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funkymeihem-fiction · 7 years

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The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure (Chapter 23-FINAL CHAPTER)

(This is the final chapter of my first Meihem story! And I thank you all so much for reading and following along. This may be the conclusion to their Outback adventures...but it’s not the end of the MEIHEM!

If you want, head on over to my new sequel to this story:

Hot Headed, Cold Hearted

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11796141

Thank you again!)

Their recovery had not been easy. Her insides had turned red and black and rebelled against her own body, the remainder of her hair had fallen from her scalp, her first attempts to eat real food had resulted in immediate and violent expulsion, and there had been nights of pain where there was no relief until she begged Angela to put her under, better to lose herself in sleep yet again than suffer any more. Junkrat and Roadhog never made any such requests, and endured the treatments with the same angry muttering and resigned stoicism with which they had faced other equally unpleasant things. Dr. Ziegler oversaw their medical recuperation with a keen eye, guiding them through their healing with the help of Ana and Lucio (Zenyatta’s offers of meditation and renewal arts had been swiftly and viciously denied) while Mei filled out pile after pile of paperwork explaining every minute detail of what had happened during their disastrous expedition into the wastes of Australia; often with Junkrat chiming in to not to forget to include some of the more ‘juicy bits’…though Mei wisely decided to leave most of his more scandalous suggestions out.

Winston and Bastion came with yet more paperwork (although this was a great deal more fun to fill out) about possible scientific excursions in the future, and her gorilla friend seemed both sincere and eager to possibly get out of the lab for a while himself, although he hoped it would go a little more smoothly than the mission to the Outback. Bastion had marked several dot locations on the world map, but merely tilted its head when asked what they were and simply pointed to them again, while Junkrat whispered suspicion and threats in the background at its strange behavior. And after that, they had a steady stream of visitors simply coming to see them; from Ana and Roadhog’s knitting club, Lucio and D.Va stopping by to play video games with Junkrat, and when Zarya had returned from a mission abroad, she had nearly crushed Mei in one of her all-encompassing bear hugs and had visited every day after that; with books, stories, and a Russian stew that she swore would make Mei feel better in no time.

Even Torbjorn had dropped by, though it was merely to drop off the newly repaired Snowball. He had painstakingly worked his way through and around Junkrat’s makeshift ‘repairs’, though even he seemed baffled by how it was functioning at all. The little drone’s AI had been transferred into a sparkling new blue hull, and its pixel eyes no longer sputtered or went randomly dead, and it no longer sounded like a flatulent oldworld modem when it beeped hello to her. Mei had been overjoyed to see it back to its old self, and it hovered over to nudge and hug into her arms…before promptly turning around and starting to flash more Mandarin curse words across its screen, aimed at Junkrat. She had been giggling too hard to really scold it as the two started fighting across the room again, and decided to leave her companions as their imperfect selves.

And they had been interviewed numerous times as they lay in their beds. Even Roadhog had been pressed for as much information as possible, though the old junker rarely offered more than his usual grunt or a shake of the head. When the dreaded questions came about Junkrat’s and Mei’s ‘relationship’, as they professionally called it, to Mei’s relief it amounted to little more than a few awkward inquiries as to their mutual consent. Winston never mentioned any more accusations of Stockholm Syndrome, and instead spent most of that interview cringing and trying to avoid any more of Junkrat’s winking and bragging about his self-proclaimed ‘irresistible animal attraction, sheer virility and amazing sexual prowess, an absolute vision in the nuddy, and hey are you writing all this down?’ while she hid her face in both hands and wished that the radiation had killed her to spare her the embarrassment.

But that had been months ago. Things were starting to get back to normal.

Her hair was starting to grow back in now, and Symmetra had kindly trimmed it into a feminine bob for her so she no longer looked like a shaggy mess. The color had returned to her face, her lungs no longer hurt when she breathed, and she had regained some of the weight she’d lost during her months of ice and fire in the desert. She was beginning to look and feel like herself again, and now she could smile when she brought up the eco-monitor program, watching the red blobs of the radioactive storms roll across the wastes. And though Overwatch couldn’t publicly take credit for her work and she had to remain a mysterious benefactor, Winston had let her know that the early warning systems she’d programmed were now a mainstay in the lives of the Outback’s inhabitants and was already saving lives.

She had helped. Despite everything, she had helped. She still couldn’t say if it had all been worth it. There was still something small and poisonous and black lurking somewhere in her, something even Mercy’s medicine couldn’t fix, something that made her angry and hurt every time she started really thinking of things…What a cost she’d paid…

But it was over, and she had helped.

***

The sweet breeze of the ocean air of Gibraltar felt cool against her face and ruffled the ends of her hair against her cheeks, bringing some small relief from the hot sun. She sat on one of the far rooftops by one of the communications tower, listening to the crash of the waves and the shrieking gulls as she scribbled in one of her personal notebooks.

“Tried to read your diary there one time, ya know. Your lil’ journal thing?” Junkrat was laying stretched out on a towel a small distance away, his mechanical limbs discarded nearby and a comically large set of sunglasses on his nose as he lay basking in the sun. Like Mei, he had recovered and was looking his old self again. His own hair had grown out at a record pace, even over most of his bald spots, and his eyebrows were as mysteriously bushy and healthy as ever, as if they had grown back overnight.

“Oh?” She looked up from her writing, glancing over.

“Real smart of you to encrypt it all in Chinese, love, real smart.”

She smirked and went back to scribbling. “Do you want me to write some in English for the next time you decide to spy on me?”

“Sounds great. Be a doll?” That familiar toothy grin spread across his face, tucking the stump of his arm under his head. “Mostly I just wanted to see if you ever wrote about me. You know, silent yearning from afar, who’s that mysterious man, maybe a kinda sexy intrigue? That sorta thing.”

“Well, I can assure you that that was really not what I was writing about you back then…It was probably best you couldn’t read it,” she admitted.

“Owch, darl.”

“Sorry! I mean, it wasn’t anything terrible, just…not the nicest, either,” said quickly. “But I’ve written more about you since then!”

He leaned up slightly, adjusting his sunglasses with suddenly renewed interest. “Is it real good?”

She smiled demurely, looking away. “It might be good. It’s a shame you can’t read any Chinese...”

“Owch again! That’s ice cold! C’mere, you.” He waved his good arm as she scooted a little closer, pulling her in. “I know that look. Somethin’ bothering you? Is it the pills? Is it your hair? I like it short, looks real nice on you.”

She shook her head, laying down beside him with a little nudge to make room. “Nothing. It’s just hot out.”

“Pft, this ain’t hot. Still, you wanna go in?”

Another shake of her head, closing her eyes against the sun. “It just reminds me of being back in that little house again, back in the desert. For a while there I kept thinking I would wake up and be back in that shack. It’s just like when I would wake up and think I was back in…back when it was cold instead of hot. Jamison, are you…Are you glad we came back?”

“Of course I am! They saved ya!”

“But…are you glad? That we’re back here? I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m asking…”

His gaze turned a little wary behind the lenses of his goofy glasses, his bushy brows furrowing slightly. He was silent for a long moment, shifting restlessly atop the towel, before replying with a low “Well, that’s a bonzer of a question, ain’t it? Arright look, I know you ain’t actually asking me, you’re asking you. But! For what it’s worth, my answer is…’I don’t know’. You got no idea how much this place pisses me off, most of the time. But, it ain’t all bad. Got my own place, food whenever I want it, getting paid by a monkey to blow things up, and they got the doctorin’ facilities that saved my most favorite lady in the world…and then I got fucking bullied into the doctoring stuff too, might I add.”

“Oh, that wasn’t bullying!” She protested half-heartedly. “And I’m glad I did. I’m glad you’re better.”

“See! Then there’s something to be glad about! Yours truly! And I don’t mind saying that’s a lot to be glad of, you snagging the most handsomest and humblest bloke this side of Oz. Look, you don’t gotta figure out the answers all the time. And you don’t gotta be happy, neither. Sometimes things are shit, but it’s better than being attacked by bees, ya know? Dunno if I’m glad to be back. Just glad you’re here, wherever. And if you go trying to find whatever you’re trying to find, I’ll go with ya.”

There he was again, cutting through to the heart of the matter she could only ever dance around, blunt as always. He could blast a path of destruction wherever he went, and this was no different. No matter how many walls she put up, he was one of the only ones who could tear them down just as quickly. Sometimes it irked her, and sometimes it was exactly what she needed most, even if she couldn’t come out and say it. It hadn’t been the desert that had broken through her ice. Not really. It had been him. She’d been cold before, for so long, and it still felt like his body heat was burning even warmer than the sun above them. She could feel it against her cheek as she pulled in closer to his side, running her fingers up his side and feeling the sharp angles of his jutting ribs. “You’re awfully philosophical, you know. And maybe romantic. In an extremely odd way. I never would have guessed it before.”

His grin returned, leaning to press his nose to hers smugly. “Heh! S’truth!”

She had felt trapped here before, would probably feel trapped here again if she stayed too long…but it was nice, in its own way. It was a place at least worth returning to. How could she be too sad when the sun was shining, the birds were calling, and the sea was lapping gently so close by, and with her strangely charming companion smiling at her like that? Maybe it wasn’t ever going to be her idea of home, but maybe she’d been too hard on it.

Maybe she’d been too hard on a lot of things.

She was distracted by a pair of lips on her jaw and neck, starting to creep downward, and she squirmed as he started to roll on top of her, pressing both hands to his bare chest to keep him at bay. “Jamie?”

“Too much thinkin’! Live in the now! Give your brain a rest, lovey. Lemme help get your mind off your troubles, eh? We got a good thing going here, and I’m gonna enjoy every second of it. And I plan to make you enjoy it too, multiple times, kinda like last night…How bout I wind you up until you’re ready to explode? Lemme show you one of my newest and most favorite specialties…”

“Lewd!” she gasped, even as she leaned her head back to give his lips more access to her throat.

His hand was just starting to slide down her side when both their communicators went off at the same time. Her shoulders slumped a little in disappointment and Junkrat cursed loudly, but moved off her so she could roll upright, struggling to get her hair in order. She still wasn’t used to it being so short, but at least he said he’d liked it this way? Clearing her throat, she activated her comm, seeing the icons of other agents lighting up one after the other. “Zhou Mei-Ling and Jamison Fawkes present.”

Winston’s gruff voice piped up on the other end. “We’ve just had call go out that Talon has made another advance into Oasis. I want following agents; Pharah, McCree, Genji, Mercy, Mei, Junkrat and Roadhog, Symmetra, and Zenyatta to mobilize immediately. You have an hour before the Orca is fueled and stocked, get ready to move. Over.”

Mei groaned audibly as she clicked her affirmative response. “Another desert? I was hoping for something a little more…snowy? I’m going to get another awful sunburn on top of my other sunburns, I just know it.”

Junkrat snorted, strapping his prosthetic into place on the stump of his thigh. “Well, don’t be too hasty about the snow thing, lovey. But ugh, sending us into the middle of posh bot central? S’the only place worse than Numbani. Makes me sick.”

She thought for a moment, then pressed herself to his back and wrapped both arms around his narrow shoulders as he started to pull on his arm. “I guess it beats sitting around here wasting away in bed, or getting attacked by bees?”

He pulled off his sunglasses, his scowl soon replaced by his usual toothy smile as he rested his head against hers. “Now you’re getting the hang of things! Guess I might even be more careful this time, can’t stand the thought of another minute in that fuckin’ hospital ward again. “

“Good,” she leaned to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling herself upright. “I want you to take care of yourself out there. Although it’ll be nice to get back in the field again. I’ve had lots of time to make adjustments to my endothermic blaster, now my icicles are sharper than ever. Time to show those Talon agents what we’re really made of!”

“Oh yeah, those blokes are in for it. You chill ‘em, I’ll kill ‘em, heh, get it? Oh, I’m liking this side of you…After we’re done with all that, might have to get you in one of them fancy-arse Oasis hotel rooms and wind you up, just like I said before.” His lanky body also heaved upward to stand, his height looming over her as he spotted a familiar, similarly giant figure slowly making its way across the field towards them. “Oi, there’s Roadie! Guess I’d better go start double-checking the frags and getting everything ready to move out…” He hesitated, seeing her pause again and look out over the ocean, although he couldn’t see what was in her eyes this time. But when he took her hand, she readily looked back to him. “If you need me out there, I’ll be right beside ya.”

She nodded slowly, and her smile returned. “I know.”

“And if you get pinned down in the field, just give me or Roadie a shout and we’ll be right there. From now on, I’m the only one allowed to pin you down!”

“Ugh, really?” She elbowed him lightly in the arm, and he elbowed her right back. “…You ready?”

Pulling her forward, he let her take the lead into their next mission. “Let’s go!”

#meihem #meirat #junkmei #fanfiction #a-mei-zing outback adventure #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #funkyfluff #funkymeihem #overwatch #sequel

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the-nerd-writer · 7 years

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The Final Straw Breaks- An Amelie LaCroix (Widowmaker) x Reader Story

Trigger Warning: Intense graphic depictions of torture and language.

Widowmaker, who has been slowly returning back to her Amelie LaCroix state through secret therapy and support through her s/o, has been assigned to torture the aforementioned s/o after Reaper found out that they were a double agent for Overwatch.

Characters: Amelie LaCroix, Widowmaker, Reader, Reaper (Gabriel Reyes), Mercy (Angela LaCroix), Genji Shimada.

Word Count: 2,004

“The tape is rolling, LaCroix. Time to work.” The tortured voice of Gabriel Reyes choked through the stereo system as Amelie stood behind a dented steel door. The aging lightbulb above her head flickered, its soul nearly extinguished. Behind those doors, LaCroix’s partner was strapped to a chair, their head wrapped in a rag and an assortment of blades by their side. Intelligence had come into the Talon headquarters that brought Reaper to the conclusion that the newest operative, who had only been on base for a couple of months, had been colluding with the newly resurrected Overwatch. It was time for Reyes’s former allies to learn a lesson. Unbeknownst to the Talon organization was the steps towards her former self that ‘Widowmaker’ had taken. Amelie LaCroix was beginning to see the light of day; the assassin pulled her punches just a bit more, and she ‘missed’ a shot intended for Lena Oxton. Amelie was back, and it was mostly to do with the operative sitting in the damp room on the other side of this door.

Plans had been discussed, but never finalized, for this sort of situation. You assured Amelie that everything was going to be okay, and that nothing like this would ever happen… but here you were. Was LaCroix to take on the Widowmaker persona and shred you to pieces, or reveal her steps back towards humanity and abandon Talon?

A sharp buzzing shook LaCroix from her thoughts. Taking in a deep breath, and focusing her mind, Widowmaker took a step into the room.

The sharp buzz of phosphorescent lights pierced through the silence. Lights were on, it seemed, but nothing was to be found by your eyes. The last thing that echoed through your mind was being thrown into a helicopter, your apartment being broken into by fellow Talon operatives. What did they think they were doing? Unless… no.. no one would have said anything. Not even..

A door opened to your left, and the familiar sounds of Amelie’s boots damaged the quiet. Slowly, methodically, she stepped towards you. Her pacing stopped just to the right of you, and the shuffling of cold steel began to whisper from a tray nearby.

“Now, (y/n), our intelligence has been able to datamine several documents to you from Overwatch Headquarters. It seems that you have been in contact with both Morrison and Winston… is this true?” Widowmaker’s tone was usually aggressive, passionate, unending. But now, her voice seemed to break, just occasionally. You knew that your Amelie was present, not Widowmaker, but did Reyes? Your mouth ran dry, your throat flexing while attempting to put words together, but nothing happened.

All in an instant, your vision returned, the burlap strip over your head removed in a flash. Widowmaker stared down at you menacingly, her eyes showing no emotion. It was more than likely that there were cameras trained everywhere around the room, watching not only you, but her. The gateways to her soul were indecipherable, a strong facade from years of training. Somewhere deep inside, she must have been feeling remorse. She must have been feeling pain. Right?

With one hand, Widowmaker gracefully extended her arm outwards towards the nearby side table, fully stocked with instruments of… torture. Her fingers found their home around a matte black combat knife, about the length of your head. Tracing the edge with her glove, her eyes flicked towards you. Still no sign of Amelie. Only the merciless assassin.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. My commanding officer can confirm, I have been nothing but loyal and obedient to the cause, ever since my first day here.” You managed to sputter as you, too, gazed at the knife. Amelie made a sound of sarcasm, of finding out something incredibly unimportant, then plunged the blade into your right calf. As the knife ripped through skin, muscles, and finally lodged into your bone, your vision went white. Nothing, no matter of training from either side had prepared you for this amount of pain. Flaming hot jabs of pain jetted upwards through your leg, the scream slipping through your tightened lips. Nothing could compare to the feeling you were feeling… not yet.

As tears poured down your face, the face of your beloved appeared before you. Her eyes wide and knowing of the pain you had just experienced, the confusion you must be feeling, it all weighted down upon Amelie. But just as soon as she appeared, she faded away once more. With unremorseful eyes, Widowmaker plunged the knife once more into your body, this time in your other leg, twisting with such ferocity of a lion tearing apart its prey. Flesh gave way to the blade’s vicious yanking, unveiling the shreds of your remaining muscles and the carved away bone. Pain was all you could feel. Nothing but your body screaming out to move, move, move, but your restraints prevented you from escaping the hellhole. Cut by cut, the assassin demolished your left thigh as your brain tried its damnedest to block out the suffering. Faintly, almost from a distance, you heard Widowmaker’s interrogation lines; the usual. “Who are you really working for? How long have you been in contact? What have you told them?”

Speech was impossible to form. Your lips frantically flapped, your stomach churning and desperately trying to get something, anything out to prolong a break in torture. You wouldn’t give them anything, but keeping them busy for longer, no matter how short, could help you survive. But nothing came. Nothing but a gut-wrenching wail of assorted pitches.

The knife was removed from your leg. Don’t look. Don’t look. No matter what you do… don’t…

It looked like the mouth of a volcano. The dark red flesh around the entry wound had been carved away, leaving a hole the size of an apple. You could see the stained bone. Your bone. The feeling in your left leg has gone… oh my god… you couldn’t move it. You couldn’t feel anything. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

Across from you, the shell of your love chuckled at your weakness.

Using the majority of your dwindling strength, your neck craned up to look into her eyes. It would compromise everything, but you had to try to get Amelie back.

“Amelie.. pleas-” You managed to sputter before falling into a darkness-enveloped slumber.

A chorus of cinnamon and sugar cookies scents folded their way into your nostrils. A soft light glazed over you, a warm fabric folded over you.

Fuck, were you in heaven?

No. Flickering your eyes open, you analyzed your surroundings. A ceramic vase filled with daisies and lilies sat on a stainless steel table at your feet. Bed. You were in a bed. The blue blanket covering your legs revealed the logo of Overwatch, emblazoned in pure white and golden orange. Safety. Fuck… you were out. You were safe. Or were you?

As doubt began to nestle back into your conscious, Angela Ziegler rushed into the room, clipboard in hand, followed by several assistants.

“My goodness, I am so sorry! I stepped out for one moment, and look where it got me,” the flustered doctor apologized, stepping towards your bedside. “You were brought in in a state that was beyond your usual case of wartime injuries, but thanks to our team, the bleeding ended.”

“My leg.. My, my l-l-leg.” You never stuttered. Your heart monitor was keeping a frantic tempo, your arms pulsing from the blood rush.

“I… my dear, my news is not what you would desire to hear. The leg.. It is..” No. No, god, please don’t say it…”

“Unhealable.”

Sleep came in waves. Nothing could erase the.. The…

Fuck, you couldn’t say it. What had happened? You had gotten out.. How?

Asking Angela didn’t help; confidentiality was all she muttered. Morrison said mum, as he had a team to lead, and while he cared about your well being, could not offer much support when it came to emotional damage. The only person who could answer your question was… was…

Right there.

Shit shit shit shit no no no no she couldn’t fuckng get in how coul-

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t move, your leg was useless. She was back for more. Reaching for your bedside table, your memory tried to recall if anything was there to be used to defend yourself…

Upon looking around once more, you realized that you were safe. You were protected. She stood at the foot of your bed, but there were five soldiers scattered in the room, with Genji Shimada amongst them. This was arranged… this was planned.

“Mon amour… Je ne peux pas commencer… I cannot…” She couldn’t get a phrase out. Where you combined dozens of sentences into one mere days ago, she couldn’t pull together a single one. “After you blacked out.. I killed her. I pushed her down, so far down that she won’t ever, ever be able to see the light of day. The Widowmaker is gone, mon amour…” Amelie stood before you. It was evident enough in her posture, the straight-edge poison drained from her spine, causing her to become.. Human. “Once she was gone, I unhooked your chair from the spot and dragged you from the base myself.. The guards were… no match. Reyes tried to reach me, but it was no use.” She was trembling. Her left arm reached to her right elbow, gently rubbing circles into the woolen sweater she bore. “I called Winston as fast as I possibly could, I… I wrapped your leg and did exactly as I was trained… As soon as the ship dropped, you were whisked in, and I was barely able to make it… I was questioned and questioned and questioned for hours. ‘The Widowmaker is gone,’ I cried, ‘It is Amelie!’ Morrison, he… he was able to recognize me. He brought me here to… to..” She broke. Shaking, rattling, frantically sobbing, Amelie fell to the ground beside your bed. Her wails were so fast, so unending, that it sounded like she couldn’t breathe. You desperately looked around the room for help, eventually locking eyes with Shimada, who rushed over and brought LaCroix into a sitting position in a chair right next to your heart monitor. Her fingers were soaked in tears, the wrists drenched. She felt… she felt so many things.

“I know… I know that you can never… ever… forgive me for what has happened… for the…” She glanced at your sheet-laden leg and began to sob deeper. “I… left… Talon… for good… I… gave… all the… infor… mation… I have… to Winston…” Amelie couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t stop… “I… let the Widowmaker… consume me… but she is… she is GONE… she is so… so gone… and she will never return… even if Talon… took me in a hundred more times…” Her eyes finally made their way to yours, pink and swollen with regret and fear. “I love you, and I always will… I cannot…”

It was all one motion. You uncurled your hand from your side, the fingertips bending back to their fullest extent, your wrist offering itself to her. Amelie. Looking down to your hand, then up, then down, then up… she begged for your approval. The slightest nod released her tension, and she enveloped you into a massive hug, her right arm curling around your head and her left reaching from your waist up to your right shoulder.

“I love you, Amelie… we will find you the help to get the Widowmaker away completely… I want to spend the rest of my days with you.” Your voice cracked, and you began to cry as well.

You were safe. You were both safe, and neither of you would ever let go.

#Amelie #LaCroix #Amelie LaCroix #Widowmaker #Overwatch #Overwatch S/O Imagines #Overwatch S/O #Imagine #Imagines #Widowmaker S/o #Overwatch Widowmaker #Angst #SO MUCH ANGST #Torture #Fluffy Ending

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asryakino · 6 years

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There are weirdnesses that happen all the time in people’s lives.

Most often, they simply accept that it happened. Or they ignore it entirely. But they move on with life once more, eventually. Now and then something will -strike- as weird, as odd. As... unnatural. And it makes you question the world at large.

Today, I had one of those strikes.

What follows, could likely be the script for some supernatural show. I don’t know if the ending is happy, sad, or bittersweet. But I know I keep crying for one reason or another, and I don’t really know -why-.

A while back, I had a very rough time in my life. The few here who knew me then, or have had the... pleasure... of knowing me for that long likely remember me as being an annoying, prissy, whining little git. Needy and clingy to a fault, and full of blind niaeve optimism and energy that came from nothing and vanished into nothing. I’ve had pets since I was born. Literally. My parents got a fish tank and filled it with tetras and the like in order to stimulate my mind and give me a sense of empathy. As I grew up, the pets became more complex than fish and tanaks. I graduated from fish to hamsters, from hamsters to cats and have always had some sort of animal or plant to care for. Something living to share my world with. This is somewhat important to know because it sets the tone for the darkest part of my life. The second darkest point in my life, I should say. I’m an only child, and so, having something, even just a fish or plant, to care for was important to me. It was something to share the house with when my mum was gone. It was something alive, and living that I knew wouldn’t leave me alone in the world.

I’ve always been afraid of being alone. Though I never really realized that was the fear. I can’t be utterly by myself. I have to have even the illusion of a living thing, or I turn inward very quickly, and even as a child... inward has always been very dark. Around the time I graduated high school, 2003-04 (that’s another story) my life became complicated, and dark. My grandmother became very ill, at the same time I lost my long-time companion, a cat named Guido, and was quickly losing my second cat, George. They had been poisoned by the wet food we’d been feeding them, a bad batch of gluten and grains that wasn’t pulled and caused liver failure in Guido, and a slow kidney failure in George. My grandmother contracted an infection that ate away at her spine, eventually paralyzing her and by the time it was discovered, it was essentially too late. She died on the operating table and her children began a massive spat for the inheritance. My mum and I had actually cared for her all of my life, and several of the other children were demanding their share of the money, they inhibited the investigation into her death, and lost us the ability to find out what actually killed my grandmother. My mother was working two-three jobs, and I was alone most of the time. Either she was working or asleep. While I finished school and tried to deal with life and being a teenager on the cusp of true adulthood and getting into college. All while caring for an aged, dying cat.

The weirdness comes in that today, 12-19-2018, the vet clinic we’ve gone to for over twenty years is closing. The doctor is retiring and the nurses that remain are moving to a clinic on the furthest side of town from us. So I went to get the medical records of my current cats. The records should span for a dozen cats, seven of which live with me, three with my best friend, and one each at my dad’s and ex husband’s.

I got the records for sixteen.

The dozen I expected: Tutankhamen , Cleopatra, Cesar, Ramses, Isis, Osiris, Hecate, Freya, Phoenix, Ozymandias, and Imhotep.

Plus :: Kalifah, Fenris, Jaeger and Allie

Kalifah was a black and white cat that was clipped by a car, thrown into our yard, and came around the same time that George developed a life-threatening cancer. She amazingly got on with Guido, and seemed as though she was going to be able to keep the aging old tom company after his bond mate would have died. She didn’t have to. George somehow beat a cancer the size of a baseball, a canceer type that kills 95% of the animals it infects, and nearly 100% of the -cats- it infects. He survived, the cancer went into complete remission and Kali... vanished. She simply wasn’t in the house one day. She had gone to bed in her normal space, and she was simply... gone. No sign that she’d ever been in the house in the first place. I disregarded her medical records, realizing I’d forgotten to notify the vet that she’d been dead for over a decade.

Allie was a bit trickier to recall. But after looking over the record itself I remembered. Like Kali, she’d been struck by a car ahead of us. We gathered her up, wrapped her in a warm jacket and rushed her into emergency care. She was xrayed, tested, and the injuries she’d sustained had been too great, in addition to the fact she came back FIV and FLV positive. There was no mercy in allowing her to live with the injuries and the illness, and we had three cats that we couldn’t risk becoming infected even if she hadn’t been beyond saving. We left Allie Cat with the clinic, and they put her to sleep so she wouldn’t suffer further.

Jaeger was a flame point siamese, he and his brother Kaiju were picked up when they were about five days old, abandoned by “Slut-Whore” a queen who lives on campus and gets pregnant, only keeping kittens who are highly visible because she cons people out of more food when they see she’s preggers and/or with kittens. Kaiju was a dark tabby, and Jaeger was a flame point siamese, both were runts. They had behavioral issues, fighting with my established cats, and being bullied by Tut and the older cats. So my dad took them from me before I had them neutered. He refused to have them neutered in a timely fashion, and got angry with them for spraying in the house. Putting them outside and turning them into outdoor cats. Jaeger... was not suited for outdoor life. It breaks my heart knowing that I allowed them to live with someone who didn’t care for them, and even now, knowing that he likely died because I couldn’t save him tears my chest in half and knots my insides.

But then, there was Fenris.

Seeing my naming patterns, I can assure you that Fenris is a name I very much would give a cat. Especially if that cat were a black cat with big green eyes and scraggly teeth. But I don’t know this cat. The time on his records states that his first visit was in 2003, which was the same time that my life began to fall apart. It would hav ebeen just after Guido died, and when George was sick and when my Grandmother was alive. His last check in was in 2006. Three years later. Just before George died and a year before Tut came into my life.

The problem here becomes... I never had a black cat before I got Ramses. I have no recollection of a black cat, or any cat, during that time EXCEPT George.

The only thing I remember is how sick George was, and how sick Guido had been, the long nights in the hospital, and struggling to find a job or make my own money. I remember a cold empty house wherein I had nothing. No plants, no fish, no cats, no family.

I remember the nights wishing I had a pet and thinking how I was going to have to ask my mum about getting a new Betta fish or the like, just so I could have something alive in the house while she was working 16 hours a day. I recall long nights crying, and unable to sleep. I remember staring at the sky. I remember playing too many video games and becoming increasingly depressed.

But I have no recollection, not one iota of memory of a black short hair cat named Fenris.

That’s the weirdness. It’s as if something happened to him, or to me, and every memory was wiped out of him. I have no idea what he looked like, what he played like, or how he sounded. I have no memory whatsoever of a black cat named Fenris.

Yet, when I asked my friend if I had ever mentioned him to them. One said yes, I had, but it was a long long time ago. And my ex said he remembers me mentioning taking a black cat in during that time, but no other details.

The only proof that Fenris existed is in a medical record I didn’t know about, for a cat I can’t prove ever existed.... there are no pictures (I have at least one picture of every cat I’ve ever had, save for Allie) But... nothing of Fenris exists.

Either he removed himself from my life, entirely. He never existed, or something happened so horrible that I’ve wiped him 100% from my memory.

And yet... all I know is that I keep crying, my chest gets tight, and my head hurts, and I start crying tears that burn my face and leave red welts on my cheeks, which are the tears I usually cry when I’m depressed and in pain...

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