home please?”

“You can count on me human! Though I’ll need to bring someone with me will that be alright.”

“Someone trustworthy….” You whimper, ohh you regretted not bringing the ice pack with you…

“I’m bringing Blue, he’s very trustworthy. Don’t worry human we’ll take care of you!”

You gave a very weak smile before going over the time to bring you to the dentist, he was surprised to hear it would take a few hours but he still agreed to sit and wait for you.

[The next morning….]

Why did you agree to do this…why did your teeth have to hurt…why oh why…

You sat between Papyrus and Blue in the waiting room, you were on time and just waiting to be called back for your appointment. You didn’t get a wink of sleep last night due to both the pain and the anxiety of having two of your teeth pulled out of your head. Worst yet you weren’t gonna be sedated and unconscious for this, you were gonna be wide awake and numbed up.

Your heart leapt into your throat when the assistant called your name…

“Don’t worry human, we’ll be here when your done!” Blue patted your hand.

“Yes! When your done we’ll take you home and treat you to a whole day of recovery! After-all; I ‘the great Papyrus’ and ‘the magnificent Blue’ will be here when your done!”

The two skeletons striking a pose in the lobby, honestly these two were gods gift to all with hearts made of stone…well no sense in delaying the inevitable, you walked down the corridors to the room in question. It didn’t look any different then any other dental room. Your dentist was a kind, older gentlemen of about 60 with years of experience, he was your dentist since you were old enough to see a dentist. He was practically your grandpa by this point, he reassured you that it would all be over in no time. He began setting things up while his assistant prepped you, putting sunglasses on you to shield your eyes, a mouth spreader to keep your mouth open and that greenish bib they put on you.

Then….came the needle…..

[Two hours later]

Your dentist sat by you, waiting to be sure you were alright before sending you back to the waiting room. Your mouth was still numb but you were now dealing with the swelling, you were also dizzy from laying there so long. He handed you a little white plastic bag with a toothbrush, floss, toothpaste…and both of your wisdom teeth. They were intact, boy this was gonna be fun showing the skeletons later.

Slowly you got up, your dentist offering you his shoulder for support as he helps you to the waiting room. Just like they said Papyrus an Blue were waiting for you, swiftly they got you into the car after getting a full rundown from the dentist on what you could and could not eat for a while.

Solid foods were off the menu at least for the next month, you didn’t mind really on that part. It just meant you could have smoothies all you wanted, that and pasta; pasta was ok. With that said you were put in the car and driven back to the skeleton household….

Apparently everyone was told about your surgery and was waiting outside to greet you.

“Welcome back human, good to see your doing alright.” Said Boss with a smile.

“Yes, you seem to have survived your little surgery. Though I doubt anything went awry, after all what could a little root canal do to you?” Said Nox with a wave of his hand.

“It wasn’t a root canal.” You smiled, you reached into the bag an pulled out a smaller one with your two intact wisdom teeth. “I got my wisdom teeth removed, wanna see? It still got blood on them…”

You were still a bit loopy but the expression on everyone’s face was priceless, Nox and Boss almost gagged, Red and Russ were like little kids as they poked at the bag, Poplar and Ash….hiding behind the front door, Sans, Papyrus, Stretch and Blue were all sharing the same look…the ‘what the heck is wrong with you’ look.

After walk/chasing some of the skeletons with your extracted teeth they finally got you to lay down on the couch. You had blood dripping out of your mouth, thankfully no stitches popped; it was just the excitement an all.

You had a nice bottle of Mango Orange smoothie right by you, you were resting your head on Sans lap while watching Red and Blue go at each other in a racing game. Poplar and Ash were in the kitchen making dinner, Boss, Nox and Stretch were in their rooms while Papyrus was tending to Doomfanger and Chicken’s cat tree’s.

If anything you still didn’t like dentists offices or procedures but….when you could come home and recover like this with ten skeletons ready to help you…maybe you could tolerate another one.

End

[Another fanfic for the @bonelyheartsclub I’ve got more stories planned so please hold on]

The Way That Light Attaches To A Girl

Title:  The Way That Light Attaches To A Girl

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: PG (language)

Timeline: Season 1

Summary:  Maybe she’s not so bad, this gingery little doctor.

Author’s Notes:  Mulder reads Cicero and finds the method of loci tool useful in honing an eidetic memory. Also, the timeline of this show is absurd. Per canon, the Pilot is in March of 1992. But here it’s March of 1993 because...I just can’t, honestly. Thank you to @perplexistan for reminding me that I wrote this in 2013, and talking me through the timeline.

*** It's been a long December and there's reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself To hold on to these moments as they pass - Counting Crows *** It’s gritty outside, gritty and gray with a rime of salt on everything. There are pockets of rotten snow for him to kick, slushy and satisfying against his heavy shoes. He pulls his coat tighter, feeling like a hard-boiled detective in a pulp paperback, thinking this would be a good time for a cigarette if he still smoked. His divorce papers were filed this time last year, just like his parents’ had been a couple decades back. The ink had scarcely been dry on the marriage certificate when they realized they didn’t know each other and changed their minds. It was the same time Diana left him and his - their - files for whatever the fuck had summoned her across the sea. Paperwork, as ever in his life, was all that remained of these experiences. If this were really a detective story, he thinks, stepping over a soggy Washington Post, a tall cool blonde would have walked in through the frozen mist and into his arms. Someone lithe, with red lipstick and half-lidded violet eyes. She would look like Veronica Lake and speak in a low, compelling voice, urging him to do brave and outlandish things to thwart the Nazis. He’d wear a fedora, buy a mink stole for the blonde. They’d drink martinis and make love in dark hotels smelling of leather and intrigue. But he’s not living in a dime-store novel, he’s living in Alexandria on Christmas Eve 1993 (“The New Age of Angels,” claimed Time magazine, somewhat cryptically) and is eager to turn the last page in his calendar. Mulder knows it’s symbolic only, that his Eurocentrism is showing, but he still watches the ball drop on TV. Last year he’d kissed a woman in a bar and gone home with her too, but doesn’t think he’d remember her face if he saw it. He hasn’t got the energy to entice a stranger this year, and Scully’s hardly his type. He shouldn’t be sleeping with coworkers anyway, it’s never worth the trouble and the FBI is full of people who are paid to do nothing but sniff out secrets. Besides, he is now 32 years old which is really about time to start getting your shit together even if your baby sister was abducted by aliens at Thanksgiving. Mulder generally holds the holidays in low regard. He pauses to watch a small flock of cats at an upended trash can, feasting upon pungent things like battlefield ravens. One of the cats glances at him sidelong, narrowing round yellow eyes as though Mulder has designs on the gray thing it’s gnawing at. He holds his hands up to show the cats he wishes them no harm, keeps walking. Scully had offered to drive him home but he thanked her and caught the blue line, the clank and rattle of the train making him feel like some variety of normal businessman. Maybe people thought he was a banker or a Congressional staffer, going home to a twinkling Douglas fir and a mantle hung with stockings. Nine months and a broken condom can, in many circumstances, result in a whole new person. But it’s been nine months with Scully and she’s still her own woman, though Christ knows Mulder’s tried to remake her in his own image. She’s trudged alongside him through graveyards, military bases, bad diners, and one memorable night in Pennsylvania where she had captured a frantic bat in the hotel lobby. (“Do you want to wait for it to take human form before I release it?” she’d asked drily.) Through all of it she remained disbelieving and supercilious, leaving him vexed. She’d chirped “Merry Christmas, Mulder” at him, assuming that he celebrated Christmas and was capable of merriment. He was afraid Scully’d bring in a little Charlie Brown tree for the office, ornaments smooth and shining as her earnest face. She is skeptical in all the wrong ways and probably has the Michael Bolton Christmas album on her stereo at this very moment. She probably has eggnog in the fridge and will drink it without rum. She probably likes fruitcake and ham with pineapple rings on it. Mulder, going home to the shadows of his apartment where he might listen to Pink Floyd and nurse his resentment with three fingers of whiskey, feels justified in his scorn. A couple loaded with gifts pushes past him and he nearly loses his balance on a patch of black ice, clutches at a lamp post. He gazes up at the endless sky as snow begins to fall again. (Scully’s probably delighted by the prospect of a white Christmas, probably whistling a few bars of the song as she puts on a green sweater.) But he’s being unfair, isn’t he? For all her tattling back to the higher ups, she’s never tried to present herself as an angel. Her primary fault is in not being Diana, not being a tall dark moon goddess. Being pretty rather than beautiful, being frank rather than alluring. He’s seen her smoking a couple of times, discovered that she says “Jesus!” a lot so that she doesn’t say “fuck” or “shit.” This amuses him; he thought the blasphemy would be worse. He knows Scully watches what she eats but turns to carbohydrates and wine in times of stress. He found out she was sleeping with that asshole Jack Willis, which really threw him for a loop because Scully has a schoolteacherish quality that led him to presume premarital abstinence. He thinks of her in that first motel room, her smooth back beneath his hands, her panic turning on some masculine caveman switch. It’s been a long year, perhaps she could be his type after all despite her sensible underwear. She’s attractive enough if you like that sort of Hibernian look. He can tell she’s a bit awed by him and he could manipulate that to his advantage. Mulder walks the last slushy block thinking impious thoughts about Catholic school uniforms and playing doctor. The honeycomb tile of his building is muddied, layered with fragments of leaves and footprints. A radio blares something about Barbra Streisand doing her first live concert in twenty years. Mulder shakes his head and imagines his mother on the Vineyard, frothing with excitement. “Merry Christmas Agent Mulder,” says Leo, the maintenance guy. Leo’s got some kind of intellectual disability that Mulder hasn’t bothered to diagnose, but he’s always quick to replace a kicked-in lock or a shot-out window, and Mulder therefore regards him as a master craftsman. He gives Leo money every year at Christmas. At present he’s attacking the hallway sludge with an ancient mop. “Merry Christmas, Leo.” He gets his mail, sorting through it as he ambles to the elevator. Bill; bill; Playboy; Christmas cards from his doctor, dentist, and insurance agent; coupons; a thick manila envelope from the divorce attorney. Mulder rolls it all into a bundle and shoves it under his arm. He’s fumbling with his keys when the elevator deposits him on the fourth floor. There are wreaths on most of the doors in his building, a handful of mezuzas. Number 42, as usual, conforms to no given standard. He stops when he sees Scully leaning against his door. “Um,” he says. “Hey.” She waves her fingertips, looking uncomfortable. She’s holding a cardboard FedEx envelope. “I forgot to give you this before you left.” “Okay,” he says, uncertain about the idea of Scully on his turf. “Hang on a sec.” He makes sure the packet from the lawyer is hidden, though she’s probably heard the whole story. He knows what the talk is. They all act like he’s John fucking Douglas, like he can guess what number they’re thinking of based on how they part their hair. He’s a sideshow act, the guy who can think like John Roche and Monty Props. A freak. Scully turns to slouch against the wall while he jiggles the latest lock open, wishing there were a convenient place to stash a can of WD-40. “So, uh, come on in, I guess.” She turns, walks under his arm as he hold the door open, and stands in the entryway. The door clicks shut behind him, a final sound. Mulder puts his mail on the kitchen counter, tossing his coat over it. “You want anything to drink?” he calls to her, unsure if he can make good on the offer. What the hell does Scully drink? Tea? Zima? He’s got a few beers in the fridge, his wife’s wine is long finished. “No, I’m good.” Her coat’s draped over her arm when he comes back out, and he hangs it up for her. He notices that she’s wearing jeans with a navy cable-knit sweater, no tartan in sight. Her boots are dark and practical. Mulder shrugs off his jacket, loosens his tie out of its regulation noose. “Here, sit down. There’s, uh, the couch is right over there.” His couch is the atramentous green of algae, appearing black in the close room. “So what’s up?” She holds out the folder to him. “I realized I had this when I got home and since it’s a three day weekend, I wanted to make sure you had it. I thought it might be important.” Scully sits down close to the edge of the couch, much of her weight on her knees. She presses her hands together between them after Mulder takes the envelope, bouncing a little bit. He looks at the return address and groans. Arlinsky, that idiot from the Smithsonian. Mulder’s got enough credibility issues without this nutcase on his tail. He tosses the envelope on his cluttered desk for later perusal. Scully, as the messenger, looks apologetic. “Bad news?” He sits next to her, why not? “Nah, just…you know. The usual.” “Ah.” He watches her do a quick scan of his apartment. He has nothing to be ashamed of, she can look around. Mulder removes his tie completely now, untucks his shirt and leans into the corner of his couch. “So I’m surprised you’re here, Scully. I got the impression Christmas was a…thing. For your family.” He waves his hand vaguely, as though families are something he read about in a Margaret Mead article but never fully understood. Something closes in Scully’s face, which intrigues him. Discomfort usually comes with a good story, but he’ll tease it out of her later. She scratches her elbow, stalling. “I’m going to go by my parents’ house tomorrow.” “Not tonight? No big Scully celebration with stockings hung by the fire and cookies for Santa?” He has picked these ideas up from Oxford and Christmas music. Santa would probably prefer a cold longneck and some nachos. “My sister’s coming in tomorrow, she’s staying with my parents so they’re getting everything ready tonight. My younger brother and his family too, they’re getting in late.” Scully looks faintly guilty for this wealth of relatives. Which one of them are you avoiding, Dana? “Fun,” he says in a tone that he hopes is not sarcastic. Scully shrugs, picks at the cuff of her sweater. “Yeah, it’ll be good. I’ll get to see my niece and nephew. What about you? What are you doing?” “Oh, just…you know. Laying low.” He’s meeting up with the Gunmen for Chinese food and bootleg video games from some Japanese guy they know, but he’s not ready to tell Scully about them. In part because she might want to meet them and would end up charging Frohike with a sex crime. “Sounds good,” she says in a non-judgmental tone. “I could use some down time myself.” “Job wearing on you?” Going to wimp out and request a transfer? She puffs a breath of air out, pushes the tip of her tongue to her top lip. “No. Well, I mean, it’s hard. We travel so much, I didn’t do that before and it’s taking some adjustment.” Mulder drapes an arm over the back of the couch, wishing he could take his pants off and order a pizza. But he wants to know more about what drives her; Diana left him wary of unknown quantities, and this is his first opportunity to peer into Scully’s head. “Yeah, I guess they mostly shipped the cadavers to you before, huh? When you were doing doctor things?” He sees a slight narrowing of her eyes at this, the implication that she’s not a doctor now. The fact that she took it as an insult means it’s a vulnerability. “Mostly.” He decides to push it, being as he has home field advantage. “How come you decided to stop practicing medicine?” Scully sits up straight, her palms on the tops of her thighs. “I didn’t realize I had.” Prickly. “Oh, sorry, no offense. I just….you left your residency to join the FBI, right?” Faker, he knows her career trajectory down to the day. “My work as a Special Agent has always revolved around my background in forensic pathology. I just felt…called to the FBI as the place to best put those skills to use.” Called, religious imagery. Interesting. Her reply had a rehearsed sound, it’s something she’s repeated numerous times. Who gives her grief about being an FBI agent? A younger brother wouldn’t, would probably look up to that. Mom or Dad, most likely, though it could be one of the older siblings. He’d put his money on Dad or big brother based on the cold formality of her words. Both men are in the military, she’d speak to that. And big brother wasn’t mentioned as being in town, so Dad it is. He throws her a bone for revealing so much. “I’ve heard nothing but commendations.” “Thanks.” The appreciation seems genuine. “So what about you, Mulder? Why….this?” Scully holds her arms out like an orchestra conductor. The gesture encompasses his desk, the groaning bookshelves and fading newspaper clippings. Area 51, Reticulans, ectoplasm, and jackalopes. “Study hard what interests you the most in the most undisciplined, irreverent and original manner possible,” he quotes. “Feynman.” Scully knows her physicists. “It’s the perfect con, really. I figured out a way to get the federal government to pay for my hobbies.” He hopes that will satisfy her, but knows better. “Why is it your hobby?” Ah, Scully. You little investigator, you. “I’m a lousy knitter.” She smiles. “Because of your sister?” He steeples his fingertips, taps them against his chin. It’s tempting to blow her off, but he considers the implications of her presence. There was no reason to bring that letter by; she could have called and he could have told her to round-file it. She’s trying to build something between them, she’s looking past his annoyance with her assignment and he’s not going to slap her hand away on Christmas Eve. “Hold that thought,” he says. Mulder goes to the kitchen for the beers and the churchkey magnet stuck to the freezer. He checks for food, but a cursory examination reveals that Scully is going to have to make do with some brews. She’s peering into the fish tank when he returns, scrutinizing the inhabitants. “I think one of your mollies is pregnant,” she says. “That spotted one.” “Yeah, they’re prolific little cannibals. Here, Scully. Have a drink.” He holds the bottle out to her when she turns, watches her hesitate for an instant before accepting. “Thanks,” she says. “Though I probably shouldn’t.” She pops the lid off when he’s done with the opener. Takes a long drink. “So,” he says, returning to his seat on the couch. “Why do I spend my time looking for ET and yetis, right?” Scully rolls the bottle between her palms. “It’s hard for me to understand why someone with your abilities chooses to use those gifts this way.” Once she rides out this dogleg, Mulder thinks, she’ll go far in the Bureau with her careful diplomacy. “When my sister was…taken, it was the first time that none of the authority figures in my life had an answer. Not my parents, my teachers, the police…no one could tell me what had happened. Years went by and there was still no solution. People stopped thinking about it, you know? They just acted like she was gone and that’s all there was to it.” “But not you.” Her voice is gentle. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this was a question with an answer, even if no one wanted to delve deeper into what that answer was. I became, well, obsessed with the idea that there were all of these mysteries out there with answers that people were uncomfortable finding. So when I found the X-Files…” He glances sidelong at his partner, her nutmeg freckles and her cinnamon hair. “Isn’t that what you were doing already, though? Solving impossible cases?” He shrugs. “They weren’t impossible. They followed a pattern if you knew what to look for. But what I do now, no one wants the answer, Scully. That’s the real challenge.” “You caught Monty Props. Props, Jesus, that case is legendary! I want to understand, I do. I see what you’re saying about the challenge, it does make a kind of sense. But when I think about the people you stopped…” She shakes her head. She doesn’t get it. But she’s trying instead of dismissing him. That’s something. “That’s just it. Your reaction, it’s…look. Serial killers, they’re sexy. The public loves them. Everyone wants to be Bill Patterson or, or… Jack Crawford, right? People still read about Jack the Ripper, they practically turn these psychopaths into folk heroes. There will never be a shortage of people wanting to do what I did.” Half the beer is gone in his next swallow. Scully looks thoughtful, her thumbnail at the damp corner of the label on her bottle. “So this is like, what? Like a martyr thing? If you walk away from the limelight for this then it makes up for never knowing what happened to your sister?” She turns her head to give him a level gaze, her eyes so blue and clear they seem artificial at times. He’s been called worse than a martyr, but somehow it stings. “Martyr? That’s condescending.” “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. I just, I guess it’s hard for me to understand what you hope to gain. What all this means to you in the end.” Mulder’s had enough of her analysis. “I’m not like you, I don’t crave approval.” It’s her turn to look stung. “I didn’t mean to pry.” He sighs. “Your questions aren’t unfair. It’s been a hard year.” “I heard.” There’s sympathy in her tone and he tries not to resent it. “Listen, Scully, I know you didn’t ask for this assignment and you’re doing your best with a bad hand. It’s just hard to share a career I’m passionate about with someone who pretty clearly thinks it’s a waste of time.” Scully sets her beer on the coffee table, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands cupped around her chin. Mulder props his feet up next to her bottle, patient in the silence. There are deep shadows in the room, illuminated by the ambient streetlight through the curtains, the cool blue aquarium lamp. Puddles of light leak from the kitchen, but they barely stain the rug. Scully looks like a Hitchcock girl, white and pure, untouched by the surrounding gloom. She reminds him of Ingrid Bergman or Greta Garbo, her good bones and heavy-lidded eyes. “You know,” Scully says, muffled, “Pathology’s hardly the hottest specialty in med school. It’s not really seen as a place to make a career.” “The malpractice can’t be bad though, right?” She rolls her eyes. “You spend years of your life learning to care for the living and use it to examine the dead. People have…opinions about that.” This had not occurred to him, and he says as much. Scully sits up and settles back into the couch. “And to then take that to the FBI, well…” Full circle to the truth. “Lots of grief for that?” She shrugs. “From some more than others. My dad, he – look, Mulder. I’m not saying we’re in the same place or have the same ideas or that we’re both noble misunderstood renegades. I am not trying to oversimplify anything. I’m just telling you that I know what it’s like to care deeply about something that other people don’t necessarily understand.” She looks defensive after this, takes a fierce swig of her beer. Mulder eyes her up with a new appreciation. “I guess I just figured all doctors sit on pedestals.” “If so, some of the pedestals are much higher than others. I know you don’t like me, Mulder. Or at least you don’t like our partnership. We may never be friends, I realize that. But it’s been three quarters of a year, you have to let your guard down if we’re going to work together. I want what you want, answers to these questions.” He smiles at her. A real smile, and thinks that it’s been a long time since he’s done it. “But you still think I’m spooky.” Scully smiles back. “Absolutely. And I still don’t believe in aliens. Or yetis. Or missing time or vampires or Nessie. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there are answers.” He scratches his chin, five o’clock shadow rough on his fingertips. Maybe she’s not so bad, this gingery little doctor. “I did say I wanted a challenge.” “You did at that.” She returns her bottle to the table, then turns to face him. The aquarium provides a ghostly backlight, her hair gleaming like rubbed copper. He holds this image of Scully in his mind until it is indelible, then tucks it away to remember her by. The Rhetorica ad Herennium advises sensory encoding to aid in recall, and so he places her in the sunlit portrait gallery of his memory palace. Scully stands, crosses the room to take her coat from the rack. “I’m sorry the letter wasn’t good news.” Mulder gets up to join her. “It’s okay.” He squints when she opens the door, the hallway so bright it hurts his eyes. “Thanks for bringing it by.” “Okay, well, I’ll see you on Monday, I guess.” She seems hesitant to go. She probably feels sorry for him. “Thanks for the drink. And the company.” “Go,” he says. “You don’t want coal in your stocking for oversleeping tomorrow.” She laughs a little, then takes his hands in her small white ones. She gives them a squeeze. “This is going to be okay, Mulder.” He thinks she might be right, squeezes back. She lets go of him, walks out and turns right. He locks up behind her, her perfume still lingering on his side of the door. Diana’s not coming home. It’s time that he moved on.

HTaHHQ episode 4: Unarmed part 1

Whoops, sorry, no new Outside chapter this week, or the next. Wanted to get this posted too so I could start getting more episodes written. Don't worry though, it will return next month! :D

"I don't see why we have to come here today. Can't you just do this at home?" Stacy complained as Mary led them into the Studio. It was a dark, stormy Saturday, perfect for staying inside. Instead, her and Danny had to go to "work" with Mary.

"Stacy, honey, I would love to just stay home but Nick's stupid edits to my script mean I have to come in. All of us writers have to." She sighed irritably.

"Yeah, but why can't Danny and I just stay home? I can watch him." She tried desperately.

"Because... it's illegal." Mary swept her unbrushed hair back. "Besides, I thought you liked Scout. You told me you wanted to spend the weekend with her."

"Yeah. At home. Not here." The thirteen year old deadpanned as Mary moved towards the offices. The woman sighed in response, reaching the end of her patience.

"Look, why don't you take your brother and go find her? It'll be a lot more interesting than what I'm doing."

"You mean tearing Nick a new one?" She asked, sounding interested. "Cause I want to watch that."

"You don't get to watch that. Go find Scout." Were the last words Mary said before towards the offices.

"Fine." Stacy groaned as her stepmother went into her office. She grabbed Danny's arm with her left and led him in the direction of the Sound Stage. He followed her eagerly, just excited to be there at a time he normally wasn't.

Her intent was to find Daisy and have her let them into the elevator to go upstairs. If they couldn't find her, she was planning on using the vents to get into the playroom instead. She remembered the way, mostly, and it'd be easier than trying to work up the courage to ask someone else.

Unfortunately, Daisy was nowhere to be found. They looked all over the Sound Stage, checked her House Set, and then looked in the cafeteria. But, sadly, no Daisy. Which meant Stacy had to pick the lock on one of the prop closets to reach the vents.

"Hmm, two children where they're not supposed to be." Stacy froze mid break in as Danny ran over to the Puppet, who sighed and leaned down to ruffle his hair. "Yes yes, it's nice to see you too, Danny."

Stacy struggled to keep her voice even. "Uh, w-where's Daisy?" She stowed the picks back under her glove as she stood up and turned to face the scientist.

She wasn't the scariest looking Puppet(poor Nick held that title, even among the other staff). But, Stacy had always held a fear of doctors, dentists, anyone who wore scrubs and a lab coat basically. Which Riley did, unfortunately, and it made the girl more nervous than the others did.

Well, that, and the forums talking about how she must be doing unethical experiments to get a dog as big as the Rosco puppet. But Stacy was pretty sure that was for in the show, not real life. Probably.

Riley let out a huff of annoyance. "In the writer's room with our annoying brat of a brother. His edits to the script have caused her scenes to be quite a bother." She sighed. "What do you need her for, anyway? And why are you two here on this day?"

"... Mary's the head writer." Stacy told her, clenching her sleeves in her fists. "And it's, like, illegal to leave us home alone or something. I don't know."

"Ah, I see, but you only answered question number two." She pointed out in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "What for you, could Daisy do?"

Stacy thought that rhyme was a little bit of a stretch, with the wording and all. But, before she could respond Danny clapped his hands, and pointed towards the ceiling. "Scout!" He told her excitedly. "We're here to see Scout!"

"Ah, I understand now." She did not look happy about it either. Stacy wondered why. "Fine then, I'll call the elevator down."

She led the two kids to the elevator doors and inserted her own key-card, unlocking them. Stacy waited uncomfortably as it slowly descended, trying to keep between her brother and Riley. It was difficult, as he kept leaning around her to talk at the Puppet, who listened politely.

When the elevator arrived, Stacy pulled Danny into it with a quickly muttered "Thanks". It took everything in her to not button mash the floor number she wanted. She did her best not to stare at the Puppet as the doors closed, but it was difficult when she could feel her weird wooden eyes piercing into her soul.

When they reached the upper floor, Stacy practically dragged her brother out of the elevator. It started to go back down almost immediately, so she hurried to the playroom, rushing through Daisy's sewing room to get to it. She didn't knock, but did ease the door open slowly so as not to startle them. When she got it fully opened, Scout flung herself and landed on her face.

"Stacy!" She screamed, and the girl almost had to peel her off her face. She lifted the small Puppet up to let her rest on top of her head.

"Hi, Scout. Mom's here to deal with some... script issues, I guess, and she brought me and Danny." Danny waved, and Scout waved back. "So I brought some movies for us all to watch."

"Yay, movies!" Bonzai latched onto her backpack, working the zipper open so he could climb inside. Stacy put the bag on the floor and he burst out a second later, with a video in his hands. "Terminatooooor!" He yelled, and Canon facepalmed.

"Yeah, we can watch that one first." Stacy told them and grabbed the tape, going over to put it in the player. She put it in and turned on the TV, hitting play once it had booted up. They sat back to watch, most of the Puppets migrating to sit on the human children.

Surprisingly, they managed to watch in silence, though Stacy and Danny did have their own commentary in sign language. Only Scout really understood it, but she didn't understand much. She had only just started to learn, after all, and was looking at the signs backwards.

The movie ended, and Bonzai immediately dove back into the backpack with Bit. Together they searched for another action movie while Stacy rewound the Terminator.

"Hey, how come there are only baby movies in here?" Bit asked angrily, popping out of the bag with a tape in her arms.

"I'd hardly call Shrek or Spirited Away 'baby' movies." Stacy frowned, picking up the anime movie. "Mom wouldn't even let me watch this one until just last year."

"But they're cartoons, and cartoons are so boring!" Bonzai complained.

"What kind of cartoons are you watching?" She muttered as she took the film out of it's box and crouched by the player. Louder, she said "I promise, Spirited Away isn't boring. Anime is awesome."

"Mom never lets us watch anime. She says it's inappropriate for kids." Canon told her, and Stacy sighed.

"Well, she's wrong. Sailor Moon and Digimon and Pokemon are all for kids." She told the Puppets, with Danny nodding along beside her. "And there's a lot more than just that. I'll record some episodes to bring next time."

"Okay but we can't tell Mom." A pause as Canon raised her voice so her siblings could hear. "Nobody tell Mom Stacy's showing us anime."

"Okay!"

"Sure!"

"Whatever."

Were the three answers she got, which she called good enough for now. At least she knew nobody would tell Mom, if only for the promise of Forbidden Goods.

While they watched the movie, Stacy sat with her arms full of Handpuppets. It was like holding a litter of puppies, as they never stopped moving and sometimes crawled away to do other stuff. At one point, Bonzai pulled out a couple of magnets to play with. As he pulled them apart to let them fly back together, he was startled when they instead attached themselves to Stacy's right arm.

"Stacy's a terminator!" He shrieked, and immediately teleported away.

"What?! No I-!" She jolted when a small, stuffed bear hit her on the head. "Dude!"

"Bonzai, what the heck?!" Canon followed him onto the bookcase he'd hidden on top of.

"She's an evil robot! The magnets are sticking to her arm!" He cried, and when Stacy looked there were two small magnets caught on her. She pulled them off and tossed them aside while Canon tried to calm her brother down.

"Hey! Stacy's not a robot!" Scout angrily shouted up at her siblings.

"Then what is she?" Bit asked, having picked up a small stick. Scout opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

"I... can't tell you that." She finally said. "But I swear she's not a robot."

A long pause of silence, and then Canon figured it out and smacked Bonzai off the bookshelf. "It's a prosthetic, you idiot!"

"Oh." Was all the fallen Puppet said as he laid limply where he'd landed. Canon face-palmed, followed by Bit, while Stitch went to check on their brother.

"Can we see it?" Bit asked excitedly, already trying to pull back her sleeve. Stacy yanked her arm up and away from the Puppet.

"No! You can't see it!" She snapped.

"Yeah, it's not that interesting anyways." Scout tried to help, very unhelpfully.

"You've seen it?! That's not fair!" Bit complained, and Bonzai Jumped over too.

"Yeah! You can't just show Scout! She's lame!" He insisted, to the human teen's unamused look.

"Scout's my favorite." Stacy told them bluntly, to two offended gasps while Scout cheered and then mocked them.

"Yeah, I'm her favorite! Who's lame now? Losers. Ow!" Canon smacked her head, turning on her eye lights.

"Don't be smug about it!" She scolded her younger sister, who grumbled and retreated to the top of Stacy's head.

"Hey, no hitting." Stacy tried to scold, then just gave a tired sigh. "Look. let's just go back to the movie, it's fine."

"No! I wanna see the robot arm!" Bonzai lunged for her, but Stacy yanked her arm away again and he landed on the carpet instead. "Come on! You showed it to Scout!"

"Yeah, and I'm not showing it to anybody else!" She retorted, while Danny picked up Bonzai. The puppet struggled against the five year old's hold, but ultimately failed to escape.

"I'm helping!" Danny pipped up happily as he sat back down to finish the movie.

"Yep. You are." His sister muttered. They managed about five more minutes of movie before Bonzai managed to escape Danny's grasp. He instantly went back over to her, draping himself over her arm.

"I still wanna see the arm." He said, and Stacy groaned as she fell back against the carpet, hands pressed against her face.

"Noooooo." She moaned out. "I. Don't. Wanna. Show you."

"Please! We all wanna see!" Bit piped up. Stacy uncovered her face and looked over at Stitch, who nodded. Her gaze turned to Canon, who looked away sheepishly.

"I mean, it's not like I don't want to see it..." She admitted quietly, and Stacy gave an irritated sigh.

"Fine! Fine. But you only get one look! And none of you get to ask me again!" She waited until they all nodded, before starting to roll up her sleeve, revealing just how long her glove really was. Carefully, she pulled it off, revealing gleaming silver metal that ended just above her elbow. The flesh that met the metal was scarred, rough and pale against the smooth brown that was the rest of her skin.

"Oooooh, so shiny..." Bonzai muttered. The four Puppets that hadn't seen it yet stared, transfixed, at the limb. Scout, who had also reacted that same way, just rolled her eyes.

"Weirdos." She muttered, though she also couldn't help but watch as Stacy flexed her hand and showed off the arm.

"It's really advanced, and really expensive." She told them. "And I'm supposed to go in for upgrades in a few months due to growth spurts."

"Why are you even hiding this? It makes you so much cooler than anyone else." Bit told her, and she shrugged, pulling the glove back on.

"Because I don't want them to know about it." Stacy said bluntly, letting her sleeve drop back down. "Now can we please go back to the movie? It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah, we can do that." Canon said, and then forced her siblings to turn back to the screen, which had been playing the movie the whole time. Giving a relieved sigh, Stacy did the same, settling in as she made sure her glove was on straight.

They watched the movie silently, the small Puppets getting way too into it in Stacy's opinion. But, at least they liked it, and that was all she really cared about. By the end of it, however, most of them were still riled up, including Danny, so Stacy put in Barbie Swan Lake instead.

"But that's a girls movie!" Bonzai complained, to which Stitch shushed him.

"You should give the movie a chance. The story is about a rather interesting dance." She told him, to which he groaned louder.

"Stacy can dance!" Danny piped up, to which Stacy internally sighed.

'Great word association there. Does everything have to come back to me?' She shook her head slightly, trying to keep from sounding resentful.

"You can?!" That was Scout, now staring up at her with wide eyes. "You never told me that!"

"That's because I can't do it anymore. The weight distribution is off with my arm." She told her.

"Can you still show us some moves? Please?" Five Puppets, and one younger brother, stared up at her, begging with surprisingly good puppy-dog-eyes. She could feel her resolve wavering,even as she focused on the TV.

"Ugh..." She hated being the oldest. Why did all the younger kids think she was cool? "Fine. I'll do a dance. But don't ask me for anything else today."

"Yay!" Everyone, including Danny, cheered, as Stacy moved to get ready. Lucky her, they were dancing on the movie, so she could just do what they were doing. It wasn't terribly complicated, as she'd been in a production of Swan Lake before, though not as Odette. The moves that were a little too complex, were easy to fake with a bit of effort.

It was easy to lose herself in it, just like she used to. Easy enough that she stopped looking at the screen, and simply did the dance from memory.

And thus, it was easy enough to misstep and slide on a piece of paper during a spin. A yell, and a loud, sharp thud as she landed, and things went black.

A Perfect Disaster of a Day

Written for @justwannabeafangirl​ as part of the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2020 Fic Exchange.

Prompt: Stuck at work on a beautiful day

Read on AO3 // My Ko-fi

The first day of June was perfect. Amy woke up half an hour before her alarm clock was set to ring to find a bright, crisp morning waiting for her on the balcony, where she liked to start every morning. She pulled herself away from the view and into the kitchen, still drowsy, to make a pot of coffee. Pouring herself a cup, she stepped back outside, relishing the warmth. She wouldn’t need her robe around the house for the next few months - unless, of course, Jake decided to freeze them with the AC. Which, if she was being completely honest, she knew he would do. He would also get her a thousand new sweaters to make up for it. For now, though, she was perfectly content with the temperature. In fact, she took off the robe and folded it over the balcony railing. Leaning forward and sipping her coffee, she admired the view. It was incredible. She still couldn’t believe they had managed to score this amazing balcony in New York. Sun rays illuminated every tree, every street mural, every laughing couple in a window. A few clean-white clouds dotted the light blue sky, casting shadows here and there on the still-quiet street below. It was a beautiful day. It was perfect.

“Hey.” Jake stepped onto the balcony behind her. “Where’d you get that delicious-smelling coffee?”

Amy turned to smile at him. “Good morning.” She stepped forward and pressed a warm kiss to his lips, immediately feigning annoyance as he swiped the coffee cup from her hand. “Hey! Don’t steal mine. There’s a whole pot of fresh coffee inside.”

“No, I think I’ll just drink this instead. It’s right here, after all.”

Amy’s upset facade broke immediately and she laughed. Jake could always make her laugh, no matter what silly thing he had done right before. “We have to get out early today. This is the first day of Mac’s first real summer – last year he was too small to notice anything going on, I think. We have to take him to the park, feed the ducks, do cartwheels in the grass…”

“Neither of us can do a cartwheel, Ames. And I doubt our one-year-old can either.” Jake chuckled and slid his arms around her lower back, staring into her eyes. “But you’re right. You always are. We absolutely have to take advantage of this perfect summer day. We’ll tell the Captain we need to step out early, send the babysitter home early…” Jake rested his cheek on his wife’s head and closed his eyes, swaying them in place. “We’ll get ice cream… Teach Mac how to throw a ball… We’ll...”

After a moment of silence, Amy spoke, her voice muffled slightly by Jake’s chest. “Are you falling back asleep?”

“Absolutely. Wake me up in twenty minutes.”

Amy smiled and pulled back from Jake’s hold, laughing when he muttered something unintelligible and reached his arms out to her, eyes still closed. “We should actually go in early if we’re both awake already. Get a head start on the day.”

Jake opened his eyes and smiled at her sleepily. “You’re so smart. Now, where’s that whole pot of coffee you promised me?”

*

Their day at work also seemed to start off perfectly. The Captain had immediately given them permission to leave early.

“I don’t see why not,” Holt had smiled. “It is a beautiful day, you both have light case loads… Enjoy the afternoon with your son.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jake whispered in a sing-song voice as they were leaving Holt’s office.

Amy, grinning madly, shoved him playfully. “He’ll hear you! Now, listen. No trouble today, Jake. We have to leave early.”

“Oh, but of course, m’lady.” Jake made an exaggerated bow and kissed her hand. “Now go kick ass.”

Amy looked back at him and smiled as she left for her desk. ‘Love you,’ she mouthed.

*

At eleven a.m. it still didn’t look too bad.

Rosa slammed a cup of coffee on Jake’s desk. “Hey. I need a favor.”

Jake looked up at her, worried. “Amy and I are supposed to leave in two hours.”

“Oh, relax.” But her nudging the coffee even closer to Jake had the exact opposite effect. “It won’t take nearly that long.”

“If it’s so short, why are you bribing me?”

Rosa stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away. “I need you to interview someone who came in for one of my cases. It’s unscheduled, or I wouldn’t need you to do this for me, but I have a dentist appointment.”

“Okay, sure. What case is this for again?”

“Jake.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out here, Ro Ro.”

Rosa didn’t even object to the nickname. “Some guy is here to confess to kidnapping his baby niece.”

“Oof, depressing.”

“Yeah. You gonna be okay?”

“Are you kidding? Sounds juicy.”

“Jake.” Rosa stared squarely into his eyes. “Are you going to be okay… hearing about a kidnapped baby?”

Oh, thought Jake, a kidnapped baby. Out loud, he said, “I’m not fragile, just because of some stupid baby currently living in my house and feeding off of my wife’s boobs. And I’m deeply offended that you would think otherwise.”

“Fine.” A grin was on the verge of breaking through Rosa’s face. “Nobody said you were fragile, I just want to know that you can handle this.”

“Always. As long as he can talk fast.”

*

“Sergeant.”

“Hmm?” Amy didn’t look up. She was almost done looking over some paperwork, and the officers often needed her for something technical that required her rank. She was used to helping them while doing her own work.

“Sergeant. I, uh… I think I need your help.”

This made Amy look up. “What is it?”

The officer standing in front of her was relatively new. He had proven to be very competent on his own, so she pretty much left him to his own devices. He hadn’t attracted much negative or positive attention, and she didn’t know him that well. “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but you, uh, you smoke, right?”

“Occasionally.” Amy put down her paperwork and smiled at him. “Calm down, Miller. You can be open with me. What is it?”

“I think I have a problem. I smoke, like, all the time now. It’s pretty much sure to ruin my lungs if I keep going like this for another few years.” The officer chuckled. “I mean, I guess smoking always is. And, uh, most addiction books and— and help groups don’t work for me. I need someone to hold me accountable, someone who knows me personally. And I can’t really ask my family, they live in Pennsylvania, and my roommate has some addictions that are much worse than cigarettes...” He chuckled again and wrung his hands nervously. “I know I’m rambling on and on, but I’ve heard you mention using nicotine stickers, so I know you’ve stopped smoking, and I’d like your help.”

“You want me to help you quit smoking? As in, be your mentor?”

“I’m sorry if it’s inappropriate. This was a stupid idea, I just thought—”

“No!” Amy jumped up. “It’s not inappropriate at all. I’d be honored.”

“Really?” Tim Miller’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Come talk to me tomorrow. I’ll do some research, and we can test out some methods.”

“Thank you, again, so much.”

Amy smiled. Mmm, research… “Of course.”

*

At twelve p.m. it started getting worse.

“Wait, say that again.” Jake could already see their perfect day slipping away. If this case was that serious... It could take forever.

“I’ve decided to come forward because my brother is not a competent parent. That’s why I took my niece to my house. She wasn’t safe there.” They were sitting in an interrogation room. Mr. Thomas had asked to talk privately.

“Sir, can you please elaborate? Why wasn’t she safe?”

“My, uh, my brother drinks, and he forgets to bathe her, sometimes even to feed her. When she cries he either sits her in front of the TV for hours, or he calls me. Her mom’s not in the picture, so it’s just him and the baby, and I’m scared…” The man sighed, put his head in his hands. “My brother isn’t a bad person. He just isn’t a very good parent, and my niece’s safety is more important than anything else.”

Jake leaned forward across the desk. “It’s okay, I understand. You have to do this. And maybe someday your brother will understand too. Right now, though, we need your full cooperation.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have to call social services. Since you came to us and reported this, and because you have experience with the child, I can recommend that you be given custody. Only if you want that, of course.”

“Yes, that— that’d be good, I think.”

Jake reached over and put his hand over Mr. Thomas’s. “Good. But this means that you can’t back out. You need to tell us, and social services, everything you know. You can’t step away because you feel guilty or you start getting worried, because then this won’t work, and your brother could take your niece back and never let you see her again.”

“I know. I know. I’m prepared to do whatever’s necessary.”

“Okay then. Let’s take your statement.”

*

“Santiago, could you send me that report?”

“Sir?”

“I know it wasn’t due until tomorrow, but I’m sure you of all people already finished it.” Holt had called her into his office, and Amy was starting to panic.

“Actually, sir, I’ve been dealing with a personal matter of one of my officers, and I haven’t had time to finish the report. I was going to do it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to finish it today. The system’s going to be down for a week starting tomorrow and we won’t be able to log any new reports. They only just told me.”

“Oh.” Amy’s chest constricted uncomfortably. Their perfect day… “Alright, sir. I’ll get right to it.”

“Again, I apologize. I hope it won’t keep you too long.”

*

At one p.m. Jake was starting to regain hope.

“Rosa!” Jake almost pushed people aside in his hurry to get to her. Rosa was just back from her appointment, and Jake was rushing across the bullpen. He slid to a stop just outside the elevator and started walking back with her to her desk. “Wow, I’m out of shape… Boy, am I glad you’re here.”

Rosa cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You have to take your case back. It turned a bit complicated, he wanted to report his brother, and I promised Amy we would leave now to take Mac to the park.”

“Oh, sure. Just— what did he want to report?”

“He thinks his brother is an incompetent parent. Social services need to be involved. Oh, and I told him we would recommend him to be the guardian, so you have to say that.”

“I can do that.”

“Great. I took his statement. Someone from social services is on their way here to talk to him now, then to see the baby, and then they’ll go see the brother.”

“Wait, Jake, you already called them?”

“Of course. It was urgent. But this case is all yours now.”

“Actually…” Rose dug her nails into her palm, dreading the news she was about to give. “Actually, if you’re the one who called social services, you have to stay here until they arrive and take over.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s protocol. And you know how Holt is about those.”

“But— but, Rosa, they said they’d be here in a couple of hours.”

“I know.”

“I have to leave right now!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

*

Amy tried to concentrate on the work, but she felt too guilty. She had promised Jake that they would leave early, and here she was, stuck writing a report that would take at least a couple more hours. And, oh God, she hadn’t told him yet. She stood up so suddenly that at least three different people turned sharply to look at her. Muttering a general apology to the room, Amy pulled out her phone, sent a quick text, and marched toward Jake’s desk.

“Hey, Ames!” In her state of worry mixed with determination, she had almost walked right past the person she was looking for. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“Actually, me too—” He was interrupted by both their phones chiming. “Why did I just get a text from our babysitter that says, ‘LOL, don’t mind, you guys are the best parents’?”

“Not sure, but so did I. I actually just texted her to say we won’t be early after all, that’s what I came to talk to you about. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Amy, you’re confused. I texted our babysitter to say we won’t be early after all. I’m not allowed to leave yet.”

“Oh.” Some of the worry left Amy’s face and she actually smiled a little.

“Guess that’s what made her laugh.” At her confused look, he added, “You know, why she texted us LOL.”

“Oh, that’s what LOL stands for? I thought it was ‘lots of love’.”

“Amy Santiago!” Jake threw his arms wide open. “How old are you?”

“I’m joking, Jake, relax. So, why can’t you leave yet?”

“Rosa asked me to take someone’s statement because she had to go to the dentist—”

“—there’s no way that’s actually where she was going—”

“—obviously not, and turns out this guy took his baby niece because he thinks her father isn’t fit to be a parent. So I called social services, but apparently I’m not allowed to leave until they get here.”

“Yeah. Holt would make you adhere to the protocol.”

“Unfortunately. So why do you have to stick around?”

“I promised one of my officers I would help him quit smoking.” Amy sighed. “And then I did research for that instead of writing a report that was due tomorrow, but now it turns out we need to log it in today.”

“Oh, I heard, they’re taking down the system tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Another sigh. “Guess we won’t get our perfect day today, then, huh?”

Jake put his arms around her. “Guess not. But there’ll be plenty more sunny days. It’s only the beginning of summer.”

*

The social services representative arrived at two p.m.

Jake rushed up to the man and threw his arms around the stranger. “Finally! What took you so long?”

The representative nudged him off with a questioning look. “We have other work. You said the child wasn’t in any immediate danger.”

“She isn’t. She’s at home with her aunt. Speaking of which, here’s the aunt’s husband — actually, he’s the one who’s biologically related to the baby — and he can explain everything. I’m going to go now, if that’s okay with you.”

“Actually, if you’re Jake Peralta, there’s a few things to go over first.”

Jake groaned and slumped forward. “That was more a figure of speech. I was hoping I wouldn't really need your permission. What do you need me for?”

“I just need to make sure we have all of the details we need, and then I can officially take over the investigation.”

Jake spotted someone coming out of the kitchen. “Actually, she’s the one who called you! That’s Jake Peralta right there.”

“Yep, that’s me, Jake Peralta.” Rosa’s imitation of Jake’s voice was as terrible as can be expected.

The representative, tired and bored, wasn’t buying any of it. “Detective, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me. You too, Mr. Thomas.”

A hopeful Mr. Thomas and a frustrated Detective Peralta followed the social services representative back into the interrogation room.

*

At four p.m. Amy finally finished typing her report. At four-oh-five she knocked on Captain Holt’s door. “Sir, I’m finally finished with that report. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Thank you, Santiago. I’m sorry your day was hijacked, but you can go home now. I heard your husband is done with his work too.”

“Oh, the representative left?”

“On his way to look at the child now.” Holt looked at his watch. “You know, you could still have a little bit of fun. Sunset isn’t until eight twenty-one p.m.”

“I don’t know, sir. I think we’re both exhausted. Maybe we’ll try again next week.”

“I will not have any of that nonsense.”

“Sir?”

Holt slapped both his palms onto his desk and stood up. “Do you know why I was so eager to approve your request to leave early? It was partly because you are both excellent at your jobs and have enough vacation days left. It is also because I recently took a vacation with Kevin and it was the most fun I have had in months. It’s important to spend time with your partner, and certainly with your child. You are both extremely willing to help others—”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wasn’t done, Santiago. You are both extremely willing to help your co-workers and you might get held up at work every other time you try to leave early. Look at what happened today! You were trying to do your job as a sergeant, and Peralta was trying to help Diaz, and you missed out on some of your plans. But there is still time today. Take advantage of the few hours left, because you don’t know when the next perfect day will appear.”

Amy staggered back a few steps, reeling from the Captain’s surprisingly passionate speech. “Thank you very much, sir. That was just the push I needed. You’re right. I’ll go find Jake right away.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here.”

Amy turned and started to leave.

“Oh, and Santiago?” Holt was actually smiling, for the second time that day. “Have a hell of a time, for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

At four-fifteen p.m., Jake was packing his things to leave. As he picked up his jacket and bag and went to find his wife, she rushed up to him. “Come on. Let’s go. Here, give me your jacket.”

“Um, sure. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to have our fun day. If only I hadn’t called social services on my own…”

“This wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t ready to leave at one, either. And your thing was even more important than mine.” Amy pressed the elevator button. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go home, pick Mac up, and ride the subway to Central Park. You know how he loves the subway.”

Jake smiled faintly. “I do. But, Ames, I thought we gave up on our day. It’s too late now, we won’t get anything done. We’ll just have to find another day.” The elevator dinged open and Jake held his arm out in front of the door. “After you.”

“Thank you.” Amy stepped inside and pressed the ground floor button, turning toward Jake. “There are four hours and…” She checked her watch. “Four more minutes until the sun sets. And there’s light even after that. We’re going to eat ice cream, and buy a cheap inflatable ball that’ll lose all of its air tomorrow, and play catch with our son. It may not be half a day, but come on, we only lost a few hours.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Ames, really, but I had kind of a depressing case today, especially since the stupid social services man made me listen to all of the details twice, and I think I just need to go home. We’ll have our fun day soon, I promise.” Jake stepped out of the elevator, but Amy stayed inside.

“Captain’s orders.”

“What?” Jake stepped toward her and held the elevator doors open again.

“Captain’s orders. And I quote, ‘Have a hell of a time for me, Santiago.’”

“He did not say that!”

“He did. And I’m not leaving this elevator until you agree to use whatever time we have left to bond with our son.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean. You know father-son bonding is one of my triggers!” Jake’s mood was starting to lift, though. Amy could see it.

“I do know that, because I know everything about you. Which is why…” Amy walked to Jake, cupping his face gently. “I also know that this will be good for you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting out of the elevator until I agreed to go.” Jake pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You never really had a choice. Also, I’ve made my point and now I’m stepping out of the elevator.”

“You feel guilty about holding it up, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Amy pulled Jake’s arm around her shoulder.”Let’s go.”

*

“Oh, I’m so glad you guys are still going to have a bit of fun today!” Their babysitter gushed when they finally arrived home. “Mac has been missing you guys ever since you went back to work.”

“Aww, come here, buddy!” Jake picked his son up. “You know, you’re going to feed ducks today, and watch your mom fail miserably at doing a cartwheel.”

“Actually, you’re going to watch your dad fail miserably at doing a cartwheel. Thanks, Becca, here’s your money.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s so beautiful out there. It really is the perfect day to go outside.” The babysitter waved at Mac and started to leave.

“Well, it may not have been a perfect day the whole way through, but we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Ames?”

“Absolutely.”

The door shut behind Becca, who couldn’t help but smile at how adorable her employers were, and inside, a small family was about to start a perfect day, outside of work.

Time Heals.....Chapter Fifty-Four Pt. 2

“I knew they’d be excited but I was not expecting that,” Robyn said as she pulled on her underwear. Chris walked out the bathroom while wrapping a towel around his waist, “I wasn’t expecting that either. Has everybody been planning our future and not telling us about it?”

“Apparently so.”

Chris chuckled lowly as he sat on the bed and grabbed his lotion. He frowned at the emptiness of the bottle, “Babe, can I use some of your lotion?”

Robyn chuckled, “I told you that you were out yesterday. You didn’t go to the store?”

“I forgot.”

“I don’t use lotion, it’s shea butter mixed with coconut oil. It goes on like a cream.”

“That’s why you always smell so good.”

Robyn handed him a plastic container and he scooped out a dime size bit to rub in between his hands, “what you think?”

“It feels good. I like that it stays solid at room temperature too.”

“I bought it a natural food market. It’s an African lady that sells it, Ms. Ogri.”

“We’ll have to get some more then. I don’t wanna use up all your stuff.”

“Not worried about it. What’s mine is yours.”

“Thanks Babe.”

“No problem. You finish with your towel?”

“Yup. You can take it.”

Chris slipped on his boxers then handed the towel to Robyn. She dropped it into the clothes hamper by the closet door then turned off the bathroom light, “you need anything while I’m up?”

“No. I’m good. Come lay down.”

Robyn turned off the bedroom light and climbed into the bed. Chris wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she laid her head on his chest, “you ok? I’m still getting a really weird vibe from you.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me for not wanting to have a ceremony?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

Robyn shrugged and Chris pushed up to sit up against their pillows, “Sit up with me.”

Robyn sat up and pressed her head against the headboard.

“Talk to me, Baby. What’s going on?”

“I was telling Mel and Lele about the whole proposal and they just made me feel like I was wrong for not wanting a ceremony. Like it was crazy to skip it.”

“Robyn, you’re the one getting married. Why does it matter what they think?”

“I don’t know but its irritating me.”

“Listen, I do not want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is our wedding and it needs to be for our comfort. And I love our families but fuck them if they have a problem with the way we want to do this. My concern is you. And if worrying about what they want is gonna have you feeling like you are right now, I don’t want you to be worry about it. If it was up to me, I’d marry you tonight, ok. Don’t give nobody that kind of power over you, ok?”

“Ok. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to be bothered by it but it was just-“

“Baby, you care about your family and their opinions, even if you don’t really listen to them. I’m no different in that aspect but what I really care about is how you feel. Your opinion is the only one that holds weight here. You are not crazy or wrong for not wanting to have a ceremony. That’s your right.”

“Do you want one?”

“No. Especially if you don’t want one.”

“Babe, I don’t want to be selfish and take the experience away from you either.”

“You aren’t. What I want to experience is right here with me. What I’m concerned about is that piece of paper declaring us legally connected. Wedding ceremonies are cool, don’t get me wrong but they aren’t the end-all be-all. There’s nothing but death that would keep me from marrying you whether it’s at an altar or standing in front of a  court clerk.”

Robyn smiled and gently palmed the side of his face, “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

“Robyn Baby, don’t let anybody get you down or make you question yourself. You know what you want and I have no problem giving that to you.”

“What if we elope?”

“Really?”

“Yea, just me, you and the girls.”

“We’ll need witnesses.”

“We’ll get two people we trust not to say anything then.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Chris, I need my sanity and trying to plan a wedding is gonna ruin it. I hated it the first time I got married and I really don’t want to go down that road again.”

“Robs, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“You are the only person I owe one to. I really appreciate you being so sweet about this.”

Chris smiled and pecked her lips, “I love you and I want you to be happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, let’s just brainstorm a way to make this work. How about we go to the court house and get married? The girls can still get to carry flowers and stuff but we skip all the other hoopla.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am absolutely sure.”

Robyn smiled as she hugged him tightly, “You’re incredible.”

Chris laughed, “you getting soft on me, Ms. Fenty?”

“I can take it back, Christopher.”

“No, that’s fine. I’ma shut up.”

Robyn laughed as she leaned into his chest, “seriously this means a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

“Wait, we can’t tell the twins what’s going on though because they will snitch.”

“We’ll make it a surprise for them then.”

“Good.”

“Good. Can we sleep now?”

“Did I tire you out in the shower that bad?”

“You gotta stop with those tricks, Woman. It be taking days before I feel like my dick works again.”

Robyn laughed out loud as she wrapped her arms around his waist, “but you’re a quick study. It makes it fun.”

“I bet.”

“Goodnight Christopher.”

“Goodnight Bajan Girl.”

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

“Knock. Knock.”

Robyn looked up from her computer screen and smiled, “Hey you.”

“How’s the love of my life doing?”

“Much better. What you doing here?”

Chris held up a large cardboard box, “lunch.”

“Thanks Babe, I had a taste for some BBQ too.”

“I figured that. Save whatever you doing and come with me.”

“We not eating here?”

“Nah, it’s pretty outside plus I want to run some stuff by you real quick.”

“Oh ok. Let me change my phone to out of office and grab my purse.”

Robyn saved her work, locked her computer and changed her phone setting before grabbing her purse from the locked bottom drawer of her desk. She turned off her lights and met Chris at the door, “there’s a really nice set of tables in the pavilion downstairs.”

“We can eat there the I want to take you somewhere for a bit.”

“After you.”

Robyn locked her office, left a note on her assistant’s desk then followed Chris to the elevators.

“How has work been?”

“Pretty good. We had this long ass virtual conference this morning so my boss let us go early. I figured why not spend the extra time with my favorite girl.”

“I’m already marrying you, you know.”

“I know, doesn’t hurt to work for security.”

Robyn giggled as they got inside the empty elevator car, “talk to Mama lately?”

“Both of them actually. Nothing out of the ordinary. You?”

“Yea. Mama Fenty is already planning for the reunion this year. I guess my father’s side of the family wants to show up this year and my Guyanese folks do too.”

“That should be fun. Have I met them?”

“You met some of them when you came there as a teenager but most of them will be new to you.”

“Cool. You doing ok?”

“I’m good. Had to take the twins to their doctor’s appointment yesterday.”

“They told me they went. I could’ve taken them, you know.”

“It’s not a huge deal besides the office is right down the street from my dentist office so I still made my appointment in time.”

“Oh ok. You know you still should be telling me about some of these appointments. You don’t have to take them by yourself.”

“It honestly slipped my mind.”

“Not a problem. Which way are we going?”

Robyn pointed to sparsely filled area a few yards in front of them, “did you get something to drink? We can stop in the little convenience store on the first floor before we go that way.”

“Drinks and cups already in here.”

“You do plan for everything?”

“Always prepared for you.”

Robyn rolled her eyes and they continued walking until they came to a back picnic table. It was shielded by a set of trees and bushes but there was just enough sunlight peeking through.

“You’ve been out here before.”

“A few times but not often and not in the last two years or so.”

“You like being cooped up in that office?”

“No, I like being alone and being out here during lunchtime when it’s warm, too many people.”

“Ah ok.”

They sat down and Chris doled out the food.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to take you to see about a dress.”

“Oh.”

“I know we haven’t set a date yet for our wedding but if it’s just a court thing, I still want you to have a beautiful dress.”

“You know what I didn’t even think about it.”

“Oh.”

“Not like that. I was so focused on the girls’ dresses and what flowers they could carry, my dress completely slipped my mind. I want it to be nice for them, you know?”

“Yes and I want it to be nice for you.”

“Are we going to a store?”

“Actually I got two dresses sent to a nearby showroom for you.”

“From where?”

“New Orleans.”

“Christopher.”

“Don’t say my name like that. I swear it wasn’t a lot of money and they aren’t super extravagant so you could definitely wear them for a fancy date or something.”

“What dresses did you get sent here?”

“Those two white gowns I saw you sneaking looks at when we went shopping there.”

“What white- you saw that?”

“I absolutely did. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go into the store to try them on but you tried to act like you didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Robyn chuckled as she took a sip of soda, “it wasn’t that deep.”

“No but you clearly really liked them.”

“How did you know they even had my size?”

“I called and asked. I’m always paying attention even when you think I’m not.’

“Wait- so you bought them even though I haven’t tried them on yet.”

“Yea. If you don’t like them for a wedding dress, we’ll just find another one. They can always be used at a later date.”

“Christopher, that’s a lot of-“

“No, it wasn’t. We are not discussing finances. I will give you my accountant to talk to if you think I’m wasting money.”

“That’s not necessary. Dramatic.”

Chris laughed, “you the one always worried about my pockets. I’m good, Babe.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“That ‘for now’ is silent, I guess.”

“Oh shut up.”

They laughed and Chris kissed the back of her hand, “you sure you’re ok?”

“Life’s changing but I can handle it.”

“You’ll let me know if you can’t?”

“I will.”

“Good. What else you got planned for today?”

“Nothing. Come back to the office, finish up a presentation then home since the girls are still at your house.”

“You decide when you wanna move in?”

“Haven’t thought about it. I gotta sort though and see what stuff I’m taking with me, selling or putting into storage.”

“Are you gonna have a hard time with that?”

“What you mean?”

“I know you still have a lot of Michael’s stuff packed away in your garage. I imagine it might be difficult to go through it again.”

“You know, thinking about him doesn’t make me as sad as it used to but I guess I won’t really know until I start.”

“Do you want me to-“

Robyn started shaking her head before Chris even finished his sentence, “I’m an adult, a few tears won’t kill me.”

Chris twisted up his lips in skepticism before taking a sip of his drink, “we’ll see.”

“You don’t think I can do it.”

“I absolutely think you can but I also think it’s gonna be really emotional for you. Robyn, you haven’t dated at all since he passed which means you haven’t given much thought about what it’d be like to fully move on. You literally turned your master bedroom into a storage closet rather than sleep in it again. You’re gonna feel some kind of way.”

“And I will deal with it when it happens.”

“Well, I’m always available for support.”

“I won’t need it but thank you.”

Chris nodded his head as he finished off his macaroni and cheese, “what time do you need to be back?”

“By 3. I have a budget meeting at 3:15.”

“Cool, we have time then.”

  Robyn turned on the lights in her former master bedroom and looked around the untouched space. She hadn’t stepped foot in here since the day before Michael’s funeral. That day she was just in a rush to pack everything away so she wouldn’t have to look at it, she can’t even remember what was actually in here. She sighed as she looked at the stacked boxes, “I guess now’s a good time as any.”

There wasn’t as much stuff as she initially thought as she started removing the tops. Many of the boxes were in fact empty; those she placed inside each other and gathered away in a one corner. She pulled a large plastic bin from against the wall and her breath caught as she looked at the label. It was everything from her wedding day. Opening it, right on top was her wedding dress encased in a plastic garment bag. Holding up the bag, she unzipped it and pulled out the gown. It was still pristine white. She chuckled at the size on the tag. When she was pregnant, she had gained about 60 pounds, so she went from wearing a size 6 to a size 14. Lucky for her it was mostly baby.

She sat down on the floor with the dress in her lap as she started digging through more of the items. Next was the guest signing book and photo album. She flipped the photo album open and the first page was her and Michael posing together and he was cradling her belly. They had decided to do the photo session before the wedding as a precaution. As she started flipping through more photos, she didn’t feel the sadness she was concerned about. It was more of a relief than she anticipated. The sense of finality, that she was finally, officially moving on washed over her as she held her wedding dress in her hands. She didn’t need a ceremony. She didn’t need the extravaganza or anything of the noise. Her journey here had been enough. She just wanted peace for her and Chris and there’s was no better way to ensure that than to do things the way they wanted to.

 Just as she left the room, her phone rang. Robyn slid over the answer key, “Yes Christopher.”

“You ok?”

“I’m fine. You really don’t have to keep checking on me.”

“I know but I’ll do it anyway.”

“Clearly. How’s our babies?”

“They are good. Getting ready for bed. You coming back this way?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Always.”

Robyn giggled, “I have a preposition for you that might make life easier for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Let’s get married this weekend.”

“This weekend?”

“Yup. In New Orleans. They only have a 24 hour waiting period and I don’t see any reason to wait any longer than that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then I’m in.”

“Good. See you in an hour.”

“Ok. Be careful.”

“I will, Baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

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

 Chris handed Robyn a bottle of juice as he sat next to her at the gate, “I was surprised we got the day off on a Thursday.”

“It always help to have a good relationship with your supervisor.”

“That’s true, “ Chris looked over to Erin and Erica who were sitting at a table coloring, “you think they’ve figured anything out yet?”

“Nah, I just told it was a quick vacation. I think we can make a room for some fun over the weekend.”

“You thought about a honeymoon?”

“Not really. You?”

“Not really either.”

Robyn laughed, “I mean we don’t have to take one right after. We can hold off for whenever.”

“Works for me.”

“Nervous?”

“More so anxious. We have a meeting with my realtor next week.”

“You’re ready to sell already?”

“Yea. I don’t see the purpose of waiting.”

“How’d the room cleaning go?”

“It went really well. I got rid of most of the stuff, whatever his mother didn’t want, I either threw away or donated.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Babe.”

Chris pulled her close and kissed her temple, “was it hard?”

“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would’ve been. It was more relief than anything. I think the time was just right, you know? After 9 years, I think it was time to move on”

“Ever wish you would’ve done it sooner?”

“Honestly, no. I didn’t really have a reason to do it sooner. It gave the girls some connection to him and I got to keep my memories.”

“Do you think it removes any of those things?”

“No. His things being there was just my comfort, you know. Kept my life familiar. Now I realize, my memories and the twins memories of him aren’t going anywhere regardless of whether I kept his things or not. I don’t think I would’ve been receptive enough in the past to even consider that. Besides I wasn’t ready to move on.”

“Who are you? What have you done with my Robyn?”

Robyn laughed as she playfully shoved his shoulder, “stop it especially since you the one made me confront all this stuff.”

“I did do that, huh?”

“Would you have made me get rid of his stuff before I moved in?”

“No, I would’ve waited until you were ready. It would’ve had to be in storage, of course but other than, no problem here.”

“You’re sweet. Where’s my Chris?”

“He grew up.”

Robyn smiled and pecked his lips, “you ready for this?”

“I’ve been ready.”

About fifteen minutes later, they were boarding the plane to New Orleans.

  “Mommy, you look so pretty,” Erica said as Robyn walked into the living room of their hotel suite.

“You think so?” Robyn gave a quick turn, “thank you, sweetie. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Daddy said we’re going out to dinner later.”

“We are. We might be going on a haunted house tour this weekend too.”

“Really? That’s so cool.”

“I’m glad you think so. We’re gonna try and find as much fun stuff to do for our little vacation.”

“Yay!

Robyn carefully patted the top of her head to make sure she didn’t flatten her curls before directly Erica to sit down.

“Chris, Babe, are you ready yet?”

“We’re coming,” Chris replied as he and Erin walked into the living room. He stopped short as he looked up at Robyn, “wow.”

Robyn blushed as she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, “don’t look at me like that, you’re making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry. You just look incredible.”

“Thank you.”

“You wanna tell them now or wait until we get to the courthouse?”

“Now if you want.”

“Is something wrong, Mommy? Daddy?” Erin asked.

“How about you sit down next to your sister? Mommy and Daddy have something important we want to tell you, “ Robyn replied.

Erin sat down next to her sister as Robyn and Chris sat across from them on the ottoman, “Mommy is it bad news?”

“No, it’s very good news. Chris, do you want to do the honors?”

“Well me and Mommy didn’t want to wait so we’re getting married today.”

“Yay!!” Erin and Erica exclaimed as they jumped up to hug their parents.

“Do we still get to be flower girls?”

“Absolutely. We have your baskets and bouquets in the car downstairs.”

“Is anyone else coming?”

“No, we just wanted it to be us and our girls. We’ll surprise them later.”

“Oh ok.”

“So you ready for the wedding?”

“Yes, can we go now? I wanna drop some flowers.”

Chris and Robyn chuckled as they stood up, “let’s go get married.”

1019.

Post Office: When’s the last time that you mailed a letter or a package to someone, and who was it to? >> I don’t remember. I know the last thing I put in a mailbox-like receptacle was my election ballot, which went into the dropbox thing downtown.

Library: The last book that you checked out from the library? >> I haven’t checked anything out from the library in a while. I got fed up with KDL’s ebook selection (which is anemic) and got a Scribd subscription instead.

Veterinarian: What was your pet’s last visit concerning? >> ---

Pet Store: Which animals do you tend to go check out first?  >> Most of the pet stores we go to have cat cages near the front windows, so we usually beeline for those first.

Drugstore: Last medication or item that you picked out from here? >> The last time I was in a drugstore was the weekend before last, and we stopped there for soap and one other item that I don’t remember.

Grocery Store: Do you usually have a big list or a small list when you go? >> I keep a short list just of specific things I don’t want to forget, but otherwise we kind of have been grocery shopping together for long enough that we have a general mental knowledge of what we’re going to end up with every week.

Church: Do you attend church every Sunday? Do you believe in God? >> I don’t attend church at all, and I don’t have a relationship with that particular god. I wouldn’t mind meeting him, but that whole one-god-only business is directly contrary to how I’m wired, so... I don’t think we’d have much to get on about.

Bank: How much was the last check you deposited? How about the last amount that you took out? >> ---

Hospital: Have you ever been admitted into the emergency room? For what? >> Yes. Food poisoning, self-injury, etc.

Doctor’s Office: What was the last doctor’s appointment that you had? Which type of a doctor? >> Does a dentist count, because I was just there today.

Police Station: Have you ever been arrested before? Ridden in the back of  a police car? >> I’ve been picked up for an unpaid fine, and I’ve ridden in the back of police cars for other reasons as well.

Fire Station: Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? >> No.

School: When did you graduate high school? >> 2004.

Gas Station: How much gas can fit in your gas tank? >> Sparrow’s car takes about 11 gallons.

Mechanics: Does your vehicle break down a lot? >> ---

Clothing Store: What’s the last clothing item you bought from a store, and which store was it? >> I’m pretty sure the last clothing items I bought were in May and those were all bought off the internet, not in a physical store.

Bookstore: Do you prefer to get your books new or used? >> I usually don’t buy books, but when I do, used is preferred. Of course, if I have a specific book in mind, that’s not always an option.

Coffee Shop/Cafe: What do you typically order when you go here? >> ---

Fast Food Restaurant: What are a few of your favorites? >> ---

Sit-Down Restaurant: What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated? >> About twenty minutes to a half-hour, probably.

Dentist: Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? >> I just got two cavities filled today (for the first time, and it was definitely an experience I wish I’d never had to have). I’ve never had a root canal because I can’t afford it; I had the tooth pulled instead. I’ve never had braces.

Movie Theater: Last movie you saw in theaters before the pandemic hit? >> Birds of Prey.

Art Gallery: Which art forms do you appreciate the most? >> I don’t appreciate any more than the others. They’re all important to me.

Zoo: What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? >> ---

Aquarium: Favorite kind of fish? >> I don’t have one.

Museum: What kinds of artifacts fascinate you? >> I don’t think there’s a specific kind that fascinates me more than others.

Amusement Park: Favorite ride to go on? >> ---

Courthouse: Have you ever gone to court before? >> Yes. Mostly for name changes.

Hotel/Motel: Where were you, the last time you stayed at a hotel? >> Houston, Texas.

Club: What is the last song that you danced to? >> I don’t remember.

Bar: What’s your favorite alcoholic drink? >> Absinthe.

County Jail: Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? >> No.

Airport: Are you more likely to fly in an airplane, or pick people up/drop them off at the airport? >> Since I can’t drive but I’ve been on airplanes, my answer is automatically the former.

Train Station: Have you ever ridden a train before? >> Many times.

Concert Venue: What’s the last concert you saw? >> Hozier, I’m pretty sure.

Sports Arena: Which sporting event would you be most likely to sit through? >> Seeing a figure-skating event live would probably be pretty cool. Since that’s the only sport I actually enjoy, that’s automatically the only sport I would be even remotely interested in going to see.

[bionic-beth]

Brooklyn Nine Nine: The Heist Aftermath (Spoilers)

@ashleybenlove

It was normal for Jake to be late. The 99 knew that. He had gotten better about it, however, after marrying Amy. That was why what she said surprised them.

"Jake's not coming in today," Amy said, using the same voice she did when having to tell Holt that a murder suspect had lawyered up and gotten away without confessing. "He had to go to the hospital."

"What?" Boyle stood up. "Did he get injured? Is he sick? I'll donate my kidneys if he needs them."

"He's sick," Amy said. "But no, he doesn't need a kidney."

"We can donate fingers," Rosa said. "Or any limbs. I know a guy."

"Okay, that's creepy and he doesn't need fingers." Amy walked towards her desk.

"Which hospital is it?" Scully asked. "I can recommend twenty to thirty doctors at the Brooklyn University Center. They love writing papers about me."

"He's at Interfaith Medical." Amy plastered a smile on her face. "He won't be ready for visitors for a while. He's sick but doesn't have a life-threatening injury."

"Jake never ready for visitors?" Holt's office door was open. "Peralta in my experience always craves attention and people."

Amy's lips fluttered; the 99 knew that was a sign for her swallowing a swear word. That and Holt coming out of his office for something this trivial.

"With all due respect, sir, I can't disclose that," she said.

"Oh my God." Holt's voice dropped. "Santiago. In my office."

Amy followed, eyes wide. She walked in, and Holt shut the door behind him. Then, reaching his desk, he pressed a button on his computer. Loud country music played.

"Brad Paisley?" Amy asked.

"He is quite muffling." Holy sat down. "Peralta had a breakdown, didn't he?"

"Dammit!" Amy exclaimed. "Sorry, sir, how did you-?"

"Please sit." The captain gestured. "Word will get around in the office, but I need to know how to cover for him."  

Amy sat.

"Jake never misses work and he would arrive even with a broken bone," Holt said. "He doesn't need surgery because you said his injury wasn't life-threatening but he is sick enough to go to the hospital. If he had an illness like mumps then he would be stir-crazy, and I know that from my experience. So the process of elimination said it was a mental health issue."

She wanted to bury her face in her hands. Holt leaned forward, as if he wanted to comfort her.

"You need to tell me everything."

#

Amy wanted to say it started with little things. Jake started making copies of grocery lists, double-checking them, and insisting on going alone. He said he wanted to ensure they had a well-stocked fridge.

It had all seemed great. Normally Jake considered a box of muffins equivalent to groceries for the week. Amy always made triple-copies of grocery lists and had an app for coupons. Things were getting weird, however, when he started locking up case files and wore the key around his neck. Sometimes Amy caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye, and not with his usual devotion.

Then he stopped talking to her about cases unless they were working on it together. He would ask about how she was feeling with the baby but never disclosing his thoughts on the latest game. Sometimes he'd pick up Sudoku and blackout the answers with a Sharpie. One time Amy even noticed he had bought a temporary burner phone. She was worried he had been asked to go undercover again.

"I can't confirm or deny," he'd say.

"Jake, you're not a lawyer," Amy replied. "This is really freaking me out. You're not this organized. Please tell me you're not being forced back into the mob."

"No, nothing like that. I just don't want to be vulnerable in time for the next heist," he'd say, in a joking tone. "After all, you did hire someone to be my therapist just when I was making progress with my life."

That had ended the conversation for the night. Amy had tried to justify her trick as a means to an end. But she noticed how the circles grew under Jake's eyes, heard him shuffling to the couch rather than sleeping next to her. When they had sex, he was much quieter. No talking about Die Hard or playing ping pong. He would get her pillows and tea to support her morning sickness.

Then one day, Jake took a Saturday off. Normally he went into the 99 looking for a case. Amy knew he wasn't there, though; he left her a note saying he scheduled a doctor's appointment, but writing five different hospitals on various Post-Its. All were covered by their work insurance.  

Jake had actually read their health insurance plan through and through. That's when Amy realized something was wrong. Jake pretended he never got sick or needed to go to the dentist. She did a little detective work, only to find that she couldn't find Jake's phone or computer. Later, she'd find out he put them in a safety deposit box. The key was mailed to Boyle, who guarded it with his life.

By the time she figured out which hospital it was, Jake had committed himself. He said he didn't want to see his wife, the nurses reported to a stricken Amy, and he had gotten the histories of all the psych doctors to ensure none of them were actresses. Amy had to speak with the doctor, who explained Jake had developed a dysfunctional paranoia. It was likely a sign of PTSD. He was also cross-examining the doctors as they prescribed pills and talked to him.

She spent all night in the hospital waiting room, desiring an answer. That was awful. So was having to answer questions about her husband's medical history and any potential allergies. The worst part, however, was remembering how much she had paid that actress. That money could have been spent for a better cause.

#

"I'm taking as many gifts to Jake as possible." Boyle showed off the basket. "Who doesn't love blue cheese and rock crackers?"

"Everyone," Amy said. "You need to check with the doctors to make sure he can receive all of that. Until he's not a danger to himself."

They were in the evidence room. They were working the night shift. Amy didn't want to go to her apartment alone.

"Well, a bit of paranoia never killed anyone." Boyle gave a chuckle. "Eleanor would always threaten that if I got remarried she would stalk me and ensure I would never find happiness. But I'm still here!"

"That's not reassuring." Nevertheless, Amy stroked the bow on the gift basket. "I'll be sure to drop it off for him."

"You know if you drop it off, Jake will give it to the orderlies and members in group."

"I'll tell him it's from you." Amy undid the bow. "Just need to take the chocolate because that I need."

"I don't think Jake trusts you anymore," Boyle said bluntly. "He doesn't trust anyone in the 99 except for me."

He fixed the bow in the gift basket. It crinkled under his fingertips.

"Did you have to say that?" Amy said.

"I'm his friend, Amy. I have to defend him. The therapist prank was not cool."

"Do you think I don't feel guilty about this?" Amy asked. "You think I want to see my brilliant husband locked in a room where they only give him meds that wipe out his brain and one crossword at a time? He's a Sudoku expert!"

"Jake actually is more of a Kwazy Krush guy," Boyle corrected her. "He just can't play it because they don't allow cell phones or laptops in the psych ward."

"That's not the point." Amy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's always been heist stuff. I know I went too far. But how can I get him to trust me again?"

"Show him that you're worth trusting," Boyle said. "And wait for him to recover. Ultimately, I know you're sorry, but does he know? Can he trust his mind when it tells you that you won't betray him again?"

Amy had no answer. Jake had stopped trusting her. He stopped trusting himself. And it was her fault.

#

Life went on at the precinct. The detectives solved cases. Perps tried to break out. Holt interviewed potential assistants and screened them for spies.

It wasn't the same, though. Holt pulled all his strings to make sure no one outside the 99 knew about Jake's breakdown. Everyone tried to visit him, but he was curt with most of them except for Boyle. Jake's tone changed as a cop interrogating a suspect, not a man among his friends. Rosa offered to smuggle him a knife and Jake told her bluntly why that would be a bad idea. Terry brought drawings from the girls. Jake took them and asked casually if Cagney and Lacey knew that Terry had faked an explosion to win the heist. Hitchcock was banned from the hospital after he sneaked into the ladies' bathroom, and Scully got distracted ball the new doctors  he could befriend.

Holt sent Kevin, stuffing him full of Nick Cage quotes. It was a peace offering. Jake talked to Kevin about Greek literature -- he even received some books from the man-- but treated Holt the way he treated tuxedos. There was formality tinged with distrust. Holt was wary as well, perhaps feeling guilt over how off-the-rails things went.

Jake was still not talking to Amy, apart to ask how she was feeling with the baby. Amy wondered if the nausea was from morning sickness or the stress. She started seeing a counselor at the hospital, to try and process her feelings.

He wasn't opening himself up to anyone. Even Boyle mentioned he was out of his depth. Being a best friend and former wedding organizer did not prepare him, but he tried his best. Jake was paranoid that every single action was for the next heist or deception. His doctors weren't allowed to talk therapy sessions or medications with Amy. There was no way she could advocate for him. Jake had given himself to the medical system. And they knew the 99 was partly to blame.

Everyone was waiting. It wasn't like when he was undercover, and they only had to worry about his life. He was a few blocks away, fighting with something they couldn't see.

Finally, their captain called a meeting. They gathered in the conference room.

"The good news is that Jake should be back to work in a week," Holt said.

A cheer went around. Amy already knew, but the precinct had largely not been talking about it. Jake had finally talked to her when as an apology gift she smuggled in John McClane's favorite choice of alcohol. He wasn't allowed to drink with the meds, but it was the first time he had laughed during her visits. He still had to see the therapists at the hospital as a regular patient, however, and they recommended the two see a marriage counselor, whom they could verify was not an actor. Jake was still filling prescriptions for Klonopin so he could sleep. Amy knew they were addictive but she didn't want them to lie awake at night together.

"He's taking desk work, at his request. Boyle and Jeffords will be supervising him to make sure all is well."

"I can't wait for the guy to store food in his desk to rot," Rosa said.

"I'm practicing for when Jake will leap into my arms," Terry said.

"Now for the bad news; we are suspending the Halloween Heist indefinitely," Holt announced.

"WHAT?!" the detectives said.

"You heard me." Holt leaned forward. "Until further notice, we will spend Halloween the way we have before, with no competition and lots of paperwork on the busiest night of the year."

"But it's tradition!" Rosa said.

"You don't even know if the heist caused Jake's illness!" Amy protested.

"Where else will we prove ourselves?" Hitchcock asked.

"Aww, I wanted to show Jake I would always be by his side!" Boyle said.

"I think you're finally showing sense, Sir."

That brought all the protests to a halt. The silence in the room was deafening. Only Terry looked relieved if a little guilty.

"Who said that?" Holt asked.

"I'm Officer Gusman," the woman in the back said. "Been a uniformed police officer for a few years."  

"Who are you?" Rosa asked with disgust.

"I've been working with Detective Lohank," Gusman said. "You normally don't see us because we're on the night shift."

"And you think to stop the heist is finally showing sense?" Rosa said, an edge in her voice. "Are you questioning the Captain's authority?"

The woman went pale. Then Detective Lohank stood up.

"Office Gusman and I completely agree," he said. "You've all gone too far with your plans and need to one-up each other."

"We've been watching this heist go on for years," Gusman said. "The rest of us stay out of it because while you are doing your Halloween shenanigans, we are busy trying to do our jobs and be decent human beings. But you can't even make it harmless. We have to dodge your drones, keep from stepping on broken glass, and witness pickpocketing in real-time. You've stolen dogs, for crying out loud!"

Amy went red. She had stolen Holt's dog, despite being deathly allergic. It hadn't been her proudest moment.

"One thing this precinct has taught me is that you are only as good as the people around you," Lohank added. "I've seen you all work as a team. But every time this happens, you all work to tear each other apart. And for what? To be called a 'detective slash genius'?"

He made air quotations.

"Uh-oh, he never does that," Rosa said. "He's serious."

"Sir, you are a great Captain, and I think you could be the greatest," Gusman said. "But your pettiness is infecting the rest of the group and drove one of our best detectives to a nervous breakdown. Yes, we know; we're not stupid."

"It's actually PTSD manifesting," Amy said in a small voice.

"Whatever it is, why do you feel the need to destroy each other on what's supposed to be a night of fun?" Lohan asked. "Someone's going to die for real during a heist and you'll be too concerned about winning to notice. That's not what a detective represents. We are made to serve and protect."

"Detective-" Holt started.

"You don't check yourself into a hospital because you have a problem. Jake checked himself in because he wanted to get better. But why did he need that in the first place?"

"Okay, that will do, Detective," Terry interjected. "You've made your point. No Halloween Heist this year."

"Dismissed," Holt said.

The 99 stood up. Rosa kept sitting. She had won the heist three times that year, and mocked Jake for his innermost secrets.

"Lohank, you surprised me today," she said. "Well done."

"I may not be the best detective, but I'm still a detective," Lohank said. "Jake's a good guy. Do us all a favor and treat him like that. Enjoy the prize."

He walked off. Rosa didn't move. Amy went over to her. Rather, she waddled because her baby fat was showing.

"Jake and I are setting boundaries," she said. "We've agreed no more pranks, and I am not interfering in his mental health plans or therapists. I am not touching any of his medicines or giving him any gifts with tasers in them. And I've color-coded notes to help with reminders and showing he can trust me. I think we may actually recover."

"Sounds great," Rosa said sarcastically. "But it won't be the same."

"It won't," Amy admitted. "But we have to try and make something out of it."

She pulled out the book of Sudoku. Jake had left it in the apartment, most of his answers blacked out. There were still a few pages he hadn't completed.

Amy would give him the book, and let him do the last pages privately. No sabotages, no need to tell him the answers, just space. And no more pranks related to the stuff inside your head or with Tasers. She could commit to that. If Jake wanted to get better, then she had to make the effort.