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#mm. lets just say i dont play well with other medics and leave it at that i guess
triptychofvoids · 1 month
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HIII MEDIC any thoughts about the possibility of meeting an alternative version of yourself? Hecantknowabouttheothermedicblog
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where.
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breanime · 5 years
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Heartworm (Part One)
Guess who got her internet baaccccck! This gal! So @songtoyou sent me this request and I IMMEDIATELY started getting ideas. This could be up to or past 5 parts, I don’t even know! It all depends if you guys like it and want more! This is kind of a soft re-imagining of season 2.
Request:  How about instead of Billy going to his stupid psychiatrists place to seek refuge, he goes to the home of a girl who he was in a serious relationship with. Like, this girl is the only person Billy could ever see himself settling down with. However, once he got money, status, and power from Rawlins he pushed her to the side and eventually dropped her from his life. But once she sees the state Billy is in and how sad, scared and alone he is she wants to help him.
Part One is based on Halsey’s Without Me, particularly these lyrics:  
Found you when your heart was broke I filled your cup until it overflowed Took it so far to keep you close (Keep you close) I was afraid to leave you on your own
I said I'd catch you if you fall And if they laugh, then fuck 'em all (All) And then I got you off your knees Put you right back on your feet Just so you can take advantage of me
*gif not mine* (I gotta stop using this gif lol)
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You stood frozen in your living room, eyes glued on the TV. The news was saying that Billy, your Billy, was a murderous traitor and a danger to society. You watched as they showed footage of Billy’s apartment up in flames. They said he bombed it himself after killing a handful of Homeland Security agents, they also said that he hired mercenaries for his Anvil staff. The government seized his assets. He shot Curtis in the shoulder. He knew about Frank’s family. He set them up to be killed. Billy. Your Billy.
Except he wasn’t your Billy anymore; he hadn’t been your Billy for three years. You sat down on the couch, legs numb with shock, as you took in what the newscaster was saying about your ex-boyfriend, the only man you’ve ever loved. They flashed a picture of him on the screen. The caption read: “Armed and Dangerous, Do Not Approach”. The newscaster was saying something about Homeland and Frank going after Billy, but it was all starting to sound like white noise to you. Your mind said to get out of town and run until it was all over, but your heart wanted to reminisce, wanted to remind you why you even cared in the first place.
“…and I’m gonna have a Rolls Royce,” Billy said, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around your waist, “I’m gonna drive it to meetings, rich assholes love a power play.”
You smiled up at Billy, you loved listening to his grand plans for the future. “Are you gonna be a pocket square kind of rich asshole or a ‘Maureen, hold my calls’ kind of rich asshole?”
“Mm,” Billy pulled you closer to his naked chest, “I’m gonna be a pocket square kind of asshole,” he answered, “that’s the best way to run a business.”
“Of course,” you agreed, snuggling up against him, “you’re gonna be a big shot. And I’m gonna have to make an appointment with Maureen just to see you.”
Billy tsked and put a finger on your chin, lifting your face so you were eye-to-eye. “That ain’t never gonna happen,” his dark eyes bore into yours, “I’ll always have time for you.”
You smiled and pressed your lips against his. You felt Billy’s arms tighten around you, lifting you up until you were laying on top of him. You kissed him again, slowly parting your lips, inviting his tongue into your waiting mouth. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust when you pulled back. You rubbed your nose against his. “I love you.”
His smile made your chest heave with adoration. “I love you too, Y/N.” He kissed you again. “I promise I’m gonna make you proud one day, baby. I’m gonna get us outta this shit hole and out you somewhere nice, where you belong.”
You shrugged. Money and status meant a lot to Billy, meant success, but you were happy enough where you were. Yeah, your apartment was kind of small, and yeah, the heat stopped working every few months, but you’d lived in worst places. Besides, you had Billy. He made you so unbelievably happy; you could have lived in a cave—as long as Billy was with you, you’d be fine. “You know I’m already proud of you,” you told him, “You’ve accomplished so much already.”
“Mm,” Billy kissed the top of your head, “I can do more.” He kissed your nose. “I’m gonna get this security shit together.” He kissed your right eyelid. “I’m gonna get us a place uptown.” He kissed your left eyelid. “And I’m gonna make it so you don’t ever have to work again.” You sighed as he kissed your cheek next. “I ain’t gonna let anyone look down on us anymore.” He kissed your other cheek. “I’m gonna make you so happy, baby.” You felt yourself melt when he finally kissed you on the lips. “I’m gonna take care of us…
…I’m gonna take care of you.”
You turned the TV off, cradling the remote to your chest. You felt your breath getting shallower and casually recognized your erratic heartbeat. You didn’t know what to do. You believed the news—you weren’t sure about the details, but you knew Billy well enough to know that he would do anything for power. You had seen the change that money bought him firsthand, and you didn’t like it at all. You thought about calling Curtis, but you didn’t want to bother him. He was probably up to his neck in cops and paperwork and…Homeland Security, apparently. You wondered how it came to this. Frank was alive. Billy was a wanted man. Curtis was wounded. And you…were alone.
You spent the night on the couch, too numb and confused to get up. You dreamt of Billy and woke up shivering. You got up and made yourself a cup of coffee. Your phone was on the counter, and you frowned as you picked it up. You had missed calls from your mom, your best friend, your boss, and your sister. You had no desire to speak to any of them. You also had a call and voicemail message from an unknown number. Hitting the speaker button, you played the message.
“You’re gonna hear some things on the news.” Billy. “They’re true. I…I did all those things they say I have. By the time you get this message, I’m either gonna be on the run or dead.” It sounded like he took a breath before continuing. “I wanted to see you before I go, but…that’s not gonna happen. So just… Just know that I…” A sigh. “…I think about you all the time. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, a lot of bad choices, done a lot of shitty things, but… I only regret one thing: letting you go. I wish… I should have fought for you more. I should have…” There was some shuffling, and you thought Billy might have put the phone down for a moment. “Listen, they’re gonna say a lot of things about me, and people are gonna try to tell you that I’m heartless and evil, but I want you to remember…You loved me once. You’re the only one I could ever be honest with, the only person in this world who knows who I am. Just… Remember that. And… I’m sorry, Y/N. Goodbye.”
You stood in your kitchen and listened to Billy’s message for at least another 30 minutes. By the time you went back to the couch and turned the TV on, Billy was pronounced near-death and was being kept under constant surveillance at the hospital. Frank Castle was said to be ‘in the wind’ and Anvil was being torn down and all the profits split up. The news interviewed a medical professional about the chances of Billy making any kind of recovery. They predicted he would be dead in six months.
You turned the TV off and wept.
It had been nearly a year since everything went down with Billy. The coverage for Billy’s case had pretty much stopped after a month, and people were onto the next scandal now. Curtis had stopped by your place and told you that Frank left town. The visit had been brief, but he told you what Billy had done—confirming what you’d heard on the news—and said that his orders had come from someone named Rawlins. Rawlins, you understood, was dead. Curtis had word from Frank to tell you that he had been given a new identity by the government and was going to hit the road for a while. When you asked why he’d want you to know that, Curtis had just said: “you needed to know it was over”. You should have felt anger, or pity or sadness but… you felt nothing. You had been operating on auto-pilot, swimming in a thick fog of numbness, since Billy had been arrested. The last thing you could remember feeling, really feeling, was a deep and intense sorrow when you listened to Billy’s message. He had broken your heart, left you, and then revealed himself to be a monster and you…You were just tired.
“I don’t know what you want me to say Y/N,” Billy’s back was to you. You had barged into his office at Anvil, demanding to see him, but now that you were there… The way he was talking to you was cold and detached. His stance was rigid, his focus was on the recruits below him, not on you. This Billy—CEO Billy—was not what you had signed up for.
“I want you to say you’re sorry,” you said, “I want you to say you care.” Billy didn’t say anything. You clenched your fists. “Look at me, Billy.”
He turned. He was wearing an expensive three-piece suit and his hair was impeccably cut. His eyes, the eyes you loved, the eyes that looked at you with such care and affection, were hollow.
“What happened to you?” You asked, looking him up and down with disgust. “You never come home, you barely spend any time with me—”
“What do you want, Y/N?” He said, irritation clear in his voice. “I’m busy. I’m working. I’m trying to afford the penthouse we live in and the car you drive.”
“I bought my own car,” you reminded him, eyes narrowed as you glared at him, “And I work, too, but I make time for the people I love.”
Billy sighed, rolling his shoulders. “I told you, you don’t have to work.”
You sighed then. He was missing the point. “Billy,” you tried again, “I’m tired of this. I can’t keep being an afterthought for you. I need you.” You tried to look in his eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “I miss you.”
Billy walked over to you and put a hand on your waist. He pulled you towards him and kissed you. “I miss you, too,” his voice was husky as he moved his lips to your neck, “I know I’ve been working a lot lately, but we’re so close…”
You closed your eyes. You wanted to have a conversation, but it was hard to think of words—let alone form any—with his mouth on your skin. “Will you come home tonight?” You asked, breath short and voice heavy with lust.
“Mm hmm,” his hand slid to your ass as he kissed you again, “I’m gonna be all yours tonight.” He licked into your mouth and smiled when you moaned.
You felt his hardness pressing against your front and you deepened the kiss. “I don’t know if I can wait that long,” you whispered.
Billy chuckled and released you from his grip. You glared as you watched him walk over to his desk. He pressed a button on his phone and leaned over to speak. “Hold all my calls,” he ordered, smirking over at you, “I don’t want any calls or interruptions for the next hour.” He walked past you and you heard him lock the door behind you. His eyes were gleaming when he turned back to you and he looked like himself, like your Billy, again. His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Take your clothes off, baby. I want to spend some time with you.”
You sat up with a start. It had been months since you’d last dreamt of Billy. You looked around you and cursed under your breath. You had fallen asleep on the couch. No wonder you were off. You hadn’t been able to have a full night’s rest without sleep aids since…since Billy had left that message on your phone. If you didn’t take a pill before you went to bed, you would dream about Billy. You didn’t want to dream about him, you wanted to ignore the ache in your chest and the emptiness in your life and just… Get over it. Get over him. You felt a headache coming on, so you shuffled to the bathroom for a quick shower before bed.
Your mind kept going back to Billy as you got ready for bed; you remembered the strain in his voice in the message he left you, how he used to laugh when you stuck your cold feet on his back, the way he stared down at you as he shifted inside you, driving you wild. You could see his eyes, dark and expressive and so full of love when he looked at you, every time you closed your eyes. You gave up on sleep and went back to the couch, deciding to just spend the night watching horrible night time TV until you could get Billy out of your head.
You were finally getting into the Real Housewives marathon you had been watching when you heard a knock on your door. You glanced at your phone: it was 11 pm. Who the hell would be at your door at this time? You grabbed your phone in case you needed to call the police and stood on your tip-toes to look into the peephole. Your mouth fell open at the same time your phone hit the floor with a dull thump.
Billy Russo was standing in the hallway of your apartment. And he was covered in blood.
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I have the next two parts locked and loaded! Pleaaase comment and let me know if you want the rest. The more feedback I get, the more I update! Thanks for reading, and may Billian be with you.
BTW, I got the title from this “emotion that’s hard to describe word”:  Heartworm: a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.
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