I've Got You! - Frank Woods x reader, part two

TW: Blood, strong language, violence, GSW (Gun Shot Wound)

You woke up in a white, bland room. It smelled like sterilized hallways. You knew immediately that it was a hospital because you heard and saw the IVs and bedside full of flowers and stuffed animals with cards.

You don't remember what happened, just a few gunshots and Adler being lifted into the air. You hoped you got Adler out as planned since you didn't remember a single thing from the Operation.

You looked around the room and saw a dark bag sitting in one single chair in a lonely corner, close to your bed. You wondered who's it was, and why. You couldn't place a finger on it......

Your door opened and it caught you off guard. Your head whipped around, and it caused immense pain to shoot through your temples. With a hiss, you opened your eyes and saw two men approach your bed.

"Oh my god, Y/N! You are finally awake!" One said, rushing to you.

It was Adler. And Frank right behind him. Frank called for a nurse and came straight back over to you. You tried sitting up but your heart quite literally skipped a beat. This caused you pain and a large gasp.

You fell straight back down and heaved for air.

"Easy Y/N, just lay back for fucks sake! Where the hell is the nurse??" Frank said with frustration, hitting your call button on the bed.

Adler took his arm and pulled it away.

"Calm down you jackass, one is coming! C'mon, you are freaking Y/N out!" Adler disciplined Frank.

A nurse came in and helped you out before leaving. You finally looked back at the boys with confusion.

"What the hell even happened to me while I was out? Why am I here, and why am I wrapped up like a mummy??" You said in a slight panic.

Frank came to your side, taking your hand. His eyes and look softened. He completely changed around you for some reason. You had this man in a trance.

"Y/N, you got shot, point-blank in the chest by Stitch. It was a mistake, nobody saw how he hid so conveniently up in the ceiling rafters as he waited with a whole team until we were busy. Once you placed Adler onto the board, he jumped down. But you somehow got Doc here to safety." He said, using his other hand to pat Adler.

"That's when he signaled the ambush, and you gave him a run for his money. You both fought hand to hand for at least a couple of minutes until he caught a blind spot for you and took your arm in a painful twist. He ended up breaking it, then he shot you in the chest with 1911.....All of us were being rushed by a whole fuckin' army.....I didn't see everything..." Frank trailed off.

He wiped away a single tear and went on with the shocking story. Did Frank Woods just shed a tear??

"After he shot you, we finally had the enemies thinned out to where we could help. That's when I saw you, face down by his boot, blood pooling quick and your magnum to your right temple. That's when I spear tackled the bastard and beat the living daylights out of him. He is now in lock up at HQ."

Adler smiled down at you and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of red tulips.

"That's right kid, you saved my life. But you put your own on the line, you all did. That's when you should have pulled away. I told all of you not to do dumb shit like that." Adler said.

Suddenly, all the memories came flooding back for you. The gunshot, the fight, the very caring and concerned Frank carrying you...

"So, the mission was a success. Adler, how the hell are you even able to stand right now? You were nearly dead when we found you!" You exclaimed.

He chuckled and ashed his cigarette.

"Don't know kid, I just know I'm here thanks to you. So that's why I'm here, to do this." He said, pulling something from his pocket.

Frank smiled, and lightly squeezed your hand. He looked joyed and excited!

Adler started to read from a white paper, which played in a black frame with gold edging.

"On June 15th, 1985, the brave and diligent Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N set a plan in motion for the recovery of an MIA operative and completed op. After receiving serious injury, Y/L/N will receive the highest-ranking officer and assume leadership position for sacrifice, and hard work." He handed you the frame, and you were completely in shock.

Frank sobbed quietly. He was so proud.

Adler handed you a black box that had a beautiful shiny, gold pendant inside. You gasped upon seeing the description.

"Let it be known from this day forward, you are officially in charge. Welcome to the CIA, officer Y/L/N." He said, pinning the pendant to a beautiful set of dress blues he pulled out.

You cried and tried to give back the award. There was no way this was yours...

"Adler, I can't take this. Please take it." You said, but he refused.

"No way kid, you deserve it. Just keep it safe until you recover and rejoin the Safehouse crew!" He said.

Adler's radio came on, and he stepped out. You turned to look towards Frank, your tears now flowing freely.

"I want everyone to have the credit, all of you not just me Frank! It's not fair. I wasn't the only one there to rescue him fr-" You were going to finish, but you were cut off with a soft pair of lips on yours.

The whole world froze for you at that moment. Frank puller back with a small pant. He smiled and stroked your hair.

"

That was all you Y/N. You have the brains and strength. We just have the strength." He said with a laugh.

You laughed as well and pulled him close.

He took the time to whisper very softly to you, holding you closer than ever.

"I told you I had you. And I do, I always will."

5, 11, 15, 22, 37, 46?

5)A song that reminds you of another period in your life

Anytime I listen to Mirror by Ellie Goulding (which is on the Catching Fire soundtrack and is so good) I’m always transported back to when that movie came out. Because I listened to that song non stop and it played a lot at Icing when I worked there.

11)A song that reminds you of your best friend

Don’t Stop Believing by Journey. We’re obnoxious and belt it anytime it’s on and we’re together. It played at our prom and we were like screaming it. Our poor dates’ ears probably hurt after that hahaha

15)A song that makes you want to fall in love

I have 2 that I’ll name. The first being Still Falling For You by Ellie Goulding. It’s so good and it’s just so sweet. The second being Bright by Echosmith for the same reasons. They’re just like the cutest and upbeat songs and they always put me in a good mood. They don’t depict love as something bad. They’re very loving songs. Because, as you can probably guess, Still Falling For You is about still loving somebody after so long and after going through so much. And Bright is about knowing that the love you have currently is good. “Life is good and that’s the way it should be.”

22)A song that motivates you to work/helps you focus

I don’t think I really have a specific song for this; it tends to be whatever I’m listening nonstop at the moment is what I listen to to help me focus. But the most recent song has been Younger Now by Miley Cyrus. It’s a really good song. It’s chilled and easy to sing along to. I still haven’t gotten sick of it and I’ve bee listening to it nonstop for quite awhile. 

37)A song that helped you through a difficult time in your life

I’m gonna answer this two ways. One being the song that helped me during a specific part in my life and then the next being what has continually helped me.

The first being Clean by Taylor Swift. I was in kind of a shitty place when I first heard this one and it not only helped me feel better, I got out of the shitty place. I was dealing with people who made my life difficult that I didn’t want to deal with, I didn’t feel happy about anything in my life and it really helped listening to this.

The second being music that helps me whenever I’m having a panic attack or just not feeling great and that’s the music from Mermaid Melody. Literally any song can calm me. One in particular though which is Legend of Mermaid. Singing it to myself when I can’t listen to it helps me a lot and listening to the orgel version helps calm me down A LOT. I’ll link the orgel one because it’s beautiful Taiyou no Rakuen, helps too.

46)A song that you wish more people knew about

Inner Demons by Julia Brennan!!! I heard it on the radio a while back and I instantly fell in love with it. And I think I might’ve heard it on the radio once or twice since then. But I had it on repeat for a long time and it’s just SUCH A GOOD SONG.

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 3

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 4,010

WARNINGS: Cursing, Attempted R*pe scene, Deliberate Intoxication of a Character 

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for 6 months now. She has proper pay and she thinks she regained some normalcy in another world. However, trouble has struck the Shelby’s and Thomas has plans for her. Will she remain safe as he’s promised her?

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER TWO  CHAPTER 3.2

A/N: So, I forgot to add something very important. I am not from Liverpool. I do not know the proper way scousers talk. I’ve done some research and watched movies, but I will not advocate that it’s perfect. If y’all want it gone, it will be gone. PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS!!

It's been six months. I'm kind of an official part of the Shelby family. People part the streets for me and greet me. I'm paid two pounds, but John gives me a couple shillings whenever I go home for the day. I have no clue how much I make. I don’t exactly have enough time in me day to count up all me savings right now. I’m being led by the reins like a horse. 

I have a little routine now and what can I say? It gives me peace! Sometimes- I have to admit, there'll be nights where I had cried about not being with me own family. However, it's not like I have the mental capacity to try and change my current situation, so I'm rolling with the punches. 

I was folding clothes in the living room when Thomas bursted through the doors. 

"I'm calling a family meeting for tonight, 8." Thomas said and then pointed at me. "Aliena, be there. Okay? Okay." Then, he walked right back out. From the distant slam of a door, I knew he had gone into his office. 

I looked to Polly who was already staring at me. 

"That fucking boy! Do you know what's goin' on, Ali?"

I shook me head, furiously. 

She just sighed and said. "I guess we're finding out tonight. Finish folding, love, then come help me with dinner."

"Okay, Pol."

As I was folding, all I could focus on was me anticipation. I wanted time to move faster.

I knew the information wasn't about me lies. If he had wanted to confront me about that he would have done it privately or only in the audience of Polly. It wasn't 1919 meaning that season one hasn't begun yet. So, maybe it has something to do about Thomas fixing races? No, that's right! He didn't tell anyone about it! Wonder what it's gonna be then?

Eight rolled around and the family was waiting for Thomas to start. I was over by the doors blocking Finn from geggin' in. 

"Right, I called this family meeting because we got a problem. This problem's name is Harry Chadwick. He's been seen following us and our men around. It would seem that he's a new small time copper looking to make a promotion. Now, some of you are wondering why I invited Aliena to this meeting and I'll get to that in a second. I am going to meet with Chadwick in 3 days time." 

Roars of outrage poured from the family. 

"I am going to meet with him! I told him that I got information on Billy Kimber, and that I'm willing to do a stitch on him in exchange to keep quiet about our doings. I've discovered that Mr. Chadwick frequents Mr. Zhang's brothel whenever he gets tired of spying on the lot of us. Mr. Zhang told me that he preferred his… women on the younger side." Thomas looked at me and I instantly knew his plan. 

I swallowed harshly before looking back down at me feet. A million thoughts went into me head. 

‘Was this a test? Is this me proving me loyalty? What if I go through with it, and he doesn't stop him in time? Why would he do this to me?’

"Like hell, Thomas! She's just a girl!" Polly yelled while gesturing toward me. 

Thomas nodded in response. "Yes, Polly. She's a girl, who'll catch that bastard's attention! Now, if you'd let me finish! I was gonna tell you that I plan on killing 'em. She'll just be a distraction, and I'll let no harm come to her." The look in his eyes was intense. It was almost like he was trying to telepathically reassure me. 

‘This is a test. This is a test about loyalty, I just know it is.’

Polly and Thomas started arguing while I debated over it. 

I sighed. "I'll do it."

They stopped fighting. 

"What?" Polly asked, looking at me with disbelief written in her face. 

"I'll do it." I repeated with a clearer voice and me head held high. Thomas and I stared at each other until he gave me a nod. 

"There you have it, Pol. She made her choice. She's a big girl." 

Polly scoffed and began fighting with him again. I listen to John bud in and then Arthur shortly. I heard them, but it was like white noise. I was breathing quicker. But just as soon as I was consciously aware of the fact, I held me breath for a while and relaxed meself. The way me brain worked would never let meself freak out in me entirety. I've never experienced a complete panic attack. I always had the strength to snap meself out of it. That didn't mean that the effects went away any quicker. In fact, I knew this feeling of dread would follow me until we were actually enacting his plan.  

I let meself out without, being like, allowed to. That night I didn't sleep. I just pondered over the grim possibilities that could occur three nights from now. 

It was finally the day, and I am terrified. I was allowed to sleep in. I woke up around 10 in the morning. I ate breakfast and lunch that wasn't made by me, and then Polly told me that she had prepared a bath. I was to scrub meself spotless and shave. 

As if I was really a prostitute. 

On the flip side, this body of mine didn't have your common body hair. I had no hair on me body except for me private part, me eyebrows, and well- me hair. See I hated having body hair with a passion, so it was nice having smooth legs with no stubble. 

Polly kept talking to me as if I were a child. She kept reassuring me that Thomas would never let anything happen to me. It was nice to see her worrying about me as if I were her daughter. Some days it really felt like that. After the bath, I was dressed in garments that were really rather in its best condition. It seemed like silk. I put it on with no protest. Polly even tried helping me with that. Then she went on to do me hair. It was beautiful, really. She put me hair in a bun with a single braid. Me hair framed me face just how I liked it.

She did me makeup next. I wanted to stop her, but I didn't have the heart to. I looked in the mirror and admired her work. The foundation didn't match me skin tone. It made me appear whiter than I was. But this was how women did it in this era, and I thought I still looked pretty. I smiled at meself even though I wished we were doing this under better circumstances. 

Finally, the dress. It was a dark, maybe, navy blue. It's sleeves reached to me elbows, and it was a rather loose dress. I'm so used to wearing tighter one's than this one, feels like a sleeping gown.

"You look absolutely beautiful. Oh, look at you! Just like a dream." Polly said with her hands together in a prayer against her lips.

She rushed to me and rubbed me arms up and down. "Tommy won't let anything happen to you, Aliena. After this, I'll make sure you'll never be in this side of the business again. You'll just be taking care of the kids and doing the chores again, I promise! No more Peaky Blinder business." 

I nodded. "Okay, Polly." I put on a grin while smoothing out the dress. 

I was only allowed a few moments to meself before Thomas shouted for me. 

"We better get down there then. Quicker we get it down, the sooner you both come home." She said as she pulled the door open and led me down.

As we were doing down the stairs, the three Shelby brothers were talking at the bottom of it. Upon hearing our heels, their gazes snapped on me. I noticed Thomas was wearing his usual suits, nothing out of the ordinary. 

"Ain't she a sight!" Arthur yelled. 

"Ali, you look absolutely beautiful. I think I'm fallin' in love!" John yelled. 

I scoffed and shook me head. "Thank you, Arthur. And John, shut your trap." I was able to slap him across the chest. 

He flinched, quite dramatically, while snickering. But then this hush of silence washed over us, and it was like we were all waiting for what Thomas had to say. 

Thomas cleared his throat and muttered. "Come on, then." He extended his elbow for me and I took it. 

We said our goodbyes then left. It was weird being in the passenger side of a car in the UK. American cars were different. I'm so used to being on the opposite side. As he drove, I took in the views. I loved car rides so much! God, I missed this. 

"I'm sure you already know this, but I know you're lying to us." Thomas said while taking a drag. "You don't have a birth certificate, no record of any sort. I couldn't even find your father's war record. So, even though you are a hard worker, you've lied to us. After this… If you do it well and complete what needs to be done, I'll let your lies slip and accept you into this family."

Me heart was beating in my ears. Me face was hot. "Okay, Thomas." I whispered. After that, it was quiet for a while. 

Then, Thomas broke it. "So, do you, maybe, want to tell me the truth?"

I scoffed, looking out the window. Even though there really wasn’t one. "You wouldn't even believe me." 

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t fully anticipate him investigating me. I just thought it would be normal for a girl to show up with no papers. I was caught in a blag and like a brat, I wanted this conversation to be done with.

"Try me."

I don't know if I could contain my annoyance. 

How the fuck could I explain it to him when I didn't understand this situation much meself! If I did tell him the truth, I figure he'll get me thrown in an asylum. 

I went to massage me eyes, but then remembered that they had makeup on ‘em, so I slapped me hands on me thighs. 

"Well, I'm not from here. At all! I'm from another universe or Earth. To me, you and your family are characters on a TV show called Peaky Blinders. Do you believe me?" I revealed to him while staring out the window. I couldn’t bear to face him.

He didn't answer for a good solid 5 minutes. "Well, it has to be that. Or, you lied about your dad being in the war and your family avoided records with home births. That you're Gypsy kin ‘cause there have been too many times that you have looked like you know something I don't, and being a Gypsy would explain that. So, yeah, I believe you." 

I pursed me lips while leaning my head on me fist as I leaned my arm on the window. 

'He doesn't believe me. A blessing in disguise.'

"Yep, you got me. So why don't you tell me what we're really going to this bloke's house for? I know it's not for the bullshit you spat at the meeting." 

Thomas squinted his eyes at me. "How did you know I lied?"

I rolled me eyes. "Since Billy Kimber came out your mouth. What does Mr. Chadwick have to do with you planning to fix races?"

I turned me head to him and stared. His head was down, eyes on the floor of the car. His eyes darting back and forth rapidly. His Adam's apple bobbed and he said, "He's got something I need to actually fix those races. He's not a cop. But he does want information on Kimber and I'm going to feed him false information. Not like he'll be able to check, though."

While gazing at me fingernails, I hummed. "Thank you for your candor, Thomas."

After that, we didn't talk. When we pulled up to the house, he got out and then walked over to my side. I took his arm like before and we walked to the door. It wasn't a mansion, but it was a nice house. A maid opened the door and told us that we had been expected. We were led to a room that must have been the lounge area. There was a bar at the far right side and a pool table in the middle, but the room was still small. 

"Ah, Mr. Shelby! So, good to see you!" Mr. Chadwick had to be the most stereotypical pedophile I've ever seen. 

Mentally, I was giving meself a prayer and hoping that my discomfort was not showing on me face.  

Thomas greeted him back. They shook hands and that's when creepy decided to lock eyes on me. 

"Why, Mr. Shelby! Who is this enchanting young lady?" I watched as his hand slipped from Thomas' hand and reached for mine. 

I reluctantly gave him me hand to shake when he clasped both of his hands over mine and started to stroke it. I could feel the muscles in me face ache, so I knew I was still smiling. 

"This is Ali. She works for me Aunt." Thomas replied. 

Mr. Chadwick greeted me, but it's like I knew that he was trying to make it sound sensual. I wanted to die! I just gave him one back and he finally dropped me hand. 

"Well, enough with the pleasantries! Let's negotiate." Mr. Chadwick said as he walked over to his desk. 

We all gathered around the desk when Mr. Chadwick offered drinks. Thomas and I both declined and sat down. After that, they dove straight into business talk. As much as it hurts me pride, I couldn't follow what they were saying. So all I did was pretend to be engaged. I smiled whenever his eyes lined up to mine. I tilted me head to the side to, I guess, show off me neck. Other times, I raised me chest and used other cues to get his attention towards my tits. 

"You know what, Mr. Shelby, the agreement was set upon me getting rid of the information I have on your family. But not on yourself. How about you let me have her and we call it a deal?" Mr. Chadwick said while looking me up and down like I was fucking scran!

Thomas cleared his throat saying, "You're goin' to have to be more specific. I can't let you have her forever. She's my Aunt's employee. So, the most I could offer is an hour."

Mr. Chadwick scoffed. "The rest of the night."

"45 minutes." 

"3 hours."

"1 hour."

"Hour and a half." 

"Deal." 

They rose and shook hands. I wanted to show me disgust. I felt absolutely nauseated. I just felt this pit in me stomach grow more and more. 

Thomas placed his hand on me shoulder and I looked up at him. He nodded and said. "I'll be out in the hall."

"You can have my maid entertain you, Mr. Shelby!" 

Thomas had already walked out of the room. I huffed. Me gaze went to the bar. 

"Do you fancy a drink, Ali?" He asked me. 

I got up from me chair. I was shaking. I just knew I had to look like Bambi when he was learning how to walk. "I could go for something. A glass of water would be fine." I said while tucking a strand of me hair behind me ear. 

Mr. Chadwick laughed as he walked over to his bar. "I think you're gonna want something stronger than water, dear. Ever try gin?"

I shook me head. "No. No, I haven't. Water's just fine." I slowly walked closer to him. He was behind the bar as he poured the drinks. But he managed to quickly stride toward me. He handed me me drink and I took a gulp of it. The cold water was refreshing, but I couldn't help but notice he was staring at me while I drank the water. 

I wanted to furrow me eyebrows at him, but instead I gave him a smile. 

"So, how old are you, Ali?"

"16."

"Your accent, you're a scouser, aren’t cha?"

"Yes, sir, born and raised."

He hummed after that. I just awkwardly held the glass in me hand while shifting from one foot to the other. 

"How did you meet, Mr. Shelby?"

"Uh, I was looking for a job and one of his brother's kids were out playing on the street. I managed to keep… him calm enough to get him… home. Apparently…, that was like… a miracle and… I was offered… a job. " I was feeling dizzy and it was getting harder to breathe. 

I held me hand up while I pressed the hand holding de’ water against me chest. The glass was colder than I thought. " 'm… sorry. I… really need… to get some… air!" I went to turn away from ‘em when he grabbed me and pulled me to him. 

I gasped for breath. I whimpered as he placed his forehead on mine. 

He whispered. "God, you're so cute. Look how short you are and those tits. You've been wanting me all night. Don't try to deny it, you little minx. I bet you're all wet and ready for me." He started to nip and kiss me neck which made me flinch. 

'I can't breathe. I can't breathe!' 

Me legs soon gave out and he rushed us to the pool table. The pain the shot through me back as the table dug into me hips made me wince. He lifted me up ‘n sat me down on it, and me body fell limply on the table. The glass of water slipped out of me hand, but it didn’t fall since it didn’t make a sound. 

I limply attempted hitting him, kicking him! They were weak hits. They barely did anything to him. I knew they were annoying him, though. 

I kept trying to scream at the top of me lungs, but all that came out were hoarse whispers. I knew this feeling, familiar with it and I still hated it. 

He stopped fiddling with his belt, grabbed me arms, pinned them down. "Stay fucking still!" 

He kept me hands pinned and me head lopped to the side. Me gaze was on the doors from where Thomas and I entered. Me vision was getting blurrier with me tears. I took a deep loud breath and choked on a sob. I heard his belt fall to the ground. 

"Tommy." I chanted. I kept saying his name. I felt him start to shimmy up me dress 'til I felt all of me legs exposed. Me heart was beating faster than ever. Something just clicked as I screamed, "Tommy!" 

And like a fucking hero, he bursted through the doors and shot the bastard. The guy groaned as he fell to the ground, and a second shot rang throughout the room. 

I stopped crying, but realized I really was paralyzed since I couldn’t pick meself back up. Me adrenaline was going down, and I just wanted to go to sleep. I heard Tommy’s thundering footsteps as he ran to me. I felt as he tugged down me dress, and then picked up me torso by me armpits. He stroked me face. I thought it was a caring touch, but realized he was probably wiping the tears. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was late, Aliena." Thomas whispered. His face was red and his jaw clenched.

I tried to tell him, "Nothing happened yet. So you weren't late." It fell on deaf ears.

He shook his head. "I was late…" He tugged me a little forward and then carried me bridal-style. 

I heard a faint crunch that was familiar to glass. 

'Huh! Maybe it was the glass falling that actually alerteded him and not my supposed shout.'

As we walked out, I saw the maid dead on the floor as well as a butler that was near the front door. He carried me to the passenger seat and laid me down then left. I was really fucking uncomfortable, but I still wanted to go to sleep. I let me eyelids flutter shut. 

"Oi, Aliena! Aliena, wake up! Wake up." Thomas shouted at me while tapping my face. 

I whimpered loudly but opened me eyes nonetheless. 

"Attagirl! Good girl, Aliena. Now, we're going home. Okay?" Tommy wrapped his free arm around me shoulder and me face was tucked into his side. His touch was comforting. His slow strokes on me back reminded me of me ma’. This made me start crying again to the point where I was sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Almost there, Ali. You're alright now. Fuck!" Our bodies jolted as Tommy struck the steering wheel. 

The cold night wind was refreshing. I tried focusing on that. I wanted to just curl up, sleep, and be able to get over it tomorrow. I'll get over it tomorrow. 

I wanted to enjoy this moment as I snuggled up to Thomas Shelby, but I couldn't! 

I always wanted to know what his cologne smells like and now I still wouldn’t know since my nose is stuffy ‘n runny.

Me sobs turned into sniffles and it took sometime before we actually made it back to the house. It was a series of Tommy keeping me awake and me crying about it. 

Tommy carried me out of the car and ran up to the door. He started pounding on it 'til Pol opened the door. 

She gasped and shouted. "What-!"

Tommy didn't let her finish. He rushed past her and sat me down on the couch. Me body was still limp, so me head fell back and me arms slumped to me sides. 

"What the hell, Thomas! You said nothing would happen!"

"There were more people in his house than I thought and got held up. He didn't manage to do anything to her yet, but he drugged her." 

"Fucking christ! Make sure she doesn't fuckin’ fall asleep! She needs to drink water."

Polly's last comment got to me. It reminded me of me ma’ getting me milk when I was too high. I started to chuckle and tried asking them for milk. Tommy leaned his ear close to me mouth and then shouted for milk instead. I was still laughing, but it came out breathily. 

I could hear Polly yell for Arthur and I tried following her voice but that meant turning my head. Which made me close me eyes. Tommy tugged me face where it originally was and ordered me to stay awake. I attempted to stick me tongue out at him. 

Aunt Polly came back. She put a wet cold towel on me head and put the straw in me mouth. I instantly started drinking it. 

"Slowly, love." Polly whispered as she started to wipe me face and neck with the towel. "Slowly, love."

When I was done having a drink, I tried lifting up me arms and it happened very slowly. I slowly pushed the cup away from me. I didn't really realize that it was Tommy holding it. 

"I don't blame you." I tried saying. 

Polly sucked on her teeth. "Her fucking speech is slurred." By the end of her sentence, her voice was shaking. They fretted over me for a while until Polly said that she was going to have me be in warm water. 

Thomas and Arthur helped me up the stairs. In the end, Polly was the only one in my room. She undressed me and helped me into the water. I could honestly say the water woke me up!

When I got most of me motor functions back, Polly got me out, helped me get dressed, tucked me into bed, and I fell asleep.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston​ @nemesis729​

‘Cold’ Chapter Sixteen Pt.1

Rating: 18+? This rating thing is harder than I thought it would be lmao

Word count: 2,271

The Deputy woke up in a familiar bed. Her head was pounding, causing her to keep her eyes shut. Then she heard it.

Beep, beep, beep.

     The gentle beeping of the heart rate monitor in the clinic. Instantly her eyes shot open. The Deputy looked around at the room she was in, it was the clinic room she fought to get out of so desperately. She tried to rub her face but something blocked her hand from lifting. She looked down and saw that her hands were hand cuffed to the edge of the clinic bed.

     She tried to remember what happened and how she got to the clinic. She remembered shooting with Grace and the walk back to the church but after that it got dark. Panic suddenly grabbed hold as she went down the list of what could have happened. What if she heard 'Only You' and hurt Grace? What if she hurt Nick or Kim or even worse, Carmina? The Deputy struggled against the handcuffs, desperately trying to find someone to tell her what happened.

     Hearing the Deputy struggle, the doctor walked in to check on her.

     "Good, you're awake." She greeted in a kind voice and pulled out a clipboard.

     "What happened? Did I hurt anybody? Why am I handcuffed?" The words stumbled out of the Deputy's mouth quicker than she could sit up.

     "Everything is fine, you just gave your friends a good scare. You were shot with a Bliss Bullet but thankfully Grace was able to get you out of harms way before any Peggies got their hands on you. As for your handcuffs those are just precautionary to make sure you don't hurt yourself or yank out an IV." Relief from the doctor's words instantly made the Deputy relax. She leaned back into the bed, not straining against her holds. "All of the Bliss should be out of your system by now." The Doctor said and checked an IV she had hooked up to the Deputy.

     "How long do I have to stay here?" The Deputy asked as the doctor unlocked her handcuffs.

     "I can discharge you now, but you have to use your crutch. And have you been taking your pills?" The doctor asked and the Deputy nodded while rubbing her wrists.

     "Everyday at the 8 am and again at 8pm." The Deputy informed her and the doctor nodded.

     She scribbled a note on her clipboard before she looked down at the Deputy. Her face told the Deputy exactly what she was going to say before she even said it. "What did I say about gunfights?" She asked.

     "I didn't even do anything this time! I was just walking with Grace and I got shot." The Deputy defended herself and the doctor nodded.

     "Look, I get it. You don't like taking a break, you want to get back out there and protect people but your health has to come first." The doctor lectured her and the Deputy pushed her hair out of her face.

     "I understand but I can't just take a break. People die if I take a break, my friends die if I take a break." The Deputy argued and the doctor held up her hands defensively, she didn't want to get the Deputy too upset.

     "While you heal a little more just help people in a different way, maybe you can deliver food to people or help plant a garden? Just something that doesn't get you put in harms way. You got lucky this time, Deputy. Your reaction to the Bliss didn't cause you to re-injure  yourself, but I don't know if that kind of luck will last. I'm discharging you but you still need to be back for that two week check up." The doctor's words were firm and the Deputy knew there would be no swaying her mind.

     But the Deputy was an adult and she could make her own decisions, even if they were the wrong ones so the Deputy just agreed to whatever the doctor told her to do so that she could stop fussing even if she knew she would ignore the doctor. The Deputy got discharged and left the clinic, happy to be out of that place.

     She found her truck sitting in the driveway, that must have been what Grace drove her to the clinic in. The Deputy got in and drove back to Nick and Kim's house to apologize for scaring them.

     When she pulled up to the house Nick was working on his truck in the front driveway. "Hey Nick." The Deputy greeted and got out of her truck.

     Nick was bent over the hood, fiddling with something in engine. When he heard the truck pull up he glanced back to see who it was. When he saw the Deputy get out of the truck he backed out of the hood and turned to face her.

     "Hey Dep, how are ya feeling?" He asked and immediately the Deputy noticed he had a black eye.

     "What happened to your eye?" The Deputy ignored his question.

      "It's nothing." Nick turned back to look at the truck, he always did that when he was deflecting.

      "Did I do that to you?" The Deputy asked, her tone softened with concern.

     Nick turned back around to face the Deputy, his head angled toward the dirt. "Kinda, well not really, but yeah..."

     The Deputy rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "Did I hurt anyone else?"

     "No, me and Grace held you down before you could hurt anybody." He admitted and the Deputy let out a deep sigh.

     "I'm really sorry, Nick. It won't ever happen again." The Deputy kept apologizing, shame and fear evident in her voice.

      "Hey Dep it's ok, I know it wasn't directed towards me. It's fine now anyway right?" Nick asked and the Deputy shook her head.

     "I shouldn't be here, I'm putting you and Kim and Carmina at risk especially with John looking for me." The Deputy told Nick and he looked to the ground.

      "As much as I hate it, I think that's true. I'm sorry Dep, you know you're welcome anytime but maybe you should stay somewhere safer, just till things die down a little bit." He suggested and the Deputy nodded.

     "I'm gonna go stay with Sharky for a while ok? Just until things blow over some. I have to go grab my crutch and my jacket." The Deputy wasn't angry with Nick's suggestion, actually she was happy about it. Now she didn't have to worry about taking advantage of Nick and Kim or about John's men coming in in the middle of the night for her.

     Nick nodded and let her go to the house. "Kim isn't here, just so you know. She took Carmina over to a friends house." Nick advised the Deputy.

     "Got it, thanks." The Deputy walked up the front steps and made short work of finding her crutch and jacket. It looked like it was in the middle of being mended. Kim has stitched up numerous holes and the frayed hem of her sleeve. The Deputy didn't remember asking her to do that but it was heart warming.

     Honestly the Deputy didn't know why she'd even come there other than Kim's wishes. She was putting everyone in that home in danger just by being near it, she was putting Carmina in danger. The thought of something happening to any of them because of her made the Deputy's stomach turn.

     Before she left the Deputy found a piece of paper and wrote a note to Nick and Kim thanking them for letting her stay with them. She set the note on the coffee table and grabbed her jacket and crutch and left the house. She said one final goodbye to Nick and drove off.

While she drove the Deputy felt around in the pockets of her jeans until she found what she was looking for. It was a small paper note that she'd peeled off the Bliss bullet when it first shot her. Now she unfolded the tiny note and read what it said.

Come home, soldier.

It was Jacob, he'd found her.

The Deputy fumed while she drove. Jacob fucking Seed was the one that shot her, or at least he sent one of his men to shoot her. Everything added up to him being there though. There was no capture party, there were no hunters, nobody to pick her up. He just shot her with a Bliss bullet to fuck with her head, not to kidnap her.

The Deputy muttered curses to herself (and Jacob) while she watched the scenery around her change from the warm sunny fields of Holland Valley to the tall pines and old cabins of the Whitetail Mountains. She may have told Nick that she was going to spend sometime with Sharky but she changed her mind. She had some revenge to take.

She'd already called Jess on the radio and asked her to meet her at the lumbar mill. Jess was more than happy to agree, especially after hearing the vengeful tone in her voice. When she pulled up to the lumbar mill Jess was already standing out front, her bow ready in her hands. The Deputy didn't get out of the truck, just stopped and let Jess get in.

"Where are we going?" Jess asked while she hopped in the passenger seat.

"I don't know but it might get messy." The Deputy warned as she backed out the way she came.

They drove in silence for a while, not even listening to the radio. Jess glanced over at the Deputy. "Not that I don't love this new vengeful side of you but I gotta ask, where is it coming from?" She asked as the Deputy pulled down a random dirt road.

"You know how they say 'it's all fun and games till you kick the hornets' nest'?" The Deputy asked and slowed the truck to a halt.

"I don't think anyone says that but I get the point." Jess admitted and looked over at the Deputy while she put the truck in park.

"Well Jacob Seed has officially kicked this hornet's nest." The Deputy shut off the truck and hopped out. Jess followed her as she marched into the woods.

"Alright! Now we can have some real fun!" Jess exclaimed and hefted her bow. "What are we gonna do to him?"

"We're pretty close to the Veterans Centre, aren't we?" The Deputy asked and Jess nodded. "We're going to send Jacob a little surprise." The dark tone in the Deputy's voice was making Jess uncomfortable. Yes that is Jess as in the trash-talking, scary Jess. So her being uncomfortable meant a lot.

"What are you planning?" She asked hesitantly. She of course wanted to fuck with Jacob but she didn't know how far the Deputy was willing to go.

"You'll see." The Deputy assured her and snuck through the trees. They walked in silence until they could hear the sound of the Veterans Centre, the men training and Judges howling, the trucks driving in and out. It was bustling. The Deputy and Jess managed to avoid every guard that Jacob had stationed around the place as a perimeter.

They got pretty close to the Veterans Centre, perched up on the same hill that Jess was shooting the guards from when they got the Deputy back. The Deputy looked into the Centre with her binoculars.

"What are we doing?" Jess whispered to her friend.

"I need you to shoot one of those guards with your bow."

"Sounds easy."

"And I want you to tie this on your arrow." The Deputy handed Jess a small note. Jess unfolded it and read it.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you do this?" Jess asked as the Deputy went back to counting guards with her binoculars.

"Don't worry, I have a plan. Can you do it?" She asked and Jess, of course, nodded.

Jess refolded the note and tied it to an arrow. "Who do you want me to hit?"

The Deputy found a guard standing on the front step that seemed perfect. He was in clear view of most everyone there and besides, how perfect would it be to send Jacob a message right to his front door? "The one on the front step." She said and Jess nodded.

It was a pretty far shot but Jess knew she could make it. She pulled the arrow back in her bow, aiming for the perfect arch to hit the guard. She took a deep breath and let the arrow fly. Immediately they both ducked down to prevent getting spotted and the Deputy peaked in at the scene of chaos through her binoculars.

The arrow hit dead on in the guards neck, causing him to crumble immediately. As quick as he fell the entire Centre erupted like an anthill. People rushed and grabbed guns, preparing for an attack. "That's our queue." The Deputy nodded to Jess and they both turned and slid down the hill further into the forest and away from the Veterans Centre.

It wouldn't take long for Jacob's men to radio the guards around the perimeter to be on high alert so the Deputy and Jess had to make it past the guards first. They made their escape with only the one casualty, not killing a single other guard or hunter or anything.

When they made it to the Deputy's truck she couldn't help but grin. She knew for sure that that was going to get Jacob's attention. Now all she had to do was wait.

Heyo! I finally got the brain cell working. I couldn’t stop thinking about the aftermath of the fight with Robotnik and how Sonic kinda trailed after Maddie and Tom... there’s no way they let him go back to his cave as beat up as he was, right?

Yeah, I don’t think so either.

Maddie was exhausted. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, worrying over her wanted criminal of a husband. Then there was the hedgehog from space, the crazy doctor with the robots, and she had been pushed off a roof. Suffice to say, it’d been a crazy twenty-four hours.

But it occurred to her as they were walking away from the scene of the battle, that her poor husband was probably three times as tired as she was. He’d been running from the government for nearly two days now. There was no telling that whack-job of a scientist had hit him with. If the state of his truck was anything to go on, it wasn’t pretty.

She paused. There were footsteps behind them a few seconds ago.

Tom seemed to notice too. “Where did…” They spotted Sonic a little ways back, falling behind. “You okay, kid?”

“All good, Donut Lord!” Sonic straightened a bit and smiled. “You guys go ahead, I’m just gonna head home.”

“Home?” Maddie asked. “You have… where is home?” Sonic made a vague gesture towards the woods. “You live in the woods?”

Sonic laughed a bit. “You say that like you were expecting something differe-” His laughter collapsed into a coughing fit.

Tom started towards him. “Sonic?” Maddie wasn’t far behind, not missing the panic laced in her husband’s voice.

He waved Tom off. “Fine! I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Maddie shook her head. “You are not fine.” Oh geez, how could she forget the kid? Tom may be more exhausted than she was, but Sonic had been zipping around nonstop. He’d almost died ten minutes before. Not to mention the massive amount of energy he just put out. “No way you’re going in the woods in your condition.”

She highly doubted he’d make it to wherever ‘home’ was before passing out from exhaustion. Not to mention the possible concussion. There were definitely going to be some cuts and bruises, most likely some burns as well. Once the adrenaline wore off, everything was going to start hurting like a bitch.

Sonic blinked. “Um. But my cave is in the woods. So I kinda have to… go in the woods?”

“Nope.”

“Pretzel Lady, I think you’re misunderstanding the concept of ‘going home’.” Sonic narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t hit your head when I pushed off that building, did you?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I think she wants you to come home with us, kid.”

Sonic tilted his head. “Uh… why?”

“Because I’m a doctor and I say so.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh,” Maddie interrupted. “You’ve been knocked unconscious by two explosions. No way in hell you’re going anywhere by yourself.”

“Three explosions, actually.” Sonic noticed the look on their faces. “It wasn’t for very long! Robotnik knocked me off the side of the building and I blacked out for a just a split second. Not a big deal.”

Big deal. Very big deal. “I’ve just decided I don’t want you walking.” Sonic spluttered in protest. “Look, either I’m carrying you or Tom is, and you don’t get a say.”

“Hang on-”

Maddie ignored him. “You know what? Tom’s not in any condition to carry you.” She scooped Sonic up and started walking again.

Tom looped an arm over her shoulder. “I’m not in any condition to carry him, huh?”

“You have to listen to me too,” Maddie said sternly. “I may be a doctor for animals, but I’m also your wife.”

“And what’s your advice?” Tom asked. “As my wife, and not a vet.”

“Sleep,” Maddie said, “Right after we get our little alien friend patched up.”

Sonic shifted in her arms. “Little alien friend is still here. And he still wants down.”

Maddie carefully tightened her grip around him, not wanting to agitate any injuries but also not wanting him to try and jump down. “Little alien friend is gonna have to deal.” Sonic huffed. “The house isn’t that far. You’ll survive.”

True to her word, the walk only lasted about fifteen minutes or so. Fifteen minutes filled with banter between Sonic and Tom, but Maddie didn’t miss the occasional wince. The injuries were starting to catch up with him, just like she thought they would.

Tom opened the door for her when they got to the house. “Should probably warn you that the kitchen is a little… messy?”

“A little messy?” Maddie asked as she walked in. “I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“He’s totally lying,” Sonic said, “Kitchen’s kinda destroyed.”

Maddie peered into the kitchen and sighed. She was too tired to be angry. She’d ask about what happened in the morning. “We’ll deal with it later. Tom? Can you get my first aid kit? We’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

Sonic squinted against the light when Maddie flipped the light switch. “Oh wow, that is bright.”

She set him on the counter next to the sink. “So. Anything in particular that hurts?”

He scrubbed at his eyes. “Uh, my eyes?”

Maddie laughed. “Aside from that.”

Lifting his head and blinking, Sonic said, “Not really.” He smiled in relief. “Okay, that’s better.”

“Eyes adjusted?” Maddie studied his pupils carefully. They had both adjusted quickly, so there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with them. “How’s your head?”

“It’s fine.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Without her equipment, she couldn’t make an official assessment, but she could get the basics down. “We’re gonna check to make sure you don’t have a concussion, okay? Try touching your nose.”

Sonic looked confused, but he did it. “What does this do, exactly?”

“Tests your coordination,” Maddie answered. “We’re testing your memory next, just to make sure. Do you remember what Crazy Carl calls you?”

“Sure, Blue Devil.”

“And how did you first meet Tom?” That one was more for her own curiosity. She knew Tom had shot him with her tranquilizer, but it didn’t hurt to confirm.

Sonic hesitated. “Like, when did I first see him or when did we first talk?”

“When you first talked.”

“He shot me with a… something. Tranquilizer, I think.” He tapped a spot in his leg. “Sucked, but I woke up. I mean, I was in a cage, but I was awake.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “A cage?”

“Yeah. I got out though. I don’t think Donut Lord realized I could do that.”

She considered his size. “Sounds like you woke up pretty fast. That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because it was a tranquilizer for bears,” Maddie said.

Tom walked into the bathroom with the first-aid kit. “Is he telling you about the tranquilizer? You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?”

“You shot him,” Maddie said, “He doesn’t have to ‘let go’ of anything.” She took the first-aid kit and opened it up. “Given your size, the amount of sedatives should have put you down for several hours.” She decided to leave out the part where it possibly could have killed him. “I guess it just worked through your system really fast. Do you have a high metabolism?”

“A what now?”

“Are you hungry a lot?” Tom clarified.

Sonic gave them a one-arm shrug. “I guess so?” Maddie took the arm he shrugged with and started looking it over. Bruising was hard to check for, but there were a few scratches. Those would heal on their own in no time.

Then she reached for his other arm, and he recoiled. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Sonic said quickly.

Tom snorted. “Try again.”

Sonic gave him a brief glare. “Okay, fine, it’s just… kinda hurts to move my arm. A little. It’s not that bad.”

“Hurts where?”

“I said it’s-”

“Sonic,” Maddie interrupted firmly.

He opened his mouth to protest, then stopped himself. “My shoulder,” he muttered.

Maddie turned Sonic so she could look at his shoulder. She hadn’t noticed it because it was dark outside, but in the bright light of the bathroom, she could see the gash. Not deep enough to need stitches, thankfully, but they’d have to keep an eye on it.

That wasn’t all. She also caught a glimpse of his back. Glancing in the mirror allowed her to see the rest. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be, but there were definitely some burns.

She crossed her arms. “So when I asked if anything was hurting…” Sonic glanced away. “Anything else?”

Sonic shifted under Maddie’s disapproving stare. “Look, everything is faster for me than it is for you, okay? This is gonna heal up super duper quick and it’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the point,” Tom said. “You have to be honest so that we can help.”

“So you can…” Sonic paused. “Right… help. Okay.” He met Maddie’s gaze. “My shoulder is… that’s probably a cut, right? I think my back is burned… and my leg hurts, but not really bad, just a little.”

Tom patted Sonic on the shoulder that wasn’t injured. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Yeah, it was that hard,” Sonic said. “Still kinda new to the help thing. I’m used to just... letting things heal up on their own. They always do eventually.”

Maddie had several questions about that statement, but she decided to ignore them. “Tom, can you hand me a washrag? I’m gonna try and get some of this blood cleaned up.”

Sonic tried twisting his arm around to look at his shoulder. “How bad is it?”

“I’ve seen worse.” Maddie turned on some warm water and let it run over the rag. “But it’s still not gonna feel very good while I do this.” She wrung out the rag, but left the warm water running.

She knew from experience how hard it was to wash dried blood out of fur, but luckily the wound was pretty fresh, most likely from the last explosion that landed him in Green Hills, so it was pretty easy to rinse off.

“You okay, bud?” Tom asked.

Sonic set his jaw. “Yep.”

Neither of them believed him.

Maddie ran the rag under the water again. “Okay, I’m gonna try and clean up some of these burns now.” She gently pressed the rag against his back and he hissed in pain. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine,” Sonic muttered.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Tom told him.

“I’m totally fine,” Sonic repeated insistently. “It doesn’t even hurt that ba-haaaaad.”

Maddie pulled away. “That sounded a little not totally fine.”

Sonic’s hands curled into fists. “I’m fine, Pretzel Lady. It’s all good.” His gaze darted to Tom. “Why aren’t you helping him? I wasn’t the only one who got hurt.”

“Nice try,” Tom said. “The most I got is a few scratches and some bruises, and I can take care of those myself.”

Maddie set the rag to the side and turned off the water. “Alright, enough. Sonic, how fast do you think this will heal?”

There was a pause. “I mean… a week, maybe? Or two?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, that’s not too bad. No concussion, no stitches, all the burns are first degree… think we’ll put some antibiotic on those, wrap them up just in case, and check on them tomorrow.”

“So… I can… come back tomorrow?” Sonic asked as Maddie pulled the antibiotic from her first-aid kit.

“Come back? No. You’re not leaving.” Maddie gently spread the antibiotic over the cut on his shoulder and the worst of his burns. “I know you’re probably anxious to get back to… wherever you live, but I seriously don’t want you speeding around the woods at night. You’re too tired and way too banged-up.”

“And,” Tom added, “You can’t change her mind. So you’re stuck here until further notice.”

Maddie couldn’t quite place the look on Sonic’s face. He looked like he wanted to protest, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. She had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t entirely opposed to staying the night.

She put the antibiotic away and started wrapping up the injuries. “Will you be okay crashing on the couch?”

Sonic showed the barest trace of a smile. “I uh… yeah. That sounds… kinda great, actually.”

Tom clapped his hands together. “Alright. I’m gonna go find a blanket or something for the little guy while you finish up.”

“I’m not that little!” Sonic protested while Tom walked away.

“You barely reach my waist kid!” Tom shouted from the hallway. “You’re tiny!”

Maddie smiled apologetically. “Sorry kid, but he’s right. You’re pretty small for a teenager.” He muttered grumpily as she helped him down. “I’m sure you’re normal-sized for an anthropomorphic hedgehog.” Sonic made a noncommittal sound, like he wasn’t sure himself, and followed Maddie to the living room. “What? Didn’t you see people like you on your planet?”

“No,” Sonic yawned. “I lived with an owl. And I pretty much grew up on this planet, anyways.”

That raised about ten-thousand more questions that Maddie was pretty sure Sonic wouldn’t have the energy to answer.

Tom was waiting for them with a blanket. “Okay! Bedtime, dude. You seriously need to rest.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sonic said as he pulled himself up onto the couch.

“And no sneaking out,” Tom warned. “Pretzel Lady said she wanted to check on you in the morning.”

Sonic made no comment as he started to untangle the folded blanket.

“Kid, I’m serious. No running.”

“Okay, okay!” Sonic relented. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Tom looked satisfied with the answer. “Good. And now,” He turned to her, “I do believe my wife prescribed sleep?”

Maddie nodded. “I did indeed.” She gave Sonic one last glance. “Get some rest, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Sonic promised. “And um… thanks. For… you know. Everything.”

She figured there wasn’t a point in trying to convince him that he didn’t need to thank her. “You’re very welcome, Sonic.”

And then she went to bed with her husband, looking forward to sleeping after all the worrying and life-threatening danger. She was just happy that her husband was home and safe and not on the run from the government. And that the poor kid sleeping on the couch was actually sleeping on a couch, and not in the woods somewhere (or worse, trapped on some distant planet).

She briefly considered making breakfast in the morning, as a mini celebration of them not dying, until she remembered that their kitchen was in ruins.

Oh well. Maybe some other day.

In the Line of Fire

Pairing: Royai

Rating: K+

Words: 4872

Summary:  A simple arrest of a corrupt military official turns dangerous and Riza finds herself in the hospital, yet again. She swore a duty to protect her superior and her team, so why were they always so worried about her? Royai + Team Mustang

----

The first thing that registered in Riza Hawkeye's clouded brain was pain.

"Ugh," she groaned, even before things like lights and sounds became more apparent in her sluggish mind. There was a throbbing sensation all across her abdomen that hurt so much she felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach. Her eyes squeezed shut and she attempted to move in whatever odd state she had found herself in, but that only made everything worse.

Just as she started to feel around the tubing across her face, she heard an admonishing voice stop her. "Woah, woah, woah, there, Lieutenant. Try not to move so much."

The voice was feminine and not at all familiar. Riza managed to blink her eyes open and let her vision focus on her surroundings. She was lying down in a bed, she could at least tell that much. The person no doubt attached to the voice from before was standing above her, their hands trying to keep her form still on the bed. The pain was still present (and getting stronger, she realized with another groan) and her limbs felt heavy and slow, like they weren't even attached to her body.

Her brain woke up more and more as she looked around the room she was in. There were machines beeping and nothing but a simple curtain blocking her bed from the rest of the area. The person with the feminine voice came more into focus enough for the sluggish lieutenant to realize she was wearing the uniform of a nurse. She was currently trying to stop Riza from pulling at the cannula providing oxygen into her nose.

"Come on now, dear. Just try and relax. You got out of emergency surgery not that long ago. I don't think the surgeons would appreciate it if I let you reopen your wounds."

Wounds? Emergency surgery? What the hell was happening? Riza thought to herself, trying not to let the rising sensation of panic overtake her senses. She came to the realization that her fuzzy feeling was due to some medication and there was nothing the veteran lieutenant hated more than not being in control of her mind or body.

Vague memories came to her in pieces as she attempted to settle down on the bed and the nurse let out a sigh of relief. A routine warrant arrest. A surprise attacker. The sound of a gun going off. The stench of blood. There had been a lot of blood, that much she could remember for sure. The coppery smell of it was hard to forget. The fact that she was in a hospital in excruciating pain apparently coming out of emergency surgery would suggest that the blood had been hers.

But what exactly had happened? That much her drugged mind was still trying to figure out. Regardless, it was difficult for her to concentrate given the sensation coming from her abdomen.

"It hurts," she let out quietly. She knew she sounded childish, but she didn't think the nurse would hold that against her. The other woman immediately nodded her head and moved to a nearby cart where a few different syringes with clear fluid in them lay.

"I'm sure it does," the nurse said in a knowing voice as she grabbed one of the syringes and attached the end to the IV Riza hadn't even realized was there. She pressed the plunger and a strange tingling sensation erupted in the lieutenant's arm. "There you go, sweetie. Hopefully that will help make you feel muuuch better."

Great, more drugs. At least this one should help with the pain. Riza was finding it very difficult to think about anything else.

"You'll be moved to your room upstairs in a little while, once we're sure everything's stable," the nurse started to say as she began her other tasks. "If you're still awake by then, you can reunite with your team. They've all practically been busting down the door trying to get updates on your condition. Thankfully the surgery went well."

Riza tried to focus more of her energy on remembering what had happened, made easier by the pain medicine's already remarkable effects. She recalled getting assigned to handle the warrant arrest for a corrupt brigadier-general who had been guzzling the military's funds. She and the rest of the Colonel's team had all gone together and things were going smoothly until…

As all the memories flooded back in quick succession, Riza's eyes popped open in panic and she sat up straight in the bed, the worst possible decision she could have made.

She nearly screamed in pain as she fell back down, clutching at her stitched together abdomen. The nurse let out a gasp and ran back to her bedside as she settled. "Jesus Christ, Lieutenant. Now why the hell would you go and do that!? They'll fire me if they see you moving around so much."

Riza gritted her teeth together and tried to control her breathing as the wave of severe pain began to abate slightly. The nurse shook her head and tsked at her, but the lieutenant's mind had gone to a completely different place.

"T-The...the C-Colonel. Is he...is he okay?"

The nurse tilted her head in confusion at the question. She answered her as she reached under the blankets covering Riza and lifted her hospital gown to make sure the sudden movements hadn't reopened the surgical site. "Colonel Mustang? Of course he's okay. He was with the team that brought you in. You're the one in the hospital, why the hell would you be worrying about him?"

Riza supposed she appreciated the candidness with which the nurse spoke to her, considering that attitude was usually rare with the staff of the military hospital, but the other woman couldn't have possibly understood the fear and the panic that had overtaken her and led her to where she was right now.

The arrest had been fine until one of the brigadier-general's men showed up announced with a gun. He'd been a good shot and a stealth expert apparently because not even Riza had seen him coming. Everything had happened so quickly. Just as the colonel was dragging the general outside his home in handcuffs, the man had popped up out of nowhere and started shooting.

His first target was an expected one, but Riza hadn't had any time to try and pull her own gun out to stop him. With the bullet mere seconds away from plunging straight through Colonel Mustang's chest, Riza did exactly what she had been trained to do.

She jumped in front of him and took the bullet herself.

She could hardly recall the inevitable chaos that ensued after she'd been hit. As pain had immediately engulfed her, she'd thankfully still been able to reach around to pull one of her guns out and immobilize the attacker. She figured either Havoc or Breda had swooped in after that to finish him off, but by that point it was too late for her.

The world had started to fade away just as she felt strong arms encircle her form and bring her to lay on the ground. Many different faces had passed across her vision as she struggled to stay conscious while blood poured from the wound, but one of them...oh she'd never forget that one. She'd never forget his look of pure and unadulterated fear.

Still, looking back she had absolutely no regrets. Even given the excruciating pain she was in, she'd do it again in a heartbeat. If she hadn't taken that bullet...she didn't even want to think about what might have happened.

Riza couldn't help the wince as the nurse unwound the bandage around her midsection and she got a good look at the long slice through her abdomen, sewn and stapled shut. No doubt that's where the bullet had landed and she'd just spent the last however many hours in surgery as the doctors searched for shrapnel throughout her gut. The recovery for this one wasn't going to be easy, but at least she was still alive.

The nurse worked quietly to clean around the wound before she wrapped it back up again. A sleepy feeling overtook the lieutenant as the pain medicine started to take even more effect. She had nearly drifted off when footsteps approached from the other side of the curtain and it was tentatively pulled aside to reveal a young girl, probably no older than sixteen, with scared and nervous eyes.

"U-um...Ms. Alicia?"

The nurse instantly stilled, an annoyed look flashing across her face as she started to put up some of her supplies. "What is it this time Madeline?"

The girl caved further into herself at the tone of the nurse's voice, but continued on. "Those men outside are still being very...persistent. They're wondering if maybe just one of them can come back and see her."

The nurse, Alicia, snapped the cover close on a nearby box of supplies and straightened up, her face contorting in anger. "I already told you and them. They don't get to come into my unit and start making demands. That sweet-talking colonel can pull rank all he wants, but he and the rest of his team will wait to visit the lieutenant after she's settled in her room upstairs. Got it?"

The poor girl nearly looked close to tears. "I know, that's what I've been telling them, b-but…"

Alicia sighed and rubbed a spot on her forehead, no doubt trying to abate a headache. She took pity on the poor girl and attempted to soften the tone of her voice. "I'm sorry, Madeline. I'll go out there and yell at them myself in a minute. Colonel Mustang thinks he can get whatever he wants, but he won't pull one over on me."

"O-okay...sure," Madeline answered, as she nodded her head and made to leave.

Riza immediately stopped her. "Wait." She almost made an attempt to sit up in the bed again, but her nurse looked out for blood and she didn't want to try her patience any further. "You talked to the Colonel, right? You're sure he's alright? He's not harmed in any way?"

Alicia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shooed the younger girl away. "Not this again. Lieutenant, I've already told you, the colonel is completely unscathed, otherwise he wouldn't be out there banging down the door trying to get to you. Physically, he's perfectly alright. Emotionally might be another story."

The lieutenant let out a breath of relief at that knowledge and relaxed back on the bed. Good. That was good. She had toed the line of death's doorstep, but she'd do far more if it meant the colonel could continue on and work toward his goals. It took a large weight off her shoulders to know that he had come out of such a dangerous situation unharmed.

She heard Alicia let out a scoff and Riza's eyes turned questioningly toward her. "That must be nice," she spoke, her voice much softer than it had been before.

Seeing the confused look on the lieutenant's face, the nurse continued on. "It must be nice to have a whole group of strong men willing to go to war for you at the drop of the hat."

Riza stayed silent as the nurse got back to her previous tasks. "Rest assured, Lieutenant Hawkeye, I'm a force to be reckoned with in this hospital. If they're all willing to face me, then that must mean they care about you quite a bit."

Riza couldn't help but let out a small sigh. "They shouldn't worry so much. Protecting them all is part of my job."

Alicia tilted her head to concede that point. "Mm, that might be true, but I don't think they'd quite see it that way. I was there when you first got here and were rolled straight to the OR. They all looked like they'd seen a ghost."

The lieutenant pursed her lips shut and said nothing.

As the nurse started to roll up a spare bandage, a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Just wait until you see them again. Especially that commanding officer of yours. The medics that brought you in said you'd taken the bullet for him. I'm sure that's why he's so antsy to see you. He's been out there looking like the most guilty man in the world ever since you arrived."

Another sigh and a shake of her head. "That man's a fool. I'm his bodyguard. That's what I'm supposed to do."

"As I said, I highly doubt he sees it that way."

An uncertain feeling dwelled up within the stoic lieutenant. If even her nurse could tell plain as day what emotions the colonel was experiencing, that put the both of them in a tricky position. She hadn't wound up this seriously injured before, but they'd both been in and out of the hospital throughout their tenure in the military. The worry they felt about each other was hard to keep at bay and people instantly picked up on it. Perhaps if it had been Havoc or Breda who had jumped in front of the colonel, he'd be just as concerned, but she knew it was different with her.

It was always different with her.

Almost able to see the internal battle she was having, the nurse sighed and set down the bandage. She patted Riza on the shoulder and let a rare smile cross her face. "Get some rest now, Lieutenant. You've been through quite a lot in the last few hours and I know you're going to need all the strength you can get once your team is allowed to see you. That morphine should be kicking in real nice right about now."

Alicia was right, as the lieutenant's eyelids began to feel like they weighed tons. She didn't offer any argument as she let the sheer exhaustion combined with the pain medicine let her drift back off to sleep.

---

For the second time in the last day or so, the lieutenant felt like she was swimming through a fog. The pain in her abdomen had gone down to a dull ache and she was able to rest somewhat comfortably in the haze. She started to register the sound of distant voices swimming around in her mind as her limbs started to feel less heavy.

The voices chattered on for a while and she listened contentedly until her mind woke up a bit more and they started to get more clear.

Now she could tell that the voices were distinctly familiar.

"-updated us from the scene. Brigadier-General Graham has been taken to the military prison. His adjutant who shot at us was pronounced dead at the scene. The rest of the area has been secured."

"Bastard didn't even stay alive long enough for us to wail on him. I hope he rots in hell."

"Come on now, Lieutenant Havoc. That seems a bit cruel."

"Cruel!? You know what else is cruel? The lieutenant sitting on her deathbed! I don't give a damn about no stupid general's right-hand man. Not when Hawkeye almost died."

"We should keep our voices down. The nurse said that the lieutenant needs her rest."

The tension in all their voices was quite apparent, even if she hadn't yet gotten a look at all their faces. Alicia was right when she'd said the team had been wracked with worry. In a way it was endearing, considering it was now more obvious than ever how much she meant to all of them, but it still didn't erase the fact that she'd do the same again for all of them.

A quick thought appeared suddenly that she'd heard every member of her team speak...except for one.

"Fuery's right," she finally said, her voice hoarse from sleep. "You're all rather loud."

She cracked her eyes open just as her teammates crowded around her bed. There they all were. Fuery, Havoc, Breda, and Falman all stood with frightfully concerned expressions looking over her form lying on the hospital bed. She managed to get a quick look at the rest of the room, which was different than where she had previously awoken. They must have gotten her all settled in her hospital room. She wondered if Alicia was still going to be her nurse. In the brief interaction they'd had, Riza would admit that she had grown to like the other woman.

"Lieutenant!" Fuery gasped, before clamping his mouth shut in an attempt to be quieter. The other men had no such inclinations.

"How are you feeling Hawkeye?" Havoc questioned.

"Are you still in any pain? I'm told you should be on some strong medications," Falman added in his usual knowledgeable way.

"We've been worried sick about you. That scary nurse from downstairs wouldn't let us anywhere near you," Breda interjected.

She looked at all their faces, unsure of who to answer first and trying to keep from grimacing as the pain increased the more awake she felt. She opened her mouth to say something before all four men moved out of the way as a fifth presence approached the end of the bed, making himself known for the first time since she'd awoken.

"Give her some space," his deep voice ordered, a touch of anger underlying his words.

The rest of the team immediately shut up and Riza's eyes finally focused on his form. Colonel Mustang stood resolutely at the end of her bed, an expression on his face that would be completely unreadable to most but that the lieutenant instantly understood. His gloved hand clutched the railing on the bed tightly, almost to the point of breaking, and the muscles in his face clenched.

"She just woke up from a major surgery. Let her settle down and gather her surroundings."

A chorus of quiet 'yes, sir's answered the colonel's tight words before a tense silence enveloped the group.

"I'll be alright," Riza eventually said in a quiet voice. "To be fair, I woke up earlier. Nurse Alicia already pumped me full of drugs which seem to have done their job decently enough. It's good to see all of you."

She just managed to give them a small smile which seemed to ease the tension from most of them.

"Is that the same nurse that yelled at all of us?" Havoc quietly asked, and if she had the energy, Riza would have laughed at the frightened expression that passed throughout the men. Alicia must not have been kidding about not messing with her part of the hospital. It was amusing, to say the least.

"Seriously, Hawkeye. Are you feeling okay? You scared the living daylights out of all of us," Breda said, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

"The doctors told us you were lucky. We managed to stop a lot of the bleeding at the scene and the bullet did minimal damage internally. From what I've been reading about gunshot wounds in trauma situations, it could've been a lot worse," Falman commented, his face shadowing over.

"It's good to see you awake," Havoc added, his voice thick with emotion as he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed.

"I've got Hayate at home with me now. I'll make sure to walk him a lot and only give him treats when he's good," Fuery said with a reassuring smile.

Despite the situation, Riza couldn't help the warm feeling that arose within her at her teammate's words. She reached up to Havoc's hand on her shoulder and grasped at it, a thankful expression passing across her face. "Your concern is appreciated. I'm sure you're right in saying I'm lucky. I know it won't be an easy road to recovery, but truthfully I've dealt with worse."

The rest of the team couldn't possibly understand the hidden meaning within that statement...but Mustang did. His eyes briefly narrowed before he turned to look out the window, maintaining his blank expression.

The group chatted for a few more minutes, Riza's reassurances putting the men far more at ease than when they had arrived at the military hospital. As the sun set from outside the window, the room was cast in a darker light. Finally, the colonel cleared his throat and stepped back up to the bed with authority.

"It's been a long day and it's getting late. Visiting hours will soon be over and we need to write a full report on what happened tomorrow morning."

Even with the mention of tedious paperwork, the group nodded their acceptance and said their goodbyes to their lieutenant, promising to be back to visit tomorrow. Riza knew her injury was just the result of her doing her job, but it was nonetheless still sweet of them. She really did appreciate their concern, even if it was slightly unfounded.

Her teammates filed out of the room speaking their last goodbyes, leaving the space in a deathly silence. Colonel Mustang had stayed behind, which didn't surprise Riza in the slightest, but she still didn't know if she was ready for the inevitable conversation.

He didn't say anything for awhile and the lieutenant didn't try to initiate anything either. Her eyes followed him as he placed his hands in the pockets of his black overcoat he hadn't taken off for some reason and he walked up to the machine recording her vitals. He watched as her heart rhythm strip was meticulously drawn out with each of her passing heartbeats. She could only imagine the thoughts swimming through his mind.

Eventually, Riza got tired of the silent treatment and asked, "Are you alright, sir?"

His eyes instantly flashed toward her and if the atmosphere hadn't been so serious, she might have laughed at his look of pure confusion. "Am...am I alright?" he repeated in disbelief.

The lieutenant didn't falter. "Yes. I wasn't with it enough to have seen if there were any other attackers. The nurses told me you were fine, but I wanted to make sure that you were unharmed."

The colonel let out a huff at her and placed his hands on his hips, seemingly searching for words to respond to that with. He looked absolutely baffled that she would be asking him such a thing right now.

"Am I unharmed? Lieutenant, you just took a bullet to the stomach, why the hell are you always worrying about me?" The heat that nearly spilled off his words caused Riza to narrow her eyes in annoyance. Could he be that clueless?

"You ask me that like it's not my job to protect you. That man was shooting at you, not me."

"And yet, here you are again taking the brunt of the blow for my sake."

"That's what I'm supposed to do!" she exclaimed as she raised her voice. She couldn't figure out why him, her team, and pretty much everyone else considered it such a huge tragedy that she'd been shot. She signed up for this. She was a soldier. It was a duty she took on willingly by her own volition, but everyone wanted to turn her into some kind of martyr.

"No," Roy countered, his voice rising to match hers. "No, that is not what you're supposed to do. I didn't bring you, and everyone else, onto my team to lay down their lives for meaningless reasons. You fight to live and help with my goals, not die just to keep me unscathed."

"Meaningless!?" Riza asked incredulously, ignoring the pain flaring up at the energy she was having to use for this argument. "Someone was going to shoot you. I'm your bodyguard, Colonel, what better reason could I possibly have?"

"That's just it though!" Roy nearly shouted. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to control the pace of his breathing. He was getting far too worked up about this. "You're not just my bodyguard. You're not just my adjutant."

You mean so much more than that to me, were the unspoken words at the end of his statement. She was glad he hadn't actually said it out loud. She probably would've searched for a gun and shot him if he had. She did not need him bringing such ideas into this right now. She needed to remain practical. She couldn't think about how badly her almost dying was affecting her superior. That in and of itself brought on a whole host of complicated questions she did not have the energy to answer.

"Colonel," she began, her voice rising in volume as she went along. "This is not about who gets to be the one lying in the hospital bed. I saw the attacker move, I knew where he was aiming. If I hadn't done anything you'd be dead right now!" With her final shout, she made a move to sit up fully and instantly felt like she had been shot all over again.

She let out a strangled cry of pain and fell back against the bed, her breathing heavy. Instantly, the colonel's entire angry countenance fell, replaced by one of concern and worry. Much like Havoc, he placed a hand on her arm and began rubbing up and down to provide comfort as she rode out of the wave of intense pain.

Her eyes were still shut and her breathing was haggard, but she gathered enough strength to continue on. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I let that happen. You stupid man, there would be no point for me if I just let you die. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You know I would."

Here, her eyes opened, and she met the colonel's dark gaze fiercely. He would not change her mind on this. She would not waver. She would help him in any way to get where he needed to be. Even into hell, had been the vow. She was deadly serious about that.

The colonel said nothing as his anger dissipated and his face returned to the blank expression from before. He heaved a loud sigh before he stood to full height and walked out of the room. He returned mere moments later with a nurse equipped with all the proper pain medications. She got another dose of one of them, the nurse looked her over to make sure things were still okay, and then left the room as quickly as she had come, sensing the charged atmosphere.

Riza watched with hooded eyes as Mustang sat himself in the chair by her bed and slumped his shoulders. He'd be kicked out for the night shortly so Riza was sure he was trying to figure out the words he wanted to leave her with.

Eventually, he spoke in a quiet tone, "Lieutenant...please stop acting like your life is meaningless. I know you're trying to protect me and I want you to but...you can't be so reckless. Please, for my sake, don't be so reckless."

As he spoke, Riza could see, truly see, the emotion that had been plaguing him. She could see every bit of fear, worry, terror, and anxiety he'd experienced since watching her take a bullet for him. He was taking the responsibility of everything onto his shoulders, as he always did, and it was weighing him down heavily.

They were close enough that Riza could reach out for his gloved hand without much effort, and she squeezed it reassuringly. His haunted eyes instantly met hers.

"You're one to talk about being reckless," she eventually said, a ghost of a smile on her face revealing her slight tease. To his credit, Roy managed to let out a breath he'd been holding in. "I'll be alright. I'm still alive. That's all that should matter now."

The colonel's face became more determined. "You're damn right that's all that matters. And it better stay that way. You can't keep watching my back if you're not around."

Riza simply nodded her head, their argument resolved and their worries momentarily lifted.

Surprising her thoroughly, Roy let a lopsided and tired grin cross his face before he leaned over to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. The lieutenant could feel her cheeks heating, and she'd berate him for the gesture later, but the colonel had already stood to his feet and began to make his way out of the room. He flashed her one last smile, promised he'd be back to check on her early the next day, and then left her alone in the dark.

She laid back on the pillows, sleep wanting to overtake senses yet again. She pictured Roy's face as she drifted off. Regardless of what he thought, she had, and would always have, a duty to protect him. She had a duty to protect her entire team. With all her skills, she would not watch one of them die if there was something she could do about it.

Still, the colonel's unspoken order resonated loudly in her mind. She was to keep living and fight to keep living, as long as she was with him on his climb to the top.

This time, it was an order she didn't mind following.

Author already had 5 soulmarks -all platonic, thank god- so he really didn't need any more. But there it was, the sixth mark, appearing right on his neck. And clearly a romantic one as well. He doesn't want any soulmates. He wants to be alone. He doesn't want romance, he hates it. But apparently, fate wanted to smother him in love and affection, if he wants it or not. 

~

more nsfw but you can skip it

featuring resident enis mark

~

They were dating. Author had finally acknowledged it, and had officially told Edward that they're dating, and he told him he liked him -and Edward liked him as well, quite obviously, though it was still nice to have their situation acknowledged. Edward was also added to the “Author's soulmates” groupchat, being introduced to the other five without meeting them yet. Wilford was all over Edward, wanting to meet him as soon as possible, but Author was not having any of that. So, they were reduced to texting, and making sure Wilford didn't just randomly show up at the cabin to try and meet Edward. They did meet up now and then -sometimes Edward visited Author, sometimes they met somewhere to eat, or take a walk, or something or other. It was nice, like this. Sometimes Edward stayed the night, sometimes they only had sex without anything else, but every time they were happy together. No matter what they did, they enjoyed their time together.

It was the most human contact Author had had in years. Truly, he didn't think he ever had had this much human contact before. And to think he had another romantic soulmate out there somewhere... It was near unfathomable to him. At least Edward was always careful when he came to the forest. He's been told it wasn't the safest, though as long as he stayed on the paths Author had shown him, he'd be safe. Technically, Author knew Edward should be safe. The creatures in the forest corresponded with his emotions after all, and he loved liked Edward. So they should too. But, one could never be too safe. Author didn't want Edward to accidentally get hurt, so he hoped that he would just. Keep to the paths, and stay safe. And when Author just knew there was someone in the forest, and his creatures were getting to them, Author felt a spike of panic. He knew his creatures wouldn't attack Edward. Rationally, he knew that. But his gut told him to go and stop his creatures, and that could only mean it was his soulmate, which could only be Edward. Because Author only cared about Edward, obviously.

Author hurriedly pulled on his shoes, and was off into the forest. He knew where to go, because his creatures were all connected to him, and if he wanted to get to them, he could. And so he went, he hurried, he ran, because he just felt like he needed to, and if he felt like this, then he would. He could hear his guardian growling, and he just knew there was a stranger facing it. And still, he was worried, and that worried him even more. He saw the man who was facing off against the guardian, the scruff appearance he had, how he clutched at his bleeding arm, and still glared at the creature before him. “What do you think you're doing?”, Author growled, walking up to the man. He seemed surprised, looking over at Author, before his gaze was back towards the shadowy wolf-like creature. “This monster attacked me.”, the man did reply at least, making Author look over at the guardian. Yeah, he could guess why that would be, seeing how this man was a stranger in his forest. “It's not a monster, it's a guardian. Now come on, I'll patch you up.”, Author said, grabbing the other's uninjured arm, tugging on it. The man turned to look at Author, glaring at him at first- before his gaze softened lightly.

“Fine..”, he relented, and Author -for some bizarre reason- smiled lightly. Author began leading the other away, while the man's gaze stuck to the guardian, until they were out of its sight. “I'm Issac.”, Author introduced himself, because it was how he usually introduced himself -no matter if he preferred to be called Author. Issac was more anonym than Author, in the end. “A pleasure. Leon.”, Leon replied in a mutter, though Author wasn't really bothered by Leon's tone or expression. “You usually pick a fight with monster like creatures?”, Author asked, because well, he wanted to know if Leon was always this reckless. “Considering usually I fight for survival against them, yes.”, Leon replied, making Author chuckle lightly. Not the answer he expected, but a pleasant one nonetheless. Well, “pleasant”. Obviously fighting for survival wasn't pleasant.

As they walked, Leon told Author about Monster Gulch, briefly mentioned the friends he had had, and how he had found his way here. Author listened mostly silent, nodding along, though also sometimes asked something or other. He mostly didn't say anything though. Until Leon asked about the “guardians”, so Author roughly explained that they were beings supposed to keep the forest and its inhabitants (him, though he didn't say that) safe. He did mention they didn't hurt him because he lived in the forest (and so was an inhabitant, though that wasn't the full real reason obviously). When they arrived at the cabin, Leon got to settle in the living room by the fire, while Author went to grab the first aid kit he kept around -which was much better stocked than before, thanks to Edward.

“Uhm...”, Leon looked at Author when the man came back, holding his shirt up -originally to get to his wound and let Author take care of it, but... well, there was also his soulmark, and Author had a wonderful view of it below the injury. It was an inkwell -which wasn't too exciting in itself, if it weren't for the fact that it was coloured in. Blue ink and gold lettering. Judging from Leon's expression, Author was guessing it had just coloured in. “Well.”, Author breathed out heavily, walking over and setting the kit down. He shifted to pull his own shirt up slightly, twisting to take a look at the combat knife on him. Yep, coloured in, in greys and a dark green handle. “No wonder I was so worried.”, Author muttered, kneeling down on the ground to start taking care of Leon's wound. Mentioned man looked a little uncertainly at Author, probably taken aback by his nonchalant.

“You're not... surprised? Or anything?”, Leon asked, just slightly wincing as Author cleaned the blood away, and readied these needles stitches bandaids -whatever they were called. Thing is, they replaced actual stitching, which was good. “Well...”, Author shrugged lightly. “I have more soulmarks. You're my second romantic one.”, Author avoided the question with saying that instead. That, quite obviously, also made Leon blink a couple times. “Ah. Well. I have a platonic one.”, he countered, uncertain what exactly to say. It was quite alright though, since they were both a little awkward with words. “I'm. Alright with that. You having multiple marks. Have.. you met them already?”. “Yep. We're dating. He's fine with sharing too. And he's a doctor.”, Author answered, finishing up and getting back up. He sat down next to Leon then, close but not uncomfortably so. “Alright.”.

They sat in silence for a while, just staring into the flames. Until Leon fell asleep, falling against Author, startling the man slightly. Taking a deep breath, Author sighed, rubbing his face. So this was how he met his second soulmate? He wondered if Leon would go back to Monster Gulch again. Probably, he supposed, though it might be harder to stay away with having found his soulmate. Or maybe it wouldn't be as hard, since Leon's travelling around was a part of him. Author wouldn't mind if Leon wanted to stay away and only come back every once in a while. He liked being alone after all, and even with dating Edward, Author still enjoyed his solitude. And if he wanted company, he could get it. It was nice. He wouldn't stop Leon from leaving, and he wouldn't stop him from staying either. He'd stop him from staying in the cabin, but still.

He gently shifted Leon to lay down on the couch, so he could stand up. He went ahead to go grab a blanket, so he could tuck Leon in, before making his way to the study. He'd wait for the other to wake up, before making them something to eat. He was pretty sure Leon would enjoy something warm and good to eat.

He did want to wait for Leon to wake up, but eventually, Author got hungry himself. So, he went ahead to go to the kitchen, and start making something to eat. Humming to himself as he cooked, eventually turning on the radio quietly in the background. He was already talking to himself quietly as he worked, thinking about his current story he was writing. He was getting immersed in what he was doing, focused on what he was cooking, as well as thinking about his story, as well as vaguely listening to the radio. Well, he wasn't really listening to the radio, it was just background noise filling his mind like static, and allowing him to focus. Which meant he didn't notice at all when Leon woke up. Because right now, he was debating about a plot point to himself, which meant a lot of random thoughts being spoken out loud that were only half connected, and Author's full attention being on those thoughts rather than his surroundings. His movements cooking were automatic.

“Issac?”, Leon's voice startled Author, making him flinch and drop the spoon as he lost his concentration. “Sorry about that.”. “It's fine.”, Author waved him off, picking his spoon back up to continue what he was doing. What was he doing? He actually had no idea, so he had to take a step back and actually look. “I'm cooking for us. Figured you'd like something warm to eat.”, Author hummed, motioning to whatever he had been making. It certainly smelled good, that he could say for certain, and he could figure out what he was cooking as well. “It smells good. Thanks.”, Leon smiled at Author, and the man cursed himself for being his romantic soulmate, because it made him feel things, and Author did not like that. He had enough to do with his feelings for Edward, and he's been dating him for a good while by now. He felt it was unfair, how quickly he felt for Leon, and how slowly it had been for Edward. He supposed the circumstances were different too though. Leon would eventually leave to Monster Gulch again, and that sooner rather than later, so their feelings would developed faster to make up for it.

“Sit down. I'm finished soon.”, Author mumbled, Leon humming as he did as told. A couple minutes later, Author had finished the food and grabbed some plates and cutlery, setting everything down on the table, before the food was also set down. Author sat down at the table as well then, and together they started to eat. They were quiet as they ate, though when Leon commented how good it tasted, Author blushed slightly -flustered- and waved him off. That didn't stop Leon from nearly scarfing down his food like a starving man though. In comparison, Author barely ate anything, though it was more than enough for him. He never ate all that much, after all. When they were done, Leon helped Author clean up, taking care of the dishes while Author put the food away. It was a comfortable silence between them -the radio still quietly playing in the background, unnoticed by either individual.

It felt like they were dancing around each other, in a way. Neither knew the other well, barely at all, but being soulmates made them feel close already, like they had been together for at least weeks already. There was a tension between them, something the two of them were unfamiliar with, but it was making the two of them restless. Talking felt wrong. What was there to even talk about? Author found his pendant between his lips, chewing on it because of his nerves, and it brought him back into focus and able to think at least a little bit. “You can use the bed tonight.”, Author said, and maybe it was a little random, but he also wasn't really thinking about anything anymore either. “The bed? Isn't it yours?”, Leon asked, leaning against the counter with his arms lightly crossed. Sleeping in a bed did seem wonderful, especially since he hadn't done so in quite a while. “I don't really use it much.”, Author replied and shrugged lightly. He usually crashed at his desk, or fell asleep in his armchair at the very least -not as far to walk, generally. So, Leon could just as well have the bed, since he certainly needed it more than Author did.

At least, Author thought so. Leon came from a place with barely any safety ever, and now he was somewhere where he couldn't be safer -with Author, obviously. In his cabin, in his forest, which he protected. So he couldn't be safer, obviously. And now that he was safe, he could enjoy everything that came with safety. Like a warm bed, and warm food, and clean clothes. Such things. Obviously. And an arm-full of Author, apparently, because when Author got his focus back to the situation at hand, he had his arms wrapped around Leon's neck and was kissing him. Or had Leon started kissing him? Because Author was trapped against the counter he had been leaning against, with Leon's arms trapping him from moving away, and Leon was definitely in control of the kiss. Author didn't mind that though, because he was having a hard time really focusing. He was doing things, but he wasn't really aware of them. He was pretty sure he should just. Stop? He was breathing heavily when Leon pulled away, though the man stood close still, their breaths intermingling. He seemed a little surprised about this development as well, though maybe Author was just imagining things -mostly because he was mostly staring at Leon's lips, and they were moving and- wait. He was talking to him, wasn't he?

Deciding that didn't matter, Author pressed his lips to Leon's again, holding himself close to him, just wanting to be close to him. Maybe because he couldn't focus, and kissing was good, and physical contact was good, and he was touch-starved -though less now that he was actively dating Edward- and Leon was also touch-starved, so this made sense. Obviously. Leon's arms were wrapped around him now, and there was a knee between Author's legs, and Author was breathing heavily as he was kissed so deeply. Pleasure was good, especially a good thing to focus on, because that would distract him a lot, and that would mean he would be in the moment. Which made him realize there were hands on his skin now, beneath his shirt, fingers tracing along the bottom of his binder, and Author just wanted to be even closer to Leon now, just because. So he pressed himself closer to Leon, his hands going into Leon's messy mop of hair, and he noted how nice it felt to touch it, which brought his focus to touching Leon's hair, running his hands through it, feeling he texture, the softness -and also the dirt and dust in it still. Leon needed a shower.

He gasped when he was suddenly picked up, wrapping his legs around Leon to not fall, clinging to him as he was carried. Deciding that this was alright, Author shifted a hand from clinging to Leon to instead touch his hair again, and he pressed kisses to Leon's neck where it was visible. Soon Author was laid down on the bed, and Leon was hovering over him. He was pretty sure Leon was asking him something, was talking about something, and Author was merely guessing what it was about. “You can undress me, touch me, see me, please-”, Author was near rambling, because he was either going to talk or not talk, and there was no in-between. He managed to stop himself from rambling completely though, and he did notice Leon chuckling and smiling at him, and moments later his binder was off and he could breathe easier and he had Leon's mouth on him and- Author gasped and moaned in surprise, back arching off the bed already, because yeah that felt good, and Leon's mouth was really warm and wet and felt so good.

~~Nsfw stuff because yea~~

Leon continued to undress Author, which was nice, because that meant there was more skin for him to kiss, and Author's hands were still in Leon's hair. Or maybe again? Author wasn't paying attention, at least not enough to know when he started and stopped touching Leon's hair. A startled, but definitely pleasured, gasp left Author when Leon was between his legs, and his tongue was lapping at his cunt, and god that felt so good. Author was a moaning mess as Leon ate him out, feeling his warm soft and wet tongue inside his folds, so enthusiastically eating him out. Author bunched the sheets beneath him tightly into his hands, as he gasped and moaned and let pleasure wash over him. It was incredibly teasing, and edging, and Author whined loudly when Leon pulled away. But there were hands on his cheeks, and Leon was looking at him, and Author focused on what Leon was saying. Asking about condoms and lube and stuff -thankfully Author managed an answer. That did mean he was left alone on the bed though, while Leon fetched whatever he needed and wanted, but he was back sooner than Author could really focus on Leon being gone.

And then Leon was back, he was kissing Author deeply, and Author was pushing Leon's shirt off, and pulled the other off over his head, and Author's hands were all over Leon's chest to feel him. Leon happily let him, kissing Author and trailing kisses to his neck, and Author gasped when he felt the other suck a mark on his skin. Leon took that as the sign it was, which meant Leon began biting and sucking harder -harder than Edward allowed himself to get- which made Author moan loudly in pleasure. Leon littered Author in dark red bitemarks, adding blue-purple bruises on his body. Author grew more sensitive with each bite and each sucking, making him whine and whimper needily, and when Leon kissed him proper again, Author was breathless. He hadn't noticed he had managed to undress Leon completely, nor when Leon pulled away for a moment.

He did notice when Leon's cock was pressing against him though, smooth with the condom and cold with lube. That completely didn't matter to Author though, because it felt really amazing, and Author was half-aware of most everything happening by now. He could feel Leon push into him, his arms were wrapped tightly around Leon's neck, and he was making pleasured sounds as he could focus on the wonderful feeling of getting filled. Leon's cock was thicker than Edward's, Author could tell that much, and that was pretty much all that Author could actually tell right now. And when Leon began to thrust into him, Author was gasping with each movement. And there were the words again, falling from Author's lips like a waterfall, begging for more, for Leon to go faster, to fuck him harder. And Leon, having noticed how Author loved to be handled roughly, began to really slam into him, making Author sob loudly in pleasure.

Leon was grunting from the exertion, but he was very happily fucking Author as hard as he could. If only for the gorgeous picture of having the man sprawled out beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as he moaned and gasped and sobbed, hands clenching the sheets beneath him so tightly his knuckles turned white. Author looked beautiful covered in hickeys and bitemarks and bruises, his neck and shoulders, his chest, even a part of his sides. “You're fucking gorgeous.”, Leon had to mutter, because Author was extremely pretty (especially like this), and even if his soulmate wasn't hearing him, he just. Had to say it. Plus, he accentuated his words with hard thrusts, knowing Author was just overwhelmed with pleasure. When Leon sucked over previous bitemarks, and bit into previous hickeys, Author was screaming in pleasure. It felt too good, he wasn't paying attention to anything but the wonderful pleasure he was getting, and when he came Author's breath got stuck in his throat, his back arched off the bed, and he clenched hard around Leon's cock inside of him, making Leon growl as he fucked Author through his orgasm. Author was sobbing when he was overstimulated, tears were in his eyes, and he laid near limp beneath Leon as he pounded into him.

Leon groaned as he came as well, finally merely shallowly thrusting into Author, riding out his orgasm, before he leaned down to breathlessly kiss Author, swallowing up all of his sounds. When they parted, Author was desperately gulping down air, and even Leon was breathing heavily. Author whined softly, brain deciding to not function anymore now that he was thoroughly fucked out. Leon pulled out slowly, making Author whimper.

~~Sex OVER~~

Leon collapsed next to Author, who was definitely ready to pass out now. Covered in marks, he felt really good, and he was already starting to ache a little -not that that mattered, at all, currently. Instead, Author curled up, and Leon pulled him close, letting him rest his head on Leon's chest. Author greatly enjoyed that, because Leon's chest was firm and warm and wonderful, and he could listen to his heart beating right beneath him. And when Leon pulled the blankets over them, Author hummed happily, and was quick to fall asleep.

FBI AU: Interrogation

Continued from Rescue. I’ll update my story and character list with more info about this one eventually, I swear. In the meantime if you’re curious you can always send me an ask, Every Side Character Has A Deep And Fascinating Backstory Because Of Who I Am As A Person.

TW for: panic attack, vomiting, referenced noncon, stitches

Thankfully, Simon’s shoulder is about as minor as gunshot wounds get. 

The gun is high enough caliber that while the hole is fairly large and the bone isn’t in great shape, the bullet was never in there festering, so they sew him closed and tie it in a sling with stern instructions not to move it, and they let him wander around within twenty-four hours of his arrival at the hospital, with instructions not to leave or fall asleep without permission, since the man he now knows was Tenor Bradshaw apparently had fists made of granite. He gets debriefed by more than one Bureau official, though Farah is notably absent, which is a bit of a relief, to be honest. He kind of can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now. He also talks to the local chief of police, after getting clearance from the Bureau, since the murders took place in his city. He does not answer the many requests for interviews, though the Bureau invites him to come stand at the press conference. The outreach officer who asks him is visibly disappointed; he knows they’ll ask Rona next and he guesses she might even say yes, but he knows his sling would make him good press. He doesn’t have the stomach for it at the moment.

Instead he finds the reception desk and asks for Heinrich Arthur Lange’s room.

He knows the kid’s name now, it was the first thing he asked when he woke up. He also knows that he’s the surviving son of Senator Heinrich Lange Senior and the solution to a missing person’s case that hadn’t been his division, obviously; apparently the kid disappeared from the Senator’s secure townhouse three weeks ago, which is a hell of a long time to be chained to a wall, and an unthinkably long time to be alone with at least two violent rapists.

Simon doesn’t look at his chart, because he already knows more than he wants to. He asks the doctor about the prognosis, and it’s about what he expected, though to be honest he’s surprised the boy’s heart is still beating--in addition to all the injuries Simon could see and feel, the kid lost a dangerous percentage of his blood volume, triggering a stroke. Parts of his brain look wonky on scans, probably were even before Tenor Bradshaw hit him with a fist like a freight-train, but there’s no way to know the extent of the damage until and unless he wakes up and tries to talk. The doctor calls his survival to this point a miracle, but Simon remembers how he looked at Tenor Bradshaw and thinks god had very little to do with it; that skinny kid just has a spine of steel.

He’s deeply unconscious when Simon goes in to see him, and presumably will be for a while. His shoulder and hip needed to be reset; the hip was broken and had started to heal badly, and Simon thinks they had to rebreak it, though he was thankfully out at the time. Some of the cuts on his mouth had needed stitches, and he was probably already concussed when Simon found him, before Tenor’s punch fractured his skull. There are bandages wrapped firmly around his head, and they’ve bandaged his swollen eye over, something about broken blood vessels. The doctor almost straight didn’t believe Simon when he told him the boy had been awake and talking, though Simon had told him he could see how much it took out of him. The doctor just shook his head and said he hoped it hadn’t worsened his condition too much, which made Simon feel like scum even though he doesn’t really think there’s anything he could have done differently.

Simon knows the Coven members have given statements, including Karim Mun, who seems to have spent the most time with the kid. Simon has pointedly not asked about them, though he did hear that Mun had asked if he could see him, which made his vision go red for a while until he did some very regulated breathing. In the Coven members’ defense, they all agree that they thought he was dead for at least the last two days he was held in Micah Trent’s torture room, and DNA tests seem to show that only Trent and Tenor Bradshaw actually raped him, though given that most of the other Coven members are women, Simon isn’t sure how much that’s actually worth.

Simon flops into one of the chairs around the kid’s bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. It’s all so fucking awful; thinking about it makes his head hurt worse than it already does.

He looks up too fast when he hears the door open, and Farah is already in the room by the time the stars clear from his vision. He starts to leap to his feet, but she holds out a hand to stop him.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Agent Blake,” Farah says, and her voice sounds different than usual, almost gentle. Simon sinks back down, his body grateful even though it feels disrespectful.

“Did you get to--” He isn’t sure how to ask. “Farah... is it them?”

Farah isn’t looking at him, though she nods in response to his question; she moves forward to take the seat at the head of Heinrich Arthur Lange’s bed.

“It’s them,” she says softly.

“Jesus,” Simon says. He has no idea how she’s feeling, whether to be happy or horrified for her. “Farah, I’m--I don’t know what to say.”

Farah looks at him then, and she smiles, though it looks a bit--baffled. “My children are alive, Agent Blake,” she says. “There’s a lot more--a lot that needs working out, between the three of us and the court system, too, I guess, but that’s the biggest part. He didn’t kill them.”

Simon twitches slightly. He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, which is that Trent did something much worse and made them monsters instead. It’s not his place. Holding it in is kind of hard work, though.

Farah smiles, like she knows what he’s thinking and it doesn’t hurt her. She looks back down at what’s left of Arthur Lange. “You found him, huh?” she says in Simon’s direction.

Simon swallows hard. “Yeah.” He doesn’t really want to talk about this, not with Farah, but he doesn’t catch himself before he blurts out, “He mentioned him. Karim.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Your son, I mean.”

Farah looks at him, a tad sharply. “What did he say?”

He said it with his mouth full of blood, and it almost tore him apart, Simon doesn’t say. “I didn’t really understand. He asked if we’d found him. He said--to tell Karim that Micah hadn’t killed him.” Simon feels his face twitch, but isn’t sure what he’s feeling exactly. “I don’t know why.”

Farah nods slowly, and looks down at Arthur Lange, who is nineteen and may never wake up. “I see,” she says.

Simon wants to hold it in, because none of this is Farah’s fault, and it must hurt her more than it hurts him, but he doesn’t make it. “Farah,” he says. “Did Karim Mun--Did Karim do this?” Farah looks confused, and Simon waves his good arm jerkily. “I know Micah Trent did it. I’m asking--if Karim brought him in. If he let him. If he--gave this kid to Micah Trent.”

Farah looks at him, and she doesn’t really look angry, thank god, though he can’t read her face beyond that.

“My son was missing for almost ten years,” Farah says, and Simon winces, because yeah, that’s what he’s been trying not to let himself forget. Farah waves his chagrin away. “What I’m saying is, I don’t know who he’s become in that time.” She pauses to catch her breath; that’s not a sentence anybody can say without pain, even Farah Mun. “I do know he wasn’t a particularly good liar before, and that his story seems to match up with the others’. But I only have their word at this point, and I’m not promising you it’s the truth.” She looks at Simon, maybe to see if he accepts her premise, and he nods warily. “He says he didn’t.”

Simon’s lip curls before he can help it, even though he asked. “Of course he does.”

Farah sighs, and rubs one of her eyes; Simon starts, it’s such a weirdly human gesture, like she’s acknowledging that even she can’t help but be exhausted by this. “I know there’s no reason for you to believe I can be objective about this,” she says tiredly. “I’m still his mother, death-cult member or no. But for whatever it’s worth--” She lowers her hand and makes eye contact with Simon, like she’s making sure he remembers who she is, and to be honest, it means more than he feels like it should. “I believe him, for now.”

Simon looks down at Arthur Lange to get out of looking at her face, and it’s a mistake. He’s nineteen, and Simon’s had so much of his blood on his shirt. He feels exhausted suddenly, like he’s just now remembering that it doesn’t really matter either way; knowing whether Karim Mun is or isn’t a monster won’t make this kid wake up without brain damage.

“I hope you’re right,” Simon says, and it’s true, and not just for Farah’s sake. The kid hadn’t asked about Karim Mun like he hated him.

“So do I,” Farah says, and she reaches out to touch Arthur Lange’s hand, the one that isn’t wrapped up in a sling to avoid strain on his shoulder, but is studded with a stomach-turning number of tubes. “If Karim’s lying, he’s a better liar and a worse man than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Simon looks at her face when she says that, and sort of wishes he hadn’t; she looks for a second a little like a mother whose missing children are probably going to be tried for murder.

“Farah,” Simon says, and isn’t sure what to say after that. He’s grateful when she sighs and gets briskly to her feet.

“I have a small mountain of paperwork to fill out, in addition to the number of different kinds of therapists I have to find,” she says, and yeah, he doesn’t envy her that part. “If he wakes before I’m back, tell him--” She glances down at the bruised body in the bed, and laughs, a little hysterically. “I have no idea what you should tell him, actually. Do your best.” She gives him a half-salute, and walks out.

Simon watches her go, and then he squares his shoulders, and takes his time getting to his feet. He knows where to go next.

There’s a guard posted at the door of Karim Mun’s hospital room, but he isn’t handcuffed to the bed, which seems highly premature to Simon, but he guesses it isn’t his decision, and he hasn’t heard anything about any of the Coven members trying to escape, and maybe it isn’t worth it just for the principle of the thing. Simon tries not to let it bias him. It doesn’t feel like it’s working.

Karim Mun is twenty-four; Micah Trent took him when he was fifteen and his father was dying of prostate cancer. Simon knows all this from Farah, and knows that it should impact the way he feels right now more than it is, but all he can think about is that Karim Mun is right now working his way through a bowl of scrambled eggs, while Arthur Lange might never be able to eat on his own again. It’s an easy thought to get distracted by.

Karim turns to look at him when he enters the room. His hair is bleach-blonde, cut in a way that is probably highly fashionable when styled but is now a mess of curls hanging in his face; he has the slightly shrunken look of someone who has lost a great deal of weight in a very short amount of time, hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. 

“I thought I’d answered all your questions,” he says in a slightly scratchy voice, sounding not resentful so much as tired. He blinks at the look on Simon’s face, a little guarded. Simon has no idea what that look might be; he’s trying hard to keep his face neutral.

Simon sits down next to Karim Mun’s bed, to give himself time to take a few surreptitious deep breaths. Then he makes firm eye contact, which Karim accepts, looking a bit wary. His eyes are a pale greenish-blue, striking against his brown skin; probably he’s very handsome when he’s less exhausted. Simon tries not to let this make him angrier.

“You’re Karim Mun,” Simon says, even though he already knows that. Karim nods once, waiting. “I’m Agent Simon Blake. I found Heinrich Lange in your little compound.”

All the blood visibly leaves Karim’s face. If the eggs weren’t already resting on his tray table, he’d certainly drop them; his fork clatters loudly to the floor as it is. He stares at Simon, face almost green, but doesn’t say anything.

“He asked about you,” Simon says finally, and Karim sits bolt upright so fast he does upend the tray table, eggs flying everywhere; Simon can see his heart rate skyrocket and sighs, not wanting to be interrupted by orderlies.

“Is he awake?” Karim demands, and Simon waves at him dismissively.

“No. They don’t know if he’s going to. Sit down.”

The life drains back out of Karim’s face immediately and he flops back down against the pillows, looking weaker than he did when Simon entered. Simon frowns at him, not sure how to feel.

“He asked if we’d found you,” he says, and Karim closes his eyes. “He told me to tell you that Micah Trent didn’t kill him. I guess you know that by now.”

Karim lets out a shuddering breath and scrubs at his eyes with tube-studded hands. 

“I didn’t know,” he says very quietly. “I thought--I saw them bleed him. I saw his eyes go dead. I thought he was gone.”

He looks at Simon, his hands tightening into fists on his blankets. His eyes are suspiciously shiny.

“I wouldn’t have left him with them if I’d known he was alive. I’d have taken that stupid key from Diana or torn the hinges off the door or something. I’d have died before I left him there. You have to believe that.”

Simon feels his face twist at that last part. “I don’t have to believe anything,” he snaps. Simon realizes that Karim Mun is crying, and he’s suddenly so angry he can’t think; he can feel his hands shaking. “I don’t have to believe anything except that I found that kid with his arm pulled out of its socket and blood coming out of his ass, and all I want to know is if you put him there.”

Simon knows that it’s wrong the second he says it.

He’s never seen a look like that on someone’s face before. Karim stares at Simon like he’s put a fist through his ribcage, and then he hunches forward and throws up all over himself.

“Oh, fuck,” Simon says, catching Karim Mun’s shoulder to keep him from toppling right over out of the bed, and turns to call to the guard at the door that he needs a nurse, now. Karim’s heart is going faster than Simon’s ever heard one, and Simon can hear his breath tearing in and out of his lungs like the air is serrated. “Jesus Christ, kid, don’t, I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it; he’s actually maybe never been this sorry before in his life. Karim convulses again, bile pouring up out of his throat and onto his lap. “Karim, listen to me--he knew.”

Karim freezes, eyes wide but seeing nothing.

“He told me to tell you he was alive. He knew you didn’t know. He didn’t think you’d left him.”

Karim looks at Simon, still coughing up stomach acid, like he’s thrown him a lifeline--like he isn’t the one who shoved him in the water in the first place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the nurse bawls at him when she bursts into the room, and it’s a very reasonable question.

“I fucked him up,” Simon says, scrambling out of her way. “I think he’s having a panic attack.”

The nurse pushes past him, supporting Karim’s back. “Put your head between your knees, hon,” she tells him, and as he’s doing so she shoots Simon the most disgusted look he’s ever received; it physically rocks him back onto his heels. “Get out,” she bites out, and Simon is more than happy to follow that order.

Dexter was developing a routine since joining this new pack. She woke up extra early (before anyone else in the 'barracks'), went for a run, grabbed a coffee on her way back, showered, and waited for a job assignment for the day. When there were no jobs, Dexter spent her free time searching for her own apartment and a side job to help pay the bills. She hadn't exactly been swimming in cash when she joined the pack. A year on the run will do that to a girl.

Because of her routine, it was no surprise to find Dexter running through the city streets as the sun was barely inching over the horizon. She had her headphones in, her pump-up playlist blaring a bit too loud to be respectable. With her strengthened sense of smell, eyesight, and balance, she figured she could spare her hearing while she ran.

She was passing a coffee shop, heading towards the park to run through the wooded trails, when the smell hit her.

Dexter nearly fell right then and there.

The same smell from the party bombarded her senses. New but familiar. Comforting but exciting. It made her heart start beating even faster (which was probably unhealthy since it was already pretty fast).

As Dexter realized that she had run past her mate, her panic response kicked in. Fight or flight. Dexter chose flight. She pumped her arms a little harder, pushed her legs a little faster. By the time she reached the park, she was full-on sprinting.

And the scent was following her.

Dexter refused to look behind her. She took a sharp turn onto a different trail, this one with a little rougher terrain than the one she usually took. The path weaved and curved before her, rocks and tree roots twisting and turning under her feet. But Dexter couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop.

She faintly heard someone calling after her over the sound of her music, but she did her best to ignore it. She focused her attention on the smell, trying desperately to outrun it. She was so consumed by it, however, that in her haze she didn't notice the ground beneath her growing more uneven. The tree roots were becoming thicker, the soil looser, and lifting and dipping unevenly -- this trail was not as well-traveled, not as well maintained.

Dexter didn't see the giant root. But she sure did feel it when her foot slipped just under it, her leg lurching as her momentum carried her forward but her captured foot pulled her back. Dex's instincts kicked in as she ducked her head in, pushed her hands before her, and attempted to use her momentum to roll her forward.

She hadn't seen that she was heading straight towards a drop in the terrain. She gracelessly rolled down the hill, instinctively reaching out to grab onto anything to stop her momentum. She felt her head hit something sharp on her descent. Her arm brushed the broken side of a fallen branch. Her hand finally connected with something steady, and she latched on. She felt her body jerk as she pulled herself to a stop. Her shoulder burned from the pain. Dexter closed her eyes, letting her body fall limp against the earth as she held onto the root her hand found.

Her headphones had fallen out during her fall, and Dexter could hear someone scrambling down the hill above her. She heard muttered curses as the man skidded to a stop above her head.

The scent was almost unbearable.

Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to open her eyes, to take a look at the mate that Fate had picked out for her. To meet her future.

Dexter stayed still.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Don't be dead. Please don't be dead," the voice continued to mutter, a hand reaching out to her neck. She felt him searching for a pulse. Dexter almost laughed.

"I'm not dead," she groaned, her eyes still firmly shut. "Bruised and battered, definitely embarrassed, but not dead."

"Oh thank God," she heard him chuckle. She still couldn't see him, but she could feel him lean back a little, giving her space. It felt easier to breathe now that he wasn't touching her.

"Are you going to open your eyes, or continue to play dead?"

Dex couldn't help the half-smile on her face. She waited a moment, gathering her courage, before slowly blinking open her eyes.

At first, she was blinded by the sunlight poking through the trees, but then he came into view. His hair was a mess, probably from chasing her almost two miles away from that coffee shop, through the park, and down the hill. There was a tear in the knee of his pants, and Dexter could see the dirt and blood on his skin. He must've tripped coming down the hill, scraping it on the ground. His button-up shirt would probably need to be dry cleaned if it was salvageable at all. Yeah, after chasing after Dexter through the woods and stumbling down the hill after her, he was definitely a little worse for wear.

But that wasn't what stopped the brain circuits in Dexter's head. That wasn't what stopped her breath short. That wasn't what made the butterflies in her stomach turn into birds.

His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue-grey she had ever seen. It may have been cliche to think, but Dexter had never seen eyes quite like his. And while her mate apparently had eyes that made her heart skip a beat, Dexter still wasn't ready to be staring into them.

But she was.

"So," he spoke up, a small chuckle in his voice. "You must be Dexter."

Dex nodded, unable to form words as she examined the face of the man hovering over her. She was still getting distracted by his eyes.

"Do you think you can sit up?" He asked gently, offering her a hand for support. "You fell for me pretty hard. I think your forehead might need stitches."

Dexter slowly sat up, wincing as she gently touched her forehead. Judging by the blood on her fingertips and the pounding in her head, he was probably right. Her ankle was also throbbing and burning all at once, from getting her foot caught underneath that root that caused her descent down the hill in the first place. Not to mention every other muscle and joint in her body was aching from the run and the tumble. She was sure there were more minor injuries her adrenaline was just ignoring.

Then his words hit her.

She glared up at him, slapping his hand away as she tried to rise to her feet.

"I did not fall for you," she (harmlessly) snarled. "If you hadn't been chasing after me like some serial killer, I wouldn't have tripped in the first place."

Dexter didn't miss the cheeky grin that the man was trying (and failing) to hide. He took a step back, hands raised in surrender as he chuckled softly.

"Maybe if my mate didn't go running every time I was nearby, I wouldn't have had to chase you."

Dexter rolled her eyes. She didn't need to explain herself to him. He may have been her mate, but she wasn't ready to meet him yet. And she didn't owe him an explanation as to why.

She started to walk forward, trying to get back up the hill and away from him, but as she shifted her weight to her right foot she realized just how big of a mistake that was. She practically howled as a sharp, burning pain raced up her leg. She felt her knees give out. But before she could fall to the ground a second time today, a pair of rather strong arms caught her. In one swift movement, her mate had caught her and lifted her body into his arms bridal style. He started marching up the hill, a furrow in his eyebrows and worry in his eyes.

"We should get you to a hospital. Your ankle may be broken. And you should get checked for a concussion while you get your stitches."

"I'm not going to a hospital," Dexter shook her head, panic filling her veins once again. It wasn't like she was scared to be found out as a werewolf (she knew the pack had connections that would overlook that sort of thing). She just couldn't risk her name being filed into any systems. She couldn't be on any official records. Not while Devin was still hunting her down. But that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with her mate within the first hour of meeting him. She didn't even know his name yet!

"Please, no hospitals. You have to trust me, but I cannot go to the hospital. Please."

The desperation and urgency in her voice must have done the trick. Her mate looked down even more worriedly at her but nodded.

"Fine," he conceded. "I can get a doctor to do an unofficial house visit. We'll go back to the Pack House. It's the closest."

"Thank you," Dexter mumbled softly, tightening her grip around his neck. She felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Her mate probably thought she was bat-shit crazy. And she was just now realizing the humiliation of the entire situation: she had sprinted away, gotten so distracted that she'd tripped, and now he was carrying her to safety because she had hurt herself trying to get away from him.

And she still hadn't learned his name.

"This is going to sound kinda stupid," she mumbled, earning a raised eyebrow from her mate. His grip on her tightened a little as they made there way out of the trail and into the main area of the park.

"But what's your name?"

Her mate let out a small laugh, glancing back down at her.

"Frankie," he introduced himself. "Well, Francesco Bellandi. But my friends call me Frankie."

Dexter felt her heart sink. She really had the most rotten luck.

"Bellandi? Like the Alpha's son, Bellandi?"

"Yes," Frankie answered slowly, that furrow in his brow returning.

Dexter felt like she was going to vomit. Only she would have the bad luck of being mated to the Alpha's son. The Alpha who she still had to prove her worth to. She had spent the last year of her life on the run, searching for a new pack to accept her, to protect her, and now she was mated to the son of the Alpha. Cause proving her worth hadn't been hard enough.

Then another realization came to her. It was harder to hide when you were mates with the Alpha. And one day, Frankie would be Alpha. Her scent would be out there, easily detected by other packs as a sort of warning alongside Frankie's. Devin would be able to find her.

Dexter really felt like she was going to puke.

"Put me down."

The sudden command almost made Frankie stop. And the seriousness in her voice almost made him drop her.

"What? You can barely walk, Dexter."

"Put me down. Now!" Her words came out harsher than she had intended. A passerby spared them a curious glance, but continued on, minding their business. Frankie gently set her down.

"Dexter, what's wrong? Are you feeling dizzy or something?"

Dexter shook her head, taking a gentle step away from him. She winced as the pain rushed up her leg, but managed not to fall again.

"I- I just need some time. I need some space. I can't- I can't do this. I can't do this,," she mumbled, refusing to meet his worried gaze. "I'm sorry. I"m so sorry. Just- just please let me go. I gotta go."

She continued mumbled as tears filled her eyes. She turned away from him, hobbling down the street and trying desperately to ignore the pain. Thankfully, Frankie stayed put, confusion and shock in his eyes as he watched his mate stagger away.

Train Tracks: Part 2

Description: Hybrid!Reader x Taehyung: As a hybrid you have no worth and your means of survival is digging through the trash, working odd jobs for those who are more kind-hearted, and–unfortunately–pick-pocketing. When you choose the wrong target, things take a strange turn as this obviously wealthy man enters your life.

Warnings: I think this part is clean, but let me know if it’s not.

Posted: 05/06/2019

Tags: Taehyung, Human Taehyung, Hybrid Reader

Fluffy with some angst: 3,368 words

A/N: I’m now officially only a year away from being 25. Birthdays are weird. Good, but weird. Anyway, here is the second part to the introduction, then once I finish both routes I’ll post them. I’m about a third of the way through one route, and then I’ll work on the other. I’m not sure if the routes will be the endings yet, though that is currently the plan.

When you woke up it was because the light was getting just bright enough that you could see easily, even in this part of the car. He was stirring as well, getting up and looking like he wanted to sleep for another four hours. He must have forgotten to check if you were awake as he started changing back into his suit. You averted your gaze once you realized that he was undressing. After he finished dressing he seemed to realize you were awake. “Oh, hey, were you warm enough last night?” He asked, coming to stand beside your bed. You looked up and nodded. “Were you?” He nodded, grinning. His mouth was like a rounded rectangle. “It’s a comfortable bed. Thanks for letting me use it. You stay there and rest your leg. I’ll get you some breakfast.” You almost protested, but he was already off with a spring in his step, so you got yourself propped up a bit, shivering at the slight chill in the air when the blankets shifted. Your leg was throbbing a little, but it was nothing you minded. He came back and was at your food shelves for a while, rummaging until he came over with a plate containing bread, an orange, and some slices of the sausage, as well as a glass of water. “Here. Now, I have to get back to town. Don’t work too hard today, remember Jungkook-ssi said to take it easy.” You nodded again. He nodded toward your leg. “Do you need help changing your bandage and cleaning the wound?” You shook your head. He nodded again, going over and grabbing the blankets from his bed and giving them to you. He climbed onto your bed to wrap the blankets around you and your little nest. He set the plate of food and the glass within your reach. “There. Now, be a good kitty and rest. Stay close to your home.” He pet your head and ears, surprising you with how easily it brought a purr to your throat, but bringing a grin to his face. You ducked away, startled by yourself. You just purred from getting pet by the man who terrified you for most of the day before. He let you go as he cooed. “I’ll see you later.” He got off your bed and then headed out. “Later?”

“Well, not today, because I’m going to have to deal with some business until late due to my early departure yesterday, but soon,” He said cheerfully from the door and then quickly left before you could protest, apparently knowing that you would from the grin you caught through the window before he was lost in the darkness of the tunnel. He didn’t show up the next day, or the next, which was fine because you weren’t really ready to face him again. He still scared you and you still weren’t sure what he wanted from you. You stayed near your home for the whole week that Jungkook said you needed to take it easy, then headed back into town. It was a bit of a fight getting past the lingerers and the malevolent, but you managed it with minimal new injuries, and hurried down back-streets and alleys to the place where Jungkook had treated you. You took a couple minutes to gather your courage again, then snuck up to the door and knocked. Jungkook answered moments later, and smiled. “Hey, come on in.” You entered as quickly as you could because there were people on the street and they hadn’t noticed you yet. He closed the door. “How does your leg feel?” “Better, thank you.” He nodded, but his gaze had already caught sight of the bruise forming on your arm. “Did you get attacked recently?” “Not the way you’re thinking,” You answered, following him into the living room. Taehyung was sitting in there on a laptop, and he looked up with a smile when you came in. “Hey. Sorry I couldn’t make it out there. I just escaped late last night.” “And he got lost when he did try to go see you,” Jungkook added, laughing as he said it. You looked at Taehyung in surprise. “How did you get lost?” He seemed embarrassed and held up his hand as he stuttered to try and reply. “He went out the South gate,” Jungkook laughed out. You shook your head slowly. “You should get a compass.” Taehyung grinned. “Would you like to go on an adventure with me after Jungkook finishes?” You blinked at him in surprise, then hesitantly nodded. “Sure.” He jumped up. “Yay!” You flinched slightly. Jungkook rinsed your leg wound, nodding. “Looks good. You must have really done well at keeping your weight off of this leg.” “Well, except when I climbed the apple trees.” You watched him pull the stitches, and then tested bending your leg for a moment. “Skin still feels a little tight, but that’ll get better, right?” He nodded. “Yeah, as the skin continues to heal it’ll get more flexible. It might scar a bit, but it looks great right now. Keep it clean and keep changing the bandages, but otherwise you should be good.” “Thank you.” He smiled at you. “My pleasure. Go ahead and walk with it before I bandage it.” You nodded, getting up and pacing a little before smiling at him. He nodded. “Alright, I’ll bandage it and then you and Taehyung can go on your…adventure.” He seemed just as in the dark about what the adventure was supposed to be. Taehyung was bouncing around, half-dancing as he waited for Jungkook to finish so the two of you could go on whatever adventure it was that he had planned. It was strange to watch him dancing and being goofy. He had this aura of regalia around him, demanding respect and awe. Until he grinned and started acting silly and then you wondered how you could be terrified of him while also being even more scared of him because how could one person give off such different vibes? Jungkook nudged him after a moment and whispered something just low enough that you couldn’t pick it up. Your ear flicked with irritation at how he seemed to know exactly how to not be heard by you, which was confusing because he had every right to speak privately. But the feeling of it being about you made you want to hear exactly what was said, especially since Taehyung seemed to calm down a bit more. Taehyung nodded, then approached you. “Ready?” You glanced at Jungkook, a little nervous, but you nodded. Taehyung grinned and bounced toward the door, holding it open for you. “I have a lot I want to show you.” You nodded again, following him as he led the way through town again. People’s heads turned, admiring the man ahead of you and then faces wrinkled with disgust at the sight of you behind him. Taehyung turned slightly, holding out his hand with a gentle smile. “So we don’t get separated.” You shrunk closer to him as you received a particularly hostile glare, taking his hand gratefully. You were struggling to keep up a bit since you still had a bit of a limp. His smile grew as he twined his fingers with you, and he had a sort of skip to his step. “It’s a great day, isn’t it?” “It’s…sunny. And warm,” You replied. You weren’t sure what constituted it being a great day to him. For you, it was getting a good odd job that allowed you to get some sort of essential supply and not getting hurt. He didn’t have such worries, so the only thing you could assume was that the weather was what constituted it being a good day. “It is! And you got your stitches out and we’re going to have fun!” He led you into the most expensive neighborhood in town, which made you feel like you committed a crime for existing. The houses seemed to glow, pristine in the light of the sun. Glass windows and marble fixtures, gardens of mostly useless but beautiful flowers. He pulled you up to the biggest, most amazing and pristine looking house in the neighborhood. He went right in while you just about panicked. The house was immaculately clean, from the marble floors to the white ceiling. It was milky white—so white and pure that it had a blue tinge to it. You were a mud puddle in this world of cleanliness. He kept pulling you through the house, and into a room full of light and windows with potted plants and a few chairs. He brought you over to one of the chairs and gestured for you to sit down. You looked at the chair, then at him. “Um, I don’t want to get your furniture dirty.” He looked at you, frowning slightly, then nodded. “You’re right, we should fix that first.” He looked thoughtful for a while, then waved for you to follow him. You were nervous, but you followed upstairs and into a room that you suddenly realized was his bedroom. Your heart started racing and panic started filling you. He went to the closet and pulled out some different clothes, holding them up to you, then shaking his head and sticking it back. He finally settled on a pair of silky-looking pants, a shirt of similar-looking material in a soft blue, and some sort of silky coat. “Try these. They’ll be big on you, but there’s a drawstring on the pants. The robe should help you stay warmer in here. You can change in here. I’ll wait in the hallway so you don’t get lost. Did you want to bathe?” You blinked at him for a good two minutes, not able to form words. “Let’s do that then, I’ll run a bath for you and you can get all clean and relax and I’ll set up and can you find your way back to that room?” You nodded slowly. He smiled and nodded firmly in return, striding to another door and heading inside. You heard water rushing from a faucet soon after and inched after him, checking to see if you were leaving a trail of dirt since you felt like you were. His bathroom was unlike any you had ever seen before, it was bigger than the house you remembered living in as a kit. He was adding something to the water, and soon the smell of vanilla and honey seemed to waft from the water. He set a towel on a chair next to the bathtub, then put some bottles next to the tub. “This one is shampoo, this one is conditioner. This is to wash the skin. You can use this lotion after your bath to help your skin be soft. Use this one for your face, and this one should be fur friendly. I put the clothes on the counter there and you can put your clothes wherever. Take your time.” He showed you how to adjust the temperature of the water, then exited. You felt your tail flicking with curiosity, your body and mind relaxing slightly after he left. The water smelled amazing. You entered the tub after undressing, nose wrinkling at the feeling of your fur getting wet, but eventually relaxing into the hot water. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a bath. You somehow managed to remember everything he had instructed as far as the bottles went, slowly going through everything he had pointed out. It felt amazing, though washing your hair was difficult because of your ears. But you managed to wash ever millimeter of your body, and exited the bath feeling a little sleepy. You dried off and put on the clothes that he had set out for you. They were huge on you, the shirt was almost to your knees and you had to roll the pants up. You were grateful for the silky coat since it did help you retain some warmth. You used the towel to dry your hair and your tail, then slipped out of the bathroom, looking around a moment before following the scent trail back to that room of light and plants. He was sitting on the floor playing with a small dog, but he looked up at you and grinned. “You didn’t give him his treat,” You said. He looked confused. You gestured to the dog. “He wants his treat that you’re supposed to give him when he’s a good boy.” He looked at the dog and then gave it a treat. “You can understand him?” “I told you I could communicate with animals on the first day we met. You said I was ‘in tune’.” He nodded. “But being told and seeing it happen is something else entirely. What else does he say?” “To get out of his home because no cats allowed.” Taehyung grabbed the dog. “Don’t be mean.” He waved you over. You sat on the floor beside him, tail wrapping around your legs. He was looking you over, smiling. “That’s a good color on you. But you should dry your hair. You might catch a cold.” His smile faded and he set the dog aside, standing up and leaving. “I’ll be right back.” You looked after him in confusion. He came back with a strange-looking device that he plugged in. “May I?” You nodded hesitantly, jumping slightly when he turned it on. He showed you that it was blowing out hot air, then started blowing it at your hair, using a brush and giving you an overall feeling of being pet. You’d missed that feeling. When he turned the device off your hair felt soft and fluffy. He chuckled. “You’ve got quite a loud purr for such a small person.” You choked and coughed. He kept stroking your hair. “You want your tail dried?” You swallowed, then nodded eagerly. It was warm and your tail would be so soft after, like your hair. He turned it on a quieter setting, carefully drying your tail. He had a quiet smile on his face as he worked and you smiled a bit when he couldn’t resist brushing the tip of your tail over his face with a grin. “So fluffy.” You looked down shyly. He was suddenly right next to you, breathing in deeply. “Mmm, I like that smell. Honey and vanilla. It’s a good smell. Do you like it? I thought it would be better than something flowery.” You nodded. “It’s very nice, sir.” “Taehyung.” “It’s very nice, Taehyung.” You closed your eyes as he started petting you again. It’d been an age since you had been properly pet and it was such a comfortable feeling. You allowed yourself to purr, leaning into his touch. His hand lightly touched your waist, guiding you into a gently embrace where he continued to pet you and comfort you. Warmth radiated from him. You were surprised with yourself for acting like this. But you also couldn’t blame yourself. Dogs had a good sense for people and this dog adored Taehyung, so maybe he wasn’t a bad person. And he always seemed to be making sure you were okay. That was much different. That was like— You shivered and curled into Taehyung. He hummed, then managed to reach over and grab a blanket from one of the chairs, wrapping it around you. “You get cold easily, don’t you, y/n?” You nodded after a moment of sleepily processing his question. “Can I try and paint you?” You looked at him in both surprise and confusion. “Paint me?” “Yeah,” He pointed toward an easel. That made more sense than him putting paint on you right after having you bathe. “Do I need to be awake?” “Nah, you sleep cutely. And it probably won’t actually look like you, but I’m going to try. You just get comfortable on this couch, warm and snuggly, and I’ll paint.” This was the adventure he wanted to go on? Something told you that he had changed his mind somewhere along the line and that you were on an unplanned ride through whatever he decided to do. You let him help you onto the couch, purring softly as he tucked you in blankets and pillows, adjusting your position the way he wanted for painting. Your eyes were closed before he even left you, drifting into sleep in the comfort of his really soft couch. He woke you gently a while later as he picked you up. “It’s okay. I’m just putting you in a bed so you can rest easier.” “Hmm?” “Shh, just sleep. It’s okay. You’re safe.” His deep voice lulled you, reminding you so much of the friend you missed. “I’m not,” You murmured, gripping your tail to comfort yourself. “Your friend, what was his name?” You nudged into his neck, taking a deep breath. “The one that died, what was his name?” “Chanyeol,” You whispered, just the sound of his name enough to make you tear up. “I miss him.” He lay you on a cloud and wrapped you in sunshine. “I know, kitten. He watches over you, I’m sure. Now rest. I’ll guard your dreams.” You had strange dreams, but they were good. You were safe and happy. And warm. So wonderfully warm that it would be a crime not to purr. So you purred. You heard a soft chuckle and felt someone pet you. You curled into the petting, nudging the hand to get more when they paused. “Cutie. Come on, I have some breakfast waiting for both of us.” You blinked awake and saw the half-asleep face of Taehyung. He smiled at you. “Morning.” “Good morning.” “Sleep well?” You nodded, unable to resist the stretch that you felt you needed. Your back cracked in about five different places and you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Then worry hit you. It was another day lost for winter preparations. “Whoa, you okay?” You scrambled to your feet, struggling due to the silky fabrics against silky sheets. “I lost a whole day.” “What do you mean?” “I’m already behind on my preparations, and I’ve lost a whole day. I need to…” You didn’t even know where to begin. Clothes. You should begin with changing back into your own clothes. You looked around frantically, then hurried toward the door. “Too much to do, too little time, lost so much time—” “Hey,” He called, catching up to you and grabbing your arm. “Calm down. It’s going to be okay. I’ll help you.” You met his eyes. “You’re not alone. You should stay with me. You’ll be safe and warm, and well-fed.” He held your gaze. You shook your head. “No.” He looked away, worry clear on his face. “But…what if you…have you been feeling…how long until you know if you’re pregnant or not?” You froze, feeling like you were choking. “Because…if you…if you are…I don’t think I would be able to stop worrying about you. And if something happened to you…” He took your arm in both hands. You took a deep breath, then looked up at him again. “If…if I am…I’ll stay here. If I’m not…then I won’t.” He shifted, but nodded. “Alright. But I’m still giving you food so you don’t get hungry. And you’re taking some new blankets. And I’m bringing a friend out to help get your home insulated for winter.” You opened your mouth to protest. “No, I won’t let you fight me on that. I’m doing it, and you’re accepting it. That’s the only way I’ll let you stay out there if you aren’t pregnant. So, I’ll hire you. You can help me train service dogs.” “Service dogs?” You tilted your head. He nodded. “For blind people, or people with diseases. I train one or two dogs at a time. With your help, I can train them easier. Do we have a deal?” You took a deep breath and lifted your chin. “Deal.” He smiled. “Alright. Now, let’s go have breakfast.” You took his hand without hesitation. “Okay.”

Masterlist. ~ Part 1. ~ Route 1: Not Pregnant ~ Route 2: Pregnant

Tagging: @jiminslye

sunny day pt. 3 ~ park jimin

pairing: hybrid!jimin x reader

rating: sfw

word count: 4.3k

summary: you’re a veterinary student specializing in hybrid care when you get a call in the middle of the night that a feral hybrid has broken into the clinic where you work.

a/n: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! Thank you for the kind messages while waiting for pt 3, I really appreciate all you have to say. I’m already about halfway done with pt 4 so hopefully that will be posted soon as well!

part 01 02 03 04 05 epilogue

You woke up that morning with a headache and a serious crick in your neck. When you checked your phone, you had a missed call. Seventeen of them. From Namjoon.

Voicemail, 9:07am: (Y/N), I just got done talking with Jungkook and he told me about last night. You better not be ignoring me. Call me back as soon as you get this.

Voicemail, 9:34am: You better not be dead either. As in like, murdered. By the actual stranger you let into your apartment. Because that’s what happens to people who do stupid shit like that—they get fucking murdered.

Voicemail, 10:58am: The longer you take to call me back, the more worried I get. I am this close to sending Taehyung over to check on you. Call me back.

Voicemail, 12:11pm: (Y/N). If you don’t call me back by the end of my lunch break I’m calling hybrid control, the police, and your family, I swear to God I will.

You checked the time in a panic, because you knew Namjoon’s lunch break ended at one and even then, there was the chance he’d be called away early. It was only twelve-thirty and you called back immediately. The phone rang for a split second before he answered.

“(Y/N),” he said, rather calmly, almost casual. “What the fuck.”

You bit your lip. “I can explain.”

“Then start explaining,” Namjoon hissed. His voice was edging on feline, which meant he was seriously pissed—Namjoon liked to present himself as human as possible at any given moment and did not often slip. “And give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drive to your apartment and smack you in the head.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I should have called you. But whenever Jungkook told me a hybrid broke in and he didn’t want to call you, I was so preoccupied with helping Jimin—,” you cut yourself off and sighed into the phone. “I didn’t think.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he replied, and you realized then that Namjoon sounded much more than angry; he sounded concerned. “I’m your employer. I deserve to know about everything happening in my clinic.”

You transferred your phone from one hand to the other, rolling your neck. “Jungkook was too nervous to call you.”

“And I’ve already yelled at him. (Y/N), what if something bad had happened last night? What if one of you had been hurt? You’re under my care when you’re in my facility, and I’m responsible for you. I should have known. You should have called me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, a kernel of guilt lodged in your throat.

Namjoon waited a long moment to reply, until he huffed, “The fact that you didn’t call me isn’t the only reason I’m angry. I’m angry because you’re an idiot.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear. “Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot,” he repeated. “What the hell were you thinking, letting a stranger into your apartment? What if he’s a weirdo? What if he’s a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer. And he’s not a weirdo, either. I basically had to beg him to come here. You should be questioning his judgement, not mine.”

“I’m not questioning your judgement,” he was quick to say. “I’m just saying—,”

You interrupted him before he could continue. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course,” he replied, immediately and without hesitation.

“Then trust me to know what I’m doing.”

Namjoon laughed once, amused and annoyed. You could tell he wanted to protest but thought better of it; he was naturally argumentative, but often took the higher road to avoid confrontation. Changing the subject, he asked, “How is he?”

You sat up, holding in a pained groan. Glancing at the closed bedroom door you replied, “I treated him the best I could, but I didn’t have much equipment, and he wouldn’t give me access to everything.”

“Describe his injuries,” Namjoon requested, voice professional. Finally—you were much better at handling professional than angry and concerned.

“He has lacerations across his back caused by gravel. Last night I picked the rocks out of his skin and cleaned everything I could. He has a six-inch gash on his arm, but it shouldn’t need stitches. His left ankle is my biggest concern. I think it might be broken, but he won’t consent to an x-ray.”

You took a moment to inhale, sheepishly. “I, uh, borrowed a first-aid kit out of the storeroom, along with some other supplies.”

“Oh,” Namjoon replied, flatly. “Was that you? I’d assumed the hybrid had broken in there too.”

You huffed through your nose. “No, he only broke into your office. I cleaned it before we left, by the way. I couldn’t fix the door but I swept up the glass and blood.”

Mentioning his office seemed to bring Namjoon’s annoyance to the forefront of his mind. “God, it’s going to take forever for me to re-scent it. When I walked in, I thought I was going to drop dead.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you grinned. “You can take the cost of the broken door out of my paycheck, if you want. Consider it an apology.”

“I would never do that. Bring Jimin in and let me evaluate him, and we’ll call it even. I really want to make sure his ankle isn’t broken.”

You got off the couch and started to move toward the kitchen, leaning against the wall for support. Your thumb rubbed a restless rhythm across the edge of your phone. “I’ll talk to him once he wakes up. He seemed really reluctant last night, I don’t know if he’ll agree to it.”

“Oh, fuck that, get him in here. It’s the least he could do after wrecking my office.”

“I’ll keep that argument in mind,” you laughed. “What time would be best?”

“Anytime in the afternoon.”

After you and Namjoon hung up, you tossed your phone on the kitchen counter and ran a hand across your forehead, trying to suppress your growing headache.

“It’s not broken.”

You jumped and saw Jimin standing in the middle of the hallway, awkwardly. He was standing too rigid not to be in pain, but seemed to be trying very, very hard to put weight on his leg, like he was trying to prove it was fine.

“It’s not a break I’m worried about,” you said, corralling him onto the couch. He went nervously, sitting down and staring at you as you elevated his leg. “I’m more worried that it’s fractured.”

“Wouldn’t that be better?”

“No,” you replied, terse. You went in the kitchen to get him another bag of ice, but yelled back into the living room, “A break has a better chance of healing by itself because all the bone has to do is fuse back together. But you know what a fracture implies?”

You returned and set a cloth over his ankle, and then the ice bag, being as gentle as you could. “A crack. A fissure. Fragmentation.” When you looked up he was wincing, but his ears were turned toward you in attention. “If your bone is fractured, then those fragments are freelancing. They won’t heal properly by themselves and they’ll only make the fracture worse—or even worse than that, you’ll get an infection.”

“An infection?”

Nodding, you sat on the ground next to the couch. “I don’t know how much you heard, but that was my boss on the phone. He really wants you to come back to the clinic for an official checkup.” Immediately Jimin’s lip curled, but you pressed on. “I know it’s not something you’re completely comfortable with, but you’ll be completely in control—we’ll stop whenever you want.”

Jimin looked away, conflicted, so you decided to continue, “And Namjoon said you owe him for breaking into his office.”

He sputtered. “That was an accident. And I didn’t even steal anything—,”

“Doesn’t matter,” you interrupted with a laugh. “You trashed the place. Have some respect and at least let the poor man checkup on you.”

He went quiet, gnawing on his bottom lip. “If I go, what will happen afterward?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, cocking your head.

“If I go back to the clinic,” Jimin explained. “And get checked up, fixed up, and cleared. What will happen to me after that?”

You took a moment to consider the question carefully, because you knew he wouldn’t ask unless he was afraid of the answer. “Preferably,” you started, “we get in contact with the shelter—,”

Jimin hissed and recoiled before you could finish. You held up your hand to placate him, but the abject resentment and fear on his face made your stomach twist. “But that’s not the only option.”

“I’m not going to a shelter,” he declared, voice hard.

“We won’t make you,” you promised. “We’re just a clinic, Jimin. It’s not our job to hold you hostage.”

He narrowed his eyes, because he could hear the unsaid but at the end of your sentence. “Then what’s the problem?”

You rested a comforting hand over his. It didn’t escape you last night that he seemed to gain confidence from your soothing touch. “You’re a predatory hybrid. Even though we’re not obligated to call hybrid control to report you, it’ll look bad on the clinic if we allow a wayward predatory hybrid back on the street.”

“Then I’ll leave now,” he replied, simply. “That way you won’t have to worry—,”

“Jimin,” you interrupted, letting a bit of hardness soak into your tone. “Do I strike you as someone who values reputation over responsibility? I couldn’t care less about the opinion people have of our clinic—as long as I know we’re providing the best care we can to people who need it, I’m satisfied.”

He looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I was trying to say.”

You looked away from him, breathing deeply through your nose. “I know people have been unkind to you in the past. And I’m sorry.” Curling your fingers around his own, your stroked your thumb up and down the side of his hand and continued. “Sometimes I feel so useless. I read online about the way people treat you, I see it on television, I treat it in the clinic. I do the best that I can, but at the end of the day, the only way I can help is after the damage is already done.”

The injustice of it sat unregularly in your chest, constricting your throat until you were sure it would burst. No one deserved to be treated like an animal. You could feel Jimin staring at you and you let him, knowing he could smell your anger, your insecurity, the genuineness of what you were saying. It rolled off your tongue like syrup, cloying and saccharine.

“I wish I was preventative. I wish I could stop the suffering before it started. But I’m not even a doctor, there’s so much I can’t do.” You turned back to him, snagging his gaze and keeping it. “So whenever there’s something I can do, I make sure to do it.”

Come back with me, you didn’t say, but it was hung between you. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me.

“I’ll go back to the clinic,” Jimin said with a small voice. “But you have to promise they won’t try to send me to a shelter.”

You nodded and held out your pinky finger. “I promise.”

Jimin stared at your finger before letting out a hollow laugh, hooking his pinky with your own and shaking. Warmth passed between the two of you, almost electric enough to make you shiver. If you had your way, nothing bad would happen to Jimin ever again.

~~~

Kim Namjoon was not particularly threatening.

He was too gangly, too clumsy—although he was often serious, something about him always seemed just as willing to be goofy as he was to be thoughtful. But standing in front of you now, tail whipping back and forth as you helped Jimin out of the passenger seat, you had to admit he had quite a presence.

“The next time you park like that,” he noted, “I’m giving you a ticket.”

“Bite me,” you replied, good-naturedly.

Jimin was tense next to you, and you wished Namjoon would tone it down. You turned to shoot him a pointed look, but your gaze slid off him and onto another head peaking from behind the sliding glass doors marking the entrance of the clinic. A very dark, very familiar head.

“What is Taehyung doing here?” you muttered under your breath. Namjoon and Jimin heard you, but you hoped Taehyung didn’t. You liked the guy, you really did, but now just wasn’t the time.

Namjoon had the decency to wince. “Didn’t you listen to my voicemail? I invited him.”

“Taehyung is a dog hybrid. When’s the last time you invited a dog hybrid anywhere?”

“Ten minutes ago, after I called him in case we needed to break into your apartment to retrieve your corpse.”

Jimin went rigid next to you, and you shot Namjoon another look. “Taehyung’s just going to make him nervous.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Taehyung is a harmless puppy.”

Taehyung was actually a well-trained police hybrid that could kick any of their asses, if he wanted. They were simply lucky he was laid back. Knowing you’d seen him, Taehyung emerged from the clinic, and Jimin’s tail went stiff with the implication—it was two on one, Jimin against Namjoon and Taehyung, and if a fight broke out, Jimin would be at the disadvantage.

Even though a fight was improbable, you were certain Jimin’s instincts were telling him to run while he still could.

“Officer Kim,” Taehyung introduced, and you wanted to pull your hair out. You’d known Taehyung since you were a freshman and had never heard him introduce himself as Officer Kim in your life.

Jimin stared at his feet and didn’t reply. The silence that followed was tense, and you found yourself stroking soothingly across the nape of Jimin’s neck. Namjoon eyed the gesture warily.

“Come inside,” he said. “Let me check you out.”

You walked straight passed Taehyung and he pouted, reaching for your hand. You smacked him away. It was customary for you to give him a hug, but you didn’t want his scent over you when you were trying to comfort Jimin.

“What breed are you?” Namjoon asked, casual. He was verbose, good at small talk, and had a dimpled smile that tended to put people at ease. Even without a number advantage, you could feel Jimin begin to relax when you walked into the clinic and found the lobby empty.

“Jaguar,” he replied. You gave yourself a mental high-five—you’d totally called it.

You needed to speak to Namjoon before he mentioned anything about the shelter to Jimin. It was only customary to call Jin’s shelter whenever they got a new patient that could be in need of a home. Jin always made sure the people in his care had the resources they needed, which was why he was the only shelter Namjoon chose to do business with.

He led the three of you to an empty examination room, carefully unscented and sterilized. Taehyung took a seat by the door and you hovered near him, helping Jimin sit on the examination table. Namjoon donned a lab coat and picked up a clipboard, prepared to start Jimin’s chart.

“(Y/N) told me you didn’t want to get x-rayed,” Namjoon began. You liked seeing him this way—coat on, glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, fingering absent-mindedly through paper. This was more than just Kim Namjoon, close friend and the world’s best boss; this was Dr. Kim, one of the most noteworthy hybrid specialists in the country. “I know the machine can be intimidating, but we need to see if anything is broken.”

“I’ll stay in the room the whole time,” you assured him, until finally he nodded his head. Once the x-ray was finished, Namjoon left the room to consult the radiologist. Jimin was bouncing nervously in his seat, lip tugged between his teeth, and you wanted to reach out to him. You’d grown protective of him in a way you couldn’t describe, in a way that surpassed any feeling you’d ever had toward a patient, and if you were being honest—it scared you.

Namjoon returned, and he checked Jimin’s bandaging while Jimin allowed him, passively. Namjoon commented on your good work. He decided to stitch the cut on Jimin’s arm closed to avoid infection. The entire examination happened in silence, with Jimin looking at the ground, you staring at Jimin, and Namjoon immersing himself so thoroughly in his work, he pretended not to notice any of it. Taehyung watched in amusement.

“So,” he smiled, seemingly impervious to the awkward silence. “Ever broken the law?”

You started to massage your forehead.

“Um,” Jimin began. “Not on purpose.”

Taehyung’s grin was wolfish. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook was the one who delivered the x-ray scan. He grinned at you sheepishly when he walked in, almost in apology for getting you in trouble. He greeted Taehyung enthusiastically, but turned shy again when he noticed Jimin.

“Feeling better?” he asked, handing Namjoon the folder. “You had me freaked out last night.”

Jimin’s face flushed red. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

Jungkook assured him it was no problem and went back to work while Namjoon displayed the scan, pointing to a tiny fissure in Jimin’s talus.

“Good news,” Namjoon said. “It’s only a hairline fracture. For a hybrid, it should only take a month to heal, and you won’t need a cast. Just keep it iced and elevated, and no running or strenuous activity.” He eyed Jimin over the bridge of his glasses. “That’s an order.”

Jimin almost went slack with relief. Deciding now was the best time to talk to Namjoon before he brought anything up in front of Jimin, you asked, “Namjoon, can I speak to you and Taehyung outside for a moment?”

If Namjoon was surprised, he didn’t show it. You opened the door and nodded for him to go first, and then Taehyung, allowing Jimin a quiet moment to collect himself before they went any further. You gave him a reassuring look and closed the door behind you.

You walked them to the west wing, hopefully far enough where you wouldn’t be overheard. Being surrounded by such advanced hearing every day was exhausting. You never got privacy. Once the three of you were alone, Taehyung lunged and enveloped you in a bear hug that was impossible to escape.

He nuzzled your cheek while you groaned. “God, Tae, I don’t want your scent on me right now! I still love you, but get off.”

“But I missed you,” he whined. You shoved him off and he let you, which was the only way you could shove him in the first place; he was ridiculously stronger than you. He fluttered his eyelashes at you while you faked a scowl.

“I’m still mad you’re here,” you huffed, turning to Namjoon. “Jimin’s not a criminal, and yet you invited Taehyung, a trained police hybrid, to act like some type of ridiculous body guard—,”

Namjoon flicked his wrist in dismissal. “Taehyung may be trained, but he’s just a German Shepard breed. Jimin is a jaguar hybrid. A predatory cat will give even the most trained K-9 a run for their money.”

“I resent that,” Taehyung injected. “Not that you asked, but know that I do.”

You let out a great sigh and grumbled, “I really can’t believe you invited him.

“He’s off-duty. And it’s not like he’s going to report him,” Namjoon snorted. “He’s basically here for fun.”

Shaking your head fondly, you looked away. It made you feel a thousand times lighter, knowing Jimin’s ankle wasn’t broken, knowing nothing serious was wrong. You turned to Namjoon with shy, hopeful eyes. “Is he really okay?”

“He’s really okay. You did everything perfectly,” he assured you with a laugh. Namjoon patted your shoulder. “But he’s going to need a lot more healing after this, and I don’t just mean physically. I’m going to call Jin and see if he has enough room in the shelter for a possible hard case.”

You winced. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed.

You pulled your bottom lip through your teeth. “I want Jimin to come back with me.”

Namjoon cracked a half-smile, but then realized you were serious. “(Y/N), you know that’s a terrible idea.”

“If Jimin were a murderer he would have killed me last night—,”

“It’s more than just that!” Namjoon interrupted. “Jimin’s obviously experienced emotional trauma. He should be in a place that has the resources to provide for him, and no offense, but you’re not a therapist. Just because you’re going to be a doctor one day doesn’t mean you’re equipped to handle him.”

Giving Taehyung a nervous look, you admitted, “I think he’s had bad experiences before. Whenever I brought the shelter up earlier this afternoon, he was petrified. He wouldn’t come here until I promised we wouldn’t take him there.”

Namjoon and Taehyung exchanged a dark look. They knew better than you that not every shelter was hybrid-friendly. “We can keep him at the clinic.”

“And waste money, time, and resources on a patient who only has a hairline fracture? You know that’s not practical. And if we let him go, he’ll only be a stray again.”

“I can help him apply for citizenship,” Namjoon said. “That’s what I did with Hoseok.”

“Hoseok was able to apply for citizenship because Yoongi sponsored him, and even then, Yoongi had to own him for over a year.”

That was how it worked in your society; every hybrid was a pet until they could obtain citizenship, but to do that, they needed a human sponsor to adopt them for a period of time, in order to assess if they were fit for society. Finding a human sponsor was the most difficult thing in the world, because most people weren’t interested in doing it in the first place, and the people who did were severely limited due to government intervention and quota restrictions.

You gazed at Namjoon triumphantly while he avoided your look, staring off into the distance. Seeing his hopeless expression made your heart soften, and you reached out to pat his shoulder. “I know you’re worried. If I need help, trust me, Namjoon—you’re the first person I’ll call.”

You stared up at him with big, fluttering eyes, and in the background, you could hear Taehyung chuckling as Namjoon slowly but surely gave in to your hopeful gaze. “God, I hate you sometimes. Fine. Fine! I’ll get his paperwork for you to sign and fill out.

“I still have to ask him, you know. He could say no.”

It made you incredibly nervous, and you were sure they could smell it. What if the connection you felt with Jimin was one-sided? You couldn’t live with the thought of him back on the street, fighting just to survive, when you had an empty home and an open heart just waiting for him.

Taehyung shook his head. “He won’t.”

“How do you know?” you asked, turning to stare at him.

“It’s a hybrid thing,” he shrugged. “We’re not solitary creatures. Even the most introverted need to be around people, and it’s hard being a stray and not having that communal connection.”

Taehyung’s comment was reassuring, but you were still insecure. Namjoon and him stayed behind to start collecting Jimin’s paperwork while you went back to the room where he was waiting. Jimin perked up when you came back inside, ears turning in attention.

“Hey,” you greeted, grinning. Jimin grinned back, and it made your chest tighten. “Everything is checking out perfectly, treatment should be short and sweet. Namjoon’s getting your release paperwork now.”

Jimin sighed in relief. You could tell the clinic made him nervous, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Thank you.”

You nodded and bit your lip. “I have a request, though.”

His tail flicked, nervous. “Yeah?”

“I want you to come back home with me,” you said, and his eyes widened, tail freezing midair. “I know it’s sudden, but you still have a month of healing to do. I want to help you until you’re fully healed, and then I want to help you get your citizenship, if you’re interested.”

“Citizenship?” Jimin asked, surprised.

You nodded your head toward the closed door. “Namjoon got his citizenship in just over a year, and he’s helped countless people get their own. In order to start the process, you need a sponsor, and your sponsor has to adopt you for a year in order to vouch for you. I want to do that.”

He stared at you, flatly. “You want to adopt me?”

“I want to be your sponsor,” you corrected. “And after a year we’ll apply for your citizenship and the adoption will be null.”

Jimin looked away again, indecision written all over his face. You took his hand in your own in reassurance. “Take as much time as you need to think about it. I’m going to step outside with Namjoon to give you time—,”

“No!” he interrupted, and then blushed. “I mean, you don’t have to leave. I’ll do it.” He leaned back a bit and smiled faintly, teasingly, and held out jazz hands. “Adopt me.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Really? Really?” you asked, trying to conceal your growing excitement. Jimin nodded again and you had to suppress an honest to God squeal. “Yes! Oh, this is great—this is great. Okay, okay, okay. Let me talk to Namjoon, we’ll call Jin and set up the paperwork—oh! And we’ll get your treatment sorted out. I’ll totally be able to take care of you at home, but there’s a lot I need to buy. Not like, medical stuff, but like, hybrid stuff. Because I’m adopting a hybrid. Wow, okay. I should call my mom or something. I need to get clothes and shoes and everything else, I need to make a list, but first your ankle—,”

Jimin grinned and let you drone on, talking mostly to yourself. For the first time in a long time, he looked forward to what the future had to offer. 

Some Blood And Some Doctors

Fandoms: Supernatural and Grey’s Anatomy

Pairing: Brother!Dean x Sibling!Kid!Reader x Brother!Sam

Warnings: Cursing, References to Child Abuse, Crossover with Grey’s Anatomy

*****

It was a simple ghost hunt. A simple ghost hunt that ended in an explosion.

As the seating arrangement always was with you guys, Sam and Dean were up front and you were in the back. They were arguing over music.

“Dean, we’re always listening to classic rock. I’m just saying, we could use a change everyone in a while!”

Your oldest brother rolled his eyes. “And I’m saying the driver picks the music, and the shotgun--”

“The shotgun shuts his cake-hole,” Sam finished mockingly. “Oh my God. Y/n, what do you thi--” He turned back to look at you, “Y/n? Y/n, what the hell?!”

Dean glanced back, too. “Son of a bitch,” he gasped, suddenly terrified.

Sam climbed over the seats to get to you once he realized you were bleeding from the stomach. Glass had hit you in the explosion. You hadn’t noticed because of the adrenaline.

“What are we going to do Dean?” Sam was scared.

Dean was dead focused on the road. “We’ll get them to a hospital. It’ll be fine, Sammy...It’ll be fine.” He whispered the last part to himself.

Within twenty minutes, the three of you were bursting through hospital doors. You were in Sam’s arms.

“We need some help over here!” Dean yelled, on the brink of panic.

The doctors took you away, and your brothers weren’t allowed to come with you. You had lost consciousness a while before.

Two hours passed, and the boys hadn’t heard anything from your doctors.

“Dammit Dean. What are we going to do this time?”

The eldest Winchester didn’t respond.

“I mean, did you see their stomach? What are we going to do if they--” Sam was clearly in shock.

Dean interrupted him, “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever that. I will break your nose if you ever say something like that again.”

Sam put his head in his hands.

“Excuse me? Are you Dean and Sam Winchester?” A doctor in bloodied scrubs approached the men.

The boys jumped up. They replied at the same time.

“Yes,” Dean croaked.

Sam uttered, “Yeah, that’s us.”

“My name is Dr. Meredith Grey,” the young woman introduced, “I assisted on Y/n’s surgery. They are going to be fine.”

Relief flew through the boys.

Dr. Grey continued, “We got all the glass out, but the area is going to be sore for the next few weeks.”

Sam and Dean nodded.

“Y/n has stitches across her stomach, and they are going to have to be careful as they’re healing.”

Sam spoke first, “Thank you.”

“When can we see them?” Dean questioned gruffly.

The middle sibling began to scold his brother, “Dean--”

“No, it’s fine,” Meredith smiled, “They’re in Room 221.”

Dean was off already. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about him,” Sam stayed behind to apologize. “Thank you, really. We thought Y/n was gone for real this time.”

The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “ ‘This time’?”

“Oh...uh...” Sam blanched. “Anyway, I should go check on them. Thanks again.” He left the confused Grey behind.

You woke up feeling like you got hit by a bus. From what you remembered, you’d be in about the same amount of pain if you were hit by a bus. You found your brothers weren’t in the hospital room with you. In their place was a male doctor.

“Hey. I’m Alex. I helped on your surgery.”

With your throat dry, you rasped out a “Hello” back.

Alex gave you a drink of water. “So, I heard you came in with your older brothers.”

You nodded.

“Your history says that this isn’t the first time you’ve been in a hospital. You want to tell me about those other times?”

Sighing, you tried to figure out what to say. You knew Alex wasn’t trying to sound as official as he was, but you still predicted what he was attempting to get at. “Believe me,” you almost laughed, “it’s not like that.”

“Like what, Y/n?” Alex asked, still trying to get the conversation to go somewhere.

You rolled your eyes. “Listen Doctor--” you read his name tag “--Karev. There’s no way that your going to buy this in any sense. I know I’m just a kid--,”

“You’re not just a kid--”

“--but I’m just going to tell you how I really got here.”

Sam and Dean arrived about five minutes later.

“Oh, hey guys.” You had just finished your explanation to Dr. Karev. You greeted the boys, then turned back to the doctor. “So, Alex. I’m good to go, right?”

The man nodded profusely. Alex was as white as a sheet. He excused himself.

“And Alex?” You called out nonchalantly before the doctor left the room. “Don’t tell anyone what I just told you.”

Again, he nodded as if his life depended on it. Alex glanced wildly between you and your brothers, then he turned and and exited.

“What was that all about?” Dean asked.

Chuckling, and happy to see your brothers again, you answered only a little weakly, “That doctor is going to cover for us. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

*****

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Supernatural over on my page, along with fics on other fandoms. You should go check it out. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I take requests for one-shots, multi-chapter fics, headcannons, and preferences. No smut, please. I write for a variety of fandoms, and if you’re wondering if I write for a specific fandom, please ask me. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you. <3

The Journey of a Soul Chapter One

I spent some time editing as a way to calm myself a bit between the wake and the funeral, and I was writing while waiting for my connecting flight, so now I think this is finally ready to post. I introduced Salshira as a concept a while back but I was very slow getting substantial content written for her due to a lot of reasons but mostly my need to write commissions instead of my own work because I’m just that poor. I couldn’t focus on commissions if my life depended on it during this whole trip, so here’s the official introduction of Salshira’s story. Please enjoy!

~3,100 words, under the cut

Read on AO3

The night felt alive, more so than usual. It was a good night for a walk, despite the humidity. A full moon hung heavy in the sky and she was sure all the crazies were out to play. She wasn't one of them, hadn't been since before she was of legal age. But who had to know that she'd gotten it all out of her system before she was supposed to? It didn't matter. She walked into the forest, if it could be called that, that bordered the apartment complex she called home. Well, for the past two years, at least. Maybe for one more, but that itch was coming back.

The night was dark, darker there because there weren't any street lights of any kind, but she knew these paths, had walked them in day and night both. This forest was no stranger to her and it welcomed her into its embrace as she contemplated where she might move next.

It always happened the same way, her wanderlust. She'd be on her way home from work and find herself procrastinating. Stopping at shops or for a snack or just to walk around so she wouldn't have to go home yet. Driving in her car, she'd start to get the urge whenever she saw a highway sign for somewhere far away to just get on that road and drive and drive until she couldn't drive anymore and see where she ended up. But that wasn't a practical way to move to from place so she never gave in to those urges. But that was how she knew when it was time to move again.

Maybe someday she would go somewhere and never get that urge again, but somehow she sort of doubted it.

She sighed heavily and leaned against her favorite tree, an ancient and gnarled willow that had done her many favors. She patted the bark affectionately and loosely braided a few dangling branches near her for something to do with her hands.

“What do you think, is it time to leave the country?” she asked the tree, smiling up at the branches. “I'm thinking Asia. What do you think about Asia?” A breeze blew gently past and she closed her eyes and smiled, the scent of summer much nicer in the presence of her friend. “Europe, then? I've been thinking about Finland. But I'm not sure I'm crazy about being so cold.”

This time instead of a breeze a sudden gale of wind almost knocked her off her feet. She gasped and choked on the sheer force of air, stumbling to catch herself before she fell. That was not normal and she gazed around in fright as the willow branches whipped at her face. She'd never see anything until she got out from under the tree. She almost suspected a helicopter maybe as she struggled through the tangled mass of branches, except that she didn't hear it and no way would there be one this close to her. She was still puzzling through what could be happening when she finally managed to fight her way out of the tree and found herself falling.

“Fuck! Fucking shit fuck fuck fuck!” she shouted on the way down, until it occurred to her that she was going to die if she managed to get out that many expletives without touching anything solid. Wind rushed past her ears and she started to shriek. None of this existed where she'd been standing. There was no cliff she could have fallen off in the middle of the city. There was no possible way that this could be happening. Yet she was shrieking as she fell and fell and fell and she was definitely going to die when she hit the bottom. There was no way that she wasn't.

Except there was no bottom and she didn't know what finally broke her fall because she couldn't see anything and couldn't feel anything and there was nothing for a long time except her harsh breaths and her pounding heart.

Until there was pain. And then that pain became all there was. She screamed again, convulsed, tried to escape it but there was no way out, no purchase to cling to. There was nothing but the pain. Her bones made an awful noise as they rubbed against each other, cracked and moved and reformed and then cracked again. Her face split apart and reformed and her ears fell off and regrew. And then her left arm was on fire. It started in her palm and she screamed as it traveled up her arm all the way to her shoulder but no other part of her caught fire. Panic was going to engulf her and if she could breathe through the pain she'd be hyperventilating.

And then it was gone. She ached all over, worse even than when her fibromyalgia was kicking her ass, but the grinding in her bones and the tearing of her skin and the awful agony in her arm were only a memory. She had a moment to just breathe, and then she was falling again.

She screamed and clawed for anything to hold on to, but there was nothing, nothing, and then there was a light at her feet and then before she could react she slammed back into reality, broken stone under her hands and knees and a choked gasp escaped her and the dim light felt blinding after so much darkness and then she was falling again, but not very far at all, and it was a relief when her head hit the stone ground beneath her and she lost consciousness.

***

The first few moments of consciousness were slow, groggy, like she was swimming through molasses to get to the surface, but when she finally managed to open her eyes she gasped and tried to sit up. The aches in her body took that moment to remind her of their existence, particularly in her back, and when she tried to use her arms to help they wouldn't move. She gave up and laid back, then frowned when her arms still wouldn't move. She looked down at them and found metal shackles around her wrists. Her breaths started to come faster.

“Find Seeker Cassandra and tell her the prisoner is wake!” she heard called from nearby. She looked up, toward the voice, but what she saw made no sense.

Damp stone floors with broken mortar between the blocks, a person dressed in armor on the other side of thick steel bars, no windows and only a few torches to break up the darkness. Where was she?

Shouts came down stairs she couldn't see and she didn't hear them because she stopped listening, wasn't trying. Everything was so loud, so very loud in this place. Was it because of all the stone? She could hear the water trickling down the wall beside her and that was odd, she shouldn't be able to hear that so clearly.

The door to the cell she was apparently in opened with a creaking groan of metal that made her ears hurt and then she was hauled up despite her cry of pain. She was then thrown into the center of the room, told to kneel, and the four people with her drew swords to point at her, of all things. Swords. She blinked at them in confusion, blinked at the room.

It was so clear. There were only a few lights but she could see it so easily, as though it were perfectly lit. She could hear rodents scurrying around the walls and the door far above open and then close. She could hear the whispers of people on the stairs and none of that should have been possible. She could never hear so well, even with her hearing aids! And her contacts never let her see this clearly! What was happening?

It was so strange and she began to panic, and then the pain in her hand returned, muted, more like she was holding a ball of pure static shock in her palm. She gasped and looked down and found that her hand was sparking green. Her hand? It looked different, smaller, slender, but there was the freckle on her knuckle and the curved scar from where the knife slipped while she was making dinner. Three stitches to hold it together, long since healed. The hand was hers, but not. She breathed a little faster, though she tried not to, closing her mouth to breathe through her nose.

Oh shit! That smell! Piss and rotten things and the damp dark and fucking hell she'd never smelled anything like it! She fought to urge to gag, fought the panic that tried to take her, fought for calm she knew she wouldn't find.

Hard, stomping steps on the stone stairs, lighter ones beside them, and then two figures appeared and she gazed up at them in fear. Another sword was drawn, this one brought to her chin.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now,” the one who threatened her demanded, and that voice, those words, no. No, she knew this. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you!”

Now there was no controlling the panic, no way to stop it, and her breaths came faster and faster until they were wheezing from her throat. “No! No, no! This isn't happening, you're not real! You were never real, it was a game!” She was screaming, she knew she was, but that panic had hold of her and she was cold and shaking and yanking at her restraints and the sound bounced and it hurt and her ear twitched and why the fuck did her ear twitch? “It was just a game and I loved it but it wasn't real! You can't be real! No!” The people around her looked spooked but she saw it through hazy vision and she couldn't breathe and there was a call, a name to summon but she couldn't hear it, couldn't see, there was nothing but her breath and the pounding of her heart in her ears and then she returned to blessed blackness.

***

This time she woke slowly from the abyss, like it was trying to hold on to her, wisps of dark shadows trying to keep her unconscious until she pushed past them and forced them to release her. She didn't move this time because she could tell she hadn't truly woken yet. It had to be a dream, this stinky, cold, damp dungeon in a game she loved. It had to be a dream. It wasn't real.

“You are awake,” a soft, lilting voice she knew too well said from beside her. She flinched from it, flinched again from the warm hand, chapped around its calluses, that came to rest on her forehead. That hand felt more real than the stone beneath her back, and she didn't like that. “Be calm, I am only attempting to heal you.” A warm current, at once like water and electricity, softly flowed over her skin, and she flinched away from that alien sensation again with a quiet whimper. It stopped.

“You are not accustomed to healing magic, are you?” he asked as his hand fell away from her skin. She took a deep breath and bit the bullet, opening her eyes to what seemed to be her new reality.

There he was, in glorious Technicolor with all the realistic rendering of reality and full surround sound, her favorite fictional crush. Solas, bald and way more fucking gorgeous than she'd really known he would be. His ears were so sharp she thought they might cut, his jaw really was carved by angels, and his cheekbones could make anyone's knees melt, and that fucking chin was too good to be true. Damn it.

“Not GDL…” she muttered to herself and watched his head tilt to the side. She sighed before he could question her and answered his question. “No, never had healing magic.”

He nodded as though that answered several questions. It probably did. Shit, she had to come up with a story fast. Hey, Solas, let's take a page out of your book, shall we? she thought at him. Vague and always the truth, but only some of it. She could feel an interrogation coming, and she scrambled for her memory of the game, of the fandom she'd been part of, of her accumulated knowledge of this world and a name she could claim as her own because that was definitely coming next. Not her real name, it didn't fit here, didn't even really fit her, so something else.

“What may I call you?” he asked her next, and she wondered if he knew that he all but gave her permission to lie about her name. Probably.

“Salshira,” she told him, a name she'd been using to roleplay with a friend. Oh fuck, her friends… No, no time for that now, those thoughts would only make her panic again.

“A journey of the soul,” he translated, and she was somehow surprised that it translated the same here. Well, no, not if this was her dream. Oh, look, he was wearing the hobo clothes! Amazing. She had the absurd urge to giggle and tried to suppress it. “It seems apt, given the circumstances.”

She hummed to let him know she was listening and just stared at the ceiling so that maybe she wouldn't freak out again. She was probably going to freak out again. Soon. Nah, just breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Panic attacks suck, let's not have another. Even her chest ached now, from the force of her hectic breaths.

“Why were you at the Conclave?” he asked mildly, as though they were having a pleasant chat over tea. Except Solas hates tea. She couldn't suppress the slightly hysterical giggle this time. She cleared her throat awkwardly right after.

“I don't know,” she told him, and it felt more like the answer to everything than this specific question. Was she at the Conclave? Where did she fall out of that portal? Or did she? Was she dreaming? Was it real? It felt oddly like her memories were from long ago and the only thing that was real was this moment. But that was probably just the shock.

“You don't? Why not?” His voice was so gentle at all times and he was oddly good at this, but it made her want to scream.

“No, I don't! I don't remember!” she cried, rolling onto her side away from him. Follow the narrative, she told herself. Like it was that easy. She would be expected to fight, wouldn't she? Fuck.

For a while there was only the crackling of torches and the trickling of water and the stench of the dungeon. He didn't try to ask more and she was grateful for the reprieve. She needed a story, needed to remember the story she was given in the game, but mostly she just needed to try to process the fact that this was either the most realistic, most lucid dream she'd ever had, or she'd somehow fallen through a portal into Thedas.

“I will leave you to rest, Salshira,” Solas said, and she heard him get to his feet to leave. He was so quiet, just the slight rustling of cotton and wool clothing, and she shivered her discomfort because she shouldn’t have been able to hear it. Her hands were still in those awful manacles but she managed to lift one to touch the spot behind her ear where her hearing aid should have rested, but instead of touching her scalp beneath her shaved hair she just met more ear. And more ear. And still more ear. She finally found the end of it and had to bite her lip to suppress her shriek at the fact that her ear was pointed. Oh, what the fuck? Her industrial piercing was still intact, moved up the length of her now stupidly long ear, but there was the little silver bar she’d had for years. Curiously, she touched her eyebrow and found the little curved metal bar there, too. Did she still have all her piercings, even though her ear had changed shape? What the fuck…

Finally, she got around to touching the back of her ear where the bulk of her hearing aid was supposed to rest. She liked the ones she had, they were a dark red that complimented her skin and her style. But instead of finding the tiny device, she found a slightly raised bit of skin, a slightly different texture from the rest of it. Had her hearing aid melted into her flesh? Ew. Then why could she hear so clearly? Apparently all that breaking and reshaping of bones might have actually done something to her, and for the first time it occurred to her to look down at her body.

In addition to the new elongated ears and oddly slender fingers, she now had an abnormally slender body. She’d always been a bit chubby, just an accident of genetics, with wide shoulders and wide hips. But now she was skinnier than anyone she’d ever met, and the world sort of tilted for a moment, making her glad she was lying down. It took a few minutes of deep breathing, pushing back another panic attack, before she realized that her newly slender body was actually about the same shape, proportionally. Her bones had shrunk but she was still her-shaped. Hips and shoulders wider than her waist, big tits, thick thighs, strong calves. It was all somewhat familiar, at least. Just narrower and without the padding she’d had most of her life. In fact, she was oddly muscular. Not buff, but stronger than she’d been. What the fuck? No, she was saying that too much it. Or thinking it, whatever. Reality was warping again and she was worried she was about to fall back into hysterics.

No, she couldn’t afford to. She had to keep calm. A story, she needed a story. Follow the narrative, sure, but what else? The narrative certainly didn’t cover everything, did it? She’d have to fill in the blanks. There would be personal questions, more than there’d been in the game. Less exposition, more personal stuff, questions she needed to think of answers to. Well, maybe she could deflect most of them for the time being. But not forever.

Forever? Was she stuck here forever? In Thedas? In a game? Was it even a game? Shit, more questions without answers…

All of You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2070 Warnings: Slight angst, fluff

Summary: After an accident Bucky doubts he’s worth your love

A/N: This is my submission for @propertyofpoeandbucky 3k Disney Challenge. My prompt was “But if you want to leave, you can. I’ll remember you though….I remember everyone that leaves.” from Lilo and Stitch Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! gif source (x)

The howling wind whirred hard against the giant window pane. You overlooked Manhattan below, the bustling city now quieting under the thick blankets of snow. Bucky had invited you to the Tower earlier that day to watch a movie, not expecting the winter storm warning to become a full fledged blizzard. As a result you would be taking a huge step in your relationship, sleeping over.

Bucky was nervous, having jumped into previous relationships too quickly, a desperate attempt to prove to himself that he can live a regular life despite his past. But his relationships ended as quickly as they were formed and he couldn’t help but feel dejected. You met him one day unexpectedly while you were at the florist’s treating yourself to fresh flowers, something you were seldom able to do with the high cost of living in New York.

“Uh, excuse me miss.” You heard the unsure voice of a stranger and turned around. Your mouth hung slightly open, recognizing him as James Buchanan Barnes despite the baseball cap that shadowed his face. “May I ask your opinion?” You nodded in response, snapping your jaw shut as you gazed at an Avenger in the flesh. He was so much taller than you thought, and muscular, and oh so handsome and…

He held up two bouquets, “So which is better?”

You realized you probably missed a sentence or two he said but tried to cover for yourself. “This is for…?” you asked, dragging out your words.

“Birthday gift, for a friend,” he replied.

You looked at the two very different bundles of flowers, one hand held a beautiful bouquet of red and pink roses, large pink lilies and other blush colored flowers that filled in the surrounding space. With a gloved hand he held a bright bouquet of daisies in a variety of colors.

“Is this just a friend?”

His eyes crinkled as he laughed at your presumption, unable to consider Wanda as anything other than a little sister to him. He responded with a firm yes. Watching his face light up with a beaming smile you couldn’t help but form one of your own. “I’d go for the daisies then. They’re more festive.”

“Thanks, that’s what I was thinking.” He placed the romantic looking bouquet back where he found it. “I’m Bucky, by the way,” he said, offering you his hand.

“I know who you are.” The eager words came out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. “I mean, I’m Y/N,” you said, extended one hand to meet his, as the other went to your face to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky offered to pay for the bouquet of sunflowers in your hand as a thank you but you politely declined, feeling like he had done enough for New York and the world as it was already. His head was tilted with interest as he watched you make small talk with the silver haired woman behind the counter.

“It was nice meeting you,” you said, passing him to head towards the door.

“Hey wait!” Bucky shouted.

He had offered to buy you coffee instead and you couldn’t say no, and that’s where it all began. Once you were “official” Bucky had asked if he could continue to take things slow and you happily obliged.

Dating Bucky was lovely and you really took the time to get to know each other. You would go on lengthy strolls around the city where you talked until long after the sun went down. He took you to small coffee shops partially because he refused to pay the ridiculously inflated prices at Starbucks, and also because these quaint shops reminded him of the past where “Mom and Pop” businesses were ubiquitous.

It took time for Bucky to slowly let his guard down, worrying you would leave after learning firsthand about the terrible things he’s done. You saw through his insecurities, knowing the sweet person inside was sadly manipulated and abused through the years.

Eventually you met the rest of the team but your stomach fluttered and churned with anxiety as you prepared to meet Steve Rogers. Anyone would be nervous meeting Captain America but the added pressure of him being your boyfriend’s best friend didn’t help. You had nothing to worry about though as you got along with everyone, earning bonus points from Bucky as you exchanged quips with Sam faster than he ever could have. Your presence at the Tower increased as the group happily accepted you, which lead to tonight’s predicament.

“Looks like I’m not going anywhere tonight,” you stated, turning towards Bucky whose complexion seemed to mimic the falling snow. “This is place is huge, I know there’s an extra bed somewhere.” You grabbed his hand for reassurance, knowing you didn’t want to pressure Bucky into anything.

“No, it’s okay Y/N.” Bucky exhaled a slow and steady breath. “We can sleep together. I mean sleep in the same bed together,” he frantically sputtered, ripening like a tomato with every word.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Bucky really,” you took his hands in yours, looking up at his nervous face with sincerity in your eyes, “If you’re not comfortable with it I’m completely fine sleeping in another room.”

He brought your hands up to his lips, kissing them softly. “Thank you Y/N, but really I’m okay with it.” You threw your arms around him, caressing the nape of his neck as you brought him towards you for a sweet kiss.

Bucky gave you a t-shirt and sweatpants to change into, the fabric smelling just like him brought warmth into your belly. You stayed up for a little while longer, snuggling cozily together in his bed, flipping between channels before you settled on reruns of Impractical Jokers. The show had lifted away any nerves Bucky felt. He stifled a burst of laughter when he realized you had fallen asleep on his chest, hearing the soft noises of your tired body. Bucky turned off the TV, kissing the top of your head before he settled back into the pillow and smiled once more having your sleeping frame beside him.

You woke up in panic, hissing as you held your cheek against your palm. It throbbed with pain and you were confused, trying to figure out what was happening in the pitch black room. Someone punched you, but who? You heard Bucky grunting and struggling and you felt his legs kicking at the mattress. How did someone get in the Tower? You jumped out of bed, hoping not to run into an unknown assailant as your hands searched for the nightstand, blindly finding the switch for the lamp to turn it on.

Holding your breath you expected to be attacked by someone, an enemy you would try to fight off with the nearest object you could find except when the light finally shined on the room it revealed you were alone with Bucky, and the only thing he was struggling with was his mind.

He told you about his nightmares but you didn’t realize how physical they were. His jaw was clenched, beads of sweat littered his forehead as his body twisted and turned on the bed. You were scared for him. You whispered his name a few times but he didn’t wake up. Taking a deep breath you leaned over him, gently caressing his chest as you spoke louder, “Bucky wake up. It’s okay baby, just wake up.”

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist before his fear stricken eyes opened, he panted heavily as he realized his familiar surroundings. He let go of you quickly and sat up against the headboard, catching his breath with his eyes shut tightly. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, to comfort him after the trauma he was reliving but you could tell he needed space.

You sat in silence for a minute or so before getting up. Bucky opened his eyes feeling your weight shift off of the mattress, wondering if you were ever coming back. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. It took him by surprise to see you walk back into his room, with a glass of water and a washcloth you ran under the sink.

Your lips were curved up into a sympathetic smile as you handed him the cold glass, gently asking if you could dab the washcloth on his forehead.

Bucky nodded quickly, bringing the glass to his lips. His mouth was dry before he took a sip, rasping as began to thank you before his eyes caught a glance of your cheek in the light. Anger and grief washed over him as he saw a small abrasion surrounded by swelling.

“Fuck!” His outburst surprised you and Bucky slammed the glass bottle onto the nightstand. Shattered glass and water sprayed all over the floor but you didn’t care. His hands balled into fists which he began pounding onto his head.

“Bucky stop!” you pleaded, grabbing his hands.

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” he said, lifting his head up you saw the tears lining the brim of his eyes. “I can’t believe I did that, I can’t…” he panted, as his breaths began to labor again.

“Shhh Bucky it’s okay.” You attempted to console him but he flung his arms up in protest, getting up to pace around the room.

“If the roads are clear you can go home, if not I’ll go to another room. It doesn’t matter,” he said sorrowfully. “But if you want to leave, you can. I’ll remember you though… I remember everyone that leaves,” he continued under his breath.

“What are you talking about Bucky?”

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, “I remember all of them. Marissa, the girl who shuddered every time my metal hand touched her, or Janel who took one look at my scars and made me feel like the monster that I am. You can leave Y/N, I’m used to it,” he said as the words bubbled in his throat.

You took a step closer towards him, sternly insisted you were not going anywhere.

“I hit you!” he screamed.

“By accident!” you retorted, trying reasoned with him.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he gathered his thoughts, “I’m a mess Y/N. Being with me, it’s dangerous and… j-just look at me,” he huffed, head hanging low in shame.

He didn’t back away when you stood in front of him, clasping your hands together around his back for a strong embrace. His body shuddered with sobs underneath your touch. “Bucky I knew you who were when we met and I didn’t want to leave.”

He sighed loudly, you looked at his pained face, his eyes were still shut tight but that didn’t stop the tears from escaping. You let go, gently ghosting your hands over his, grazing his fingers with a delicate touch until they intertwined with your own.

“Come here,” you gently whispered, pulling him to sit on the bed again. Your thumb swiped against his tear stained cheek. “Over the last few months I got to know the person in here,” you said, placing your palm on his rapidly beating heart. “It was an accident Bucky, we both know that. I forgive you and… I love you.”

Bucky’s slumped shoulder’s lifted and he picked his head up to stare at you, his mouth falling open at your admission.

“I love you Bucky, all of you, and I’m not going anywhere,” you proudly declared, bringing his metal hand up to your lips and kissing the smooth palm.

“I love you too Y/N,” he sniffled, as he pressed his forehead against yours. You leaned in further, quickly licking your lips before bringing them to meet his for a tender and passionate kiss.

His gently cupped your face into his warm hand as he pressed a loving peck against the tender area of your cheek before wrapping his arms around you again. You lay back on the bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest, as he settled back into the mattress.

“I love you Bucky,” you softly murmured, knowing he needed to hear it again. A smile painted his face as your calming words helped quiet his mind so he could fall back asleep. No one said dating Bucky would be easy but love isn’t easy and you were in this no matter what; for the good and bad, all of it, all of him.

JSE Fanfiction: Go It Alone

Summary:  Since his creation, Jackieboy Man has always fought his battles alone. Now he doesn't have to and that...takes some getting used to.

Owning the responsibility of being a superhero had never been easy and as soon as he was created, Jackieboy had been forced to accept that, mostly because of the welcome he had received. He’d burst into the Egos Incorporated building, ready with a heroic greeting to his fellow Egos, and had found all of the lights were off—more than that, all of the light switches had been torn out of the walls. Even without the lights, he could see that the entire place was a ruin.

As soon as he’d taken his first step past the doorway, Anti had come to greet him. That had been an interesting battle, to say the least, but Jackieboy was new and fresh and Anti hadn’t gained as much popularity with the fans yet, at least not compared to what he had now, so they fairly rivaled each other in power. They had destroyed what precious little was left of the building before dropping where they were and passing out for the night. In the morning, Anti had disappeared and Jackieboy was left with some serious renovations to do.

They were the first two and for the most part, they avoided each other. Jackieboy was left to his own devices for everything, including the treatment of his post-mission injuries. He spent many nights curled up on his bed, biting his lip against the pain until it bled too, his gloved hands shaking as he stitched up his wounds and then the tears in his jumpsuit that went with them. His secondary location was the bathroom, where he spent his time fighting for consciousness or throwing up after the unpleasant surprise of whiplash or an electrocution or natural blood loss.

It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. He reminded himself of that every night as he crawled—sometimes literally—to his bed, dry-swallowing his painkillers and searching for the sleep position that would hurt the least. It was worth it. Every time he saw the light, the hope and adoration in his citizens’ eyes, it made every scar something worth remembering.

It wasn’t like he could ever forget them, after all. He remembered every mission and the sweat, blood, and tears that went into them.

Nothing, and yet somehow everything, changed when another Ego arrived on the scene. Jackieboy had been in the kitchen, filling the lonesome void of silence by pondering his usual routine: dinner and a beer, some painkillers, researching home medical treatment for injuries, scouring the Deep Web for more crimes to prevent and then, if the city was quiet, binge-watching some of his favorite shows until he fell asleep. This routine was long-forged; time was somewhat different for the Egos than it was for everyone else.

As he’d rummaged around one day, he had found Anti’s notes on the matter: in what he called “outer time,” the time Jack and the fans knew, Jackieboy had only been created a month ago. In “Personal time,” he was already years old and he had spent those years going it alone, apart from those unfortunate instances when Anti threw a swing out of the blue, determined to take everything out on him. There were times that this reality threatened to drive him round the bend, but he honestly couldn’t foresee it changing any time soon.

Barely thirty seconds after this familiar thought, a near-blinding green glow broke open the front doors with a resounding crash, bringing Jackieboy in at his best run—which was more of a limp, considering that he had sprained his ankle the week before. Before him stood Marvin the Magnificent and he…wasn’t as magnificent as his name suggested. In fact, when he arrived, he didn’t even have an official name.

“Jack…didn’t expect me, I don’t think,” the nameless one had said as greeting. “He didn’t expect me to become an Ego; I was a one-time gig.” He shifted anxiously, his long cape pulled tightly in around his hunched shoulders, eyes wide and young and new behind his ridiculous cat mask, and Jackieboy had melted.

“One time is all it takes,” he answered reassuringly, squaring his shoulders and ignoring how the left one ached from being recently set. “Don’t you worry, magician. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Take care. If Jackieboy was anything, he was a man of his word, which was why his new companion was settled comfortably in a room immediately next to his. Even with the love and glory he had gotten from crime-fighting, he was never happier than when he remembered he had a “brother” to come home to. The time they spent getting to know each other was precious; Jackieboy helped him hone his identity, scouring the city for new magic books to give him, introducing him to all of the Harry Potter movies in the span of two days, and inventing a new moniker for him every morning to keep his spirits up until Jack could give him that one perfect name. It would come soon, he was sure of it!

His companion did quite a lot for him too, though he never seemed to realize how important all of it was. For the first time in his life, Jackieboy wasn’t weighing Personal minutes anymore, straining past every agonizingly slow, silent second. He wasn’t blasting loud music, desperate to drown out the silence, and he was able to say goodnight to someone knowing they would be in the next room when he woke up. He had someone who not only looked up to him but didn’t need to be rescued. They were close and safe together.

Of course, having someone in the house who actually cared about his safety made going it alone a little harder. Jackieboy was the protector, plain and simple, which meant he desperately wanted his “brother” to feel safe. He had a distinct feeling that licking his wounds in plain sight would undermine that, so he thought fast, playing off Jack’s authority just a little as he explained that their creator had a set of rules for younger Egos to follow. Those rules included a curfew. As soon as he felt the ever-present tingle of the magician’s aura soften into sleep, he would drag himself to the bathroom and get to work.

The curfew wasn’t as helpful with time-sensitive injuries, but he hunkered down and bore it well until the next time he could get a room to himself. He started stashing medical vitals in various nooks and crannies, simple things like bandages, needles and thread, and painkillers—lots of painkillers. It was miraculous what modern pills could do to stifle those annoying whines of pain that wanted nothing more than to crawl out of his lungs when he least expected them.

Those pills were all he could think of as he limped home after his latest escapade. The Silver Shepherd had called him in a panic asking for his help in dealing with an alien creature running amuck in his city nearby. After hours of chasing the gigantic arachnoid being, pinning it down and then chasing it down again when it inevitably escaped, one good shot to two of its legs had sent it crashing into the side of a building—one occupied by civilians on every floor. Silver Shepherd had lunged, but Jackieboy had frankly ordered him to stay behind and evacuate the civilians while he held the building up. Shepherd knew the city better, so he would know the safest place to send them.

The lobby ceiling was heavy as all balls and he had no idea how long it took, but he kept his thoughts away from the pain. “Work with your knees, use your knees, no slipping,” he hissed through short, ragged breaths as his back and the rubble pressed against it groaned ominously. No pain, no pain, don’t let go. They’re scared, they need you. At long, long last, he could hear Shepherd shouting from outside that the civilians were safe. Trembling, Jackieboy breathed a sigh of relief and promptly let his body give out.

He was curled up there under the rubble for a while, not really caring to get up, until he heard his friend calling for a rescue team to dig him out. That wasn’t allowed; if they found him like this, who knew how they would react? “Get up,” he ordered himself, wriggling as best he could until the wreckage started to shift. As soon as it slid off, he threw himself to his feet—best to get it done quickly—and it was all he could do not to cry out, but he was upright and he was fine and dandy.

Shepherd was definitely relieved to see him, but Jackieboy kept the congratulations brief, making up some excuse about the magician needing him at home before heading out. Flying wasn’t an option; he could gauge that something was seriously wrong with his back and he didn’t want to put any drag on it. The dull impact of each step alone was agony.

When he got home, any residual adrenaline died away and he felt like his skin was on fire. The bathroom felt miles away, but he made it there by sheer willpower and stripped off as much of his costume as he could, sagging against the door to keep himself standing. As soon as he did, he was forced to bite back a high-pitched yelp as the door bumped the piece of metal lodged in his lower back. If he craned his neck, he could see it in the mirror: a piece of rebar. It wasn’t even that thick; why did it feel like he had been backstabbed with a broadsword?!

Somehow it had managed to miss his spine and vital organs, he noted, searching desperately for a bright side. That meant he should pull it out, right? He honestly had no idea. His computer in the other room felt very, very far away and his phone had been broken by the building falling on top of him, so he couldn’t check for sure. He’d rather wing it than have rebar in his back any longer than was necessary.

“Out,” he whispered, straining to get a proper grip on the metal despite the awkward angle. “Out, out, out—gently—” The edges of his vision were whiting out and he was distantly aware that he could very well land on the injury as he collapsed, but just as the floor started rising to meet him, the rebar fell with a clang and blood cut a bright, wet trail through the dust on his skin.

Antiseptic became his best friend, forcing Jackieboy to laugh at the irony as he swathed his back in it and several layers of gauze. He would probably need stitches for it, but he could get to it later. In the meantime he treated the other shallow cuts scattered across his body, meticulously picking out any glass that had gouged its way in and slapping bandages on those too. He definitely needed stitches for his leg, however, and it wasn’t a need he could put off.

He was out of painkillers in his bathroom stash, he discovered, mumbling a curse as he grabbed the thread and crept out toward the kitchen. He would have to be particularly stealthy if he wanted Magic Man to keep sleeping peacefully, but his closest store was at the very back of the pantry—reaching up to grab them was going to be murder, but all that mattered was the relief he would feel afterward.

They weren’t there. As much as Jackieboy patted around and stood on tiptoe to see, the bottles had vanished. Biting his lip and doing his best not to panic, the hero spun around, jumping out of his torn and bloody skin when he came face to face with Anti.

“L͘oo̴k̷i̴n͘g for̶ ͟th̨ese̡?” the Glitch taunted, waving the bottles innocently.

“I don’t have time for this,” Jackieboy hissed, vehement and pained.

“W̕ha͜t'̢s yo̵ur hưr̡ry̡? Worried that the c͢h͞ar̵m̶e̢r͢ may find out what y̢͞ǫ̶͡u̡͢͡’ve been k͟ȩepi̧n̕g f̡ro͘m̡ h͘im̴?̧” Anti scoffed, turning the bottles over in each of his hands and scanning them intently. “When d̛o you plan o̴n t̶el̨l̢ing him̴?̧”

“Why do you care? What d’you want?”

“I w̴ant to wa̧tch you i͘m̵p̵r̕ov҉i̵se. I want to see if t̷o̶d͡ay’s the day you d͡ro͜p d̸e͟a҉d because you can’t keep your f̛riends cļo̡se͘!” Jackieboy’s irises sputtered with threatening light and Anti tilted his head condescendingly. “Don’t try͘ that; you don’t want to s͝tr͡a̴i̷n yourself.”

True to Anti’s words, Jackieboy felt the power in his blood waning; most of it was seeping from his back at the moment. “Anti…” he began in a low voice, very nearly pleading.

Anti’s teeth remained bared, but any hint of humor dropped away from his face as he leaned closer, static making his voice and figure grainy as he barked, “You ma̶d̛e͢ this happ͡e͟n and yo̵u ‘ll be the one who fi̢x͠es it! Go ͞a̶head͠, herǫ! Just try and fix ̶it͞!̸”

Jackieboy swung. He was in agony and he was angry and he did the first thing his instincts told him. Anti swore and flung the precious bottles to the side, where they exploded against the wall and scattered their contents as he drew his knife to replace them. It wasn’t a fight Jackieboy could win and in the back of his mind he knew it, but he couldn’t let himself stop. He swung and missed, swung and missed again, narrowly ducked Anti’s swipe and batted his arm away from his throat, only for Anti to neatly flip the knife to his free hand and plunge it into his side. The hero couldn’t manage anything but a stuttering gasp at the fresh pain blooming; the bloom became a burn as Anti viciously twisted it up under his ribs.

“S̶o p͢ointl̸ess,͟ pu̢pp͡e̷ţ,” he tutted as Jackieboy’s feet slid out from under him on the linoleum; he was held up by the knifepoint alone. “Let’s h̶op͞e the c̷ha͘rmer is smar̴te͟r͏ than y̸o̡u we͟re̶.”

Were, Jackieboy realized as Anti dragged the knife out of him inch by serrated inch and strode off, letting him drop. Were. I’m dying? Belated terror coursed through his veins as the blood left them, bubbling up in his throat and his side, but the fear wasn’t for himself. He couldn’t let this happen, he couldn’t let the magician be alone, not with Anti. He was young, vulnerable—he didn’t even know his name yet—

“Hello there? Is anyone…oh, my, what has happened to you?!” a strange, exotic voice gasped, drawing a cough from Jackieboy as he gravitated toward the noise. With a clatter and a thump, the stranger arrived beside him. As soon as he glimpsed the similar shock of green hair, Jackieboy knew.

A new Ego. This was the worst time possible for a new Ego; for all he knew, Anti could still be around.

“G-Get out of here…Hide,” he found himself saying, every word a struggle. His vision was swimming, but even when he blinked, startled eyes peering into his own were all he could see of the new one’s face; the rest of it was covered by an awkwardly attached procedure mask.

“You are the hero!” the stranger was now babbling in a panic, completely ignoring Jackieboy’s words. “I know him, he save the city countless times, we all love him—you—but you’re in a sorry state! What on earth did you stick yourself with and why, oh, why? B-But do not worry, the—the doctor is here! Dr. Schneep will do all he can to save you…”

“Jackie?”

No, no, no, that was the magician’s voice, he couldn’t be seen like—He spotted Magic Man coming up on the scene from the hallway, gaping down at him and the youngest Ego in horror.

“You there! Help me with him,” the foreign doctor—Schneep, he’d said?—ordered hurriedly, and the magician was quick to obey, carrying Jackieboy to the nearby dining room table. Jackieboy’s mind went to strange places when he was bleeding out: his first thought was that he didn’t want to stain the tablecloth. He tried to say as much, but he was already flat on his back with his “brother’s” cape draped over his lower legs, so it was too late.

It was too late for a lot of things, he mused regretfully as he watched the magician pace the room, begging the new one to act fast. The doctor nodded with such force that his surgical cap flew off his head, rummaging through the bag he’d brought in with him. Jackieboy focused on that for a few moments, wondering at how he moved and talked so differently, though he couldn’t make out what he was saying anymore until he pushed back Jackieboy’s hood and leaned in very close. This close up, Jackieboy could see that his gaze was strained by anxiety, but his voice was kind.

“Do not worry, hero,” he soothed. “We’re gonna take good care of you.”

Take care. Jackieboy recalled making that same promise some time ago. Eyes glassy and overly bright behind his mask, he offered a small nod. Maybe…just this once, it would be nice for him to be rescued.

My Giant Long Catchup Post

TRIGGER WARNING: contains mention of mental illnesses, hospitals, and suicideal thoughts as well as self harm. 

 So. Let's begin this. I stopped getting online as much while I was pregnant. Pregnancy kinda kicked my butt. Well 2017 kinda kicked my butt. I was high risk from the beginning. I'm 5'3, overweight, have a thyroid condition and rheumatoid arthritis and I was having twins. From the beginning, the goal was to get me to 37 weeks. Until the end of the pregnancy things went surprisingly well other than them thinking they saw something odd with twin A's heart on an ultrasound. We had a fetal echo-cardiogram and they said everything was fine. That night I was hit with the rotovirus and while that is not fun ever it is extra not fun when you are six months pregnant. I was put on modified bed rest where I was basically under orders to take it really easy in November, in December it became official bedrest. The boys were due on Feb 23. In January at an appointment, we found out baby A (Xander) was having problems with blood flow. I went back the next week and they seem to have gotten better. He still was much smaller than his twin but they assumed it was from that problem. A week later, I went in and my blood pressure was super high. I was admitted to the hospital for preeclampsia at 33 weeks exactly. The plan was to keep me in the hospital and push for 35 weeks, hopefully 36. That didn't happen. Xander wasn't growing. At all. My blood pressure was staying high even with medication and blood thinners since I couldn't leave the bed. The doctors decided to induce me at 34 weeks exactly, they couldn't wait any longer. This is where this gets hard for me. Their birth was very very tramatic. I labored unmedicated for 12 hours on pitocin until I needed an instant emergency C-Section because one of the baby's heart rate was dropping. I have been diagnosed with PTSD from all of the events of the birth and everything that followed. I still have flashbacks of being rushed to the operating room and staring up at the lights flying by me. I was prepped for surgery and my mom and husband were there with me. They quickly performed the surgery and got those babies out of me. Neither was breathing. Neither cried. Teams began working on them while they were working to close me up. My mom and husband are trying to see and I was just over and over saying "What is happening they won't tell me anything why aren't they telling me anything." I later learned Xander was born grey and basically dead and Xavier was born blue. Xavier they were able to get breathing on his own while Xander they had to immediately intubate and rush to the nicu for further intervention. I got to see Xavier for a minute before they rushed him out of the room to the NICU. I didn't get to see Xander until the next afternoon. After the boys birth things were still really rough. Xavier got better and better and came home from the NICU 28 days later. Xander still wasn't doing well. During this time my mental illness got much worse. Due to pressure to keep breastfeeding I was still on no medicine. I talked with my OBGYN about how bad it was and he sent me straight to a psychiatrist. She was unable to get things under control until I went completely over the edge of being very suicidal and having a very hard time not self harming. My roommate brought me to the emergency room where they sent me to a mental hospital. There they diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder and Panic Disorder. When I got out, I confronted the doctors and refused to take Xander home on oxygen until they figured things out and demanded another echocardiogram. The next morning I woke up to a call saying that he was in the process of being air lifted to the large Children's Hospital 3 hours away and if I could get there is under 30 minutes I could see him first. I live 32 minutes from the nicu he was at. I got there in 20. I had just enough time to hold his hand before they took him. Frantic calls to family later, my mom was taking Xavier and staying at my Aunt's an hour away and we were on our way to New Orleans where we learned more. Xander was in severe heart failure due to a very large hole in his heart. They needed to get him stable and into surgery. We moved into the Ronald McDonald house. At 9 weeks old, Xander had open heart surgery. 3 days later he ripped the stitching in his sternum and had another surgery to wire his sternum shut. While he was still in the hospital, I found out my followup mental health appointments were not made correctly. I went without medicine and had another break. Was brought to the hospital again and they treated me exactly the same even though I explained other symptoms. Xander came home after 84 days in the NICU and CICU. Xander continued to have eating issues though and had surgery in August to have a gtube placed. He is 100% gtube dependent now but it has made all of the difference in the world. 

I continued working with my therapist and psychiatrist. My psychiatrist added a mood stabilizer but it wasn’t working, we switched twice and I was still having issues. It got to the point that I got much much worse (I found out later that no one had noticed a really bad interaction with the mood stabilizers and my RA medication). I became convinced that because I was doing so badly I was abusive to my children. That night, I tried to swallow a bottle of pills that I knew were highly toxic in large quantities. My husband found me where I was hiding at just the right moment and pulled the pills out of my mouth. The resulting trip to the mental hospital was highly helpful. I am now off of that RA medicine. I was diagnosed as Bipolar 1 with mixed episodes, Panic Disorder, and PTSD. I am on lots of different medicines and they are helping a lot. I feel like myself again for the first time in a while. I’ll tell you this, if you are the one in a mental hospital with tarot cards people are always interested lol. So. That was my year but I am finally at a stable place. I haven’t had a panic attack in almost a month for the first time since I was 16. I’m ready to move forward.