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vegalocity · 5 years

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I wanted to do some designs that were more Magical Girl Esque for Miraculous Ladybug, and by the time I started drawing Chat it was officially a Sleepless Domain AU because Sleepless Domain is a really interesting deconstruction of Magical Girl tropes and conventions without being overly hopeless like other deconstructions usually are.

(if you’re thinking ‘where’s Nino?’ he’s at the bottom of the cut so please don’t reblog this asking that)

for those who aren’t usually into webcomics, here’s the basic rundown and how the ML crew would fit into it:

The world of sleepless domain is... I suppose one could call it a post-post apocalypse along the limnes of Nausicaa and the Valley of the wind. Where something deeply magical and horrible ravaged the lang long ago. But this one city, currently unnamed, has been rebuilt in thanks to the magic they have sustained. This magic takes two forms. The barriers, and the Magical Girls.

The Barriers are in fact two of a kind, the outer barrier and the inner barrier. The outer barrier keeps the monsters out for most of the day, it’s a huge dome like structure that surrounds the city, no one can go in or out when the outer barrier is up. But the Outer barrier needs recharging for about 4 hours every night, from 10pm to 2am. And when the outer barrier goes down, the inner barrier forms. The inner barrier is a sort of seal along every closed surface of the city, it can be breached if a monster is strong enough or has enough time to chip at it, but it can also be opened from the other side by the people inside.

Which is where the Magical Girls come in. It’s currently rooted in mystery just how and why they get their powers, but when a girl gets her powers she’s usually around age 14, where she gets a mysterious, cryptic dream (some claim their dreams are creepy or depressing, while others find them almost serene) which ends with something, everyone knows there’s more to their dream but can’t remember it for the life of them. and when they wake up their hair and/or eyes have changed to some unnatural color, and a mark of the same color has been left somewhere on their body. The powers usually leave when they become a young adult. it’s not been specified if there’s an exact age, but the 18-20ish area seems most likely.

The Magical girls are tasked with fighting the monsters as the outer barrier goes down so as to make sure they don’t attack any helpless civillians on the inside of the inner barrier. there’s a lot of commentary on how Magical Girls are treated as both quasi-diefied saviors and straight up commodities throught the story. And as such it’s encouraged that Magical girls work in teams to maximize profit.

So this is the real shit on how Team Miraculous fits into the story

So Team Miraculous is a Non thematic team, in that despite all of them being based off of animals, they weren’t recruited with the intent on being a matched set. Thematic teams are usually shown to be thematic by having similar outfits, complimentary color schemes, and matching Marks.

Team Miraculous’ Animal theme is mostly coincidence.

So, as for the Ml kids themselves:

Marinette is the daughter of a former magical girl, Sabine Cheng AKA Shooting Star from the thematic Team Star. Sabine was... one of those kids that the city doesn’t like to talk about, someone who had a kid while she was still an active magical girl. Thankfully Team Star was only quasi popular and more of a ‘cult following’ than more overtly famous, so when Sabine quietly retired less of a fuss was kicked up than it could have been. It’s not a very common thing to have a kid while still a magical girl, but there is a precedent. When Marinette was born Sabine’s magic left her, and went into Marinette. There wasn’t much of a change other than her eyes. the color of Sabine’s magic. So when Marinette got The Dream it was inevitable. Sabine herself mostly encouraged Marinette to persue becoming a proper Magical Girl and as it turns out, the Magic that had left Sabine is now hers to channel.

Miraculous Ladybug’s power is not only Unlimited Lucky Charms (because we have no need for ML’s nerfing of the main characters anymore) but also ‘Lucky Streak’ which is based on her PV powers a little. Basically for a limited time whatever she’s attempting to do will turn out well for her, like the marvel lady Domino.

For the sale of a Five Man Band, and also the iconique nature of the black Cat, Adrien had to be here too, so since there’s already one instance of ‘trans women are real women you fuckwads’ in Sleepless Domain, i’m throwing another in the ring. Adriana Agreste. However unlike Zoe, Adriana was thankfully allowed to come out on her own terms. Mr. Agreste took it... surprisingly well. It was when, two weeks later, that Adriana woke up with black hair and her scleras turned green that he freaked out. THAT’s the fight of the century right there. that’s Daddy dearest confining her to her room, insisting any tutor he could hire would be EONS better than anything at the Magical Girls Only Highschool in the city, and that’s when Adriana sneaks out. She’s not sneaking out to go to Future’s Promisce, she’s sneaking out to register herself she wants to fight, to have this peice of her mother, and maybe understand her sacrifice a little better, her father finds out of course, but adriana’s refusing to stop, After she got registered her counsilor offered to move her into Future’s Promisce’s dorms. So she’s given Gabriel an ultimatum. Either he lets her go to public school and fight, or she’s moving out, needless to say, Gabriel relents. And that’s how she meets Ladybug and the two become the founding members of Team Miraculous.

As Miraculous Cat Her powers have been tweaked a bit from canon. Altering Cataclysm to only work on Monsters, but only on monsters that have solid physical forms. If she can grab hold if it she can turn it into dust. But this pwoer takes a lot out of her. She can either do it one time a night on a large monster, or multiple times a night on small monsters. But alongside that she has that Calamity power that was hinted at in earlier notes and the PV, in that she can summon bad luck and cast it on monsters. Creating damages based on their surroundings.

Alya’s as she always was as a character backstory. Her mother’s a chef, her father works with animals (though likely he just runs a shelter instead of a zoo since you know... dome city) But her older sister is an MG who just very recently lost her magic and is going to college. Alya still wants what she always wanted, to be a journalist and discover the truth. After what Nora went through as a Solo Magical Girl she wants to be the champion of the MG’s, since most news sites tend to lean into the idea of magical girls as they’ve been socially percieved as, Alya wants to show the world that magical Girls really are normal girls. That they don’t just exist to fight and die for the city. They have their own hopes and dreams. Sleepless DOmain seems to have decided that home technology ended around the mid 90′s since CD’s and corded phones are the norm, so Alya’s Self published journalism outlet is a newspaper instead of a Blog. She’s barely into making the deals with the printing company when she gets the Dream, and decides that’s even better, giving the city a first person perspective as a Magical girl. She opts to join her childhood friend Marinette’s team and become Miraculous Fox, since they’re already non thematic and it’d be easier to work with someone she already knew.

Alya still has an illusion based power of course, unlimited Mirage and all that. but most notably she’s the recon lady. able to summon a small orange fox that can do low level damage to enemies and more importantly she can see through its eyes so they don’’t have to rush into battles blind. She communicates with her fox with her flute when the little guy’s away from her. And she’s almost always seen taking notes on battles and what she learns from other MG’s for the next edition of The Magical Girl Banner

Chloe, of course, doesn’t initially go into this with the right intent in mind. when she was a kid she’s often try to dye her hair and draw marks on her skin in marker, claiming that she got her magic early. She wants the notoriety and fame that comes with being a Magical girl, and using the unfounded rumor that her family is actually descendant from the Founder herself as a reason why she DESERVES to get her magic early. of course, when her frequent target arinette is first to transfer out of their class due to actually BECOMING a magical girl, Chloe is pissed an flips a 180 on her stance, saying that being an MG is overrated anyway. then Cesaire transfers out too, then Lahiffe is asked to be their group’s manager. Chloe is so enraged by seemingly everyone around her becoming MG’s and not her, that whens he finally DOES get her magic she almost turns it down. especially since, for all her attempts to look like she got her powers early, they actually developed in her a year LATER than they should have. Straight up when she comes to class the next day to boast her ACTUAL magic, nobody belives her, thinking she simply put in yellow eye contacts. her hair doesn’t look particularly darker than it was before, her scleras don’t turn black until she’s transformed, and her mark is barely visible when stood against her skin. She ends up on Team Miraculous initially out of necessity, but that’s only the START of her character arc.

Chloe’s magic is more similar to Queen Wasp than Queen Bee. not unlike Alya she has a swarm of bees at her disposal, magic bees of course, they in fact help her fight. her most notable move is sending them swarming on monsters. But instead of paralyzing anything, the bees will turn into small lightning bolts, turning into an inescapable fury. She probably COULD use her bees to paralyze a monster, but that’s more being a team player than Chloe can do right now.

And Finally Kagami. Kagami is also as she always was. a long standing family, rumored to have had Magical girls in the line since Magical Girls first came about. The eldest daughter in every generation of theirs has become a Magical girl, and that runs true again in Kagami. She was groomed form childhood to fight, learning swordsmaship, archery, fighting with a bo staff, and learning any and all magical theory. her family are one of the ones that worship the deified idea of the founder, so it’s no surprise that Her Mother’s first step after Kagami becomes a magical girl is to get her registered and enroll her at Future’s Promisce. What she DIDN’T expect was her mother to dump her off at the dorms, give her a quick ‘behave yourself’ talk, and then leave. Kagamis’ mother was the second oldest, the only reason she inhereited the family name was the fact that her sister had died long ago. Kagami justifies being arguably abandoned at age 14 with her mother holding a secret resentment toward magical girls. The magic that took her sister away, and threatens to take her daughter too. That’s why she traiend Kagami but then sent her away. that’s why her life makes sense. She’s initially against joining Team Miraculous, that None of the Tsurugi’s before her had ever been in a team. But through her own lonlieness, about two years after she got her powers, she gives in and lets herself go from ‘Dragon’s Fang’ to ‘Miraculous Dragon’

Kagami’s got the sharpest deviation from her Canon power. I really coudln’t think of a way to make the Magic aspect work, so the best I’ve got is the transformative aspect. That’s right, Kagami’s magic lets her literally transform into a dragon. She has a sword to fight with when not transformed but the bulk of her magic is in the dragon form. She’s a mix of japanese dragon and western dragon, I don’t have the design finalized yet, but she’s got fire breathing and gold aesthetic, but also more directly japanese looking in design.

And as a bonus for sitting through all of this absolute garbage:

Nino, long time friend of Marinette’s was asked to be her team’s manager when they realized they couldn’t represent themselves.He instantly clicked with Adriana and became best buds. After which he was given the honorary title of Miraculous Turtle.

As a deal with Mr. Agreste for him not to hire a more experienced manager, Nino has to look presentable when doing managerial things. That means a suit. He can wear the hat and headphones, mostly because he hides them when They’re going to grab Adriana at around 9, but he has to wear a suit if he wants anyone to take him seriously.

#Miraculous Ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien Agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #Kagami Tsurugi #Crossovers are neat #sleepless domain #no seriously go read the comic i cannot do the brilliance of the worldbuilding justice in ONE tumblr post #Nino Lahiffe #kinda #he's just an Omake so idk if he counts #crossovers #Team Miraculous

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fanfic-from-a-67-impala · 6 years

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Characters: Charlie Bradbury x reader, Jen (OFC)

Word Count: 3805

Summary: When you move to Kansas for a fresh start and start working at a hospital in Topeka, you take over the case of one Gertrude Middleton, a 15-years-brain dead patient with no known relatives.

Warnings: a small amount of angst, slight canon divergence if you squint

A/N: Here's one in celebration of the woman who brought Charlie to life. Happy birthday, Felicia Day!

Trudging through the fluorescent-lit hallway, you yawn widely, dabbing at the water in your eyes with the sleeves of your white lab coat.

"Hey," Jen greets from behind the nurse's station, her smile annoyingly enthusiastic and her maroon-colored scrubs annoyingly bright. "How was your first week?"

"Exhausting," you sigh.

She plucks a clipboard from the desk and hands you the chart. "Good thing you've only got one more."

"Who is it?"

"Room 628. Gertrude Middleton. Car accident resulting in head trauma turned—"

"Turned to PVS," you finish.

She raises her eyebrows. "That was quick for a newbie."

You frown. "I remembered her because I couldn't make heads or tails of why we're still keeping her alive."

"She's been receiving anonymous donations to fund her care," Jen explains, "but as you can see..."

"Persistent vegetative state for fifteen years. She's gone."

Jen nods.

"Any next of kin?" you ask.

"Just a daughter, but I haven't seen her in years. Dr. Buckner didn't even round on her more than once a week. She's had no brain activity in a year."

"Well, I'd like to keep this job, thanks," you remark.

She chuckles. "Suit yourself."

You plod down the hall again until you reach the door with the numbers 628 printed on the label.

Your hand barely grazes the lever of the door knob before you hear a woman's voice piercing the door.

Peering through the narrow window, you see a woman with red hair, the same shade as Gertrude's, perched in a chair, her back to you. She holds a book open in front of her and reads from the pages.

You consider calling security. After all, visiting hours have ended. But you decide that anyone who would take the time to read to a brain-dead woman in such a sweet voice wouldn't do any harm.

The woman raises her head, the book dropping to her lap, and turns.

You dart to the side, pressing your back against the wall. As you dash down the hall, you almost wish you had seen her face. You imagine she has a pretty face.

For almost a month, you check on Gertrude at the end of the night. You sneak up on the room, listening for any sound and peeking through the window for the red-haired woman.

You've lost hope of ever seeing her again until one night, paused outside the door, you hear her voice.

The door distorts her voice, but you carefully turn the handle, and the melodic words of The Hobbit rush over you.

"'...the eagle came back, seized him in his talons by the back of his coat, and swooped off. This time he flew only—'"

The door clicks closed behind you, and she jumps up, snapping her head to you, eyes wide.

"It's okay." You hold your hands out to the side. "I won't say anything."

She eyes you warily, glancing around the room—searching for a way out, you assume.

You nod to Gertrude's bed. "You're her daughter, aren't you?"

"Who are you?" she demands.

"I'm Dr. (Y/N). I took over your mom's case after Dr. Buckner retired last month."

Slowly, she drops her shoulders, but she still clutches the worn book to her chest.

"Look, I'll leave you alone in a few minutes," you promise. "I just need to check on a few things."

She doesn't say anything, but you feel her eyes follow you across the room to the side of the bed. You study the monitor and scrawl on the chart in your hand, almost missing the words when she finally does speak.

"I'm Charlie."

You turn your gaze up and smile slightly. "Hi, Charlie."

She settles into her seat again and pushes a lock of bright red hair behind her ear. Against it, her fair skin glows with the moonlight flooding through the window.

"I'm really sorry about your mom," you say.

Her wide-eyed expression quickly turns to a scowl. "She's not dead," she snaps.

You draw back in shock, horrified at your own words. Without another word, you close the chart and back out of the room, closing the door behind you.

Weeks have passed before you see Charlie again. She jumps when the door opens but relaxes when she sees you.

"Hi," she murmurs.

You give her a small smile. "Hi, Charlie."

She turns her head down into her book while you flip through the chart, though you can feel her eyes on you when you look away.

"I'm, uh—" she clears her throat— "about what I said before, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry if I sounded, you know, harsh."

She meets your eyes with her nervous ones.

"That's okay. I understand. You're not exactly the first person to yell at me."

"Right," she nods. "I guess you must get that a lot, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah. It's kind of part of the job description."

"How long have you been working here?" she asks with more of a curious tone than a "questioning your qualifications" tone, like you've grown used to.

"It's been a couple months now," you answer. "Before that, I practiced for a while in Oregon."

"Wow," she says. "You're a long way from home. What made you move?"

You pause, finding the right words.

Her eyes go wide. "You don't have to answer that. Sorry, it's none of my business."

"No, it's all right," you assure her, leaning against the ledge of the window. "It was a small town. I just... I needed to get away."

"So, you moved to Kansas?"

You chuckle. "I guess I didn't think that one through."

She hums in agreement. "Still, I get it."

"Yeah?"

As she nods, she smiles—really, genuinely smiles—for the first time since you met her, and you're not prepared for it. You're not prepared for the way her shy green eyes flutter closed, or the way her lips part to form the slightest dimples in her smooth skin.

Her cheeks tinge with red, and you realize you've been staring.

You blink away, straightening the papers on your clipboard. "Well, I'll leave you to it."

As you start for the door, she stops you. "Would you maybe—I mean, if you have the time—could you stay?"

You nod.

When you find her in the room the next month, she doesn't move at the sound of the door, only lies still, sprawled over the chair, her book fallen closed in her lap.

As you approach her, you watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and notice her closed eyes. Though a voice in the back of your head nags that you shouldn't, for a moment, you let yourself stare. Your eyes drift over the curve of her neck, the bow of her lips, the waterfall of red cascading down her shoulders.

You kneel down and brush a stray lock of her bangs into place.

"Charlie?" you hum, a hand lightly squeezing her shoulder. "Charlie."

Her eyes fly open, and she shifts in her seat, rubbing her palms against her eyes.

"What time is it?" she slurs.

You turn your wrist to check the face of your watch. "A quarter to one."

She sniffles. "I have to get home."

"Where's home?" you ask.

"Michigan."

"Wh— You're going to drive across the Midwest in the middle of the night?"

She shrugs.

"No, why don't you... stay with me?"

She looks up at you. "Really?"

"Mm hmm," you answer. "Please, you'd give me peace of mind."

She runs a hand over her face and sighs deeply. "Yeah, that'd be good. Thank you."

"Sure," you nod. "I'll meet you in the garage in ten."

You finish penning the information from the monitor and return the chart quickly before packing up and crossing the floor to the parking structure.

The drive home is quiet, save the soft rock station over the speakers. You pull up to your building, and she follows you up the two flights of stairs, where you unlock the door to your apartment.

"Well, this is it," you announce, suddenly conscious of every speck of dust and every scuff mark on what little furniture you own.

"Cool," she muses, looking around, a smile on her face.

"That's nice of you to say," you mutter. "It's not much, but you're welcome here anytime."

She nods in thanks and wanders into the apartment.

"That's the bathroom down there—" you point to the room on the right— "and this is the kitchen. Help yourself to anything."

She yawns, pushing a hand through her bangs.

You extend an arm to the couch. "Here, sit. You must be exhausted."

As she settles in among the pillows and cushions, you drop your bags on the floor of your bedroom and open the closet doors, squeezing out a stack of extra sheets and a pillow.

"So, I go in around eight tomorrow morning," you call from your room. "If you want, I can take you back to your car. Or you can hang out here for the day, if you've got the time. Or—"

When you return to the living room, you find her sleeping on the couch, her feet tucked under her, her head resting on a pillow, arms curled around it.

The sight brings a smile to your lips. You place the stack of sheets at the opposite end of the sofa, pull a blanket over her, and click off the light.

After another long day at the hospital, you trudge through your nightly routine and slide into bed. The minute your eyes fall shut, a pounding at your door startles them open.

When another round pierces through heavy drumming of rainfall outside the window, you bury your head in your pillow, willing the knocker to give up and move on.

More knocking, joining a clap of thunder.

You drag yourself over the edge of your bed and stagger to the door.

Outside, Charlie stands doubled over, one arm supporting her against the doorframe. When she looks up at you through her dripping wet mop of red hair, you can see a trickle of blood running down her chin from a cut on her lip.

"Charlie?"

It's been a week since you last saw her. Since she first stayed over, she visited again the next month, then a few weeks after that. The two of you fell into a rhythm for those days she was here.

"Hey," she pants.

You slip an arm under hers, and she leans heavily on you, the sleeves of her jacket soaking the shoulders of your night shirt.

She groans as you lead her to the couch, and you help her onto her back.

"Let me take a look." You say the words like a question.

She looks down at her arms, which clamp around her stomach protectively, and releases them.

You unzip her sweater and peel away the soaking fabric of her shirt. Purple bruises stain the pale skin where her ribs cast ridged shadows.

"Sorry," she mutters between shallow breaths. "I know it's late. I didn't know where else to go."

"Don't worry about it," you order. "Charlie, what happened to you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she says.

You run your eyes from her cut lip to the discoloration on her stomach to the blood staining the hem of her jeans.

"This may hurt," you warn.

You drag your fingers along her swollen ribs, feeling carefully for breaks along the bones.

She whimpers into the pillow.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "Nothing's broken, just bruised. I'll be back in a minute."

When you return, you hold a glass of water, a bottle of pills, and a large towel of ice, which you set on the coffee table.

"Can you sit up?" you ask.

She nods and braces her hands on the edges of the cushions, groaning as you help her upright. You swing the stethoscope from around your neck and press it to her back.

"I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay?" you say.

She winces as you hear the whooshing of air filling her lungs.

"I know, sweetie. I know," you murmur, holding out the glass of water and shaking two tablets of painkillers into her hand. "Here, drink."

Once she's swallowed the pills and gulped down the water, you lay her back down and place the towel of ice over her ribs. She sighs at the touch, and her breaths even.

You look over the rest of her body again to check for anything you missed. Satisfied, you kneel down beside the couch.

"You're a hunter, aren't you?" you breathe.

She snaps her panicked eyes up to you. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"It's okay. I've seen these kinds of injuries before," you say softly. "So, what was it? Vengeful spirit? Demon? Shifter?"

"Uh, spirit," she answers. "How do you know about this stuff?"

You clear your throat. "I kind of grew up with it. My parents were hunters. My dad died when I was little, so my mom raised me in the life. We were on a witch hunt when she got killed."

"I'm sorry," Charlie says.

"It was a long time ago," you shrug. "And it wasn't all bad. I got out, went to med school, became a doctor. Old contacts still stop by once in a while when they need to get patched up."

She chuckles. "Well, I guess you can add me to the list."

"Think I've got room for one more," you say.

She opens her mouth to reply, but a yawn cuts off her words.

You brush away a lock of damp hair from her forehead, and she leans into your hand.

"Get some rest," you hum. "I'll see you in the morning."

She stays until the end of the week. One morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee wafting through the air and Charlie standing in the middle of the kitchen, fully dressed.

"You heading out?" you ask sleepily.

She nods. "Think I've overstayed my welcome."

"Mm, never," you assure her.

You almost tell her to stay, to be here for just a little while longer, but instead you settle on: "Don't be a stranger."

"Right." She swings her bag over her shoulder but hesitates with her hand on the door knob.

"You okay?"

"I just, uh..." she begins. "Do you, maybe, want to go out to dinner sometime? With me, I mean? When neither of us is bleeding or smells like hospital?"

You smile at her. "I'd like that."

She sighs, her shoulders slumping with relief. "Okay."

"Well, you've got my number, so..." As you speak, you inch closer to where she stands by the door.

She gulps, taking half a step toward you. "Yeah, I'll do that."

You lean into her slowly and lift a hand to the small of her back. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll..."

Her words fall away, and you catch them with your lips. Her bag drops to the ground with a thump, and she melts against you. You hold out an arm to brace the both of you against the wall while she traces her fingers through your hair.

You break away too soon, gasping for air.

"See you, too," she pants, scooping her bag from the floor.

The door closes behind her, and you lean your head back against the wall, laughing softly to yourself.

You can't keep the smile off your face all day. Your steps feel lighter, even in the usually grim halls of the hospital.

"Someone's in a good mood," Jen comments.

You shrug, still grinning. "Just woke up on the right side of the bed, I guess."

The intercom system beeps with an incoming message. "Dr. (Y/N), you've got a 9-1-1 call to room 628. Dr. (Y/N), 9-1-1 to room 628."

Your stomach drops. You don't wait to glance at Jen before sprinting down the hall to Gertrude's room, where nurses pull a red crash cart through the door.

"What happened?" you shout over the buzz of activity.

A nurse holds defibrillator paddles out to you, and you grasp them. "She started coding."

Jen rips open Gertrude's hospital gown and makes room for you to press the paddles against her ribs and chest. The other nurse holding the Ambu bag to her mouth removes it when you yell the warning.

As you resuscitate her, you avoid looking at her face. It only reminds you of Charlie, who you need to push far from your mind now.

You sit in the darkness of Gertrude's room, resting your head in your hands.

The door opens, and Charlie slips in, glancing over her shoulder. "Just couldn't wait to see me, huh?"

The smile fades from her face when her eyes land on the machine next to her mother's bed, connected to her mouth.

"What's that?" she asks hesitantly.

"Charlie, something happened today." You stand up and lead her to the side of the bed. "Your mom's condition got worse."

She runs her eyes over the machine and the wires in horror.

"This is a breathing tube," you explain. "It's hooked up to this ventilator, which is pumping air into her lungs. It's the only thing keeping her alive."

Tears well in her eyes as she sinks into the chair next to the bed, gripping her mom's hand.

"What does that mean?" she whispers.

You sit down in the seat next to hers. "It means the chances of her waking up have declined even further."

She bobs her head, her eyes unfocused.

"I know this is a lot to process, but it's time to consider her options here."

"Options?" she asks.

You take a deep breath. "She hasn't been conscious in fifteen years—not really."

She shakes her head before you finish speaking. "No, she could still wake up."

"It's highly unlikely," you say. "I know you want to hold onto her, but she wouldn't want to live like this."

"You didn't know her," she snaps, looking up to glare at you. "You can't know that."

"Yes, I can. Because no one wants to live like this."

"No, you're wrong," she insists. "She's still in there. She has to be."

The fire in her eyes dims, revealing a raw, hopeless desperation.

"She's all I have," she chokes.

You remember the feeling too well, when your mom was your best friend and hunting partner and everything in between. You remember the anguish you felt when she died, and how you would have done anything to see her again for even a day.

"I know," you murmur.

She settles into her seat again, her shoulders shaking. The hissing of the ventilator deepens the silence.

Months pass with the two of you falling into the same routine. You settle into each other, growing closer and more comfortable. You drive up to Michigan when you can, and sometimes you meet in the middle, but mostly she drives down to Kansas.

A year later, you stand above the nurse's station studying a chart when you spot Charlie across the counter, in the middle of the floor, out in the daylight.

She approaches you, biting her lip.

"Hey," you greet, pecking her cheek. "What are you doing here?"

She inhales deeply and sighs. "It's time for me to let go."

You study her face, but she doesn't waver.

"Hey, Jen?" you turn to where your friend sits from behind the counter. "Could you hand me a court order form for removal of life support, please?"

She opens a file cabinet. "Sure. For who?"

"Gertrude Middleton," you answer.

She glances up in surprise. Her eyes dart between you and Charlie, but she hands you the form on a clipboard without question.

You give her a nod in thanks and lead Charlie down the hall.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor lingers over the room like a ghost.

"Can I ask you something?" you say as she signs the bottom of the form. "Why the change of heart?"

She hands the clipboard back to you. "Gotta say goodbye at some point, right?"

"Right," you agree. "I'll give you two a minute."

As you turn to leave, she catches your hand with hers.

"Stay?" she asks. "Please?"

Setting the clipboard on the window ledge, you squeeze her hand and sit beside her.

She fishes into the bag on her lap and brandishes a worn, tattered book.

"One last time, okay?" she says to Gertrude.

She leans into your side, and you wrap an arm around her shoulders, running your fingers through her hair as she strolls through the first chapter.

"'Bilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams. It was long after the break of day, when he woke up.'"

As she closes the book and hugs it to her chest, you rise from your seat, offering her a hand up.

"Are you ready?" you ask gently.

She sniffles and nods.

You step across to the ventilator, switch it off, and detach it from the breathing tube. The beeping slows until the monitor emits a droning blare.

You turn back to Charlie, who claps a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shake as tears spill over her eyes.

You pull her into you, and she buries her face in your chest, sobbing into the collar of your lab coat. She rattles against your body while you rub circles along her back.

"It's okay," you hum into her hair. "It's going to be okay."

The next morning, you stand at your kitchen counter over a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. Charlie wanders out of the bedroom and next to you.

"Morning," you greet, pressing a kiss to her lips. "How you feeling?"

"Better," she says. "Is that awful?"

You reach up to sweep your fingers through her tangled bangs. "Not at all."

She lets out a soft giggle. "I thought I'd feel worse. I can't tell if I just haven't wrapped my mind around it yet."

"It's rough, losing your mom," you muse. "But you're taking it like a champ."

"It wasn't all bad," she shrugs. "I met you, didn't I?"

You bite your lip and nod. "Sure did."

She reaches into the cabinet for a coffee mug and fills it with the carafe.

You clear your throat. "I've got the day off. You have time to hang out a while?"

"I can stay," she says. "In fact, if it's okay with you, I could stay for a little longer? Like, you know, permanently?"

You break into a wide grin. "That's more than okay."

She raises her cup to her lips, and you stare at her in wonderment of the coincidences, the millions of choices, that led her to you. Most of all, you look toward the future, toward everything this new life will bring.

Find more stuff in my masterlist!

#Supernatural #Supernatural x reader #Spn x reader #Supernatural oneshot #Spn oneshot #Spn #Charlie Bradbury #Charlie Bradbury x reader #Charlie x reader #Felicia Day #Happy birthday Felicia Day!#oneshot #crimson and clover #wlw reader #writing is hard

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