#and then pack this afternoon after i have my second med

[thefrostysoldier]

my tumblr experience has now returned to the 2012 experience of scrolling down my dash in the morning until i reach the previous night's posts and it's wonderful

#no more endless scrolling for me #it does kinda suck when i am in an adhd-depression mood and i don't have anything to do bc i automatically open the app #and there's nothing new #but that just forces me to either do something else or mope until i do something else instead of just mindless endless scrolling #i would spend HOURS mindlessly and endlessly scrolling and it was great but also made me feel Not Great bc it's not rly anything; u kno ? #idk #ANYWHO #i am caught up on tongl for the morning so now i have to get up and do stuff unfortunately #i gotta pack bc i am moving back home from uni for a couple of weeks before finally moving into the house for next year ! #i hate packing but am excited !!! #also i am gonna have to stay an extra day or so bc i REALLY need to clean after my room is empty bc it gets so shitting dusty in here #bc i live right near the train tracks #smh #i forgot what i was talking about #i might just watch or play something for an hour #and then pack this afternoon after i have my second med #my flatmate just went into the kitchen i might go scare him and ask to borrow some milk #text post #my posts

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

For Your Own Good

Another fanfic written at night on my phone because I didn't want to sleep away the idea. Enjoy the products of my insomnia. Remember to comment and reblog, they are so so important!

Contains: D/s dynamics, kink negotiation, safe, sane and consensual, Dom Simon, sub reader, spanking, praise kink, fingering, P in V, fluff, aftercare.

1.6K words

In trying to avoid worrying Simon, you break a rule and he has to deal with it.

"You need anything, Love?"

Simon always texted you before he left work to see if he needed to pick anything up from the store. Your aching, sprained ankle said yes but you knew him, if you told him about it, he make a detour to the big pharmacy in the other direction of your house and return home with half of it. Sure, the first aid kit was stocked, but Simon would insist on picking up better pain meds and fresh wrap.

"No, honey, I'm good." 

You reasoned your reply wasn't a lie, you'd be fine with some rest and ice, and it wasn't that bad, but part of you was worried that you should have said something.

When the door swung open, the ice pack was still on your elevated leg, and he took one look at you and sighed. "What happened?"

He was already at your side, kneeling by you so he could lift the ice pack up to look at the bruising. "Misstep into a hole in the grass, I didn't see it."

He was gentle as he assessed the damage, pressing and moving and touching until he had made up his mind. "Does it hurt?"

If you had said yes, he would have worried, so you lied, and your no was met with a less than gentle squeeze. "Bullshit."

He marched into the laundry and returned with the first aid kit in a huff. "You wanna tell me why you didn't ask me to stop by the store and get you stuff to fix this?"

That tone wasn't good, it was time for damage control. "It's nothing a little ice and time won't help. I didn't want to inconvenience you."

The look he gave you told you the battle was lost. "We have been over this four times y/n, it's my job to look after you." A finger pointed at your necklace drove it home. "That means none of your needs are an inconvenience."

He took a deep breath and placed the ice back over your ankle. "I'm going to get some better supplies and pick up some better meds so you're not tossing and turning all night when that really starts to hurt. After that, well, talk about how we're going to handle this problem of yours once you're all fixed up."

He pressed his lips to your forehead and held your face in his hands. "I'll be back soon, alright? If it really starts to hurt, you better call me."

You nodded. "I will. I love you."

He smiled softly and grabbed your hand for a moment. "I love you too."

*****

He was back home within the hour and back at your side the second he was in the door. "How is it?"

"It's…" You weren't going to get away with telling him it was fine and you would only make it worse for yourself if you did. "It's hurting a bit."

He was gentle as the first fall of rain in spring as he wiped the damp away from the melting ice pack and wrapped your ankle, his focus so tight that you were sure nothing would pull him away. When he was done, he held his hand out for you to stand up, watching carefully for a sign that you were hiding that it still hurt. "Better?"

You nodded. "Much, thank you."

He picked up the TV remote and took you into his arms as you sat down to watch the afternoon news, and you leaned into his embrace as he started to speak. "You know I'm going to have to punish you for what happened."

You sighed. "I know. I broke rule."

He pressed his lips to your temple as his thumb moved back and forth on your thigh. "That you did, love. I'm not mad, I don't think I could ever get angry at you, I just don't know how to get you to understand that looking after you isn't a bother to me."

You took a deep breath. "I know, but I'm not the only stubborn one in that regard, Simon."

He exhaled sharply. "Don't push your luck, love, that's why we have the rule that we have to speak up when something's wrong so the other person can help. Once your ankle is healed, we'll talk about your punishment, and I don't want this to happen again."

You nodded. "It won't."

****

The wait was two weeks, one for your ankle to heal and the other for Simon to feel like he wasn't going to hurt it again. It was a formal affair; he had cooked dinner and insisted you ate plenty, then treated you to a nice dessert. Then came the negotiation, sitting opposite each other at the table as you went over what was about to happen, Simon trying to reassure you that you could always say no and he'd think of something different.

Once you were both happy, he led you to the bedroom with a hand on your lower back before sitting on the end of the bed with his leg splayed. He watched as you undressed, removing each piece of clothing and placing them down neatly folded so you could redress once the night was over, leaving you in nothing by the necklace of one of his dog tags that signified your collar.

He lifted his hands from where they were rested on his thigh so you could lay, bent over in his lap, and one of his hands ran up and down your back while the other made its way to your backside. "Are you ready, love?"

He didn't want you to count, this was far more about dealing with a rule being broken than anything else. "Yes, I am."

The hand on your ass pressed a little firmer before his gruff voice filled the room. "Ok then." Each hit was the same: heavy, even pressure, he handed two solid smacks, then moved to the next cheek. You knew he was halfway done when he paused to rub your skin. When the hit started again, he bent slightly, reaching down to grab your hand and lift it onto the bed so he could hold it as his other hand reached its full intensity.

It was over when the first tear fell, betrayed by a heaving breath and a stutter. His hand had stilled, resting on your skin to calm the blood rushing to your flesh before moving to the other cheek and doing the same. You could feel his erection pressing into your leg and his hand slowly sliding from your backside to your core, letting you know the rest of the night was ready to start.

"I'm so proud of you, love, you took that so well." He chuckled when he found you slick, his chest rumbling with affection as his fingers slid through your slit. "My good girl, I think you deserve a thank you for how well you did."

Your legs twitched as he made contact with your clit, and you sighed as he started to work in small, focused circles. "Thank you."

He smiled and slid two of his thick fingers inside you as his thumb replaced his fingertips on your clit. "You don't need to thank me, love, I'm enjoying myself." You believed him, considering that each time you shifted on his lap and brushed his cock his breath hitched.

He focused on your G-spot, his calloused fingers drawing pleasure from your body with practised ease. It didn't take long for you to reach the edge, and your request for permission was cut off by Simon with his steady pace and deep voice. "You don't need to ask, lovely, just let go for me."

He worked you through it, waiting until you were trying to shift away from him before removing his fingers. You heard sucking sounds and twitched your head to see him with his fingers in his mouth. He shot you a charming smile and moaned. "Like candy."

He brought you up onto his lap, being mindful of your heated skin. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, and he moaned into your mouth as you reached down to palm his cock through his sweatpants. You stroked him a few times before shoving his pants down just far enough to pull him out and nipped his lower lips as you held him so you could slide down steadily until you were fully seated and his jaw was clenching with restraint.

You started to rock in unison, and there was an unordered jumble of limbs to get him as naked as you. He pulled you into his chest, and you relaxed in his arms as he took over the pace and poured sweet nothings into your ear as he angled his hips to brush your G-spot with each stroke. One of his massive hands left your back to run your clit, and his teeth touched your neck as he once again worked you towards orgasm.

"Come on, Lovely, on last one for me." He swallowed your moans as you came and then followed behind you with a feral grunt and his teeth in your shoulder. He let you catch your breath, one hand rubbing up and down your back while the other stroked your cheek and once he was satisfied, the world shifted as he moved you both so you were lying on your sides.

He pulled you into his arms and spoke softly against your forehead. "You did so well for me." You muttered, and he chucked warmly. "You rest, I'll clean you up in a little bit. You need anything from me?"

You shook your head. "No. I love you."

He pulled you in closer, half revelling in holding you half because the cold was starting to seep in. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @candy616

#simon riley/you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley/reader #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty smut

[clavissionary-position]

Clavis x Emma The Rose From Bed to Bouquet

tags: fluff, slight angst, some suggestive content

Clavis

I'd let Emma take me anywhere. I tell Cyran, Jin, hell, I even tell Chev, that I'm waiting for her to whisk me away. What man doesn't want to get lost in chaos and adventure with the love of his life? I don't just love her legs because of how soft and pretty and infinitely comfortable they are. She walked to me on those legs, and one day, I hope, she'll walk away with me. Somewhere far, farther than far. There's so much of the world I haven't seen, the world and its beautiful people and their beautiful lives. I want to show her and I want her to show me.

Surprise me. Don't let me see it coming. That'll be hard, but not impossible. I know and she knows that sometimes I can be... a little...

Anyway, I've already started packing. Revealing skirts, portable cooking set, shovels, med-kit, sewing-kit, a kit for making new kits, special toys. Cyran asks me if I have any self-awareness. He's already gotten bored and left the room by the time I think to answer what I assumed was a rhetorical question.

He's not wrong; is this supposed to be my surprise trip or Emma's? I deflate a little and plop down inside an empty lavender luggage like an oversized clown. I know what the problem is, but actually thinking on it stings as if I were pressing on an open wound. Not a big wound or anything, of course. Or it's that one wound again. The fear that...

Anyway, I'm almost done packing. Emma need not concern herself with this portion of our future someday trip. I am forever at her service, because she's passed every single test so far.

Emma

I can't help but feel my stomach drop a little when I accidentally come upon the small mountain of packed trunks and chests. Dammit, Clavis. Here I'd been, dreaming up plans for a wild, truly crazy adventure, something that would suit my wild and crazy lover. I was going to surprise him with it soon. I'd spent far too many afternoons giggling to myself as I imagined his face going blank and then blossoming into that sweet, beautiful smile that I loved. I hadn't told anyone else. I hadn't left any clues. It was all still in my head, so how did he-

I see a pair of familiar blue boots sticking out of an open trunk. Then I'm standing over him, looking down at him, wondering how he fell asleep contorted like this. Well, it's not that I don't know the answer. My troublesome king still doesn't let on how hard he works himself. I can only imagine all the extra load he took on just to have time to put this mountain of supplies together. I have to laugh, honestly, bitterly. You'd think he was preparing for the end of the world with half the stuff he has in here.

"Mm...a?" A warm hand latches around my thigh.

I flick him lightly on the forehead.

"Ow... don't do what Chev does...!"

I crouch in front of the trunk, reaching inside to loosen his cravat. His skin is reddish-pink where the fabric rubbed him while he slept. The white of his shirt collar is steeped in the sunset coming in from the round porthole to our right. He'd look like a doll shoved into a drawer if he wasn't so animated. His hand keeps finding my leg, my knee now, but the touch feels strangely innocent and vulnerable.

"I guess the secret's out," I say with a sigh that comes out heavier than I'd intended and yet lighter than what I feel. "How did you know?"

Clavis chuckles, still drowsy. "How could I not? After all, I am..." His brows furrow. "Wait, know what? What secret?"

I stare at him. He stares at me. Five or six seconds go by.

"About..." I venture carefully. I don't know why he would lie about this. "About... the trip I was... planning for us...?

Clavis' lashes catch the last bit of sun as he gives an exaggerated blink. "No... I was not aware that..."

I don't know how he finds room for both of us in this trunk, but he does. Two dolls in a sudden, wild and crazy embrace.

--- Thank you for reading! Inspo was Tom Sweterlitsch's writing style ^^

#ikemen prince #clavis lelouch

[oldbutnotyetwise]

Night Thoughts

     The last few nights I have been waking up in the early morning hours, usually between three and four.  I raise my hospital bed up to the seated position and take one of my ALS medications, hoping I am able to swallow it without choking.  I need to take two during a day, and they can’t be near eating times, so the middle of the night and middle of the afternoon is normally how I do it.   My hospital bed moves much quieter since I had Ravi my PSW lubricate the moving parts.  Prior to that all the creaking and groaning made it sound like a big old door in a haunted mansion every time I changed positions. 

     Normally I am able to get back to sleep but as of late sleep has been evading me in the early morning hours.  I lay there flat on my back because that is the only sleeping position available to me these days.  I watch all the city light seeping in through our windows and lighting up the bedroom walls to the point you would think it was dawn.  We are twelve floors up but still the city light reaches us, there is no escaping it.  As I lay there I see the occasional flashing lights reflect off the walls from the nearby fire station as the Paramedics respond to their next emergency.  Apparently they aren’t sleeping either.  I miss our home up north where the light seeping in our window was a softer, kinder light.  It told me how full the moon was or if it was cloudy, it was a soothing light.  City lights just seem cold and harsh.

     I close my eyes again, trying to block out the light but then I become more aware of the hum of the city.  They say the city never sleeps and I think they are right, maybe the city can’t get used to its own noise either. I can hear the passing traffic and a humming sound.  Not sure if that humming sound is from the city or from living inside a Condo, there is never silence here.  I do so miss the deafening silence that living on our farm brought us, I know this may not make sense to you, but the silence up north was quite loud, all enveloping.  The silence up north feels like being wrapped in a big warm blanket and sitting in front of a fireplace, feeling the warmth, as you watch the flickering flames.

     As I lay there I hear Robin stir from her sleep, I hear her slide open the drawer on her night table and a few seconds later I hear the familiar opening of the flap at the end of the medication box, then the crinkling of the foil and plastic medication wrapping as she retrieves her Migraine medication from it’s packaging.    This is not a good sign, it means her always challenging day is probably going to be even more challenging.  There is no phoning in sick and taking a day off when your husband is disabled, you just have to push through and get things done.  My heart aches for her, I miss the days when I looked after her when she wasn’t well.  Pulling down the blinds, covering her with blankets, bringing her ice packs wrapped in towels, warm soothing teas, and sometimes just holding her trying to offer her gentle comfort in the midst of the Migraine storm that was battering her.  I am no longer able to look after her like that, it seems so unfair to me that all the looking after is now a one way street, she has to look after me, and after herself.  I am glad that she has drifted back to sleep, perhaps she managed to get the meds in early enough to divert the storm.

     I’ve been awake for an hour now so I sit back up and decide to read, perhaps that will tire me out and let me find my way back to sleep.  As I begin reading it occurs to me that although I didn’t do this intentionally, this is the third book in a row about someone going on a journey or pilgrimage.  There is something ironic about reading about these great journeys when here I am limited to where my wheelchair can take me.  On the other hand this ALS journey is certainly a different kind of adventure, just not one I would recommend.  After a few chapters I settle back down and attempt to sleep again.

     I lay here, being cruelly tortured by this body of mine.  I can feel an itch on the top of my head and another one far down my right leg.  Both screaming at me to scratch them, but neither in a place I can reach anymore, it is my own body mocking me, cruelly laughing at me while I lay here helpless.  Okay, just don’t think about it, think about something else, but that doesn’t work, the harder I try not to think about them the more they push themselves to the centre of my thoughts.  In addition to that I have my almost constant headache, not a head splitting one but rather a dull constant ache.  I know that the headache is probably due to dehydration, it is hard for me to take in enough fluid when I can only take it in small sips or risk choking.

     I have suffered from sleep apnea for a long time, prior to getting my CPAP Machine I would have nightmares where I was drowning, gasping for air.  I would wake up trying to catch my breath and having to calm my racing heart.  Something about the positive air flow causes my airway to stay open and helps me get a better sleep.  I had taken my CPAP off to read and as I am no longer able to put it on myself, I tried sleeping without it. I remained in a mostly seated position as this helps me to keep breathing, but still every few minutes I stop breathing and wake up again.  It is apparent that a return to sleep is not going to happen this morning.  It is also quite apparent that ALS has made my sleep apnea much, much worse.

     I think about this not breathing thing.  Last time we spoke to my Doctor, The Killer Blonde, I had explained having trouble with something ALS patients call Acid Tears where one or both of your eyes suddenly start to burn and tear up.  She made some inquiries about it and learned that it is likely caused by a buildup of CO2 in my body.  Apparently my body is no longer able to expel all the CO2 and this cause some kind of Acidic buildup which seeps out of my eyes causing the burning sensation.  I may be due for a new machine called a BiPap which pushes air in and then sucks it back out, hopefully reducing the CO2 buildup.  I have seen other ALS patients using them, just another stark reminder of the onward march of this disease.  

     After she mentioned the build up of CO2 I am suddenly aware that my breaths have become much more shallow.  I had been a runner for most of my life so my breathing and lung capacity had always been above average but these are no longer Runner’s lungs, they are now ALS lungs, now below average and continuing on their downward spiral.  I believe my breaths are a third or half of what they once were.  This must have been gradually getting worse for a long time and I just didn’t notice it.  Just more breakdown between the brain and the muscles that keep a body functioning.

     I’m still awake when I hear Robin get up and go to the washroom, I recline my bed until it is flat and when she returns she climbs into bed with me.  The hospital bed is small and narrow, definitely not made for two but we snuggle into each other, my right arm wrapped around her, her right leg draped over mine.  Although normally this is the best part of the day, today Robin is softly crying into my shoulder, overwhelmed at the thought of having to get through another challenging day when she feels so poorly.  This is a reminder that heroes don’t all wear capes, they too struggle and get overwhelmed.  I admire Robin so very much for how bravely she faces our challenges.  Some mornings as we lay in each others arms, our tears intermingle, not because one of us don’t feel well but rather because of what we know is coming.  I will share something with you, something that surprised me, and may surprise you as well.  It is not this dying thing that is the heart wrenching devastating thing that we are facing, the dying thing will probably be quite easy.  What is rocking our foundation is the knowledge that soon our paths will part for the final time, Robin will continue on her path alone, and I will go through a door to the unknown.  

     As Robin and I lay together I can feel the fasciculations -the muscle twitching I can’t control beginning.  They start and stop twenty four hours a day now.  I can feel my right thigh twitching, Robin’s leg is draped over it so I know she must feel it too.  Oddly, I can feel the right side of my stomach twitching as well, not a place where I think of having a muscle but obviously there must be something there.  I used to spot the drug addicts walking down the street by the way they twitched, seeking out their next fix, now I am just like them twitching in my bed or wheelchair.  Their twitching stops after they get their fix, my twitching is more unpredictable, coming and going however it pleases.  

     This morning Robin doesn’t fall back asleep, she is too upset, but we both take comfort in the arms of the one we love,  Soon the time comes and we get up, she fights her battles, I fight my battles and together we fight our battles.  We still have some fight left in us, and although we know in the end we will lose, we aren’t ready to quit.  We are like that outmatched boxer, bloodied, bruised and swollen, being battered by our opponent.  The bell rings, we get up for the next round on weary legs, staggering to the middle of the ring hoping our opponent can’t see how close he is to winning.  We know that more hurt is coming but still we move forward.  We are tired and growing weaker but we don’t want to quit.  For now, we fight on.  

#ALS #Night Thoughts

[meloromantics]

do you have any advice on dealing with pain post-IUD insertion? i had an IUD for a few days and the cramps were so intense i got it removed. they just wouldn't subside. that may have been partly my fault bc i didn't take any preemptive pain meds before the insertion to get ahead of it, but it was rough. did your pain subside relatively quickly after insertion? or is this just something you gotta power through regardless?

so i have survived three insertions!! and i do have some big sisterly tips

number one: yes it was partially your fault for not taking preemptive pain meds but also more likely your medical provider’s fault for not adequately preparing you for the fact that that would be necessary !!! my college gyno explained to me that post-insertion my uterus was going to squeeze and cramp around this unfamiliar foreign object like its little life depended on it. part of the reason i chose mirena as my preferred long-acting reversible contraceptive was because i had a history of really horrendous periods, and she (the gyno) told me to prepare for it like was going to be one of the worst ones i’d had. she and every provider since has advised me to take 400-800 mg ibuprofen a few hours before the insertion.

number two: i have always scheduled insertions right before my weekend, and i basically write off that weekend as Certain Cramp Hell. i always get a ride to & from, and i always plan to do as little as possible bc i know i will be in pretty dramatic pain for a couple days.

number three: have your preferred period pain killer on hand for when you get home. my first two times i took like three aleve PM even though it was early on a friday afternoon and i just passed out in front of the tv. this most recent time i packed my Largest Bowl of a 2:1 blend of my Strongest Indica and a cbd dominant strain before i left the house for my appointment and within seconds of getting home i slammed it into my bong and got big time high 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️ and sat uncomfortably in complete silence on my couch until bedtime when i took another 3 aleve pm and racked out. so i guess number three point five is sleep it off if you can. the worst of it is always over within five days for me, and i’ve always been able to be back in school or at work after 3 days.

number four: give her (the hormonal IUD) some time to get in there and show you what she can do for you. i can count on two hands the number of times i have had to think about / plan for / react to a menstrual moment since the spring of 2014 when i got my first one. i think the post-insertion window was the longest the first time—i had some light spotting and changes to discharge for the first few months, and it took about three months for my periods to taper off and disappear. every gal is different here, but two months after my most recent insertion i have been visited by a couple spectral cramps and some moderate PMS symptoms like attitude and appetite fluctuations, but that’s it. it is already worth the pain of the insertion, and i have another 5-7 years of historically smooth sailing ahead of me.

number five: be your own best friend and biggest advocate at the doctor’s office. if you go back for a consult, be up front about your previous experience, ask questions, and ask for advice. i know there are approximately six times as many hormonal IUD options as there were when i got the first mirena, and i don’t know all of their brand names or what makes them distinct—but your doctor should, and they should sit down with you and answer your questions until you feel comfortable and informed enough to move forward. as an example, my most recent removal was honestly traumatic ! i had no strings and the gyno really had to root around in there several times while i approaching feral animal panic from how painful it was. it was truly awful, but two months out it’s already worth it and i will continue to use this as my contraceptive for as long as i can. when its time for my next one, i’ll go into my consult ready to explain how terrible that was for me and ask about pain AND anxiety management ahead of the next one. i have heard tell of but never directly experienced doctors offices that will prescribe 3 xanax to you, or hit you with laugh gas ahead of the insertion so that your mind has some distance from the pain. those are the kinds of things i’ll be asking about next time for sure. five point five: if during these convos you feel that your doctor doesn’t take your pain and concern seriously, try to find a new one that will!!

i hope this was helpful! in college before my first insertion i put “IUD experiences” at the bottom of the agenda for a voices for planned parenthood meeting and asked a bunch of my peers who had been through it what it was like, and their descriptions and advice made me feel way more confident going in. i hope that my advice is helpful to you as well, and if any of my followers w. relevant experience want to chime in in the replies pls do!!

[kirkpatricksnedker84]

Guide To The 5 Best Hotels In Miami

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[study-coffee-chicago]

Cut Off (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead! Sister Imagine)

A/N Thank you for reading and don't forget to reblog and comment! Also, thank you so, so much for over 2k followers! And, sorry this one took so long! Also, the second half of this isn't proofread because I have to go to bed earlier than normal because I have to be at work at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I just wanted to get this one out to you guys since I haven't posted in a while. So, if you see errors in the second half, that's why.

TW for p*ostitution and r*pe.

Today was the day. It was the day you were finally going to tell your dad you didn't want to go into medicine...and the day you knew you'd probably be kicked out. Because, if Jay being kicked out and quickly enlisting in the army was any indication, the same thing would happen to you.

This hadn't happened to Will because he went to school to become a doctor. But, he moved to Chicago because he didn't enjoy being a plastic surgeon anymore, leaving you stranded in New York with your dad who was a workaholic doctor and only approved of his kids if they followed in his footsteps.

You didn't get it really. Your dad was a successful doctor; he didn't need to live vicariously through his children, yet here you were.

You took a deep breath.

"Dad," you started as you walked inside after your last class of the day. It was the last class of your freshman year actually and it was one of the rare afternoons that your dad wasn't working.

He looked up at you. "Yeah? How'd your exam go?"

"It went okay...I think." You pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down across from him.

"Well, hopefully, you did better than okay because they don't accept just anybody into med school."

Here goes nothing, you thought.

"Dad, I'm changing my major."

He furrowed his brow. "To what? Organic chemistry or anatomy instead of biology?"

"No, psychology." Maybe with a minor in English because you liked to write and read or maybe a minor in another language, too...but, he didn't need to know that.

"I'm sorry. I think I heard you wrong. I think you meant to say psychiatry and not psychology. And that's fine because you're still a doctor. You just have to make sure you get matched to a psychiatry residency after med school."

"No, I mean psychology. You know, sort of like social work, but with more schooling and a bit more science."

"I'd take more than just a second to think this through, young lady."

You stood up. "I have thought this through!" you yelled. You couldn't take it anymore. "I hate science and lab classes and I hate blood and I hate surgeries cause they're gross! I can't be like you and Will! I just can't!"

He stood up as well. "Then you'll have to be like Jay. Pack a bag. Get out of my house."

You knew that was coming, so you already had a bag packed upstairs and ready to go. So, you turned on your heels and went upstairs and grabbed it. Then, you grabbed your phone and phone charger, and your car keys.

"If I can't have a dad who respects and accepts my career choices, then I don't want one at all," you said sadly as you walked into the kitchen.

You'd prepared yourself for this, but it didn't mean it hurt any less.

"Give me your phone and keys," was all he said.

"Wh- what?" you faltered.

"You heard me. Give me your phone and keys. I pay for the data on your phone and the insurance on your car. Therefore, these two things are mine. And since you don't want me as your dad, I will take them from you."

You scoffed but handed them over anyway.

"Fine."

Then, you left. You'd just find another way to get in contact with Will and Jay and would have to take the bus from New York to Chicago instead of driving. Everything would be fine.

***

Six months later, you wished you wouldn't have changed your major. Then maybe you wouldn't be in this situation to begin with; it was all your fault.

God, it was cold. November in Chicago was no joke and it especially wasn't a joke when you lived in a homeless encampment. Your tent was full of things you had brought from home and somehow kept people from stealing, things such as your favorite stuffed animal. Or, things that you bought with what little money you had, such as hygiene items and a sleeping bag, a flashlight, a pillow, an extra blanket, and some cheap snacks.

You had tried getting a job, but with no address to put on the application and no way of contacting Jay or Will or figuring out where they worked to ask for help, you were shit out of luck on the job front.

So, with what little money you had saved in cash from in New York and brought with you, you rented a crappy motel room for a few days. But, when your money ran low two weeks later, you knew things would get worse.

That's when you did it for the first time.

You were in a diner, sipping at a cup of coffee and the cheapest food you could find on the menu when a man walked up to you and slid you his number. You must've looked like shit and that you were in desperate need of money because the writing on the napkin had his number and also said:

Call me tonight and then meet me. Will pay in cash.

You knew what this was implying, and in any other circumstance, there's no way you would've done it. But, you needed the money since you wouldn't be able to afford a place to sleep that night.

So, you called him off a payphone that night and he told you where to meet.

When you met him, he asked you what you were comfortable with and to name your price. You also always made sure to meet them in public places before going home with them just to keep yourself safe. You had made up excuses of having to go a few times because you had gotten bad vibes off someone and left since it was easy because you were in a public place.

Anyway, back to the first guy.

After he asked you your boundaries, pricing, and everything like that, the two of you went to a motel and you had sex with him for money.

Some would call you a prostitute.

You were just doing what you had to do.

After that night, you went and bought yourself a tent.

Then, the next night you walked the streets and waited. After a few more men, you went to the store and bought a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a change of clothes.

That next morning, you found a homeless encampment, where you started staying. The people were nice enough, but you still wished you could find Jay or Will. Despite the sex being meaningless, you didn't want this to be the rest of your life. But, at this point, you had all but given up hope.

It had been months of the same thing. Eat, sleep, sleep with men for money. Eat, sleep, sleep with men for money. Eat, sleep, maybe take a day off. Eat, sleep...

You wouldn't be in this position if you had just gone into the career that your dad wanted you to go into; one that you weren't passionate about.

You didn't think you'd ever get out.

If Jay and Will hadn't figured out you were gone from New York by now, you knew there was no way that they'd ever find out.

***

"I'm gonna go see Dad this week for Thanksgiving," Will said to his younger brother as they sipped their respective beers at Molly's on a Sunday night.

"Before you ask because I know you will," Jay started, "I'm not going."

"Why not?" Will asked. "You know I'm mainly going for Y/N anyway."

"I know that. It's just, you weren't cut off by Dad; you have a much better relationship with him than I do."

"You don't think I know that?"

Jay sighed. "Sorry, I'm sorry. It's been a long weekend. I feel like I haven't slept since Thursday."

"I know the feeling. Flu season in the ED is great," Will complained.

"I bet. Just, check on Y/N for me, will you? She hasn't talked to me in a while and she stopped posting on social media."

"Are you seriously stalking our sister?" Will laughed.

"Uh, when she's the only one living with Dad, yes, yes I am."

"I'll text you when I see her. Actually, she hasn't texted me in a while, either."

"She's fine. She's gotta be okay...right?"

"Jay, she's trying to go to med school. She might have taken summer classes earlier and now the semester's started up again. She's probably just busy with school and exams."

"You're right, you're right," Jay agreed. "Just, tell me how she's doing and maybe have her call me."

Jay couldn't put his finger on it, but he just had a bad feeling; you had never stayed out of contact with either of them for this long. Sure, the occasional two weeks would by without you talking to them, but it had been six months. And for Jay, no matter your workload in school, that was way too long. Something was wrong and he knew it.

He just had to hope that Will would tell him that you were safe and sound. Now he just had to wait. What were a few more days when it had been six months anyway?

***

Typically, most people loved the holidays. Once Halloween hit, it was all focused on the winter holidays. Halloween had candy and costumes, Thanksgiving had turkey and giving thanks, Christmas had presents and family, and New Year's had celebrations and champagne.

But for you, it wasn't nice and full of family for the first time in your life.

Since most people were with their families on Thanksgiving, you knew that tonight would be hard. You knew you probably wouldn't make the amount of money you wanted to this weekend since everyone was with their families. But, you needed money. So, you did what you had to do.

You wasted money on a skimpy little outfit a few days prior and put it on, a pair of skimpy shorts and a corset under the cheap coat from a thrift store and braved the cold November air.

Time for some more meaningless sex for money; so is your life.

***

Will walked into his childhood home and called out to his dad and you. He heard clambering down the steps and assumed it was you because you were always excited for whenever one of your brothers was coming home.

And, Will was excited, too. He hadn't seen you or talked to you in months and he had bought you some fancy highlighters to use in your textbooks. These were currently wrapped in wrapping paper and he was ready to give them to you and see your reaction.

But, when Will saw only his dad coming down the stairs, he became very confused. Granted, it was early Thursday morning, so he figured you might be at the library studying, but he was still shocked not to see you.

"Hey, Dad," Will greeted once his dad was downstairs and pulled him into a rare hug. When he pulled away he asked, "Where's Y/N? She at the library or something?"

He laughed. "Not since May she hasn't been."

Will furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? She's been studying at home? She transferred schools?"

"Nope. Just didn't want to study medicine."

"What do you--" Will's eyes went wide as he realized what his dad was saying so nonchalantly. "You didn't cut her off. Tell me you didn't cut her off."

"She's been out of my house since late May."

Will wanted to strangle his dad. "You son of a bitch! I can't believe you!"

"Do not talk to me that way! I'm your father!"

"Some father!" Will scoffed. "First you kicked Jay out because he didn't want to go into medicine and now Y/N? A father doesn't make their love contingent on a career, Dad!"

"I still love her--"

"Like hell you do! Do you even know where she is?"

"Beats me."

"You fucking son of bitch!" Then, Will picked up his stuff.

"Where are you going?" his dad asked, clearly oblivious to why this was such an issue.

"No way in hell am I celebrating Thanksgiving with you! You know, you basically hate Jay and Y/N, so why don't you add me to that list, too, you old prick?"

"William--"

"Goodbye, Dad."

Then, Will walked outside. He hadn't even made it to his car when he dialed Jay's number.

"Hey," Jay answered. "Sick of Dad already?" he joked.

"He kicked Y/N out," Will said quickly as he unlocked his car and quickly got in.

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered as he continued putting the groceries away. Hailey said she and Jay should have a Thanksgiving dinner, so he quickly ran to the store to grab things that they hadn't been able to pick up earlier in the week. "That's why we haven't heard from her. Does he know where she is? Anything at all?"

"No, he hasn't seen her since May."

"May? And, how the hell are you so calm right now?" Jay yelled and grabbed his badge, gun, keys, and wallet.

"Because I already yelled at Dad and I'm driving so I can't really drive when I'm super angry unless you want me to crash into something! And, I'm gonna go find some homeless hot spots here, maybe check some shelters, maybe try and contact some of her friends. She could've stayed with one of them."

"Leave the contacting friends to me. I'm going to the district. Gonna talk to Platt and Voight and see what we can do."

"Okay, let me know what they say. I'll be looking at shelters and other places and I'll let you know if I find something." Will sighed. "We should've known something was wrong, Jay. We just should've fucking known."

"But we couldn't. There's no way we could've known, man. And the only way we can make up for that is to find her." Then, Jay hung up.

"Where are you going?" Hailey asked.

"To the district. C'mon. I'll explain on the way."

***

"Hey, Chuckles. Hey Goldilocks. Did Intelligence catch a case that didn't go through me first? Because I might have to talk to Voight about that," Trudy Platt's sassy self said as Jay and Hailey walked into the district the night of Thanksgiving.

"My sister," Jay said quickly. "She needs help. Call in Voight and the rest of the unit," Jay rushed out as he made his way over to the gate to get into Intelligence. He quickly scanned his hand and then ran up the stairs into the bullpen, taking them two at a time.

"Jay, what are you doing?" Hailey hissed as he sat down at his desk and immediately turned on the computer. "We need to wait for Voight."

"Hailey, I love you, and you know I want to do this the right way, but I can't wait. Run downstairs and grab Platt and have her come up here so I can explain and then she can sign off on me getting a warrant for Y/N's phone." He paused and looked directly at her. "Please," he added, his voice cracking.

"Okay," she answered softly, sensing how much pain he was in. "Be right back."

Not even a minute later, Platt was upstairs in the bullpen.

"What's going on?" she asked Jay as he continued typing on his computer.

"My dad, he uh, he kicked out my sister, Y/N in May and he hasn't heard from her since then and neither me nor Will has either. She's eighteen, Sarge. It's not safe out there for her with no money or family."

"Okay, Jay, what are you doing right now?" Trudy asked calmly.

"Typing up a warrant for Y/N's phone records and location."

"Jay, I know you're terrified right now and want to help," she began, "but I'm going to have Hailey do that. You need to tell me everything there is to know about her, places she might be, a recent photo of her--"

"Wait, you're handing this off to missing persons?"

"No, I'm not. I want to keep this as much in-house as you do, Halstead. But, if worst comes to worst and we have to hand it off, it's nice to have all the information. And, putting out a BOLO on her right away would be helpful."

"You're right, you're right. Sorry, Sarge," Jay apologized.

"It's okay, you're upset. Any other day it would most definitely not be okay. But today, I'll let it slide." Then, Voight walked into the bullpen. "Find a recent photo and write up everything that's important and you think we should know. I'll tell Voight."

***

A few hours later, Voight addressed the unit. "Forget about all the other cases," Voight said. He slapped a photo of you up on the whiteboard. "This is Jay's sister, Y/N Halstead, eighteen years old, went missing in May because her dad cut her off and kicked her out. She lived in New York, but since Jay lives here, it's possible she could have tried to get to Chicago. So, I'm looping in Lieutenant Benson of Special Victims in Manhanttan just in case worst comes to worst. And that means that we all have to be on our best behavior and do this by the book. If something happened to her and this goes to trial in New York, it needs to be air-tight. Got me?"

Everyone said a form of yes and they got to work. Voight and Platt got in touch with Lieutenant Olivia Benson in Manhattan, Jay told Will that some cops from New York might be coming to interview him, so it would be best to just go down to the Manhattan precinct that Voight was looping in and that a cop would be talking to their dad, too...just not to let him in on that. Hailey had gotten a judge to sign off on a warrant for your cell phone, so she was digging through old cell phone records of yours. Adam, Kevin, and Kim came into the district halfway through their Thanksgiving dinners (so partially stuffed) and started to work the case by asking Jay where he had taken you in Chicago and places you had mentioned before. Once they had that list, the three of them went out to go and look for you in those locations.

"You doing okay?" Hailey asked as she pulled her chair over to his desk, your phone records in her hand.

Jay scoffed. "No. I just- I can't believe he'd cut her off. Me, I can see because me and my dad didn't have the best relationship, to begin with, but...God, Hailey, this gonna sound incredibly sexist, but she's a girl; there's more danger if she's out in the world alone than if it were me. And, I went into the military and when I got back, I was older so it was easier for me to get on my feet." Granted, I did have PTSD, Jay thought...but, he didn't say that out loud. "I just need her to be safe. I won't be able to live with myself if she's..."

"Jay, I know you're scared, but you can't think like that. We're gonna find her...just, not by her phone records."

She passed him the phone records and he flipped through them, to the last time her phone was on and active.

May.

Your phone hadn't been active since May. And the last place it was active was Jay's childhood home in New York, the place where you had been living with your dad before he kicked you out.

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered. Hailey looked at him and quirked an eyebrow upward, silently asking for an explanation. "My dad took her phone, too." He sat for a second and then an idea popped into his head and started frantically typing.

"What are you looking for?" Hailey asked.

"Metro card," he answered while still typing.

"Metro card?"

"She didn't get her license until seventeen because she still needed to get all her driving hours in. So, for her sixteenth birthday, I bought her a metro card. And she calls me if she needs more money on it. She got a car when she got her license, so there was still a balance on there."

"So, you're thinking it's possible that she used her metro card to get wherever she is?"

"Yeah. And if it ran out of money, I would've gotten a call or an email and I haven't gotten one of those."

"So it's possible she still has it and is using it," Hailey said as she realized what Jay was getting at.

"Exactly."

Jay hit a few more buttons and then up popped your metro card history.

"Sarge!" Jay yelled and he came out of his office. "I need you to call Lieutenant Benson and tell her we don't need her."

Voight cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"She took a train to Chicago shortly after her last cell phone ping. There hasn't been an email or phone call to me saying she's run out of money and there's no record of a trip from Chicago back to New York."

"So you're saying she's here?" Voight asked.

"She's somewhere here. We just have to find her."

***

Jay had called Will and he was currently on his way back from New York. The Special Victims Unit in Manhattan had told Voight to reach out if anything changed and they were needed again.

It had been over eighteen hours and there were still no leads on the case. It was nearing noon and Jay hadn't slept in over a day...neither had the rest of the unit. So, much to Jay's displeasure, Voight sent everyone home and told them to come back at the very earliest 6 pm.

"No way am I going to be able to sleep, Hailey," Jay groaned as he laid next to Hailey in bed, the blinds drawn to make it slightly darker in the mid-day sun.

"I get it," Hailey agreed. "Sleep doesn't come when you're stressed. But, you have to try. And, if you can't sleep by 3:00, then we can go out and look for her ourselves."

"You'd really do that? Voight said he didn't want us being reckless."

Hailey scoffed. "Like Voight's one not to be reckless." She paused. "And, I didn't say we were going to be reckless, I said we'd look for her. We'll just drive around and look for her, no recklessness involved. And, Platt sent out a BOLO on the city-wide so any officer who sees Y/N has to call it in."

"I don't trust uniforms," Jay grumbled.

"Jay, just try and get some rest. Can't have you hallucinating from lack of sleep."

"Haha, very funny, Hails. Very funny."

Then, he turned on his side and tried to sleep.

***

Fuck, it was cold. You were tired and were worried that you were starting to get a bad cold and the nearest corner store was a block away. But, you kept walking even though you desperately wanted to sit down on a bench and take a rest for a few minutes. You needed something warm to drink and maybe a snack. Then, you'd go back to your tent and sleep...well, sleep as much as you could since it was during the day and was never truly quiet. You were too scared to sleep at night, so you had trained your body to sleep during the day and stay awake during the night. And, this helped for your few times a week "work" hours, too.

You continued walking and eventually made it to the store. You grabbed a bag of chips and made yourself a hot tea.

Then, you made your way up to the counter to pay, but no one was there.

But, then you heard the sound of sirens and heard the bell above the door jingle.

Cops.

Shit.

***

Jay poured himself a cup of coffee and then scrolled through his phone. He wasn't scrolling through the news or social media, but rather scrolling through all of the old texts he and you had exchanged to see if there was something in there that would help him find you; someplace you had mentioned that he had thought nothing of at first like somewhere you might want to go to when you came to visit next.

But, he found nothing.

He began to fiddle with his police radio.

Hailey walked into the living room. "Thought I told you to get some sleep?"

"I did," Jay replied as he kept twisting the dial on the radio, listening to officers over the radio. "Two solid hours."

"Huh, I don't think so. But keep telling yourself that. You should really try to go back to sleep, Jay. We both should--"

"Shhh!" He abruptly cut her off and turned up the volume on his radio.

"Possible spotting of missing woman Y/N Halstead. Dispatch, notify the 21st district and Intelligence, and tell them that we are moving in."

"Copy. What is your location?"

Jay and Hailey were up and putting on their coats while they listened to Jay's radio with the location. Hailey grabbed her keys while Jay spoke into the radio.

"This is 5021 George and 5021 Henry. Hold us down on the Y/N Halstead case as plainclothes officers responding."

"Copy that 5021 George."

Jay had never thought of this like a case before now, but he guessed that was what it technically was.

***

Hailey sped down the streets of Chicago and to a small corner store. Jay jumped out before the car was even in park.

A few minutes earlier you were sure you were going to be arrested for prostitution. You had thought about dropping the tea and the bag of chips and making a run for it, but there was only one door out of the store that you knew of...and you didn't want to burn yourself by spilling scalding hot tea down yourself.

So, you were shocked when the officers asked who you were and then said that you weren't being arrested. But, all they said was for you to wait in the back of the car, which didn't exactly ease all your fears about having charges brought against you. But, it was cold and they were cops, so you obeyed and sat in the back of their patrol car. At least it had heat.

"Where is she?" Jay yelled. "She in the back?" he asked.

The officer nodded and Jay ripped the backseat door open.

You were so zoned out on trying to figure out what these officers wanted from you that you didn't even realize that cold air was now rushing into the patrol car and hitting your body.

That was until you heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N."

No, it couldn't be. It had been months; there's no way he would've been able to find you after all this time.

"Short Stack, it's me. It's Jay."

You turned your head, expecting it to be your deepest desires playing tricks on you, and you almost fell out of the seat when you saw that it was Jay. He was here and he was real.

"J-Jay?" you asked as you felt tears pool in your eyes. You never thought you'd see him or Will again and here he was.

"It's me."

Jay looked you over. You looked exhausted. You did have on a coat, but below that was just a skimpy tank top. You also had shorts on. He knew what this was--or rather, what it looked like--but he wasn't worried about that right now. He was worried about how thin and pale you were and your runny nose.

He looked at the officers. "You going to Med?"

"That was the plan," one answered.

"Mind if I ride with you?" he asked.

"Don't mind at all, Detective."

Jay nodded and then turned to Hailey. "Meet us at Med? And, can you loop in the unit and Will?"

Hailey smiled. "Copy that."

Jay sat next to you in the backseat on the way to Chicago Med. Since this wasn't technically an emergency because you weren't dying, there were no lights and sirens. Jay didn't try to initiate contact even though he so desperately wanted to. He knew you had been on your own for months and had no idea what you had endured, so he thought it was best to let you initiate the contact.

You reached out and fiddled with the badge that was around Jay's neck, just like you used to do with his dog tags right before he got deployed.

That was all the contact Jay needed.

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You relaxed into his touch.

"I thought you forgot about me," you whispered and ran your hands up and down your legs in some semblance of warming them.

Jay pulled away for a quick second and shed his jacket and then draped it over your legs. "Take it. It's cold out." Then, he wrapped his arm around you again and allowed you to use him as a pillow. "I could never forget about you. I'm just sorry it took so long."

***

"Jay, what are you doing here?" Maggie asked as you and Jay walked into the ED. You were walking a lot slower than Jay would've liked, and he could tell you were exhausted just by your pace.

"Maggie, this is my sister, Y/N--"

"What?"

"I'll explain later. Just, can she get checked out please?"

"Halstead?" Dylan Scott asked when he saw his former colleague.

"Scott?" Jay asked.

"You need a doc? I can take her if you want. Maggie?"

"Treatment four's open."

"Right this way," Dylan said and then led you and Jay into a treatment room.

You slowly got on the bed and laid Jay's jacket over your legs once more.

"Hey, I'm Doctor Scott," Dylan said as he pulled a stool over next to you and sat down. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N," you said. "How do you know my brother?"

"We went to the academy together. He's a hell of a cop."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "But you're a doctor."

Dylan smiled. "Sometimes, career changes are good. You gotta do what makes you happy."

Yeah, tell that to my dad, you thought to yourself.

You nodded and shivered.

"I'll have a nurse come to take your vitals while I go grab another blanket." He made eye contact with Jay.

"I gotta go call Will," Jay said. "Be right back, Short Stack."

"Okay." You nodded and Dylan and Jay left the room as a nurse entered to take your vitals.

Dylan brought Jay into the doctor's lounge. "Care to tell me what your sister's doing here? Because, depending on how old she is, I'm seeing very clear signs of neglect or an eating disorder based on her size. And, you know as well as I do that if it's the first option, that I have a legal obligation to call DCFS."

Jay sighed. "She's eighteen." He pointed to the coffee. "Do you mind?"

Dylan shook his head and sat down at the table. "Not at all."

"Thanks. I feel like I haven't slept in days."

Jay poured himself a cup of coffee and then sat down at the table across from Dylan.

"She's here because of my dad," he answered.

"So, it is abuse?" Dylan asked.

"Well, not exactly. She's been eighteen since April and she was going to school. She was going to become a doctor. But, my dad kicked her out. All I know is that she's probably been on the street since then."

"How'd she get here?"

"Took a train. Probably tried to find me or Will, but since our dad took her phone, that was basically impossible."

"And do you know if she was..." He trailed off. "Because by the look of her clothes..."

"I don't know. And, I don't want to push her if she is. Just, can you check every box with her? Who knows what she did this past half a year. Eye exam included."

Dylan looked confused at the last part. "Eye exam? Why?"

"She normally wears glasses because she's a bit nearsighted, but she wasn't wearing them. So, if she needs new glasses, I wanna know."

"Okay, but you do know that since she's eighteen, I have to tell her all the tests I'm doing and why. And if she refuses one of them, that I won't do it because she has full decision-making capacity?"

"I understand."

"I gotta get back. Feel free to stay in here to call Will."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Then, Dylan walked out of the room to go retrieve a blanket for you.

You looked up when Dr. Scott walked into the room with the blanket you asked for.

"Vitals look good. We'll have to check her weight, but that can be done later. Everything looks good except her lung sounds are a little wheezy," the nurse said.

"Thank you," Dylan said and the nurse handed your chart over to him and ducked out of the treatment room.

Dylan held the blanket out to you and you took it. "Thanks," you said.

"You're welcome. We'll probably have to get you into a gown soon, but we don't have to do that just yet." You nodded as you set the blanket over you and pulled it up to your chin. Dylan took a seat on the stool next to your bed. "Listen, Jay told me what happened. And, he and I would like to do a full workup. All the tests, all the pokes, and prods. I'll tell you which tests they are if they aren't standard because you have to give us permission to do those. We won't force you to do anything you don't want."

You nodded, then looked down. "He wants me to get an STD test, doesn't he?"

"He does." Your eyes widened. You didn't want to be poked and prodded down there! "All we have to do is test a blood sample, but if you don't want that test, we don't have to do that."

"It's not a pelvic exam?"

Dylan shook his head. "Nope. We just test the blood. You don't have to decide if you want it now, but I do have to run some standard blood panels, so just let me or a nurse know after your blood is drawn."

"Okay, thank you."

"Are you having any issues at the moment? The nurse said your lungs sound wheezy. Are you have difficulty breathing? Any coughing, sore throat, mucous build-up, fever, or headaches?"

"Just stuffy and my throat's a little scratchy and there's a lot of mucous." You paused. "And I'm tired."

Dylan nodded. "Understandable. Tell you what, I'll let you rest and I'll come back in a few hours to run some tests. Sound good?" You nodded. "Great. I think Jay's on his way back right now."

Jay walked in just as Dylan walked out. And, he wasn't alone. There was a blonde girl with him.

"Warming up?" Jay asked.

You shrugged. "A little."

"Good. I talked to Will. He's got a four-hour drive left and I'm adding two hours to that because of traffic, so he should meet us here at like 8:00." You nodded. "And this is Hailey. She's my partner at work and my girlfriend."

Your eyes widened. "Well, you two look cute together. Especially with the height difference."

"Shocked you can see that," Jay joked. Then, he looked at you with his serious face. "Y/N, I need to know, what happened to your glasses?" You looked down. "Hey, whatever happened, whatever you did, I promise you I won't be mad. I'm just glad you're here and that you're safe."

You swallowed and then cleared your throat to get the mucous out. "Um, someone stole my glasses."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Were you mugged? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, nothing like that. I just came back to my tent one day and they were gone."

Jay took a deep breath; he didn't know what to say. He knew what you meant when you said tent. So, Hailey picked up where Jay left off.

"You were living on the street?" Hailey asked and then took a small step towards you.

"Yeah," you practically whispered. You looked up at Jay. "I'm sorry. I tried to find you, but I didn't have a phone and--"

"No," Jay said and quickly shook his head. "None of this is your fault."

"I should've memorized your number or Will's number and not depend so much on my phone. Maybe then--" you let out a wail. "I was so scared! Every night, ev- every day!"

Jay kneeled down in front of you and gently grabbed your hand. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. You have me and Will and all our friends now. You're safe. You know we're always here for you, right? Even if it took us a bit, we'll always be there for you. You'll never be alone now."

You sniffled and wiped your tears. "You promise?"

"I promise. Now, get some sleep. When you wake up, Will will probably be back and he'll be mother-henning the living crap out of you."

***

"Is she hurt? Is she sick? Did they do a blood panel yet?" Will asked frantically as he entered the treatment room.

"Shh!" Jay said quickly. "She's sleeping." He looked to Hailey. "You mind staying in here while me and him talk in case she wakes up. Even though she doesn't really know you yet, I don't want her to be alone."

Hailey nodded and gave him a small smile. "Of course."

Jay and Will left the ED entirely and made their way to the cafeteria, each grabbing a sandwich and a large cup of coffee. Jay bought a sandwich and a large coffee to bring back to Hailey, too.

"Doctors say anything yet?" Will asked as he unwrapped his sandwich.

"They haven't done a blood panel yet," Jay answered as he stirred a packet of cream into his coffee. "Dylan said he'd let her sleep for a bit and then come back and do it. He's pretty good with patients."

"Well, he does work in Peds, so I'd hope so," Will informed his brother. Will sighed. "She looked pretty thin."

"Yeah." Jay paused, still reeling from what you had told him and Hailey a few hours ago. "She's been living on the street, in a tent. She said someone stole her glasses, too."

Will clenched his jaw. "I wish we would've known sooner."

"Yeah, me too."

They ate in silence for a few bites until Will spoke up again. "Where do we go from here? Like, is there a trial? Does one of us have to fill out paperwork since she'll be with us? And then there's the health insurance..."

"Whoa, slow down," Jay said. "And, there won't be a trial. She was eighteen when it happened, so you know as well as I do that the minute someone turns eighteen, their parents are no longer legally responsible for them."

"In this world, pretty damn hard to be on your feet at eighteen." Jay nodded in agreement. "I should've decked Dad when I had the chance."

"I don't have jurisdiction in New York, so I don't think that would've been a good idea."

"Why not? I know you'd have done the same thing."

"Because it'd be a hell of a lot harder for me to get you out of jail in New York than it would be to get you out of jail here in Chicago." Jay took a deep breath. "I think Y/N should come live with me."

"You came to that conclusion quickly," Will observed and then took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, well, me and Hailey just bought a new house and there's a spare bedroom. I'm pretty sure I can get her under my health insurance through CPD because, no offense, man, but their plan is definitely better than yours. And, our place is bigger than yours."

"Damn, you really thought this through. Proud of you, little brother."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to ask the question he knew he had to when he found out you were missing. And, he was dreading what the answer would be. "Do you know if she was sexually assaulted?"

Jay's voice got quieter as if he was afraid to even answer the question himself even though he didn't have an answer from you yet. "I don't know. By the looks of what she was wearing...well, she looked like some of the girls I've picked up for solicitation in the past. That's not to say that what she was wearing makes it so that she was turning tricks for sure though."

"Jay, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I have my suspicions. Think about it. She had no money, she was sleeping in a tent, she said her glasses got stolen. I don't know, man, something's just not adding up. I don't want it to be true, but..."

Will nodded, knowing what he was going to say. "If it is true you want to get her treatment, but you don't want to force her to tell us anything."

"Yeah. I asked Dylan to run an STD test, but he said that she has to agree to it."

"And then there's confidentiality, so it's not like he can tell us if she has an STD even if Y/N does agree to the test."

"Exactly."

"So, we just wait?" Will asked.

"That's all I can think to do right now. That and make sure she feels safe at mine and Hailey's house and make sure she's healthy."

"Well, hey, that's something me and you can make sure happens, right? And then, maybe when she's not in survival mode anymore, she'll open up to us."

"Yeah," Jay agreed. "I really hope you're right."

***

"Hey, kiddo," Will said as he and Jay walked back into the treatment room. "How are you feeling?"

"Warm," you said quietly and stretched your arms above your head.

"Glad to hear it. Dr. Scott said that you're feeling a little stuffy?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing. I've had worse." You quickly clamped your mouth shut, realizing what you had just said.

"When you were by yourself?" Will asked gently and crouched down next to your bed.

You nodded and looked down and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Can you maybe tell us about that?"

"Do I have to?"

"You don't have to, but it might help to talk about it."

You sighed. "It was just a really bad case of the flu and it's hard to take care of yourself when there's- when you have to go inside places to go- to go to the bathroom. It was humiliating." The tears began to fall and you wiped them away and looked at Will.

He immediately pulled you into a hug. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now. You're not alone. Let it out."

And so, you cried and clutched Will's shirt for the next half an hour. You cried at how your dad had kicked you out without even a second thought. You cried at how you only had yourself to depend on. You cried at you had to sleep with grown men just to survive and the pain and humiliation and shame that came with that. You cried at how disappointed you were for yourself. And, you cried with relief of your brothers finally finding you.

***

"Watch your step," Jay warned as you, Will, Jay, and Hailey walked across the parking lot of Jay and Hailey's apartment complex. "Lots of potholes in the parking lot that the city needs to fix."

"Okay," you answered and moved closer to Will and leaned into him, relishing in his warmth.

That's one thing that Dylan had told you: you'd be cold for a while until your weight increased. And, you'd have a weakened immune system until your weight increased, so fighting this cold would be harder...and you'd be colder than normal. Well, colder than you would've been last year at this time when you were living with your dad and hadn't been out on the streets, fighting to survive, and losing weight by no fault of your own in the process. He also told you that you didn't have any STDs (Thank God for forcing the johns to wear condoms if they wanted your services) and that your new glasses would be in, in about a week.

You made your way into the house and were hit with a warm gust of air immediately upon entering.

The heat was on.

"Welcome home," Jay said. "If you wanna change your clothes, Hailey said you could borrow some of hers until we go to the store or order stuff online."

"Uh, thanks. But can I, um, can I take a shower?"

"Of course," Jay said. "I can show you your room while Hailey grabs you some clothes. There's a bathroom right off of your room."

You nodded and followed Jay into what would now be deemed your bedroom. Hailey brought you some clothes a few minutes later and Jay told you that towels were in the cabinet and there should already be body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower and just to yell if you needed anything.

You started to shower.

At first, you made the water lukewarm and just stood under it; you didn't need it scalding hot...this time at least.

For the past six months, you had had two different shower routines (besides the beginning when you were staying in motels with the money you had brought with you because your shower routine was normal then).

The first routine was sneaking into the YMCA when the front desk person who scanned people's membership badges was busy. From there, you'd rush to the locker rooms with your backpack of clothes and toiletries and take a quick shower. Typically, you kept the water lukewarm so that you wouldn't get too tired and relaxed under the hot water because you knew you needed to hurry. You couldn't give them any reason to realize that you weren't a member and the faster you finished your shower and got out of the building, the better. You didn't think that they'd do anything about it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Because of this, you usually only took a five to eight minute shower and were usually out of the building in twenty minutes tops.

The other routine was after you had made some money in hotels.

Usually, after you were finished, you'd ask to shower and the men would typically flippantly agree and wave you over to the bathroom. This was when you'd make your showers scalding hot. You wanted to wash off all remnants of that night. So, you'd take one of the wash clothes and douse it in body wash and scrub. You'd scrub and scrub under the hot water until your skin looked red. Then, you'd quickly wash your hair and finish showering. But, you thought that by scrubbing and practically burning yourself with the shower water that you'd wash away everything from that night, that everything except the money he handed you would go down the drain of the shower. Sometimes, you wished that you'd shrink into the size of a water droplet and fit down that drain, too.

But, of course, that never happened.

You massaged some body wash into your skin and rinsed it off. You continued doing this over and over and then did the same thing with the shampoo, trying to wash everything about the past six months off your body and from your hair. Then, you turned up the heat of the water all the way and just stood under the showerhead, allowing the hottest water to pour over you.

You took a deep breath and finally allowed yourself to relax in a shower for the first time in a long time.

***

You didn't know how long you had been in the shower but soon heard Jay pounding on the door and calling your name.

"Y/N? You okay in there? You've been in the shower for an hour."

"I have? I'm getting out right now!"

"Take as much time as you want," Jay reassurred you. But, You quickly turned off the shower and dried yourself off and got out of the shower and changed into the clothes that Hailey let you borrow.

You wrapped your hair up in a towel and left the bathroom.

"Whoa!" Jay said when you stepped out of the bathroom two minutes after he had yelled to make sure that you were okay. "I didn't mean you had to get out right this second. You could've stayed in as long as you wanted."

"It's okay," you said, still holding your dirty clothes in your hand. "I don't wanna make your water bill go up that much. I'm sorry for taking such a long shower." You looked down at your feet.

"Hey, hey, no," Jay said quietly and soothingly. "You don't have to worry about that. You just need to focus on getting your strength and your weight back up."

"Are you sure? I can go get a job somewhere--"

"Y/N, I am dead serious. Now, do you want to go to mine and Hailey's favorite brunch spot? We can even invite Will because I know he'll be here soon after he gets home and showers, too."

"Uh, sure," you agreed. You didn't really want to go because you didn't want Jay to have to have  spend more money on you when you knew he already was going to be paying for living expenses such as your food, shelter, and clothing.

When living on the street, that was one thing you realized: everything was a lot more expensive than you had previously thought.

"If you want to dry your hair, I can grab you Hailey's hairdryer out of our bathroom if you want? Wouldn't want your hair to turn into icicles."

You nodded and Jay went off to grab the hairdryer.

***

"This doesn't look like a restaurant," you said to Jay and Hailey as Jay parked the truck in front of a shoe store. Not that you could have seen that the name of the store had shoe in it until you were right up in front of it because your glasses hadn't come in yet.

"Because it's not. And, you're getting at least two pairs of shoes. Can't let your toes freeze off in these Chicago winters."

You looked down at your crappy Nike shoes that had gotten you through all this. He was right of course, there were holes in your shoes, but you hadn't wanted to ask him for new ones, so you just said nothing.

"I'm okay with just a new of tennis shoes," you mumbled.

"Nope. Boots and tennis shoes. If you take one step outside in tennis shoes in January, your foot will be soaked."

So, you reluctantly agreed and walked into the shoe store. You tried to just go for the cheapest ones, but Jay wasn't letting that happen. He handed you multiple pairs of Nike and Adidas shoes in your size while Hailey went to look for nice, fluffy pairs of boots for you to try on while you sat on the still and tried on all the tennis shoes.

"What about these?" you asked them when you tried on a pair of navy blue Adidas shoes with a pink Adidas logo on both sides.

Hailey nodded. "I like them. They're not too bulky that they would look weird with jeans or shorts either. Nice choice."

"Thanks." You looked up at Jay, waiting for him to voice his opinion.

"As long as you have shoes that fit right and keep your feet warm and are supportive, I don't care what they look like. That more your and Hailey's department."

"It is," Hailey started. "I mean look at his shoes." You looked down at Jay's black, beat-up boots he always wore. "The man needs new shoes!"

"Hey! For your information, I accidentally left my nicer pair in my work locker and instead brought these ones home," Jay argued.

"Okay, babe, keep telling yourself that."

You laughed. They were so happy together.

You got that pair of Adidas shoes and then a black pair of boots which were very fluffy and cozy inside, perfect for those harsh Chicago winters.

Now it was time for brunch.

***

You sat down next to Will in the booth at the restaurant and immediately started to fiddle with the gold chain with a cross charm that he always wore around his neck.

"You know," Will began, "I can just buy you a necklace like this one since you like mine so much."

You shook your head and stopped playing with the cross charm. "I like playing with other people's better." It reminded you that you weren't alone anymore.

Will looked at Jay and Jay shrugged from across the table. You had always bounced your leg as a kid--from general anxiety--but playing with other people's stuff was new for you.

Hailey laughed. "I think it's cute that she does that," she gushed.

Jay rolled his eyes. "Of course you would."

Then, the waitress came by and brought your menus. You scanned the drink selection, knowing that you were only going to get water anyway since you wouldn't have to pay for that. So, you seemed a bit out of place when Hailey and Jay both got coffee and Will got a latte.

When she walked away to let you look over the menu to figure out the rest of your order, Will spoke up.

"Y/N, they have really good hot chocolate here. It's got caramel in and whipped cream and more caramel on top."

"I'm okay with water," you said and then took a sip of your water for emphasis.

Jay and Will shared a look. Will wanted you to drink it because he knew it would be an easy way to get more calories in you, but Jay knew that the reason you weren't getting anything fancy was because of the price.

You scanned over the menu and looked at all the prices. You probably would end up getting the oatmeal with fruit since it was the cheapest thing.

The three of them started talking about what they were going to get and when it got to you, you said, "The oatmeal with fruit."

Jay sighed. "Y/N, I know you're worried that this is too expensive." You looked down and that was all the confirmation he needed. "But, me and Will have adult jobs, which means we can afford to do these things and we can take care of you until you get on your feet in a few years or decide you want to go off to college."

"Let us help you, kiddo," Will added. "Please."

"At least let me get the tip," you argued.

"No," Jay said quickly. He ran a hand over his face. "How much money do you have right now?"

"One hundred and fifty dollars," you mumbled.

"Okay." Jay thought for a moment. "How about we set you up a savings account and you put $100 in there and then you keep the extra $50 for random things you want to buy. But if you're with me or Will, we'll pay for your food and stuff like that if we go out anywhere. Sound like a plan?"

"I mean, I guess."

"Good. Now look over the menu and figure out what you actually want to get."

When the waitress came back, you ordered pancakes, and the two sides you chose were sausage and hash browns. She was about to leave, but Will quickly stopped her.

"And can she also get a medium caramel hot chocolate?" he asked.

"Of course," she said as she scribbled it down. "Good choice. That one's my favorite." Then, she walked off with your orders.

"Will, I didn't need--"

"Just consider it my treat, Y/N."

And so you did. And Will was right: that hot chocolate was pretty damn good.

***

One week later

"I come bearing--"

"Shhh!" Jay said quickly. "Y/N's sleeping!"

"Okay," Will whispered. "I brought her glasses. They came in today." He paused. "It's like 6:00. Why's she sleeping?"

"Poor kid can't sleep at night," Hailey answered.

"Well, I'm gonna go give these to her," Will determined, wanting to wake you up now so that you could sleep later tonight.

"Will--"

"Jay, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing."

Will entered your room and touched your shoulder while he whispered your name.

You were startled awake when someone touched your shoulder.

"Y/N, it's me. It's just Will," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to scare you." He flicked on your lamp and held something out to you. "Your glasses came in."

You opened the white case and popped the pink and white glasses on. "I can--" You cleared the mucous from your throat. "I can see again. Thanks." And then, you started coughing.

Will furrowed his eyebrows and squatted down so he'd be eye-level with you since you were still sitting in bed. "You getting sick, kiddo?"

Will took in your appearance. You had giant bags under your eyes despite having a roof over your head and knowing that you were safe now. Your voice had been scratchy when you talked and you sounded like you were all stuffed up with mucous. The area below your nose was red and raw, which Will assumed was from you blowing your nose a ton.

You shrugged. You knew you were getting a really bad cold--and it didn't help that you weren't sleeping very much--, but didn't want to be a burden and worry your brothers and Hailey.

Will put the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel warm, but I'd feel much better if you'd give me some symptoms so I can help you. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah." You paused. "My nose is stuffy and my throat is sore and scratchy," you answered.

Will nodded. "Okay. And, does right here hurt?" He touched either side of his head at his temples. "Or here?" He touched the area below his eyes where his sinuses were located.

"Here," you answered as you touched the area below your eyes.

"Okay, it's possible you have a sinus infection. But, it's nothing to worry about; it should go away on its own. But for now, I want you to take a warm shower if you're up to it. The steam should help clear you out a bit."

"Okay," you said and stood up and grabbed a change of clothes.

Earlier in the week, you and Hailey had gone shopping and you had gotten some clothes. Jay had met you at the mall later to get you a phone, too. You had protested and said you really didn't need one, but he said he couldn't risk you going missing again. And, he needed an upgrade anyway. So, both you and Jay had gotten new phones that day.

You got in the shower while Will went to talk with Jay and Hailey.

"You do know she's sick, right?" Will started as he stood in front of the tv to make sure that he had Jay's full attention and he couldn't keep walking the sportscasters talk about the Blackhawks pre-game show.

Jay turned off the tv. The pre-game wasn't that important anyway. "She's sick? I thought she just had a cold."

"She does, but I think it turned into a sinus infection," Will said.

"Don't you need antibiotics for that?"

"No, she just needs to rest and her body will heal on its own. She can use a nasal decongestant, but not for more than three days at a time or else it'll clog up her nose even more."

"So that's it?" Jay asked. "We can't do anything else?"

"Besides sleep and making sure she's eating and drinking enough water, that's about it."

"Would soup help?" Hailey piped up.

"Well, she said her throat's sore and scratchy, so it might help to have something go down easy, yeah," Will answered.

"Okay, then it's settled. I'm making chicken noodle soup for dinner."

"I hope you don't always make her cook dinner, Jay," Will said. "Mom definitely taught us better than that...even though she basically cooked for Dad every night."

Jay rolled his eyes. "We both cook, man. She just happens to have the better chicken noodle soup recipe."

"In that case, I'll be staying for dinner."

"Will! You can't just invite yourself to stay for dinner! You know that's not how it works!"

Hailey laughed. "Jay, it's fine. I don't mind cooking a little extra."

Twenty minutes later, you walked into the living room in a pair of sweatpants, fuzzy socks, a t-shirt, and a bathrobe tied around you.

"Shower help?" Will asked.

You shrugged. "A little. Where's Hailey?"

"She's in the kitchen making chicken noodle soup for dinner," Jay answered. "It's amazing; you'll love it. She even uses those bow tie noodles you really like."

You smiled. "Sounds good."

"Now that you can see the puck on tv," Jay started, "wanna watch the Blackhawks game?"

"Sure. Turned from a Rangers fan into a Hawks fan now, did both of you?"

"No. I still prefer the Rangers, but you only get so many out-of-market games. The Hawks are our backup team in case the Rangers don't get into the playoffs. Right, Will?"

"He's right. I'm gonna go get you some water before we start the game," Will added. "Gotta keep you hydrated."

***

It was currently nearing two in the morning and you had been trying to sleep since 10 pm because you were so, so tired. The combination of little sleep and having a sinus infection really made you utterly exhausted.

You got up from bed and grabbed your water bottle. Then, you made your way into the kitchen and turned on a light. Maybe eating more soup would help you feel sleepy since it was warm.

That's exactly what you did, ate soup at the kitchen table at 1:47 in the morning. But, after you finished it and sat at the table and let your mind wander for ten more minutes, you still weren't tired.

So, you put your bowl in the sink and turned off the light. Then, you made your way to the living room and turned on a lamp. You grabbed a blanket from the chest in the corner and set it on the couch. Then, you made your way over to the bookshelf that was set up against the wall of the living room that was closest to the hallway that led to your bedroom and Jay and Hailey's bedroom.

You scanned the selection of books and grabbed one that you thought might be slightly interesting and then sat down on the couch. You curled up into the blanket and began to read.

***

Jay woke up an hour later to grab a glass of water and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a light on in the living room. He knew that it wasn't a robber or anything like that because he knew that they wouldn't turn on the lights in a house they were trying to rob. But, he was still shocked to see you sitting on the couch, reading, with a blanket lying across your legs.

"Short Stack?" Jay said quietly. You jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Couldn't sleep?" You nodded your head. "Are feeling worse than earlier?" You shook your head again.

Jay sat down next to you and gently pulled the book from your hands and dog-eared the page you had ended on.

"What's going on, Y/N? Please tell me."

"You'll think it's stupid," you whispered.

"I promise you that I won't. Please. Not sleeping isn't good for you and I know that first hand having to be up all the time for my job. I don't want you going through the rest of your life half alive because of sleep deprivation. So just, please, talk to me."

"I can't sleep," you answered simply.

"I know that. Maybe you could tell me why you can't sleep and I can try and help?"

"You wouldn't understand," you muttered.

"Try me."

You sighed. He really wasn't going to give up. "It's too quiet."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "And that's why you can't sleep?"

"Yeah. I know I have a fan and all, but I was so used to hearing people talk and cars honking and everything when I was, you know..." you trailed off You hated saying when I was homeless because that just made it real.

"When you were living on the streets?" Jay asked.

"Yeah. And, I had to be alert all the time, so when it's quiet now, I hear everything...and I hate it. I hate it so much, Jay."

Jay nodded. "Believe it or not, I get it."

"How would you get it?"

Normally, Jay wouldn't appreciate your tone, but seeing as you weren't feeling good, were tired, and your anxiety was on high alert, he let it slide. He had enough practice with keeping his cool anyway that it came to him naturally.

"When I came home from Afghanistan," he began, "I couldn't sleep in silence either. I was so used to hearing people talking or uh..."

"Gunfire," you said.

"Yeah, uh, that. But I was so used to it that I couldn't sleep in silence. I did what you're doing now: used a fan."

"Did it work?" you asked.

Jay chuckled. "No. Not one bit. But, I started playing the tv in the background along with the fan and it worked."

"It did?"

"It did," he confirmed.

You sat in silence for a beat. "What did you watch?"

"Dumb stuff. Mainly Nick at Nite because I knew I wouldn't have to focus on those shows." He paused. "You wanna give it a try?"

"I don't have a tv in my room," you pointed out.

"Well, we can always move your nightstand and put it at the foot of your bed and put my laptop on it. What do you say?"

"I guess it's worth a try."

Jay smiled. "Okay. I'll grab my laptop and meet you in your room."

So, that night, Jay made sure Netflix was on auto-play while Friends played.

You finally got some sleep.

***

Two weeks later

Christmas was in a week and a half. There was a Christmas tree up in your living room and Hailey would always light Christmas-scented candles like pine or sugar cookie candles.

When Jay and Hailey were at work, you'd always cook dinner and clean the house. You figured since you couldn't pay rent or help with groceries or other living expenses that you could at least do this.

But, you still felt like a burden.

You wanted to be able to give Jay rent money and wanted to be able to give Jay, Hailey, and Will Christmas gifts (and give Will a little extra money because of all the money he probably pitched in to help Jay get you clothes and decor for your room and a phone).

You knew what you had to do.

You put on the tightest dress you had and the heels you still had from when Jay found you that morning, slipped on your coat, and then tip-toed out of the house.

Off to do what you never thought you'd do again.

But, it wasn't that bad; it was just sex; it didn't mean anything to you anymore.

***

Hailey poured herself a cup of coffee while Jay was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and getting dressed for work when she heard the door open. She whipped around. She had no idea who would be here at this time.

"Y/N, what were you--" But then she took in your appearance. Your eyes were red and puffy and she was certain there was a bruise forming on your right eye and there were small cuts littering your legs and a few on your face. In your hand, you held your glasses, which had one temple and one lens missing the other lens was cracked. "Jay! Call your brother! Now!"

You heard the sound of something being spit out and then a shirtless Jay ran into the kitchen, remnants of toothpaste still around his mouth. "What? Why?" His eyes widened when he saw you. "Y/N, oh my God!"

Then, he quickly called Will while still looking at you. Hailey grabbed you a blanket and wrapped it around you.

"Jay, grab a shirt so we can get to Med! Me and Y/N are gonna get in my car!" Hailey yelled.

Jay nodded and then turned around and sprinted off to his and Hailey's room to grab a shirt.

"Y/N, listen to me. We're going to Med to get you checked out. It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay," Hailey reassured you.

It was as if your body was on autopilot. You followed her to her car, but you weren't really aware of it. But, you knew you needed to tell her.

"I- I'm bleeding."

"Okay, okay. Can you tell me where?"

You quickly shook your head.

Jay jumped into the passenger side, still on the phone with Will, but you were barely listening to their conversation.

"She said she's bleeding, tell him that," Hailey said while she sped off to Med, lights, and sirens on.

"She's bleeding," Jay repeated into the phone. There was a pause and then, "Where?"

"She didn't say," Hailey answered.

Jay turned his head to try and face you as much as was possible from the passenger seat. "Y/N, we need to know where the bleeding is coming from."

You shook your head again.

"It's okay. We just need to know. We won't make fun of you."

You shook your head again.

"It- It hurts," you whimpered.

"What hurts? Where does it hurt, Short Stack?"

"It hurts to- to sit down."

Jay swallowed and his voice cracked when he said, "Possible anal or vaginal trauma."

***

You went through all the pokes and prods and the rape kit. You didn't even flinch once. But, what scared you the most was when Jay, Will, and Hailey came into the room once everything was finished.

"What happened?" Will whispered with sadness lacing his voice and eyes.

"I can't- I can't tell you," you whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because it's my fault," you said a little louder while looking down at your hands.

"None of this is your fault. None of it, you hear me?"

"But it is!" you yelled, catching all three of them off guard. "I told them my boundaries and my price and they didn't care! I told them condoms! I told them no anal! They tied me up and broke my glasses and cut me with the glass and they hit me and- and--" You cut yourself off with a scream.

"Hailey, can you stay with Y/N?" Jay asked. "I need to go talk with Will." He turned his gaze to Will. "Will. Outside. Now."

Jay and Will left the room and Hailey pulled a chair next up next to the hospital bed you were currently lying in.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Hailey asked gently.

"No, you'll arrest me if I do."

Hailey sighed. "No, I won't. I promise I won't. I just want you to be able to talk about it and tell us what happened so that we can help you."

"But what I did was illegal."

"Okay, if you won't tell me what happened, then can you at least tell me why you did it?"

You closed your eyes, nodded, and then opened your eyes. "Can we wait until Jay and Will get back? I don't wanna have to explain it twice."

"Yeah, yeah, we can do that."

While you were having that conversation with Hailey, Jay and Will were across the hospital having their own conversation. And Will was not having it.

"What do you mean we can't press charges?" he yelled. "Do you not see her injuries?"

"I see them, Will. But, you heard what she said! She told them prices! If we went to any other cops besides my unit on this one, they'd charge her with solicitation!" Jay argued.

"Then go to your unit! Have them find the bastards that did this to her!"

"It's not that simple! We'd need to find the guys and she doesn't have names and she probably barely has a description. Where she was, there probably were no security cameras. And, not to mention, if this goes to trial, the jury probably won't believe her because she was essentially  prostituting herself!"

"Fucking hell," Will muttered. "So, what do we do."

"We do what we always do. Help her get through it."

***

Twelve Years Later

"And did they?" the eighteen-year-old girl asked as you sat next to her hospital bed. "Did they help you get through it?"

You nodded. "They most certainly did."

"Did you tell them why you did it?"

"I did," you answered.

"Were they mad?"

"Not at all. They made me feel better actually. They reassured me that I wasn't a burden and then a few months later I got a job and then decided to go back to school for social work. So, I know you've probably had other people say they get it, but I actually do. I'm not just saying that."

"Thank you," she said, "for telling me all that. A lot of people, when I was in the system, just treated me like another case." She paused. "Did they ever catch the men that did that to you?"

You sighed. "Unfortunately no."

"Then how do you know they'll find mine? That I won't go to jail? You said you'd help me!"

"I know, I know and I will. My brother, Jay,--the one who was a cop--is now the sergeant of his unit. And, when I bring these cases to him, he makes them a priority and he's never arrested the girls, only the pimps and johns," you answered calmly.

"You promise he won't arrest me?"

"I promise. Do you want me to call him so we can start pressing charges?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay." You grabbed one of your business cards and handed it to her. "My office number is on here and so is my personal cell phone number. Feel free to call me if you need to. And, I can recommend some good therapists to you later if you want me to."

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." You were almost out of the room when you remembered something. "Oh, and if you're still in the hospital and can't get ahold of me on either number, see that red-headed doctor over there?" She nodded. "That's my brother, Will. Just ask him to call me."

"I will. Thank you again."

You walked out of the room to see Will smirking at you. "You know, one day getting too close to your patients is going to bite you in the ass, right, kiddo?"

"One, they're called clients, not patients in my field. And two, I'm thirty years old! Stop calling me kiddo!"

"You're still younger than me. Therefore, you're still a kid." He looked at his watch. "Shit. Gotta go. Meetings never wait when you're chief of the ED!"

You waved your hand flippantly. "Yeah, yeah, get going. Make sure you keep me updated as much as you can on her case though."

"You know I always do."

He ran off to whatever meeting he had to go to while you went to find a secluded spot in the hospital.

Once you found a good spot, you pulled out your phone and dialed an all-too-familiar number.

"Halstead," he answered.

"For the love of God, I know you have caller ID, just answer it as Jay," you joked.

"I just like messing with you. What's up?"

"I've got another case for you."

"Christ, that's the second one this week."

"Well, this one got pimped out, too and by what she told me, it could be the same guy."

"Any mention of underage girls?"

"She didn't mention it, but this one's newly eighteen, so I'm assuming he or they or whoever it is, are running underage girls."

"Okay," Jay said. "This will actually be a full-on Intelligence case; not just one me, Hailey, Adam, Kim, and Kevin figure out and send patrol to pick them up." He paused. "Wanna be in the room when we talk to her?"

"Please. I told her my story and I think she trusts me."

"I told you that you couldn't let that define you. And look at you now, giving these girls hope."

"Yeah," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face. "Look at me now."

A/N: Thanks for reading and Sorry, this one took so long to get out to you! Please remember to reblog and comment! If you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88​

#jay halstead #will halstead #hailey upton #dylan scott #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfic #will halstead imagine #will halstead fanfic #will halstead fanfiction #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #writer #writing #my writing

[anotheronechicagobog]

Matt helping pregnant Sylvie through her pregnancy HC

Matt has wanted to be a dad for years

It didn't work out with Hallie or Gabby so he was afraid it might never happen

But then, he and Sylvie get together, and get married after dating for a year, and eight months after their wedding day Sylvie greets him home from a construction site with a smile and a positive pregnancy test

He is ECSTATIC

He spends the next weeks until they can announce it on cloud nine (Kelly knows that something is up but just thinks he's getting great sex)

But at the same time... It's also completely panic inducing

Their job is dangerous, and since patients are unpredictable Sylvie's job is arguably more dangerous than his (she's been held at gunpoint far more than he'd like to acknowledge)

So he's on edge every time they're on shift, he's so mind numbingly happy, but he's so, so worried

They responded to a nasty multiple car pile up as a house, Casey had just finished helping free a family from their vehicle when he looked over to where Sylvie was treating the drunk jackass that had started this whole mess, she was trying to give him an IV and get him to stay seated on the gurney, Matt had turned to look at her just in time for this guy to punch her

Matt saw red

Sylvie fell flat on her back and cried out in pain

Matt was so thankful that Severide acted at the same time, so he was able to run straight to Sylvie

'Sylvie are you okay?!'

'I'm fine'

'You got hit hard and fell on your back, you could have a concussion... You could have miscarried! We need to get you to med now!'

Matt was so focused on getting Sylvie into an ambulance that he didn't realize he'd revealed their secret three weeks before they planned

This isn't pointed out to him until after Manning completed Sylvie's ultrasound and told them both she and the baby was just fine, but they were still going to need to wait for her CT results

'Uh... Matt, we should probably talk about what happened at the scene'

'Yes, yes, you're right. I freaked out, and I know that we try to be as professional as possible on the job, but I'm sure that everyone understands-'

'No, Matt, not about that. You revealed my pregnancy to the whole firehouse'

'Ohhhhhhh... Shiiiit. I'm sorry.'

'Dont worry about it. But you get to go tell them we're both alright'

'Fair enough'

So after Sylvie's CT came back clear, Matt took a deep breath and walked into the waiting room where the entire firehouse was waiting

'Sylvie's fine, everyone. Her CT came back clean'

Severide stood up, 'And the baby?'

'The baby's fine, they're both fine'

Cheers erupted, startling the charge nurse

The happy couple received congratulations from everyone they knew for the next week

Sylvie's morning sickness is okay, always happens in the afternoon around 4:15, but other than that she's okay, still Matt has taken to keeping a stash of ginger ale and saltines in his locker, as well as packs of all the cookies and chips that Sylvie craves

He makes all her favourite foods whenever he can

He always asks for extra ultrasound pics at the doctor's office so that he can put one up in his locker

When Sylvie hit her second trimester she started to get a lot of joint and muscle pain

Matt went to great lengths to research every muscle/joint soothing cream or method he could find

He also took a maternity massage class, Sylvie was so surprised when he revealed that to her but was so grateful

Her back starts to hurt towards the beginning of the third trimester so Matt searches for two days and goes to multiple stores to find the highest rated pregnancy pillow

The pillow helps so much, that she does more that sleep with it

She starts bringing it out into the living room, sitting on it, cuddling it

Matt knows it's ridiculous, but he's jealous of a pillow

He tries not to let it get to him, but everyone notices

'Dude, it's a pillow. How could you possibly be jealous of a pillow?'

'Severide. Shut it.'

One day Sylvie sighs, grabs the pillow, and a pair of scissors and tells him to cut up the pillow

'What?'

'Me using this pillow us clearly upsetting you, so, here. Go ahead'

'Sylvie, no, I know how much comfort this pillow brings you, I just... I miss holding you'

'Well, want to cuddle now?'

'Always'

Sylvie's third trimester is a doozy, her morning sickness comes back full force and with a vengeance

It's so bad that she has to be prescribed medication

She'd gone off physical work and to desk work in her second trimester just because of how volatile some of her patients were, but she ended up having to go on maternity leave earlier than expected because of how bad her pregnancy symptoms got

He loves her so much, and as they get closer to the due date he starts to worry because Julie died in delivery, what if the same thing happened to Sylvie?

When Sylvie did finally go into labour (early) Matt was being held hostage by an arsonist

Perfect, right?

Matt is rushed to the hospital by officer Atwater, just in time for the birth

They had a beautiful baby girl who they name Andrea Briana, after Andy and Brian, two of their most beloved friends

She smiles just as bright as her mother and has the same twinkle in her eyes as her father and is the light of both their lives

Their baby girl ends up being their first but not only child, as they take in the Darden boys when Griffin seeks him out

It's a little rough at first, but soon enough Andrea has both boys wrapped around her finger

#one Chicago #Chicago fire #sylvie brett #sylvie x matt #matt casey x sylvie brett #brettsey #matt casey #griffin darden #ben darden

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one! 

Read previous chapters here!

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee

It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave. 

“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.” 

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”

“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”

You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.

“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you. 

You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh. 

“Where are you?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

“Off fucking the boss man?”

 “Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”

“Fucking slut.”

“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”

“This is ridiculous.’

“So you’re just running away?”

“Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You are so in for it when you get home.”

“I should have killed you.”

There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant. 

“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.” 

 He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.

You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

 “Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.

“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.  

“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up. 

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone. 

“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.

“Hotch--” 

 “Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face. 

“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”

“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked

“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”

“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” 

“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly. 

“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted. 

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.” 

“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion. 

“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”

Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall. 

“Come in,” you called.

“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” 

“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little. 

“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.

“Hotch…” You responded softly. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.

“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”

“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. 

“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.” 

“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.

“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.” 

“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.

“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly. 

“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.

“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered. 

“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up. 

“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.

“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded. 

“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you. 

“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.

“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke. 

“Good point.” She chuckled. 

“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her. 

“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU. 

“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately. 

“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.  

“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.

“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him. 

“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you. 

“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh. 

“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs. 

“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”

Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.

There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes. 

You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can���t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again. 

“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out. 

“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay. Your hand--”

“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen. 

“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer. 

“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head. 

“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it. 

“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles. 

“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it. 

“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you. 

“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?” 

“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?” 

‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly. 

“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m--”

“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?” 

“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.” 

“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”

“If you’re not up to it, we can--”

“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.” 

 The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest. 

“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”

“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist. 

“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up. 

“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle. 

“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile. 

“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.” 

Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.

You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment. 

“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly. 

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk. 

“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.

 “Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually.  At her pace, he reminded himself. 

“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats. 

“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile. 

“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly. 

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”

He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”

“Hotch, I’m---”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.” 

You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. 

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you

[starlightrows]

In The Eye Of The Beholder

Chapter 1

Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: brief description and mildly graphic medical jargon about losing an eye and having a prosthetic implant placed

Summary: Shortly after the events of the Battle of Khorm, the Kaminoans don’t see the value in moving forward with treatment for Commander Wolffe... you, the GAR doctor on the Coruscant disagree

“I don’t remember asking for your goddamn opinion ambassador!” you shout up at the pale long necked Kaminoan, who’s been passively berating you in an attempt to get your patient taken off life support. Your communicator goes off loudly, and you feel no shame in looking at it instead of listening to the Kaminoan ambassadors retort.

“I’m sorry ambassador, but this discussion is over. The requisition for the cybernetic prosthesis has gone through and whether you like it or not, I am going to give that man a fighting chance. He didn’t lay down his life to be tossed out with the garbage. Now get out of my med bay,” your turn on your heel, and begin speaking into your comlink to arrange for the surgery to get underway immediately.

The procedure took nine grueling hours to fully clear out the wound, put in the prosthetic eye and reconstruct the damage to the soldier's facial structure. He stood a good chance of making a full recovery if the cybernetic innervations healed correctly. Now it was just a matter of letting him rest and wake up in his own time.

Most clone troopers in the GAR hospital didn’t get many visitors, most didn’t stay long enough to need visitors though the ones that lived through their ordeals usually recovered on transports back to the front line. But this trooper had a frequent visitor, a Jedi.

“He must be a very good commander for you to check in on him so often,” you comment one afternoon, standing by the door. The tall Kel Dor turned to face you.

“He is. A dutiful, loyal, hardworking commander. But that is not why I come to see him,” he says

“Why then? Certainly a Jedi Master and a General in the Grand Army of the Republic has many duties and responsibilities to see to,” you approach the bed with your tray of fresh wound dressings for his eye.

“The same reason you advocated for him when the Kaminoans wanted to let him die. He is a person. An individual. He is a good man. And he is a member of my team,” he explains while you work to remove the bandages that keep the stitches and cybernetics clean.

“You care for him,” you say with a smile, applying a layer of bacta gel to the stitches with a cotton bud.

“Indeed. I care for him, and all of his brothers that serve under my command. I am not the only one who worries after his health,” The jedi steps around you, trying not to be in the way.

“Well that makes two of us. I don’t even know him, but I want him to live. And not just to keep serving the republic,” you finish applying the bacta gel and begin rewrapping his head with clean bandages.

“You have a good heart doctor, and better view of the troopers than most. I think he’ll like you when he has the chance to formally meet you,” the jedi says

“I should hope so, he’ll have to come back fairly regularly for check ups and case study updates. He’s the first living being with this particular model of prosthesis. If he doesn’t like me, it’ll be a very unpleasant couple months until the study is complete,” you’ve finished wrapping his head, but find you can’t stop looking at his handsome face. True you’ve seen thousands exactly like his before, but right now it’s as if you’ve never seen anyone like him.

“I’ll be the first to admit, he’s stubborn and a bit gruff. But he’s not so bad once you get to know him, he’s fiercely protective and hates to feel weak. This will be a difficult recovery for him, but I have confidence in him. And in you doctor,” you tear your gaze away from the commander and smile at the jedi.

“Thank you master jedi,” you give him a small bow of your head out of respect.

“Plo,” he says “No need for such formalities,” you wonder briefly if he is smiling beneath his deoxygenator, it certainly sounds like it.

“And him? They don’t include their chosen names in their identification codes, just CC and CT numbers. I doubt he goes by his CC number day to day,” you pack away your equipment, unfortunately other patients are waiting, as much as you would love to stay and chat with the kind jedi master. Plo tracks your movements, he senses your rising anxieties about having to leave and attend to other matters in the hospital. Just as you’re about to leave without getting an answer, Plo speaks up.

“His name is Wolffe”

—

Much to your delight, Commander Wolffe does wake up within a few days. And he’s every bit the stubborn, defensive, and unwilling patient Master Plo promised he would be. He keeps getting up and trying to leave despite obviously being in immense physical pain, he’s already ripped his stitches once, and he’s down right refusing to let you get near him to check the wound and change the dressing.

“Commander Wolffe I am at my wits end here. I’m going to step out to allow you a visitor, and when I come back you will be laying on that bed, I am changing those dressings, you are taking your medication. Is that that clear?” You bark at him. He glares at you with his one amber eye but does not respond.

You push the door open and see Master Plo waiting on the other side.

“He’s all yours General, talk some sense into him if you can,” you toss the comment over your shoulder as you head down to the nurses station for a cup of water.

Master Plo enters the patient room, and finds Wolffe pacing against the far wall. His head snaps up, and he visibly struggles to bring the newcomer into his field of vision.

“General!” Wolffe says in surprise, straightening his posture

“Wolffe, your doctor tells me you’re refusing care,” Plo closes the door behind him.

“I should be out there,” Wolffe growls “Kriff… I shouldn’t even be alive right now. They’re keeping me alive to keep me in a box!”

Plo senses that there is something more, something he’s holding back, beyond wanting to be released from med bay.

“You know better than most that withholding the truth can be the determining factor between life and death,” Master Plo says carefully, approaching Wolffe with slow movements “but this truth is one that needs to be shared,”

Wolffe’s shoulders drop and what little color he’s managed to regain drains from his face. His knees give out and he sinks down onto the floor, tears stain both his good cheek and the bandage. Master Plo moves to join him on the floor.

“Good soldiers don’t lay around in hospital beds and weep over superficial pain,” Wolffe says weakly “Soldiers that don’t recover quickly… get decommissioned and sent back to Kamino in a box,”

“You are already recovering quickly, and your doctor can give you something for the pain so you can heal faster,” Plo says cooly “You are not being sent back to Kamino. Your doctor made sure of that,”

“What?” Wolffe was surprised to hear this, up to this point all of his conscious interactions with you had been rather gruff and none too friendly, he can’t imagine why you weren’t doing everything in your power to get him out of your hospital and out of your way.

“A Kaminoan ambassador came to assess treatment at this hospital and saw your condition, they incorrectly assumed that it would be more beneficial to cease all treatment. Your doctor, shall we say, violently disagreed,”

“Violently sir?”

“They were furious she went ahead with the surgery. Believe me, if someone had recorded it on a holo I would show it to you. It was quite the spectacle,” Master Plo laughs “She was adamant that you deserved a fighting chance,”

—

Later that evening after General Plo had left, you returned to Wolffe’s room with a tray of equipment to change his dressings, and medicine to help with the pain.

“Commander Wolffe if I come into this room and you throw something or scream at me, I will have you physically restrained,” you say sharply before fully entering the room. He’s sitting on the bed facing away from the door.

“I won’t yell,” he replies quietly without turning around, his tone is decidedly gentler than before. Whatever the General said to him must have done the trick. You approach him cautiously, rounding the end of his bed so you could get a good look at him. His face is set in a harsh grimace.

“Are you in pain?” You ask. He nods but doesn’t reply. “I am going to change those dressings and we’re gonna test out that new eye. I think with a good dose of anti inflammatory medication, and some intraocular movement you’ll feel better,”

He nods again, you drag a chair over and sit in front of him, he doesn’t bat your hand away when you move to unwrap his bandages. The silvery white cybernetic eye under the protective padding is downcast to match its whiskey gold twin. The stitches are finally healing up with the help of the bacta gel.

“Good news Commander I think you’re healed enough you won’t need a fresh bandage. Now let’s see how well this prosthesis works. Can you look at my nose?” You remove a penlight from your pocket and shine it in each of his eyes.

You run through a series of tests asking him to stare straight ahead at you, follow the light with his eyes, and tell you when he can or can’t see you moving the end of the pen out of his vision. Pressure and tightness on his left side subsides he continues moving his eye around.

“Your reactions look normal, how does it feel?” you click off your penlight and tuck it away.

“Hurts a bit less,” he quietly admits “I’m sorry about before,”

His change in demeanor is a surprise but a welcome one, far better than him trying to escape or aggressively get away from you. You give him a small cup with the anti inflammatory medicine in it, and second small cup with water. He takes the pills without complaint. You remain seated in front of him, to maintain this comfortable closeness.

“It’s okay. I know this isn’t easy,” you give him a sympathetic look.

“General Plo mentioned that you advocated for me, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you…” he falters “thank you,”

That familiar feeling you had before when he was still on life support crept back up on you. Heartbreak for how much he and his brothers have to sacrifice, longing to show him the appreciation he deserves, and something else, something you can’t place.

“This war won’t last forever. You deserve the chance to live in the freedom and peace you fight so hard to protect,”

He’s a bit stunned. Sure he’s heard a handful of politicians advocating for clone rights, but he’s never heard anyone say something like this. He can tell your words are genuine and heartfelt.

“Is there any way I can repay you, or thank you for sticking your neck out for me?” He asks “It takes guts to stand up to those soulless bastards,”

“Well ah… don’t thank me too fast. I know you didn’t exactly sign up for this but your prosthetic is a brand new top of the line prototype. By default you’re a participant in the longitudinal study of its effectiveness,” you admit sheepishly. He raises an eyebrow and peers at you. “On the positive side, you’ll get a bit more shore leave to come in for appointments,”

“Well that’s certainly nothing to complain about. My offer still stands, can I take you out as a thank you?”

You smile warmly and quirk up a brow to match him. “Take me out? Hm… I get off in a couple hours and you’re being discharged from med bay today, I’m game if you give me a chance to run home and ditch my scrubs,”

“It’s a deal,”

#Star Wars #Clone Wars #Commander Wolffe #Wolffe #cc 3636 #commander wolffe x reader #commander Wolffe x fem reader #my clone husband

[youngerdrgrey]

I know you (even if you don’t want me to) // a Batwoman fic, chapter 7

about: After finding out Batwoman’s identity, Sophie tries to trap Ryan with her newfound knowledge. If she’s going to be on the outside, she might as well have some fun – and maybe fall in love along the way. #WildMoore

CHAPTER SEVEN (even if we're working): Ryan and Sophie go to the dance at the Sheldon Park Community Center! Batwoman is back! So are feelings! + read on ao3 previously: read chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five + chapter six (mini recap on AO3’s notes)

notes: I am... so nervous and so ready for y'all to read this chapter. please comment/reply/reblog and all that fun stuff. this is also quite the long one.

🦇

Ryan hops from one foot to the other. She keeps the pressure mostly on the pads of her feet. Light and nimble. Finally back at full form with only one day left in her two week recovery period. She’d do a flip if it wouldn’t make Mary’s head explode. Or disrupt the perfect tuck of her Center Volunteer shirt. Then again, Mary does anxiously hover in the doorway of Ryan’s bathroom. Maybe she’ll explode on her own.

“Mary, seriously?” Ryan reaches for her favorite purple lipstick. “I’m making mocktails and guarding the punch bowl. I’m not even dancing. Doctor’s orders.”

The doctor in question stabs a finger out at Ryan. Mary manages to look menacing even in her little scrubs. “If you so much as think about doing the Wobble—” She stomps into the bathroom.

It’s truly one of the greatest dances of all mankind. Ryan crosses her lipstick tube across her heart.

Mary continues, “I’m leaving you to climb up the stairs on your own. No ice pack, or pain meds, or anything.” Mary takes a deep breath. “Fortunately for you….” She walks over to Ryan to adjust the hair on Ryan’s shoulder. “I know someone who might help you out. Depending on how well your side mission is going.”

If they can call Ryan talking to Sophie a side mission. Ryan applies her lipstick and rubs her lips together.

Mary bats expectant eyes towards the mirror. “You’ve been getting along. Can I draft up the offer letter?”

Ryan smacks her lips. “She’s still a Crow, Mary.”

“A Crow you spent, like, all of yesterday on the phone with.”

Ryan didn’t spend all of yesterday on the phone with Sophie. In the morning, they texted about how awful the playlist for the dance might be. Then they swapped bad songs in the afternoon. Ryan’s personal favorite was a religious remix of ‘The Thong Song’ that truly had to be a parody. (“That God, Go-God, God, God.”) Then they told their personal dance horror stories after Sophie was off work. There were breaks.

Before Ryan can defend herself, her phone lights up from beside the sink. Sophie’s name flashes, and Ryan’s got her phone in her hands in seconds. Mary snorts.

Crowphie to Ryan Have fun making Shirley Temples all night. Here’s hoping someone will forget their school ID so there’s some action at the ticket table

Ryan leans her hip into the sink as she types.

Ryan to Crowphie 👀 You’re looking for action at a school dance?

Crowphie to Ryan Oh yeah, fingers crossed my crush saves me a slow one.

It’s a joke. It has to be, but Ryan thinks back to each near moment between them and feels hope and heat in her cheeks.

Ryan to Crowphie Too bad Batwoman doesn’t do dances

Crowphie to Ryan That’s probably for the best. We’re not on the best terms right now.

Not since the night Sophie rejected Batwoman. The night of “Figure that out, and get back to me. Until you do, I’m done.” Did she really mean that?

Ryan to Crowphie What happened there? She miss a signal flip this week?

Crowphie to Ryan I haven’t used it. I doubt she’d want me to. I think I hurt her feelings.

That’s an understatement.

Mary clears her throat behind Ryan. Ryan glances up into the mirror to see Mary’s reflection. The teasing grin matches the tilt in Mary’s voice as she says, “You were saying? About not texting Sophie all day?”

Ryan narrows her eyes as dramatically as she can. “Don’t you have lives to save?”

Mary backs away. “Fine, go back to texting, just think about how much fun you could have talking to Sophie on the comms if she were part of the team.”

Ryan can’t help the sarcasm. “Because me and Luke have so much fun?”

“Obviously it’d be a different kind of fun. Less brother-sister fighting and more….” Mary pauses to think and cringes at whatever she thinks of. Ryan turns around to gently push Mary out of her bathroom.

“Good night, Mary!” she says before closing the door behind her roommate. She probably should’ve stepped out there too, come to think of it. Her phone buzzes again though.

Crowphie to Ryan I do miss going up to the roof. You know, feeling like I’m a part of something, even if I never will be

Ryan drops down onto the stool in the bathroom. It’s an accessibility aid that’s kind of perfect for moments like this. She can take her time. Process without having to actually move around in here. Close her eyes and remember what the wind of the rooftop felt like against her cheeks. With the suit tight to her body and all of Gotham below them. Sophie looks amazing up there.

Ryan to Crowphie You could go flip the signal. Send out that city-wide ‘you up?’ Or an actual you up since you have her number.

Sophie hasn’t texted Batwoman once in the last two weeks.

Crowphie to Ryan You don’t understand.

Ryan chuckles. She’s the only other person that could.

Ryan to Crowphie No, I get it. You could text her if you wanted to talk. Going up there would mean that you want to see her. You want to be with her.

Want to touch her the way that Ryan did that night on the roof. The pads of her fingers over Sophie’s waist, their faces so close that it’s a wonder Sophie hasn’t recognized her yet. It goes to show that Sophie’s not that into Ryan as Ryan. She hasn’t memorized the way Ryan’s jaw sits, or the shade of her eyes.

Crowphie to Ryan yeah

Yeah what? Yeah which? Because Sophie didn’t say that she wanted her back.

Ryan to Crowphie So you admit it? You want Batwoman?

The typing dots come and go, then come again. Maybe it’s not about Batwoman at all. Maybe Sophie just wants to make out on the roof and be a part of the team. She wants to be Batwoman’s friend with benefits and can’t bring herself to admit it. Fine. Don’t admit anything.

Ryan to Crowphie Can’t blame you. She looks good in the suit 😏 — probably looks good out of it too lol

A perfect cop out for the cop.

Crowphie to Ryan If I wanted to see her without the mask, I could have. We flew together, remember?

Ryan tenses. A painful chill zips down her spine. Does Sophie know? Has she known all this time?

Crowphie to Ryan I didn’t look then because it’s not about her looks or who’s behind the mask. She makes me think. Both Batwomen have. 1.0 got me suspended. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to leaving the Crows. But it wasn’t about everyone then, you know? Jacob Kane hated Batwoman, and I really liked her. Those couldn’t exist at the same time. Meanwhile, 2.0 will not remove her boots from my neck. She’s like you in that way. She takes every opportunity to question my loyalty to the Crows and the people of Gotham. I just wish I knew if I was doing the same. If I was more than just another compromise for her

Fuck, it’s a good thing that they’re texting. Ryan’s whole face burns with that message. It’s not like she can admit that Sophie’s changed anything for her. If anything, Sophie helps hold her up. Helps legitimize her when she doubts that she can handle something. Sometimes, it’s by accident, but sometimes, it’s clear that Sophie wants Batwoman to believe in the good that’s happening.

Since when is Sophie questioning anything anyway? She never wavers.

Ryan to Crowphie Your Crow-workers beat the shit out of Batwoman 1.0, and you stayed.

Crowphie to Ryan Where else was I supposed to go? The GCPD? I *HATE* what they did, but that will NEVER happen again.

Ryan to Crowphie And if it does?

She’s being generous by not saying “when it does.”

Crowphie to Ryan Then I slap my resume on the Bat-signal and hope she doesn’t throw it in the shredder.

Ryan to Crowphie Much more fun to use it for target practice.

Crowphie to Ryan Throw a bunch of Batarangs at it?

Ryan to Crowphie See, you get it 😉

Crowphie to Ryan It’s important to me that little Black girls can see women like us in law enforcement and positions of powers. I want them to know that they can save the world if they want to. It’s not their responsibility, but if it’s their purpose? If protecting people makes them happy, then I want them to know that they are not alone out there. They can make a difference.

There are so many other ways to make a difference. Ryan might have to let Sophie have this for now though. Her heart’s in the right place at least.

Ryan to Crowphie And if that doesn’t work out, there’s always being a ticket taker for a community dance. Shine that flashlight. Ruin somebody’s night!

Crowphie to Ryan Wowww. Spoken like a trouble maker.

Ryan to Crowphie Trouble finds me, okay? No need to worry about me, Agent Moore.

Crowphie to Ryan You sure about that? Your kids might try to fight you, just to see if you’ve still got it.

Ryan to Crowphie Oh I’ve got it. They’ll be too busy following you around to even notice me. Ol’ “Miss Sophie, Miss Sophie” punk asses

Crowphie to Ryan lol. Ten bucks says they ask me where Batwoman’s been hiding.

Ryan to Crowphie Twenty says they don’t.

Crowphie to Ryan Easy money. You can drop it off at the lobby on your way in 😉

Ryan to Crowphie You just want me to save you

Crowphie to Ryan From the kids?

Ryan would save Sophie from anything.

Crowphie to Ryan Absolutely.

🦇

Jordan’s more nervous than Sophie’s ever seen her. She’s at least stopped pacing the multi-purpose room of the Center. Now, she bends and re-bends the ID badge on her staff lanyard in her hands. Sophie tries to be understanding. She knows Jordan’s just checking that the lobby is ready. The balloons along the walls outside and inside are perfectly spaced. The decorations are slightly corny, enough that the kids can break the ice by poking fun. But a few of the kids have definitely spotted Jordan from their place outside. They point and laugh through the still closed, glass front doors.

“Jordan, breathe.”

Sophie reaches out to tug Jordan’s lanyard out of her grip. The lights in the lobby reflect off of the plastic badge. It’s not quite the same as adjusting Jordan’s necklaces before her old school dances, but the deja vu hits Sophie anyway. Her little sister’s really running an organization. And terrified.

She goes on, “You’ve done fundraisers and grand openings. You can handle a social event.”

Jordan nods, but doubt still clouds her brown eyes. Her restless hands come up to the ends of her braids instead. “Most dances have, like, royalty crownings, or something to make them pop. We don’t —“ she gulps “— have anything like that. It’s a decorated auditorium with no theme. What if the DJ sucks?”

“Then you tell them to start taking requests.” Sophie grabs Jordan’s shoulders to turn Jordan towards the doors. Outside of them, all the kids and teens chat excitedly. Their outfits are a range — some with clearly reworn dresses from Homecomings, some in more casual looks — and they all can’t wait to be let in. “You’ve done amazing with this Center. Thanks for letting me come see it.”

Jordan takes a shaky breath. “You should thank Ryan too.”

“I’ve thanked Ryan plenty,” Sophie says. Jordan makes a delighted, scandalized sound that has Sophie’s cheeks heating up. Sophie cuts her eyes to the other part of the lobby where another volunteer’s pretending to care about the entry stamps for the kids. “I mean—”

Jordan rolls her eyes. “I know what you mean. You’ve gotta relax, dude. You look stressed.”

Sophie pinches Jordan’s shoulder in retaliation. Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out, her brows furrowing as she reads.

2.0 🦇 to Sophie Come outside.

Her eyes jump back to the front doors. Where she used to see the kids looking back, all she sees are their backs and shoulders as they shove and push their way away from the front. Their excited chatter turns into small shrieks. In a daze, Sophie rushes forward. Jordan’s right on her heels.

“Sophie, what—”

Sophie unlocks the doors and steps out into the warm early evening air. She scans the crowd, then the nearby buildings before seeing her. Batwoman, waving down at them from the roof of the diner across the street. Sophie’s heart flips in her chest. The sunset’s right behind Ryan, casting this otherworldly glow around the flowing cape and endless curls of the Batwoman wig. For a second, Sophie can’t breathe.

“Holy shit.” Jordan laughs from beside her. A few kids glance up at the language, but before they can comment on it, a Batarang zips through the air, flying straight over the kids and right through their decorative balloons. The balloons burst with confetti, and Sophie laughs before pulling the Batarang out of the wall.

All the teens cheer. Their voices overlap as they record on their phones. “She’s here! She’s back! Look at her!”

Batwoman calls out to them, “I’m not staying.” The built-in speakers project her voice out to the crowd. “I’m not much for dances, but I heard you were celebrating this Center tonight. It might seem simple, but spaces like this can save lives. I should know. Somebody here saved me.”

All the kids from Ryan’s class look at Sophie. They all whisper — in that kid way that’s more of a tone than a volume level. Sophie can’t look at them. If she does, she’ll look away from Ryan and this ridiculous, simple, glorious moment of appreciation.

Batwoman chuckles, and her mic picks it up. “I trust that you’ll be the ones saving people soon. So, until you’re ready, you can tell Vesper Fairchild that the Bat is back. Tell Black Mask and False Face too. Gotham’s our city, and we’re changing it for the better.” Batwoman raises a closed fist in a toast. “To Sheldon Park Community!”

Everyone screams it back. “To Sheldon Park!” Batwoman throws her hand down, and red smoke bursts up to block the view to the other roof. The kids jump over each other to try and see through it. Sophie knows that Ryan’ll be back in this building by the time the smoke fully clears.

The students turn their excitement towards Sophie once they can’t find Batwoman. Their questions rush out.

“Miss Sophie, is it you?”

“Miss Sophie, tell the story.”

“Miss Sophie, over here!”

In all of that, Jordan finally calms down. She claps her hands together. “You can ask her all about it inside the dance. IDs out. Let’s go.”

Jordan holds open the doors to let the kids file in. Sophie uses the hand that’s not holding a Batarang to hold open the other. Even as she knows everyone’s watching her, she can’t find it in her to care. Ryan showed up. For her.

🦇

Luke is going to kill her. He presses the buzzer on the comms again and again. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buuuuuuuuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz.

Ryan finally answers the comms with a hiss. “What!?” The shuffle of clothing means she must be changing already. Probably hiding out in an employee bathroom at the Center with the door locked and her biggest secret one accidental backpack drop from being out there for the whole world.

Luke scoffs. He at least lets go of the buzzer. “You took the suit just to say hi to Sophie?” Her blinking red dot shows him exactly where she is. Even without that, news of Batwoman’s reappearance is already on Twitter.

Mary chimes in from beside Luke. She leans forward to the mic in a way that’s honestly pretty freaking cute. “Not that I don’t love a romantic gesture, but Sophie doesn’t need all that. She’s a simple girl.”

“I’m not —” Ryan yelps before a thud comes through. Did she fall while changing? Is there gonna be pee on the suit? She says, “I’m inspiring the children. What are you doing? Besides stalking me on a Friday night.”

Luke says, “We’re not stalking you.” But the red light still tells him where she is. They’re monitoring the crime in Gotham. They’re doing their jobs as vigilante support. “You’re all over Twitter.”

“Good. Let them know I’m back. Maybe you two could go out on the town. Throw a few Batarangs into the walls. Give False Face something to look for. Either way, I gotta go.” Ryan clicks the comms off without waiting for another word. She flips off the tracker too.

As the red light disappears, Luke grinds his teeth. She’s going to kill him, just by being herself. He bounces his leg. “If she wants to play, fine. Let’s play.” He rolls his shoulders back. It draws Mary’s eyes to him. It’s probably the low light of the cave that makes her gaze feel warmer than usual.

“Play what?” she asks, and there’s a rebellious playfulness in her curiosity. A need to be seen that he both recognizes and knows he shouldn’t be encouraging.

“She did say we should go out on the town.” Luke reaches for the control box that starts up the Batmobile’s full system AI. Admittedly, it’s a high intensity piece of hardware that should only be used for emergencies. It also feels a bit like the best virtual reality racing game in the world.

Mary’s face lights up.

🦇

Ryan limps a bit heavier with her backpack on her shoulder. She tucks her volunteer shirt into her jeans and rounds the corner from the staff hallway into the main hall. Pop music pulses through the walls. Ryan is definitely late for her mock-bartending shift. Hopefully Jordan won’t care too much about how long it took Ryan to change back out of the suit.

The hall’s mostly empty by this point. Everyone checked in and on the dance floor. Everyone except for Celeste — the little traitor from Ryan’s class — who smiles at Sophie from the other side of the check-in table.

As Ryan walks closer, she hears Celeste trying to convince Sophie to come inside. “The ticket takers never stay out here the whole dance. That’d be so boring.”

Ryan projects her voice. “More boring than this?” Sophie turns to look at Ryan, and the relief on Sophie’s face at the rescue is worth the glare Celeste sends Ryan’s way. Celeste has some heat for being twelve.

Celeste mutters, “Hi, Miss Ryan.”

Ryan mocks the tone. “Hi, Celeste.” Her feet pad along the ground until she gets to the table beside Sophie. Celeste’s glare only increases. “Get in there. Go dance with somebody your own size.”

Celeste smirks. “You mean like you?”

Ryan gasps at the same time that Sophie bursts out laughing.

Ryan complains, “You hit one growth spurt, and suddenly think you can clown me. I’m spitting in your drink.”

Celeste cringes. “I’ll tell Miss Jordan.”

Ryan holds an arm out towards the multi-purpose room. “Go ahead and tell her.” It’s a trap, and Celeste recognizes then that she’s stepped into it. She huffs.

“Fine.” She turns her bright preteen eyes over at Sophie. “You’re gonna come in, right?”

Sophie — the sap — smiles as she nods to Celeste. “I’m right behind you.” Celeste smiles back at Sophie before finally going into the dance. The music gets louder as she goes through the door. A little glimmer of colored lights slips out into the hall, then leaves just as quick.

Some of the air must go with her. Ryan finds it hard to breathe for a second. Sophie turns in her chair to look up at Ryan. Admittedly, the view of Sophie Moore staring up at her does not make the breathing thing any easier. Sophie’s eyes are lighter than normal. It’s the awful hall lighting and her soft eyeshadow. The humor of it all is imprinted in them.

“You are late,” Sophie tells her.

“With good reason!” Ryan protests.

Sophie’s eyebrows raise, and her eyes shine even brighter. Like there’s a joke Ryan isn’t in on. “Oh yeah? And what’s that reason, Ryan?”

Ryan’s ready for the question though. “I had to stop and get this.” She spins her backpack around and unzips the smaller front pouch. She tugs out a crisp ten dollar bill and slides it onto the table. “I heard Batwoman showed up. Sucks to lose the money but —” She shrugs. “It might be worth it.”

Sophie grins down at the money on the table. “I have something for you too.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out the Batarang. She slides that back across the table. Ryan does a great job of keeping her face neutral, even as her heart rate triples in speed.

“Why would you give that to me?”

“Look at it.”

Ryan’s hand shakes as she reaches for it. Had she left something on the Batarang? It looks the same as always. She picks it up, and her fingers immediately graze something taped to the bottom of it. A quick turn of the Batarang shows a twenty dollar bill stuck on the back. Ryan’s shoulders sink in relief.

“They don’t care where she was hiding,” Sophie explains. “They’re more interested in who she’s dating.”

Thank goodness for shippers. Ryan peels the money off and holds the Batarang back out to Sophie. “As your unofficial date, I think she’d want you to have it. It’s better than a corsage, right?”

Sophie laughs at that. She reaches out, her fingers grazing Ryan’s. God, her hands are soft. Ryan tries to focus on the familiar weight of the Batarang in her palm, not the way her heart keeps flipping in her chest.

“You know,” Sophie starts, voice low and quiet, “she was right about the Crows. They don’t care about what happens to the kids here.” Sophie takes her Batarang fully into her hand. “But, uh, I am putting in a request for my own task force. Maybe make some good changes on my own.”

Ryan blinks that in. “Are you serious?”

Sophie scrambles, verbally stumbling over herself. “I-I would choose the Crows myself. Vet them, make sure that there aren’t any Tavaroffs in the batch, but… yeah….” She nods. “This is our city. All of it, not just the Crows district.”

Ryan beams. She could kiss Sophie right now — not even in a gay way, just in a proud way. It’s not as good as quitting, but it’s a chance to help these kids who need them. As far as compromises go, Ryan could take it.

Sophie looks proud too, but nervous about admitting it. Like she actually cares what Ryan thinks of her.

“Look at you, Crowphie 2.0.”

Sophie shines under the praise. She rolls her eyes after, but her shoulders sit higher and her breath comes easier. She turns the Batarang in her fingers nervously. “A corsage would’ve been easier to wear. Less dangerous for the kids too.”

“Oh, please, they’re fine.” Ryan’s cockiness comes back tenfold. “Batwoman can handle popping a balloon, okay. She’s a beast.”

Sophie laughs at that. “How would you know? You missed her surprise.”

Ryan shrugs, a little smirk on her lips. “I have seen her throw a little somethin’ somethin’ before. She’s not as good as me but—“

“Oh you?” Sophie stands up. Ryan doesn’t step back, so that leaves Sophie towering over her. Ryan tilts her head up to maintain their new stare. Sophie asks, “You think you can beat her?” She slides the Batarang back into Ryan’s hand. “Be my guest.”

As the heat between them simmers, Ryan’s torn between throwing the Batarang and throwing up. Fuck.

A throat clears from the main doorway. Ryan and Sophie both look over to find Imani studying them. Her eyes zero in on the very limited space between their bodies. Their linked hands. Their faces angled towards each other. Sophie takes a step back, but Imani’s tight smile says she’s already seen enough.

“Don’t stop for me.” Imani steps into the hallway. Her tight smile splinters as she tries to relax it. “Go ahead, Ry. Be her guest."

🦇

Luke and Mary cheer, as Mary swerves through the streets of Gotham in the A.I. Batmobile. The virtual seat is slightly comfier than the one in the car. Luke can backseat drive from right over Mary’s shoulder here. He stands beside the chair to get the best look at the monitor that mirrors the windshield view.

“This is so much better than my car!” She laughs again as she takes a hard turn on the road. Luke’s torn between watching the road for her and watching the way her whole face lights up as she drives.

It’s like he gets to enjoy the drive for the first time all over again. The last time Mary got to drive the Batmobile, there wasn’t time for playing around. This time, though, she can see some of the toys in their arsenal.

He leans lower, so his head’s right over her shoulder to point at one of the switches on the dashboard. “Okay, try this one. Watch the light.”

They’re quickly approaching a yellow light before Mary flips the switch. A charged glow follows the flip. Then a beeping that’s clearly in the Bat-cave, and they both watch on the monitor as the yellow light begins to turn red before flickering back to yellow.

“Whoa.” She soars through the yellow with another laugh. “That is definitely illegal.”

“Yeah.” His chuckle’s probably too close to her ear. She glances up at it, and he has never been this close to Mary’s face before. He loses his words for a moment. The light elongater is actually against the law, but it’s really helpful in high speed chases. It keeps the streets safer while they rush to get away. It keeps the lights where they need them. God, her eyes are glowing right now. Bright and content and comfortable in a way that Mary never gets to be anymore. Or maybe ever was.

She deserves to be happy. Everybody forgets that, but Luke never forgets. Luke — he hears a honk of another car.

“Mary, look—!”

She swerves as her eyes jump back to the road. The Batmobile crashes through a stop sign, taking it clear off. “Shit!”

Luke groans. Mary stress-laughs as she speeds away from the problem. She says, “Bright side: they’ll definitely know she’s back.”

🦇

Sophie unloads a few cases of Sprite behind Ryan’s pop-up bar counter. With the music going, the silence between them makes sense. Sophie can help slide the drinks to the kids while Ryan plops cherries into their Shirley Temples. But eventually, the string of kids eases up. Then it’s just them, just Ryan and Sophie, alone again.

On the other side of the gym, to the right of the dance floor, Imani hands out props for the photo booth. The center of the dance floor is packed with most of their braver teens. Some groups of outliers line the center. Those are the ones who dance a little sillier, or ‘ironically’ enjoy the dance. Then there are the wistful ones who clench the drinks that Ryan’s made for them. They linger near the edges of the dance floor and alternate between rolling their eyes at the dancers and watching their every move.

Sophie clears her throat to bring Ryan’s attention back from people watching. She apologizes. “Sorry if I made things weird for you and Imani.”

Ryan opts to laugh. “What’s weird about any of this?”

Sophie chances a glance at Imani again. The other woman averts her eyes once hers meet Sophie’s. Sophie might not have all of the details there, but it couldn’t be good that Imani saw them like that.

“Maybe she’s better than me, but if I saw someone I was…” Sophie searches for the right word. They don’t seem to be dating necessarily. She settles on, “seeing that close to somebody else….”

Ryan turns, so her hip rests against the bar and her focus can be on Sophie. “So you’re possessive,” Ryan concludes. She doesn’t sound turned off by the idea. In fact, if Sophie didn’t know any better, Ryan sounds into it.

“Try not to sound so excited,” Sophie says.

Ryan gives a low hum. “You haven’t seen excited.” Sophie finds her mouth drier than it should be.

“Ew,” comes a third voice. A higher, Celeste voice that reeks of regret. The preteen scrunches her nose on the other side of the bar, then catches herself. Her cheeks flush at being caught eavesdropping. She pushes her empty cup over to Ryan. “I wanted a refill, not to hear your… flirting.”

Sophie hands Ryan a can of Sprite. Ryan pops the lid and says, “That’s what you get for listening in. If you’d come just a little later….”

“Again, ew.” Celeste shakes her head. “First you abandon us—“

“Hey!”

“Then you leave us with the worst sub—“

“I don’t pick the subs.“

Celeste plants both her hands on the counter. “Well, you should. I’m serious. Next time you get hurt—“

Ryan splashes in the grenadine and gasps. “Who says there’ll be a next time?”

Celeste gives her a dubious look. Ryan actually shrinks under it. Celeste glances at Sophie, who really can’t help but wink back at her. Celeste rushes through her next words. “Just come watch us anyway. Some of the other kids really missed you. Your jokes are bad, but you know what you’re talking about. And you don’t treat us like kids.”

Sophie does her best not to aww at the show of vulnerability. Ryan’s said before that she thinks Celeste has a crush on Sophie, but it’s clear who Celeste’s real favorite is. She looks up to Ryan — metaphorically speaking. How does Ryan do that? How does she make everyone she meets fall for her?

Ryan slides the drink to Celeste, who takes a sip to hide her own emotions. “So stay, or get Miss Sophie to watch us. She’d do it. She likes you.”

Sophie stutters. “I-I don’t—“

Microphone feedback cuts off the rest of Sophie’s sentence. Jordan cheers from beside the DJ with a huge smile. “Next up, we’ve got a special song to celebrate Ryan’s return. This was requested anonymously.” Jordan dramatically and heavily turns to face where Ryan and Sophie are working. She sing-songs, “I wonder who it was.”

The opening notes of T-Pain’s ‘Bartender’ start playing. Most of the teens seem confused, but the chaperones all cheer and laugh. Sophie busies herself with glaring at Jordan.

Ryan laughs. “You actually requested it?”

Sophie shrugs. “I mean, it is your song.” Not only is it appropriate for the night, but Ryan loves songs she can sing along to. She loves putting on a show, and Sophie can’t think of a better way to spend the night than watching Ryan actually have fun.

Ryan beams. Celeste fake vomits onto the bar. Ryan fake glares at Celeste.

“Just for that. You’re dancing with me.” Ryan walks around the bar to body-roll her way towards Celeste. The preteen groans and scrambles towards the other kids. “Wait up. It’s my song, didn’t you hear?”

Celeste rushes into the crowd, so Ryan turns her attention back towards Sophie. “Mission accomplished. She’s actually talking to people.”

Sure, the other kids might only be gossiping about the relationships of their instructors, but Celeste is talking to other kids instead of standing on the sidelines with the chaperones. When Sophie turns her eyes back to Ryan, Ryan has this gentle smile on her face. She blinks down some emotion in her eyes. Maybe it’s pride, or just empathy for the kids who don’t know where to be themselves.

“She’s doing better than me at her age,” Sophie admits. She leans her elbows into the bar, and the role reversal catches her off guard for a moment. Ryan glances over her shoulder at Sophie. How does she keep her curls like that? How does she look at Sophie like it’s the easiest thing in the world?

Ryan has to pitch up on her toes for a moment. She’s too close to Sophie over the bar counter as she snaps her fingers in a dramatic pout. “But here we are with no one to dance with.” She points to the ceiling as the bridge starts. “You ready? ‘Cause I can’t do this alone.” She sings, “‘She made us drinks, to drink. We drunk ‘em—’” She holds her clasped hand out to Sophie like a mic.

Sophie plays along and sings, “‘Got drunk.’”

Ryan pulls her mic back. “‘Man, I think she thinks I’m—’”

“‘Cooool.’”

“‘She gave me a wink—’” And Ryan keeps singing, twirling on her toes with the ridiculous lights of the dance behind her. Her teasing voice over the autotune has never felt more true than this moment. She drops her fake mic to dance her way around the corner of their makeshift bar. By the time the chorus hits, she’s right in front of Sophie. Smile bright and so full of joy that Sophie can’t think of anything else.

Their eyes catch, as Ryan sings, “‘I like the baaaartender. Oooh, if you’re looking for meee.’” Her fingers graze Sophie’s, and sparks tingle all the way up Sophie’s arm. “‘I’m at the baaar with her.’” Sophie’s fingers tighten around Ryan’s automatically.

“‘I like the baaaartender. Oooh, if you’re looking for meee…’” Ryan’s voice trails, as Sophie gulps. As Sophie’s eyes widen and her pulse thrums in her ears, and she drops Ryan’s hand and steps back.

“I-I’ll be back.” And Sophie takes off out of there.

🦇

Mary and Luke stare at the scratches and dents on the Batmobile. Luke will be able to get those out, but he doesn’t know if they can get rid of them before Ryan notices the damage. Mary’s phone springs to life. Mary stares in horror like Ryan just knows something is wrong, but thankfully, her shoulders sag in relief.

“It’s Sophie.” She answers the phone, clicking it onto speaker mode. “Hey Soph, I’m a little busy right now.”

“Yeah, so am I.” It sounds like she’s pacing. “We need to talk. About Ryan.”

Luke and Mary split a worried, nervous look. Mary mouths, Two weeks. Luke shakes his head. Mary nods hers.

Mary squeaks out. “One second please. I’m gonna put you on hold.” She honestly only mutes herself and turns to Luke. “If she wants to talk about Ryan, this is the perfect moment to tell her the truth!”

“While she’s at the dance?” he croaks

“She can’t make a scene in front of all of those kids.”

“That is an awful plan!”

Sophie’s voice comes through. “Mary? Hello??”

Mary un-mutes. “Sorry! I’m talking with Luke. I’m here at Wayne right now. Maybe you could come meet me here? You know, if this is serious?”

There’s a beat where Sophie must be debating how serious this is. If she says no, then clearly they’re not meant to tell Sophie today. If she says yes, then — “Fine. Be there in twenty.” Sophie clicks off the line.

Mary barely swallows down a groan. “Shit, shit, shit.”

🦇

At least eight minutes go by without a sign of Sophie. Ryan flips the little BREAK sign at minute ten and heads for the lobby. Was it the song? Sophie requested it, so it shouldn’t be a problem to joke around with it. Maybe Ryan tipped her hand. Maybe she looked too into it? Too hopeful and happy at the fact that they were out here like this.

It’s weird to think that a few weeks ago, they were in a club, and they weren’t even close to each other. Sophie had been furious with Ryan — with Batwoman — but tonight, they could have fun. Tonight, well, Ryan thought they could pretend.

But the lobby’s empty when Ryan checks.

“She left,” Imani says from behind her. Ryan wheels around a little too fast. A twinge aches in her ankle. Imani glances down at it with a soft, sad grin.

“Uh, thanks.” Ryan should probably say sorry too. Sorry for not owning up to these feelings sooner. Sorry for not talking to Imani these last two weeks, or doing much more than smiling apologetically when Imani saw how close Ryan and Sophie had gotten. It’s not like Ryan and Imani were exclusive, but it’s still not great. “Look—”

Imani shakes her head. She holds a hand out to stop Ryan, and Ryan stops. Lets Imani say her piece. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

Ryan hesitates. Most people use advice to attack. Angelique would’ve absolutely torn Ryan a new one if Ryan had gotten feelings for somebody else during a break. But Imani doesn’t seem the type to do that.

“Go for it.”

Imani twists her hands together. She’s got a fresh manicure. Her hair’s perfectly moisturized, and if the last few weeks hadn’t happened, Ryan would’ve definitely stolen her away to compliment her on all of it.

“You’re cute, Ry, really, really cute.” Imani tilts her head to the side. “That’s not gonna be enough. You don’t have to share everything, but if you want… whatever that is with Sophie to work out, then you’re going to have to let her actually know you. I doubt she’ll be as patient as I was.”

Ryan can’t help the snort that slips out. Sophie’s not a patient person. Still very much a charge first, ask questions later.

Imani chuckles too, though hers comes out much sadder. “I gotta ask. Does she know?”

Ryan freezes, her face a perfect mask over a spike of panic. “Know what?”

Imani shrugs. “About wherever you go, when you’re not around. Whatever it is that you’re into. Did you tell her?” And not tell Imani. Guess Ryan didn’t do as good of a job of playing this Batwoman thing off as she thought.

Ryan shakes her head. “I don’t tell anyone.” Would she be able to hide it, if she and Sophie actually got closer? Or would Sophie assume that Ryan was lying to her? Would she get defensive and frustrated like she was in the alley? She already has trust issues. Ryan can’t put her through that again.

“Sounds lonely.”

For a second, Ryan’s heart aches. Lonely like limping to the Batmobile after her fall. Lonely like standing on the roof after Sophie walked away. Lonely like her life before Batwoman.

It’s different now though. Different when she has her team around her. Luke and Mary protect Ryan. So what if they can’t be around all the time? Nobody can. She’s fine. She’s safe, and so is Batwoman. Her secret can’t get out if nobody knows it. And if nobody knows it, then nobody can take it away.

🦇

Mary begs Luke on the elevator ride up. “Please don’t make me tell her.”

Luke guffaws. “Absolutely not! This was your idea, Mary! You tell her.”

The elevator quietly lands. Luke opens the doors and slips out first. Mary closes it back behind her. Not a moment too soon since Sophie’s boots click along the hall and set off the silent alarm. She knocks, and Mary takes a second to pull a bright smile on her face before calling for Sophie to come in.

Now Sophie’s normally pretty composed. She’s been totally in control for as long as Mary has known her. Back when Sophie was her personal security, it’d honestly been a little annoying. Sophie never cracked. Right now, she strides in like she’s still reeling. Still processing. The thumb of her left hand rubs against the base of her left ring finger. An old tick from worrying with her wedding ring. It’s been a while since Mary’s seen her do it.

Mary speaks first. “We should start. A lot of this feels... familiar.” She clears her throat and motions for Sophie to come further into the office. Mary and Luke stand in front of the desk. It’s giving intervention, but hopefully they can make this seem less daunting in a moment. Like they’re just a couple of friends talking about another friend, who just so happens to be a superhero. Mary’s never had to be the one who tells someone. “I’m not against it, but it’s also weird to be on this side of it this time.”

Mary glances to Luke for support, and his cheeks are puffed like he’s about to throw up. He nods quickly.

His eyes bounce from Mary to Sophie, whose face slowly looks more and more serious. Luke says, “It’s good though. This could be good for all of us. We just… don’t really know how to have this conversation.”

Mary takes back over. “But we want to. We do, especially since we’ve seen how close you and Ryan have been getting, and then with the Batwoman thing at the dance—”

Sophie cuts her off with a sigh. “I know, guys. I know.”

Mary’s eyes widen. “You do?” How long has Sophie known? Mary and Luke split a look that’s part surprise, part relief, and maybe a bit confused. Did Ryan tell her?

Sophie nods. “After everything with Kate… I didn’t really expect to be in this position again.”

Yeah, like what are the odds Sophie would befriend another masked vigilante? “It happens!” Mary blurts. “Not to most people, but to us, it absolutely happens. And if it’s going to be anyone, it should be Ryan.”

Sophie forces air up out of her mouth. “Should it?”

Mary pauses. “Excuse me?”

Luke gives a defensive scoff. “Sophie, come on.” Ryan’s an amazing Batwoman. She cares about Gotham in a way that honestly Kate didn’t. Kate cared about stopping Alice and giving people hope, but she didn’t really see the way the city needed to rebuild. Sophie has to see that.

Sophie squeezes her ring finger again. “Ryan’s great, but Ryan’s also… Ryan. She’s stubborn and defensive—”

“Because she’s been attacked!” Luke points out. “Many times! Most of them by you!” How could Sophie go from supporting Batwoman one day to doubting her the next?

Sophie starts pacing. “You don’t think I know that? I wish I could have handled things differently before it got this far, but now we’re here, and sometimes, she looks at me and….” Sophie sighs, like actually school-girl-with-a-crush wistfully sighs.

Luke’s brows furrow. “Oh. Y-you’re talking about dating Ryan.” Not Batwoman’s identity. His eyes cut to Mary’s, and Mary tries to keep the surprise off of her face.

Sophie corrects, “We’re not—”

Mary rolls her eyes. “We know you’re not. She is definitely not getting any.” Then, as a quick correction, Mary adds, “Unless you’re into jealousy, because if that’s the case, she is so in demand.”

Now Sophie looks sick. Mary motions again to the chair opposite the desk, and Sophie sinks down into it. She drops her head into her hands with a groan.

Luke catches Mary’s eye again and silently flails. Mary shrugs back. She doesn’t have the answers here. Two weeks ago, Sophie was clearly only into Batwoman. But with all the texting and the late night phone calls, clearly something has changed.

Sophie picks her head back up. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone else to talk to. If I tell Jordan, then my annoying little sister was right to say something months ago, and—”

“Hey.” Mary drops down into a squat in front of Sophie’s chair. She softly pulls Sophie’s hands apart and tries not to look at the slightly irritated skin on Sophie’s finger. “No apology needed. We’re your friends too.”

Luke agrees from behind Mary. “You and Ryan work really well together. Yes, she’s stubborn and defensive, but she loves harder than half this city combined. And you deserve to be loved like that.”

Sophie’s laugh sounds stressed. “You’re moving way too fast there.”

He hums his disagreement. “Liked like that then. We want you to do what makes you happy, and if Ryan does that, then you should tell her.”

Sophie seems doubtful, so Mary squeezes Sophie’s hands as tight as she can. “Don’t overthink it. Tell Ryan how you feel.” Since Ryan clearly likes Sophie back, then Ryan will stop freaking out about her secret. Ryan can tell Sophie, and Luke and Mary will be off the hook! Mary stands and pulls Sophie up out of the chair. “Oh my gosh, you could do it tonight. Right now.”

Luke nods, clearly on the same wavelength. “Be as honest and direct as possible.” They don’t have room for talking around things. These two misinterpret everything. “Say, ‘Hey, I want to be with you.’”

Mary practically drags Sophie to the door, as Sophie’s face pinches in a panic. “Don’t worry. She definitely likes you back. You should’ve seen her getting ready for the dance. You’ve got this.”

“But—”

Mary stomps her foot down. “No buts! Go.” She pushes Sophie out the door and pulls it shut behind her. She stares at the closed door until she can hear Sophie’s boots retreating. Then she whirls around to face Luke with the biggest sigh of relief.

He clasps his hands in a silent prayer. His eyes go to the sky. “Thank you.”

Mary cheers. “Two weeks!”

“Two weeks!” They got away with meddling, with driving the Batmobile, with everything! Luke’s phone rings. He answers it on speaker.

Ryan’s voice comes through, clear as day. “Why is there an APB out for the Batmobile?”

They got away with almost everything.

🦇

Sophie doesn’t know why she does it. She doesn’t even flip the signal. She needs a moment to clear her head, and their roof feels like a better place than any. She shouldn’t tell Ryan. She went through the lies and the games with Kate. She got burned by Julia. Even as a friend, she’s been burned by Ryan. She shouldn’t do it.

Footsteps sound on the staircase. Sophie turns backwards towards the door that she normally comes through. Guess it’s time for someone with a real emergency to be here.

The door opens, but it’s Ryan, who steps through. Not Batwoman, or a stranger, but Ryan, still dressed in her volunteer shirt from the dance. She’s winded and huffs, “There are a lot more stairs than I expected.”

Ryan flashes her a small smile. The moon’s bright above them, and Sophie finds herself staring at Ryan’s face. Her whole face without the cowl, as the wind tousles her hair. Sophie can’t speak.

Ryan limps as she crosses from the stairwell entrance towards the center of the roof. Since Sophie’s standing at the signal, Ryan has a bit of a journey until they’re fully face to face.

“You, uh, took off back there. Now I know my singing isn’t that bad.” She laughs, her normal cockiness blending with some nerves. “So, I figured it must’ve been about, you know.” Her eyes go to the signal. Sophie can’t see what’s in her eyes from this distance. Can’t read her like this. But Sophie can see the way Ryan struggles to swallow. The way her eyes flit from the sky to Sophie to her own hands before she shrugs, like this is all she can offer.

It’s apologetic. Hopeful, but sorry. Ryan rolls her shoulders back. “She’s some date, huh? She didn’t even stick around for a dance. But….” Ryan walks again. Smiles again as she comes to stand right in front of Sophie. “If you’re accepting substitutes….”

Sophie’s eyes well. Traitors. She closes them to steady herself. A tsunami of emotions crashes over her. The joy at Ryan being here, the relief at Ryan choosing her, the disappointment at Ryan still not telling her, the frustration, the surge of affection. Sophie can’t trust her voice, so she only nods.

When she opens her eyes, Ryan’s already looking down at Ryan’s phone. “Luckily, we’ve been building a playlist all week.” She hits play. The gospel remix of ‘The Thong Song’ blasts. Sophie’s raspy laugh rips out of her. Ryan cheeses up at Sophie so bright. Oh, Sophie really is gone for this girl, isn’t she?

“Maybe not that one,” Sophie tells her while her thumb once again finds her ring finger. She used to do it when she thought of Tyler, and Kate, and making the right choice for her future. She doesn’t make the best choices.

Ryan makes a show out of rolling her eyes. “Zero taste.”

Sophie likes Ryan, which is all the proof of taste that she needs. The proximity of ‘Ryan’ and ‘taste’ in the sentence makes Sophie’s brain short-circuit. Makes her mouth dry and her tongue dart out to her lips.

Ryan clocks it too. She smirks, but thankfully doesn’t comment on it. Presses play on the next song, and a slow ballad starts. She slips her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. Her hand shakes as she holds it out for Sophie.

Sophie’s is steady as she takes it. Her left hand finds the small of Ryan’s back. Ryan’s right hand comes up to Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie hasn’t led before. She’s never had to. She’s never danced with someone so much shorter than her either. Ryan’s breath warms the base of Sophie’s neck. With the chill of the night, it’s no wonder Sophie shudders. No wonder Sophie steps that much closer to hold Ryan to her.

It should feel awkward, shouldn’t it? Or tense, as they find a simple rhythm on their makeshift dance floor. But the hum of the city below them is the same as it always is. The heat of Ryan’s body — even with a respectable distance between them — that’s new. It’s familiar though. Sophie’s body aches to sink into it. To drift closer until there’s only them, chest to chest like they’d been the last time they were up here. But she can’t scare Ryan away. Can’t scare herself either. So, she leaves the space and follows Ryan’s lead.

After a bit, Ryan admits, “I didn’t actually make it to my prom.” They turn. Basic ballroom instincts take over. “Me and Ange…. We got banned, which… kind of hurt at the time.” Something glints in her eyes for a moment. A pain for another time. She tries to blink it down. Then pulls a little smirk onto her face. “It did give us a great reason to stay home.”

Sophie glances away as Ryan wiggles her eyebrows. At least Ryan’s bad prom was memorable.

“I, uh, don’t even remember my prom night. I know I got ready at home, then met up with my date?” He’d been so into her. Poor guy. Sophie chuckles. “I ditched him the moment we got there and snuck off to the photo booth with a few friends.”

Ryan smiles. “Look at you now, still sneaking off.”

“And you….” Sophie shivers again. Ryan snuck off with her. To be with her.

Ryan finishes the thought. “I’m still making the most of what I’ve got. One of my favorite teachers told me and Angelique to just pretend we weren’t together anymore. She said I wouldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t learn to play the game.” She takes a deep breath. “I know you don’t agree, but I think I’m doing pretty well these days. With my job, and my team, with... ” Her eyes drift out to the Gotham skyline. “All of this. Feels like a win.”

The patronizing voice of Diane Moore kicks into Sophie’s brain. Ryan’s an ex-con bartender with a part time teaching job at an underfunded community center. She barely makes above minimum wage. She’s a statistic at best. She’s hardly the type of example that they’re meant to be setting.

Except: Ryan built this life without any real infrastructure. She has a whole community willing to defend her, including her employees, which is more than Sophie can say for most of the Crows. Half of the guys that Sophie works with would gladly sell her out if it meant Tavaroff would upgrade their next assignments. Ryan is more than the facts in her file, or the poster child for the criminal lesbian Diane feared Sophie could be. Ryan is Batwoman. Even more, Ryan is happy.

At the risk of starting a fight, Sophie asks. “And what you’re doing now — does it feel like enough?”

Ryan meets her eyes. All the lights in the city must shine off of them. “For me? Yeah, it is.” She licks her lips before asking, “Can you say the same thing?”

No, she can’t. She used to. Before Ryan and Batwoman and Alice — back when the Crows were mostly private security that kept the peace in a city that had no idea what peace was meant to look like. Then the rough crime wasn’t as rough, and the wealth inequality meant that more robberies and break ins were happening. The rich clients could keep the Crows in business. They could afford stability and protection. Anyone who couldn’t was left to the whims of the GCPD. Or worse.

A task force could help. Sophie should help. She just needs to figure out how.

Sophie shrugs at Ryan. “Can I get back to you on that?”

Ryan’s eyes are so completely understanding that Sophie has to look away.

Sophie’s not sure who brings them closer from here — if she tugs and Ryan follows, or if Ryan scoots closer and Sophie lets her in — but then Ryan is against her. Ryan tucks her head against Sophie’s chest. Sophie wills her heart to both slow down and to keep up, keep going, keep her here for as long as possible.

🦇

As the song ends, Ryan wills herself to pull away. Walk away before she does something they can’t come back from. Leave before everything changes.

She doesn’t lift her head as she says, “We should go. It’s kind of cold up here.” She always has the suit to help. She doesn’t know how Sophie does it.

“Mm, after the next one?”

Sophie wants to keep going? Ryan doesn’t know if it’s the loneliness, or the fact that she’s here. It isn’t fair of Ryan to do this. She knows that Sophie likes someone else, but she’s already committed tonight to pretending. To taking what’s hers and letting herself dream.

She could’ve just as easily come up here as Batwoman. Could’ve bantered and danced with Sophie as the person Sophie actually wants to be with. It’s like the first night at The Hold Up, when Ryan poured margaritas and hoped that Sophie might let it go. Only now, she wonders if Sophie will ever forgive her. When Sophie finds out, will she hate her? Will they ever be this close again?

Ryan’s arms tighten around Sophie. “It’s a long playlist. We’ve got a minute.”

🦇

The walk down the steps is quiet and slow going as Ryan tries not to put too much more on her ankle. She’ll have to ice it, but it’s worth it for the feel of Sophie’s hand in hers as she offers her support. If they both hold tight, it’s just to make sure Ryan doesn’t fall. And if they hold on as they step out into the night, well, it is cold, right? And interlocked fingers make more warmth. And stolen glances are just to make sure the other is still okay. Still here beside them.

Ryan’s van is right at the base of the building. She should’ve parked further away. They could’ve had longer to walk. But it’s here, and they’re here, and neither of them lets go.

Ryan reaches for her keys in her pocket. “Anyway….” She turns to face Sophie and slowly loosens her fingers. Sophie follows suit. Ryan has to look down so she doesn’t do something reckless. The charge in the air is even worse down here. “Sorry your crush didn’t save you a dance.”

Sophie bumps their hands together again. “I mean, the night turned out alright.”

Ryan shrinks before she catches herself. She scoffs. “Just alright?” She glances back up to Sophie, whose eyes are so overwhelmingly soft. Ryan can’t even be sad. She can work with alright. “I am a full service replacement date, okay? You say the word, and I’m—”

Sophie’s fingers slide under Ryan’s chin. Ryan’s eyes snap to Sophie’s. Softly, impossibly slowly, Sophie lifts Ryan’s chip up and brings their lips together. It’s a brush at first. Feather light, and Ryan’s lips part immediately. Sophie comes back, her kiss more certain this time. Ryan could lose herself in this kiss, in this woman.

Shit. She goes to deepen the kiss, but Sophie clearly has more restraint than Ryan will ever possess. She pulls back. Not out of reach, just enough so her breath ghosts Ryan’s lips. So her forehead can rest against Ryan’s.

“There. Never leave a dance without a kiss, right?”

Ryan smiles. “I should go to more dances.”

Sophie laughs, and Ryan can taste it. Can feel an unspeakable warmth in her chest. Oh damn, she is gone, isn’t she?

🦇

author's note: end of chapter seven. please talk to me. writing this made me cry, and I am... so nervous about how y'all will respond. what'd you think?

read chapter eight here!

#wildmoore #ryan x sophie #sophie moore #ryan wilder #batwoman fic #fic: i know you even if you don't want me to #batwoman #mine

[digitalstowaway]

No Winners: Chapter Three (Mia & Miles AU)

Read on AO3 | After failing to win a guilty verdict at his first trial, Edgeworth is denounced as von Karma's protege. Mia finds him, alone and traumatized, and decides that befriending him is like picking up a lost, wounded puppy on the side of the road. But it turns out they're connected in more ways than Terry Fawles' death. 

--

It was Friday afternoon by the time Lana knocked on Miles’ front door, holding a thermos of soup and smiling. 

Miles stood in his doorway, squinting at her. He wore his pajamas still—a comfortable set of flannel bottoms and a large t-shirt that hung off of his scrawny frame—and his hair was ruffled and messy. Lana could see how it stuck up in the back while the fringe had become frizzy and laid flat against his face. 

“I thought I’d check up on you,” Lana said. “And bring you soup.” 

“That was… thoughtful.” His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he strained to get the few words out.

He would have looked adorable if there wasn’t a worrying flush to his face and glassiness over his eyes. But he did look younger than Lana had ever seen him. And smaller. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he was a teenager taking a day off school. 

She just had to take care of him. She couldn’t leave a sick child home alone. 

“Mind if I come in?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Lana pushed past him and was walking into the house. His home was cute but definitely belonged to a 20-year-old boy. There was hardly any decor, and all of the curtains were drawn shut—though, the latter could have been due to the poor thing looking like he had just crawled out of bed—leaving the rooms to be dark and stuffy. The kitchen was bare, most notably. The only items on the countertops were an electric kettle and decorative containers that Lana suspected held nothing in them.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles asked, standing behind her as she unscrewed the top of the thermos. 

“If you don’t eat the soup now, it’ll get cold.” 

If I don’t watch you eat right now, I don’t think you’ll eat at all. 

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.” 

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re capable of it or not, it’s just nice to have someone with you.” 

She began rifling through his cabinets. She was happy to see full sets of plates and bowls and cups. She wasn’t very happy to see, though, the lack of food on his shelves. 

She motioned for him to sit at his island. He did, looking like he was obeying the command of a superior. 

“I can make you tea as well,” Lana said, pouring out the soup in front of him. 

“Are you always in the habit of inviting yourself into people’s homes and invading their kitchens?” 

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. But usually, people are more accepting of it than you because I’m also known to be a good cook.” 

Miles looked down at his soup. He stirred it, mixing up the vegetables and noodles in a whirlpool, and then set his spoon down.

He was tucked into himself, arms discreetly wrapped around his middle. Lana recognized the position as someone who couldn’t stomach the thought of food. 

And all of her forged maternal instincts that came from taking care of Ema rushed forward. Really, a 12-year-old girl and Miles Edgeworth couldn’t be too different to look after.  

Lana pressed her hand to his forehead. He allowed it, closing his eyes. 

“You’re really warm,” she sighed. “Do you have a thermometer?” 

Miles shook his head. Lana tutted. 

“Do you have cold medicine? Or any medicine?” 

“I have aspirin.” 

He was barely old enough to take aspirin. Lana prided herself on her knowledge of over-the-counter meds, and she clearly remembered the warning label on the back of the aspirin bottles to not give any to a person under 20. And god, the kid was just old enough to take such a simple drug? He was just entering the final stages of his coming of age?  

Lana had had a thought or two upon first meeting Miles that he was truly too young to be in a prosecutor’s office. Not for the uptight, snooty reasons her colleagues had. But because she couldn’t bear to think of the toll it would take on someone so young—so bent on perfection. 

“Do you have anything else?” she asked.

Miles shook his head. His eyebrows raised as if he was in trouble and scared of being scolded. It was always the subtle things that made Lana worry.  

“Well, lucky for you, I carry everything in my purse.” 

As she dug through her purse for her trusty bottle of acetaminophen, he coughed harshly into his elbow. It sounded worse than the night before. Like his lungs were trying to come up his throat. He winced and grimaced and struggled to breathe through it. Lana forgot about the pills and pulled out her phone. 

“I’m going to have Mia pick up a few things for you,” she said. 

“No—”

“Miles, you’re not going to get better like this. I’ll have her drop off something for your cough and a thermometer at some point today, okay?” 

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure you finish your soup.” 

—

By the time Mia arrived with a little bag from the pharmacy, Lana was waiting in the doorway with her phone in hand. She tried to smile when Mia met her, but she looked tired and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Mia asked. 

She tried not to care. People got the flu. People lived through the flu. Miles was going to be fine in a week. 

“He’s in rough shape,” Lana said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” 

Mia passed her the bag with the highly specific requested items inside. Two types of cough syrup—antitussives and expectorants. Whatever those were. Lana had said a balance of both was necessary. A bottle of acetaminophen and another of ibuprofen. There was something about alternating between the two that wasn’t explained well over text. And cough drops (of which Mia had bought three kinds), acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a thermometer. Any thermometer, Lana told Mia. 

The shopping list had been followed by a notification that Lana had sent Mia more than enough money to cover it all. There was a note in the money-sharing app that said and buy yourself something nice ;) xo Lana 

It had been a nice break from her anxiety-ridden text messages. Mia had bought herself a pack of gum and two lollipops.

“That’s for you,” Mia said when Lana pulled out the second lollipop. 

“How sweet,” Lana said. 

“Can I see him? I want to look at the scary prodigy all sick.” 

“Yeah, but be quiet. He just fell asleep.” Lana led her in. “Why do you want to see him like this?” 

“Blackmail. In case he ever tries pulling something, I’ll have a picture of him all snotty and gross.” 

“Mia, don’t take a picture of him.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s mean. And isn’t your whole thing being anti-blackmail?” 

This was different. There would be no one to truly show the picture to. And Miles would catch on to that. The threat would be superficial and empty. 

The living room was dark and quiet, and Mia nearly missed Miles on the couch. He was curled up under a blanket, blending into the upholstery. But looking closer, Mia could see how pale his face was and the light layer of sweat covering his forehead.

Lana unpacked the pharmacy bag on the coffee table, careful to not make a sound to disturb Miles. But he woke himself up anyway, his uneasy breathing turning into a coughing fit. A hand emerged from the blanket, and a crumpled tissue in his fist was pressed to his mouth. His cough sounded awful. Mia nearly gagged in sympathy when she heard something deep in his lungs get stirred up. 

“Miles, Mia brought you some stuff,” Lana said. “Can you take your temperature real quick?” 

She assembled the thermometer. Mia had picked one up with multiple tips in hopes that the fancier it looked, the better it would work. 

Lana handed the thermometer over, and Miles laid it under his tongue. Mia was surprised by the lack of fuss he made, and he did close his eyes immediately and seemed close to sleep by the time the thermometer beeped. 

Lana slid it out of his mouth for him as a mother would. 

“103.5,” she read. 

Mia grimaced. That wasn’t good at all. 

Miles’ eyes opened, but they didn’t react to what Lana had said. Instead, they fell on Mia with a glare nastier than what he usually served. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I delivered you half of a pharmacy,” Mia said, gesturing to the table. “Be grateful.” 

Lana interrupted them. “Miles, if your fever gets much higher, I think I’m going to take you to a hospital.” 

And the glare towards Mia immediately changed to a scared look to Lana. He shook his head. 

“I’m fine,” he said. 

“But if you get any worse, I think you’ll need help and there’s no clinics open at this hour. It doesn’t sound like you’re breathing very well, either.”

It didn’t. Every other intake of breath was raspy.  

Miles shook his head again. Lana sat next to him on the couch and brushed his hair back from his face. It was absolutely out of character to allow himself to be coddled in such a way. 

How childish he looked, Mia thought. He certainly always carried the air of a brat, but he had never looked so small. So helpless. So in need of a person like Lana Skye. 

“Only if you get worse, okay?” Lana said. “And Mia brought you a lot of medicine, so hopefully you start feeling better by tonight.” 

But Miles still looked scared, and Mia wondered what his damage was with hospitals. Not that anyone particularly liked having to go into hospitals. They were genuinely acknowledged as places no one ever wanted to be. 

“Let’s try to get this cough under control first,” Lana said and reached for one of the bottles of cough syrup. 

Hours passed, and Mia stayed. She felt bad about leaving Lana alone with the possibility of Miles needing to be taken to a hospital hanging in the air. 

It was also nice to see Lana mother Miles, waking him so often to take a different pill or to press the thermometer into his mouth one more time. When she wasn’t doting on the prosecutor, they snuck into the kitchen to talk like children. 

“He really needs a doctor,” Lana said. “But it’ll be best if I can get him to a clinic tomorrow instead of putting him through the emergency room tonight.”

 “You’d go with him?”

“Do you think he could drive himself?” 

Mia rocked against the countertop. “No.” 

“Then, I’d have to go with him. Or someone would have to go with him, and I don’t really see anyone else lining up to escort him.” 

Lana picked up her phone and, looking over her shoulder, Mia could see her texting Ema and then Damon Gant. One a reassuring conversation and the other a semi-desperate beg to ask anyone at all if they could do her a favor. 

“You know,” Mia said, “if someone needs to watch Ema tonight, I can do it.” 

Lana looked up, perhaps embarrassed that she had been caught in such weakness. “Would you?” 

“Unless you need someone to wrangle Miles to the hospital.” 

Lana smiled. “We’ll see which child needs the most supervision. But if I did ask you to watch Ema tonight, you wouldn’t mind?” 

“Of course not. I have nothing better to do.” 

“And if I asked you to help me get Miles to a hospital?” 

Mia tilted her head back. She had little reason to say no. “Sure.” 

— 

As the sun was finally setting, coughing turned to choking. 

Miles struggled to pull himself up. He rested on his elbows, his head bowed, coughing too hard to take in any fulfilling breaths. 

Lana tugged him up so that he was sitting against her. His shoulders heaved and with his coughs, small strings of bile spilled from his mouth. 

“Can you get towels please?” Lana asked Mia. 

Mia ran down the halls until she found a closet and stacks of towels. It was an unnecessarily large house for one kid. Mia had a one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room to accommodate Maya when she visited. And there was Miles living in a house with, if Mia counted right as she passed them, two bathrooms and a bedroom on the first floor alone. 

But she couldn’t be mad at him if his sleazy mentor gave him the money to buy the house. If anything, it was good for Miles to keep whatever that man had already given him. 

Mia grabbed all the hand towels and wash clothes she could, wetting a few down, and ran back to the sitting room where Lana was trying to keep Miles up. 

“It’s okay,” she was repeating, and Mia could hear Miles mumbling apologies as she handed over the towels. 

Lana got to work cleaning up his face and then his clothes. Miles’ thin hands were limp on his lap, only being moved by Lana to scrub at the bile that hand landed on his sweatpants. 

“Do you want to change?” Lana asked. 

Miles shook his head. He was usually so pristine, Mia was surprised he didn’t want a fresh pair of clothes. 

“Okay. We can lay back down for now.” Lana helped him shuffle around until he was lying back down. 

She covered him with his blanket again and left one of the damp cloths over his forehead. Mia stood awkwardly off to the side. 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Lana said. 

“If you want me to watch Ema now, I can,” she said.

“I don’t know. I think I should really get Miles to a hospital, but I think it’ll take at least the two of us to get him anywhere.” 

“Is there anyone else who can watch Ema?” 

Lana didn’t say anything. Mia didn’t know many people who could really be left alone with a child. Not any that could be called at the last minute. 

“What about Diego?” she asked. 

“Ema’s never met Diego before. I’ve barely met Diego.” 

“Yeah, but he’d probably be willing to stay with her for the night. He mentioned to me once that he likes kids.” 

“Miles is a kid, and he doesn’t seem to like him.” 

“Miles is 20.” 

“I’m 20,” Miles agreed sleepily. 

“And Ema isn’t Miles,” Mia said. “She’s… less difficult.” 

“Okay,” Lana said. “If he doesn’t mind, tell him I can give him our house key if he meets us here and helps us get Miles into my car.” 

Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and begin texting Diego, her newest message harshly juxtaposing her previous, half-flirty ones. Miles whined next to her, telling Lana that he would be okay. That he didn’t need to go anywhere. And Lana gently cooed to him that it would be alright. He needed more help than she could give him, and she and Mia would stay with him. 

Mia didn’t remember when she volunteered to stay with Miles in the hospital. She thought that she would be there long enough to get him inside and moved on from the waiting room before going back to her own apartment. She watched Miles cough into his pillow and Lana brush his damp hair back from his forehead and knew that she was well past the point of any further negotiations.

#mia & miles au #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #mia fey #lana skye #my fics #no winners #finally chapter three!!!

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 44: “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

A/N: Small warning, there are mentions of a panic attack happening but nothing in great detail.

Enjoy! :D 

One Saturday afternoon Tim was minding his own business as he walks through the fields of Kent farm with Krypto happily barking at his feet. The dog would excitedly bound ahead for a few seconds before coming back, barking and shooting off again. Tim would try and please the dog by launching a stick as far as he could, but he knows that his throwing skills don’t really satisfy the super canine.

Just as he launched the stick yet again, with Krypto chasing after it, his phone begins to ring inside his pocket. Tim digs it out of his jeans and looks at the screen to find Kon’s name there. Tim raises an eyebrow in question, he had only seen Kon not thirty minutes ago, what could Kon be calling him about?

Tim answers and even before he could say his greetings Kon is speaking over him in an erratic, panic voice.

“Tim! Oh my god, I need – Ma just called about Pa - Tim I don’t know what to do! What do I need, god I hope he’s okay, Tim this is awful. What if it’s like really bad, well of course it’s bad but how bad? Tim, I don’t know what to do…”

It takes Tim a few seconds to comprehend the rapid rambling happening through the phone’s speaker. Kon is freaking out about something but with how quick he’s talking and seeming to change topic Tim can’t make sense of it quite yet.

“Kon, Kon, Conner! Breathe and tell me what’s happened.” Tim demands gently but firmly. He moves the phone away from his face and whistles for Krypto before starting to jog back to the farmhouse.

“Okay, okay, so, um I got a call from Ma just now,” Kon starts explaining, his voice shaking as he does.

Tim hums in acknowledgement, not reacting until he's heard the whole story.

“So Ma and Pa were out in town, as you know, and apparently Pa took a bad fall while out and now they’re taking him to the hospital. The hospital Tim! How bad could the damage be if they have to take him away in an ambulance?”

Tim hums again and hurries his pace to get to the house quicker, he could hear how Kon’s voice is rising with panic as he tells Tim what happened. Tim needs to get there to try and calm Kon down before he ends up having a panic attack.

“I’m trying to go through the house to find out what they may need if he’s at the hospital. Like how long will he be staying there? What is the damage if there is any? Of course there would be some he’s going to the hospital why else he go there. Christ Tim I can’t think straight right now.”

The farmhouse is in distance now, Tim hums again saying, “It’s okay Kon I’m almost back now.” It’s a miracle that Kon hasn’t just shot off, heading for the hospital as soon as he got the news. The last thing anyone needs is Superboy turning up at the hospital asking for Mr Kent.

Kon starts rambling into the phone again and without meaning too Tim blanks out his words, his focus purely on getting back to the house. A couple minutes later he’s there and instantly rushes indoors in search for Kon.

He could hear his boyfriend still talking inside the house, following his voice he finds Kon in the living room speaking into the phone. Tim pockets his phone and goes to Kon, grabbing his hands to get his attention. Kon jumps at the touch and wide blue eyes meet his. The half Kryptonian is breathing rapidly and Tim could see him physically shaking.

Tim reaches up and cups his cheek with a hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Just breathe with me for a moment alright.” With his other hand he places one of Kon’s on his chest and starts breathing deeply for Kon to mimic. “Breathe in with me and breathe out. Copy my breathing.”

They breathe together for several moments until Kon’s calmed down enough to be breathing normally again. Tim cups his face again and strokes the skin there with his thumbs. “Right, tell me again what’s happened.”

Kon swallows and nods. He takes another breath and leans forward, resting his forehead against Tim’s in a silent action of seeking comfort. Tim allows him to, happy to give Kon whatever he needs.

“Right, so Ma and Pa were out in town and apparently Pa took a bad fall. There’s probably some sort of hip or knee damage. One of the medics called me from Ma’s phone from within the ambulance. They’re on their way to the nearest hospital. They didn’t say how he got hurt just that he is.”

This time Tim nods, now finally understanding the situation. He tries to not get too overwhelmed by worry for Pa Kent. If he’s already with medics and on the way to the hospital then at least he’s getting the help he needs swiftly which also means they’ll be able to catch the worst of it quickly. Of course Kon won’t be able to see it like that just yet which is completely understandable, Tim needs to make sure that his boyfriend doesn’t do anything rash in the meantime.

“Okay, so while nothing is definite yet, let’s be prepared just in case. We can pack a bag with some day and night clothes, Pa’s meds and maybe some toiletries. If we need to get more stuff we can always come back. Kon I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”

Conner doesn’t say anything but he does give Tim a squeeze from where his hands rest on against his waist. They wordlessly pull apart and head for the Pa’s bedroom. Together they make quick work of packing things they think Pa may need if he’s to stay overnight at the hospital.

Once that’s done, Kon shoulders the bag and makes his way to the door but before he could take off Tim grabs his bicep. “Kon, you can’t go flying there.”

Kon sends him a sharp look. “Tim we’re wasting time here. Flying is the quickest way.”

Tim doesn’t take any offense to the sharp look or tone of voice, he knows Kon is stressed at the situation and not at him. He also isn’t hurt by the action of Kon pushing him away so he could walk out onto the front porch of the farmhouse. For a second time Tim grabs his arm before he could take to the air.

“Kon think about it, Superboy can’t just go showing up at the hospital. Not when they’ll be expecting Conner Kent. I’ll drive you to the hospital. Come on.” Before Kon could protest Tim takes his hand and leads him to the truck parked in front of the farmhouse. They climb in and Tim wastes no time in starting up the engine and driving to the hospital.

The ride there is tense and silent, not that Tim expected it to be anything else. He kept quiet as he drove to let Kon have his space to think things through and to try to mentally prepare for what’s going to happen in the near future. Once they get there they rush inside and get directions to where Pa’s room is.

They find both Ma and Pa inside the room. Pa is on the bed with Ma sat by his bedside. At the sight of them Kon surges forward, rapidly asking questions and trying to get answers for what had happened. Tim hovers by the doorway, allowing his boyfriend to have time with his grandparents.

Ma soon spots him and makes her way towards him, letting Kon interrogate Pa about what happened, and smiles softly in greeting.

“Tim, dear, thank you for coming.”

“Of course I came. How could I not?” Tim says reassuringly. “Is everything okay, what’s going on? Kon wasn’t exactly eloquent after the phone call.”

“Pa was just being a silly old man and wasn’t watching where he was going. He fell off some decking and seems to have damaged that old hip of his again. They’ve taken him for an x-ray already and now we’re waiting on results. He’ll be okay.”

Tim nods, feeling relieved that it’s good news. The two of them watch as Kon and Pa Kent bicker back and forwards about something. They share a fond eye roll and smile at the antics of the Kent men. Kon may not be blood related to the Kent’s but he is one of them by every other definition possible.

#timkon #100 ways to say i love you #Tim Drake #Kon-El #Ma Kent #pa kent #mentions of a panic attack #but not in too much detail #hurt and comfort #tim being a good boyfriend #comfort #hospitals #family #kent family #fanfiction

[ptergwen]

last christmas

w/c: 2.0k

warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness

summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit

a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy

━━━ *:･。.

“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.

that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.

it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.

the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.

your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”

the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.

you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.

harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.

“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.

━ ❆

it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.

“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.

“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.

there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”

harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.

at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.

he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.

“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”

he smiles about it the whole way home.

━ ❆

the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.

what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.

“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.

“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.

“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.

“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.

“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.

harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.

“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”

“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.

it can’t be...

“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”

your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.

“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.

“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”

━ ❆

the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.

tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”

“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”

“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.

“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.

“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.

“surprise me.”

-

i made a new taglist form, so fill it out if you want!! the link is in my bio

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland smut

[scribbles97]

Care prompts:

Person A catching Person B after they’ve fainted.

B is Virgil.

A - John , Gordon or Alan. (Scott too common).

Not my best work, muse is being somewhat uncooperative I’m afraid. However, I did get two of the three options for Person A in there (kind of) so that’s something! 

He’d been eyeing his brother all afternoon, they’d each hardly gotten a mouthful of breakfast before they had been called out that morning. Gordon had had chance to scoff a couple of Celery Crunch bars on the flight over, but six hours later, he was sure he hadn’t seen his tank of a brother take a single bite of anything. 

In typical big brother fashion, Virgil was powering through, insisting he was fine as they jumped from rescue to rescue. 

Gordon could see the difference though, the shift in pallor on his face, the drooping of his eyes, and the sluggishness of each move. 

He could only hope that they’d actually manage to get back to the Island that time. Part of him wanted to snitch on John, but John would tell Scott and then they’d both be in trouble. 

Maybe he could just persuade Virgil to stop off and get takeout on their way home. 

Grinning to himself he skipped onto the moudle’s ramp, medpack slung across his shoulder. It was worth asking at least, and if there was anyone whose arm he could twist, it was Virgil’s. 

Big brother was climbing out of the pod, still clearly not operating at one hundred percent as he paused between each step down. Virgil knew the pods like the back of his hand, could take them apart and put them back together in his sleep. Climbing down from them should have been second nature. 

There should have been any reason for him to lose his grip, for his foot to fumble and slip. 

Gordon moved without thinking, launching forward before his brother could hit the deck. He didn’t have chance to set a proper stance, or to catch a good hold. It was all he could do to stop Virgil’s head from colliding with the corner of the second pod on his way down. 

As he took the weight, he grunted to himself. Virgil was a tank, spent the time in the gym and had the muscles to prove it. Gordon was fit, but lean, a little fish in comparison to his brothers whale like stature. 

“Jesus Virg.” He uttered, shifting his hold and getting him by the shoulders to lower him to the module floor, “Had to go and faint on me huh? Scott’s really going to have my hide now.” 

“Gordon!” 

Great, just what he needed. 

“John,” He sighed, automatically checking vitals, “Virgil fainted.” 

“Do you have an indication of cause?” 

His worry only eased slightly when he found vitals were all normal. 

“Probably low blood sugar, I don’t think he’s eaten today.”

John’s cuss was frustrated, as his focus shifted elsewhere. Gordon took the opportunity to shift the medpack off of his back, and started routing for the glucose tablets. 

“Scott is en route.” 

“Aww come on.” He protested, “We’re all good, even if I almost did get squished.” 

“Sc’tt?” 

“Hey,” Gordon stopped his brother’s movement before he tried to sit up, “You stay there V, this is your fault. You of all people should know not to skip breakfast.” 

A grunt was all the response he got as Virgil lifted a hand to his face. 

“Di’n’ have time.” 

“That ain’t an excuse bro, and now you’ve gotta deal with Scott.” 

He grinned a little at the groan of protest before Virgil shoved his hand from his chest. Reaching out, he steadied his brother’s shoulder as he shifted to sit up. 

“Here.”

It was a small mercy that, out of all his brothers, Virgil was the most likely to comply with basic medical treatment. He took the glucose tablets and bottle of water without question, sipping it carefully as he leant against the wheel of the pod. 

“Sorry for trying to squash you.” 

“Save the apology,” He warned quietly, “You’re going to have Scott to deal with any moment now.” 

Even John’s hologram was frowning as he floated above Gordon’s wrist. 

“You should have eaten en route Virgil.” 

Broad shoulders shrugged as he blinked sleepily, “Was distracted.”

Gordon could understand, their first rescue of the day had been a snow rescue. Thoughts had been elsewhere for both of them on the flight out. He knew how rescues in certain locations affected his immediate older brother, how scars of the past still haunted him every time they flew in to somewhere dusted in white. 

“I should have made sure you ate.” He sighed, reaching out to pat Virgil’s shoulder, “My bad bro.” 

It was his nature to protest, a big brother’s duty to insist that he should have looked after himself better. 

“No,” John cut Virgil off before he could start, “Gordon’s right, we should have made sure. From now on I’m adding it to the protocol.” 

Gordon nodded in silent agreement, quietly turning to shove things back into the med pack. 

“I’ll see if I can call Scott off.” John murmured softly, “We’ll say it was a fluke.” 

Virgil still looked tired as he glanced between the pair of them, lips pursed and suitably bashful for the trouble he had inadvertently caused. 

“Sorry guys.” 

Standing himself, Gordon held an arm out to him, “Let me fly home and that’ll be the end of it. Deal?”

The twist of his face told Gordon that he didn’t like it, but equally he knew there wasn’t a leg for him to stand on. It was a reluctant nod that granted Gordon the permission he was after, taking any and all piloting decisions out of Virgil’s hands. 

A cool hand grasped his as Virgil pushed himself up, still wobbly and so obviously not a hundred percent. 

Maybe Gordon wouldn’t ask about stopping off for take out. 

Maybe he’d just take them there anyway.

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds 2015 #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #scribbles writes #thunderbirds fanfic

[lost-in-the-80s]

Winter Memories pt. 2

Pairing: Axl Rose x reader

Words: 3,156k

Summary: The pressure of making a new album is finally hitting Axl. To get rid of some stress he decides to take a trip to Norway, however, he did not expect to meet a mysterious woman there.  (smut + fluff)

A/N: I am back with part two!! Let me know if you liked it! Sorry it took me so long! There will be some lines in norwegian again, the translations will be below in italics.

Warnings: Mature content, swearing and unprotected sex. (Use a condom, guys!) ​​

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car​​ @ladieswttda​ @teasid​ @metalheartofgold​ @slashscowboyboots​ @ginny-rose-sixx​  @rumoured-whispers​ @normatural​ add yourself to my tag list :)

Tagging who showed interest for a second part: @sugwinter​​ @vinylvintage​​ @fosterchild-3203​ @littlemisscare-all​​ @ultrabithc​

Part 1

A year passed after that weekend. December arrived and Y/N got ready to spend another weekend at Anna's cottage.

As she packed her bags, she couldn't stop thinking about Axl, the mysterious redhead she had met the year before. He never left her mind, not even for a day.

But finding him would be impossible, so she ignored her heart's pleas that begged her to go to the United States to look for him. Her best chance was to hope he was in the cottage.

During the flight to the mountains, anxiety washed over her body. It was the longest two hours of her life. Her stomach was full of butterflies, as the memories of that night filled her mind.

Taking a taxi she asked the driver three times to go faster, ignoring the fact that the track was slippery with snow.

As soon as she reached the cottage she strode toward the front door, hoping to see him already waiting for her. But he wasn’t there.

After asking Anna she was sure, he wouldn’t come. His name wasn’t on the schedule list, nor had been since that weekend in December.

Han må ha gått videre med livet sitt, og du fortsetter å tenke på ham. She thought to herself.

He must have gone on with his life and you silly keep thinking about him.

Y/N tried to stick to her routine schedule, but spending twenty minutes on a bus to go skiing seemed too tiring. So she spent the entire Friday in her room, reading and whining about her life.

The next morning she woke up late and walked slowly down the steps. She had decided to have breakfast and go back to the airport, catch a flight to Oslo and try to forget all of that. Staying at the cottage brought too many memories to her mind.

“God morgen, Anna” She said calmly.

"Good morning, Anna."

“God morgen Y/N" The lady replied smiling.

"Good morning, Y/N."

Looking at all the breakfast options, she just couldn't feel hungry, so she took a big mug of coffee and sat at a table, sighing when she realized she had sat at the same table he was at the previous year.

After a few minutes, Anna came over, pulling the chair across from her to sit down.

"Hva skjer, Y/N?" The lady asked, touching the younger woman’s hand on top of the table.

"What's going on Y/N?"

“Det er ingenting, Anna, du trenger ikke å bekymre deg.” She gave a weak smile.

"It's nothing, Anna, you don't have to worry."

"Det er ikke gutten?"

"It's that boy, isn't it?"

Y/N looked out the window, avoiding the lady's gaze.

"Han så veldig trist ut dagen han reiste."

"He looked really sad the day he left."

She looked at the lady, seeing compassion in her eyes.

“Ikke bekymre deg, Anna. Jeg klarer meg. ” She smiled, trying to look convincing.

"Don't worry, Anna, I'll be fine."

----

During the next two years, she improved. She focused on work and was able to be distracted from her own thoughts.

She had a few boyfriends during that time, but she couldn't help comparing them to the redhead, and given his color and brilliance, all the others became gray and opaque.

During the nights, his face appeared in her dreams, they were always together and happy and she hated waking up every day and knowing that it would never go beyond that, a dream.

Sometimes she could even go a week without thinking about him, but then something simple reminded her again. Like when she wore the sweater she was wearing that night.

She felt stupid, it was ridiculous to feel that way after so long, especially for someone she only met for a weekend. But every time a rock song played on the radio, she remembered him.

He had said he worked with rock and she always wondered what he meant by that. Was he a band manager? Or was he a member of one of the bands that had already crossed her ears? She would never know and maybe it was for the best.

"Y/N!"

The sound of her name made her look up from the papers she was signing.

It was Hanna. She had moved from the United States to Norway the previous year, working in the office's accounting. The two became close very fast and today they were best friends.

"Hanna..." She looked up smiling.

“Guns n Roses will be playing here in June!! I can't believe it, I thought I would never see them live again! ” She gave little leaps of joy.

"Hmm that’s great, I'm happy for you," Y/N said, smiling at the girl one more time before going back to work. She didn't listen to much music so going to concerts and festivals was not quite her style.

"Come with me?" She crouched down in front of the table.

"Oh I don't know, you know I don't like these crowded places."

"Please. I don't want to go alone. ” She made puppy eyes, staring at Y/N.

"Do not look at me like that!" She pointed her index finger, but Hanna was persistent. "Ah, fine, I'll go with you!" She gave in.

"Yess!!" Hanna celebrated as she stood up doing a victory dance.

Y/N started laughing, making the girl stop.

"What's it?"

She pointed with the pen. Looking back, Hanna saw her boss shaking his head as he looked in her direction.

"Shit!" She scratched the back of her neck, sitting on the chair in front of Y/N’s table. "Do you think he's going to fire me?"

"No ... but he'll think twice before inviting you to the Christmas party this year." She giggled a little.

"Thank God..." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"What day will the concert be?" Y/N asked, going back to signing papers.

“June 10th. I'm going to buy tickets today after work, I'll bring yours tomorrow.”

Hanna looked like a child when she was happy, which always relaxed Y/N's serious mood.

"All right." She prolonged the first word, writing the day on a post-it note.

---

June 10th arrived and Hanna made sure they arrived two hours ahead to get a spot close to the stage.

Wearing denim shorts and a black T-shirt, she accompanied Hanna across the field until she reached the edge of the stage. At least she would be able to see the show up close.

The hot afternoon sun went down and a cool breeze came with the night, but Y/N's irritation didn’t fade away. The band was almost an hour late for the concert and every few minutes someone was bumping into her, making her wish she had stayed at home.

The stage lights came on and a guy with black curly hair came on stage, playing a riff that sounded wonderful to her ears.

Kanskje jeg vil glede meg over denne konserten. She thought to herself

Maybe I’ll enjoy this concert.

Soon the rest of the band members appeared and she became convinced that it would be a good show. That's until the vocalist entered the stage.

He was wearing tight white shorts and a leather jacket, his hair in a red bandana and her heart missed a beat.

Her mouth was slightly open and she put her hand on her chest, to make sure her heart was still beating.

It was him. Axl. The guy from the cottage.

He funnily ran and danced around the stage and his voice sounded so different from what she remembered. But there was no doubt, it was him.

"What's it?" Hanna screamed near her ear when she saw that her friend was not moving.

"It's him!"

"Who?"

"The guy from the cottage!"

She had told Hanna about the event, although she had never mentioned his name.

"Axl Rose??" Hanna's eyes widened, looking from Y/N to Axl and to Y/N again. "Holy shit!"

For the rest of the concert, Y/N couldn't take her eyes off of him anymore. But he hadn't noticed her. They were on the side and he spent more time in the center.

But then the guitar solo started and the same guy from the beginning took over from Axl, who started to leave the stage.

He was smiling, laughing at something and then his eyes shifted to the right and he saw her. The smile disappeared completely from his face and stopped walking.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds before he walked over to the edge, making the fans next to Y/N scream out of control.

"Good to see you." He smiled, lowering himself in front of her.

She nodded, smiling, not being able to form words.

Fans around her started trying to push her to get closer to him, the screams making it impossible for her to understand what he had said.

He could tell by her face that she didn't understand, pointing sideways with his thumb and making a sign with his fingers that meant later.

"Backstage later." He spoke again and she could read his lips, finally managing to assimilate the information.

She nodded quickly, giving him a thumbs up.

After the solo, the band played a few more songs before finishing. At every chance he got, Axl came over to her, singing while looking into her eyes, making a huge smile come over her lips.

When the show was over she pulled Hanna by the hand, heading backstage. Where a security guard at the entrance made her stop.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, Axl is waiting for me." She said with a small smile.

"Identification, please."

"She showed him the concert ticket."

"This is the common ticket, I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t pass."

"Wait! Y/N? ” A man in a red button-down shirt appeared behind the security guard. "Are you Y/N?"

She nodded.

"Let her in, Axl wants to talk to her."

"What about this one?" He pointed to Hanna.

"She’s with me!" Y/N said, taking her friend's hand.

"Let her in too."

The security guard made room, letting the two pass.

"Come, this way." He started walking down several corridors. "I'm Doug Goldstein, by the way." He turned for half a second offering them a small smile.

"We're here," he said after almost a minute of walking.

Opening the door there was a spacious room with several couches, all the members of the band were there, except him. There were other women in the room, some on the lap of the band members.

"They are groupies." Hanna whispered in Y/N's ear.

"What is it?"

"They like rockstars, travel with bands and sleep with them."

Y/N nodded, understanding what she meant. "Lucky for them, they are very cute."

"Aren’t they?" She laughed softly.

"Hey, I saw you two at the gig!" A tall, blond guy said getting closer.

"Oh my God, Duff McKagan noticed me during the gig!" Hanna said, putting her hand on her forehead as if she was going to pass out.

Duff laughed.

"And you are?" He offered his hand for them to shake.

"My goodness!!" She gave a little squeak. "I'm Hanna and this is Y/N." She shook his hand. "I shook Duff McKagan's hand!!" She looked at Y/N. "Do you believe? Me?" Hanna pointed to herself.

Y/N and Duff laughed.

"Is she always that excited?" He asked as he shook Y/N's hand.

"She is a huge fan." She said laughing.

"I am! I am! I even have a T-shirt signed by Slash. I paid

200 bucks on it.” She said the last part with a little remorse for the money spent.

"We can get you another one, I can ask the guys to sign it for you." He smiled a little and Hanna smiled, nodding quickly.

“So you are the famous Y/N! Axl has talked about you for years! ”

Before she could answer she heard his voice saying her name.

Looking to the side, Axl was standing in the hall, wearing only his shorts while a towel was slung over his shoulder.

Det forblir varmt. She thought.

He’s still hot.

He nodded, indicating that she should follow him, so she did.

After a few steps, Axl stopped, opening a door that had his name written on it, and letting her in first. As soon as he closed the door, her lips were glued to his.

Their kiss was hot as summer rain and urgent as if they only had a few seconds to do it. Her hands touched his face, bringing him closer, while his hands infiltrated in her hair, gently pulling the strands at the top of her neck.

A small moan left her lips and he smiled during the kiss, pulling away just long enough to say, "God, how I missed that sound."

He moved his hands to her waist, starting to walk farther into the room, taking her with him.

"Axl." She sighed his name when their lips parted.

He moved away from her a few inches as he stroked her face with his right hand, the left one remaining on her waist, keeping her close.

"Fuck, you haven't changed a thing." He looked at every detail on her face, as if he wanted to memorize it.

"I missed you." She smiled, touching his face.

Axl closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of her touch.

"I missed you so much, you have no idea." He opened his eyes, kissing her again.

The kiss grew hotter and when she realized Axl's hands were on the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms, breaking and kissing and allowing him to remove the garment.

He let out a small growl in the kiss when she pulled his hair gently and he lowered his hands to her ass, squeezing her flesh before he propelled her upward.

Y/N intertwined her legs around Axl's waist and he started to move towards a sofa in the living room. He laid her down gently, removing his lips from hers just so that he could make a trail down her neck, slowly going into the valley between her breasts.

She moved her hands to her back, unclasping her bra and allowing Axl to enjoy her nipples. He took one of them to his mouth, sucking lightly by biting the skin while his fingers played with the other, causing a small moan to come out of her lips.

Y/N moved her hand towards Axl's shorts, feeling his already rigid erection over the fabric, making him moan and look her in the eyes. His gaze was filled with lust with a touch of malice, his pupils dilated.

Continuing his kisses to the south, Axl stopped at the waistband of her shorts, unbuttoning the garment and removing it from her body. His fingers caressed her core over her panties, making her gasp.

He slowly removed the last piece of clothing from her body, applying soft kisses to the extension of her leg, until the material was finally free and she was completely exposed to his gaze.

He stood up, removing his white shorts, tossing them on the floor before removing his sneakers in a hurry. He wore no underwear and the sight of his free and throbbing member made Y/N bite her lower lip while she sat down.

Axl climbed onto the couch, kissing her again. She moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing him to sit on the sofa, his back against the armrest when she climbed on his lap, making him smile mischievously.

Y/N touched his member, running its length a few times before collecting some of her juices with its tip and positioning it at her entrance.

Slowly she started to go down, keeping her gaze fixed on Axl's, she felt him fill her completely, letting a small moan leave her lips with the sensitivity.

She started with her movements, going up and down. Axl's hands found her hips, squeezing them firmly and guiding her movements until she reached a steady rhythm.

"Axl" She moaned his name, throwing her head back and allowing the sensation of pleasure to take over her mind.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He moved his lips to her now exposed neck, making her moan even more.

After a few minutes, Axl started to move his hips, meeting her movements, hitting her G-spot with strength and precision, making a loud moan leave her lips.

"Yes, moan for me, baby." He moved his thumb to her lips, allowing her to suck it, and he grunted at the sight.

"Axl ... I’m going to ..." Her breathing was rapid when she uttered the words between moans.

"I know baby. Cum to me. ” He said, moving his right hand to her clit, applying precise movements that made her moan even louder, if that was possible.

A cry with his name filled the room when she reached her peak, rolling her eyes and feeling her legs tremble with the wave of pleasure that spread through her body.

Axl's hands cupped her face, bringing her close to him as they continued to move. He enveloped her in a deep kiss and her hands tugged at his hair, knowing it was his weak spot.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned after a few minutes, parting their lips, but staying close enough that their noses would bump up every few seconds. "I love you." He said looking into her eyes, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

"I love you." She whimpered due to sensitivity, she could feel her walls tightening for another orgasm and she scraped his back with greed when a long moan left her lips and she closed her eyes.

“Fuck… Y/N.” It was all that Axl could say before they could both be hit by another orgasm, his jets filling her while her walls tightened his member, their juices mixing inside of her.

Sweaty and out of breath, all that could be heard in the room were their heavy breaths.

She leaned her forehead against his, holding his face with both hands as he hugged her.

"You don't know how much time I spent looking for you." He whispered.

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"I hired a guy, but he never found you." 

She removed some locks of his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "I went back to the cottage the following year, but you weren't there."

"Shit, I was on tour." He giggled a little.

"When I was told we were going to play here, I couldn't help but hope that you would come."

"Well, I'm here now." She smiled sweetly, kissing his lips.

“Come to America with me? I don't want to be away from you anymore. ”

She stopped for a few seconds, thinking about his proposal.

"Please." He pleaded in a whisper.

Slowly she started to nod. “Yes, I will go with you! I don't want to be away from you anymore either. ”

The two smiled at each other before engaging in another passionate kiss, glad for finally being together again.

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