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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

A Misplaced Imbalance of Fear

Ao3, MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Dukexiety, implied/minor Moceit (platonic or romantic)

From the power of my Art and my Shitposts comes This Fanfiction!!!

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Lots of Cursing, descriptions of gore (horror movies, it gets decently explicit so beware that), mild body horror (Remus is here and he Does Things Like That), Heavy Roman angst for a hot minute in the middle, making out (continuing my theme of remus-centric fics getting more ;3). They do some makeup and drink tea, baby. Mentions of picking one’s skin as an Anxious habit, and also ticking. Also stimming!!! nd sides 4 life bb. Also, a very brief alcohol mention (it’s soup).

Word Count: 6,553

God Fucking Fuck, Virgil was going to have a self-care day even if it killed him dead. Everybody else could do whatever overdramatic fuckery they wanted when they were topside, but he was all set down there in the Mindpalace, thank you very much.

Luckily, mercifully, thankfully, the rest of the sides all seemed keen to let Virgil have his space anyway. There wasn’t a thing stopping him from relaxing.

Well, except for himself, of course.

A thrum of condensed stress and fear tugged at Virgil’s abdomen, bubbling its way over his edges. It was equally his own and the others’, probably due to whatever conversation they were caught up in in the external world. He would not relent to the worry, nor was he summoned to help with the situation, but his body refused to stop shaking. Perched on the top of the couch, frantically clicking the buttons on a fidget cube, Virgil tried to watch the gore playing on the TV in a tired effort to calm his nerves.

Horror movies… helped. They were something for his brain to chew on for a while- their over-the-top and ridiculous plots, the obnoxious characters that almost always deserve what’s coming to them, the attention-attaining action- it was all a recipe for Distraction. But they weren’t working by that point, no matter how badly Virgil wanted them to.

And then- possibly because the universe loved to spite Virgil and Virgil specifically- a walking, talking headache flung himself into the common room about as elegantly as a wolfhound with rabies.

“Heyyyy,” Remus crowed as he sprawled himself out on the couch. Anxiety curled his legs closer under his body, unresponsive- he knew full well that any reaction would just be an invitation for trouble from the obnoxious trait. He’d remember what Logan taught them: don’t engage, just brush it all off.

Unfortunately, Remus seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

“Whatcha watching?”

“Movie,” Virgil grumbled.

“What movie?”

He eyed the side laying out on the couch below him, narrowing his gaze as threateningly as he could manage. He spat the words through gritted teeth and made it clear he was not having this today.

“It’s called Terrifier.”

Remus perked up at that, and oh God, if he was interested then he’d never go the fuck away.

“What’s it about?”

There wasn’t much Virgil could do but answer in as clipped a tone as he could; things hadn’t gotten too bad, too uncomfortable, yet. Maybe he could redirect Remus’ attention, if he was just boring and unresponsive enough?

“Just a cliche creepy clown flick. Not much to it.”

“Is it gory?”

Virgil made a vaguely affirmative sound in his throat, gesturing to the screen. In truth, the movie’s impeccable special effects with gore was its main appeal, as the acting and plot was kinda atrocious. Violence was the exact reason he’d chosen to watch this. But he knew saying that wouldn’t help his chances of shaking off Intrusive Thoughts.

Remus looked ready to spout off something explicit, but he went dead quiet as his eyes fell on the scene on the television. Virgil was grateful for small mercies.

It was exactly the kind of thing that the creative trait would watch, after all; a woman getting sawed in half, lengthwise, starting from the- er, the wrong end. Under circumstances of a more typical anxious flare-up, the scene really could have been one of those ‘helpful distractions’.

These were not normal circumstances.Yeah, this was one of those ‘too passive’ cases, but Virgil didn’t exactly have the energy for anything ‘active’. So, he stubbornly glared at the TV and pretended that his solution was working, because he had no idea what else to do. Perfect plan.

Preoccupied as he was with his internal issues, he very nearly managed to forget about Remus. Until-

“Holy fuck, this is gorgeous, you watch stuff like this?!” The Duke’s eyes were bright, but not with his usual hysteria. They were wide with genuine excitement, shiny and happy. It was- uncanny, that’s probably the word Virgil was looking for. He curled closer in on himself.

“Shouldn’t be that surprising, dude. ‘Scary’ is kind of my thing.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen this one,” the creative side was once again completely enamored by the television screen, “Don’t blood and guts and cool things like that freak you out? They always seem to do the trick when I try to mess with you!”

“It’s different. The violence in movies, it- it calms me down, I guess. Cause it’s like, I don’t know, detached from reality?”

There was a pause that had Virgil hoping, naively, that Remus had grown bored at his spiel. But he wasn’t moving, he was just staring, gaze switching contemplatively from the screen to Virgil a few times over.

“It doesn’t look like that. If you were any more tense, all your tendons would be snapping like badly-tuned violin strings!”

“Yeah, no shit,” Virgil pressed his back against the wall and shut his eyes tight. He could still hear- no, feel- Patton and Roman and Thomas arguing, snapping at each other back and forth as the situation escalated.

“Is this about whatever the others are doing? Why don’t you just stop listening to their shitty arguments?”

A harsh laugh escaped Virgil at that, dragging him back down to earth so he could blink his eyes open, glaring at the facet lying beneath him.

“I can’t just stop, that’s not how I work. I need to keep an ear on them. Who knows what could happen if I didn’t?”

“Well, why don’t you just go talk to them?”

If he wasn’t already frustrated beyond belief, that would’ve fuckin’ done it for him.

“I don’t think I’d be much help. Not right now.”

“Why not?” Remus looked halfway between genuinely curious and mischievous, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Anxiety.

“Seriously? Things aren’t exactly, like- normal between all of us.”

“What is normal?”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came through. As much as it sounded like an offhanded, edgy 13-year-old atheist kind of remark, it was a decent point. Virgil had thought that there was something of a status quo forming between himself and the ‘light sides’, but how long had that even lasted for? Especially compared to the rest of his life? Everything was changing all the time. Was there anything to rely on, or was it just Virgil’s own wishful thinking for what their lives could be? After all, even in ‘peaceful times’, there had been plenty of in-fighting and disagreements and horrible uncomfortable conversations and harsh words and-

“Oh, shut that brain up,” Remus’ sharp voice pulled Virgil from his thoughts, “I know what you meant ‘normal’. You meant the six months when you got to forget about us Scary Monsters, and, DUH! It was probably way simpler for all you diet-soda-no-sugar sluts back then, but that doesn’t mean it was better.”

“Yeah, you would think that things are better now, wouldn’t you?”

Remus fixed Virgil with an unsettling sort of grimace, making the other squirm. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so by any means.

“I dunno, but what I do know is that things are getting better. They’ll be the best they could be, soon.”

Despite himself, Virgil laughed. It was a faltering, anxious sound, revealing the true fear behind the taunting gesture.

“Really? With everybody at each other’s throats all the time?”

“While that does sound fun,” Remus sat up fully, twisting around to look directly up at Virgil, “I mean after that. After we’re all accepted. It’s inevitable- Inevitable, Anxious Lil’ Barista,” Remus accompanied the referential nickname with a wink.

Virgil stared at him like he was crazy (well- like- crazier than usual, he guessed?). Remus just threw his head back and laughed before spinning his neck one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the TV while he explained.

“Point is, it’s painfully obvious that everything will sort itself out. It has to, or else the only other option is that Thomas is gonna drive himself insane by trying to suppress parts of himself and end up clawing his own brain out. One of those two things!”

While colorfully phrased, the certainty with which Remus delivered his point had Virgil taken aback. There was no way that Remus could possibly know that, but- in a backwards way it was comforting, how sure he sounded. He didn’t lie, not ever.

Virgil had never thought that Remus would settle for anything less than going out of his way to make others’ lives a hell. But maybe that antagonism wasn’t what exactly motivated the trait’s actions. Maybe it was just an unintentional side effect, akin to what Logan had said when Remus first revealed himself.

The moment of reprieve was over as soon as it began.

“Fuck! He just cut off her tits and wore ‘em, huh?”

Virgil looked up and, to be fair, that was exactly what had happened on screen. Like he said, this movie wasn’t exactly poetic cinema, but it certainly was something.

He scooted along the top of the couch, moving just a few feet before dropping down to sit properly beside Remus.

“3/10 drag look at best, really,” Virgil muttered, mostly to himself. He jumped when Remus shrieked with laughter at it, looking absolutely delighted.

“I didn’t know you made jokes like that, VeeVee!”

Virgil shrugged noncommittally, focusing on the screen and not the facet beside him. Remus’ giggling was loud and distracting, but it wasn’t… unpleasant, unlike his typical villain-cackle was.

Once Remus had settled down (as much as somebody like him could, anyway), he, too, focused on watching. The quiet was uncomfortable, but it didn’t stretch on for long. There was always something in the movie that The Duke felt the need to comment upon extensively, elaborating and giving details on the gore. Virgil found himself listening to the rants silently, almost enjoying the disruption. It certainly gave his overactive mind something to play around with.

“-skin doesn’t slice as easy as that, trust me-”

Aaaand there it was. Virgil winced, trying very hard not to show that the words had struck a nerve. He liked horror, gore, all that, sure, but there were just some specific things- squicks, you could call them. Remus would obviously use that to his advantage, so the only option was to try very hard to zone out and not look like he was disturbed.

“But even then- Hey, why are you making that face?”

Mission failed.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Remus shifted closer- invasively closer, his gaze studying.

“You were calming down earlier, what's with the scrunch-nose?”

Virgil stared at his hands, chipping away his black nail polish. Remus was nearly as good at reading lies as Janus, and twice as hard to get rid of.

“It's just- skin, slicing, that stuff just-” he ticked, head spasming sideways briefly at even the thought of that kind of pain.

“Oh,” Remus said plainly, not even a hint of malice or mischief in his tone as he leaned back into his own spot, “Why didn't you just say so? Well, that last exploding head kill is way more interesting anyway, did you see that?”

That was… it? No taunting, no tormenting, he just changed the topic, like that?

Remus, continuing to be weirdly perceptive, scoffed as though he was reading Virgil’s mind.

“What? Just because I like screwing with you prudes sometimes doesn't mean I want to give you a panic attack. Where's the fun in that?”

Anxiety nodded mutely, bewildered. Remus seemed appeased by that and quickly resumed his running commentary.

And if Virgil eventually decided to take part in the discussion, well, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. Just some polite conversation about bodily mutilation.

The television darkened as the screen was washed by credits, filling the space where the disfigured face of the main character had been mere moments prior, the result of a pretty predictable twist ending. Virgil stood, arching his back up in a stretch. His arms raised higher, one joint or another crackling at the motion. Fuck, he was sore. How long had he been sitting still?

Remus hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He tapped his claws along the remote, exiting to the homescreen and looking expectantly at Virgil.

“You don't wanna watch anything else?” He asked abruptly, drawing a confused glance from his companion, “This is fun- and they're still arguing up there, so it kinda makes sense to stay, it’s really the best solution if you-”

Virgil huffed a laugh at the rambling. It sounded like some shit he’d say, for crying out loud.

“Dude, chill, I was just gonna make some tea before putting on another movie,” the clear relief that ran across Remus' face- quickly replaced by a wide grin- wasn't anything shy of… sweet. Virgil was sure this day couldn't get any fucking weirder, if he was finding anything endearing about the walking talking dirty joke before him. “Uh, you want anything? Since you're gonna stick around, and all.”

Remus jumped up, following Virgil into the MindPalace’s small kitchen happily. In one smooth motion, he swung up onto the counter and slid down it, seating himself almost on top of the stove.

“No hot leaf soup for me, thanks, but I will take one of those mugs!”

Virgil raised a brow, staring the creative trait down before shrugging. He passed him one of the mugs, a generic and patternless one- so that the other sides probably wouldn't notice its absence. He busied himself by setting up the kettle, trying not to wince at the loud wet crunch that resulted when Remus took a bite of his snack.

“Hey,” Remus said around a mouthful of ceramic chunks, “I know just the movie we should watch next.”

Virgil shifted around the various tea boxes littering the cabinets, searching for something with a kick. He hazarded a glance to Remus, immediately regretting the decision when he saw the blood dribbling down his chin from the cuts marring his lips. Anxiety cringed, turning his head back and grabbing for the first brightly-colored box he saw. It took him a moment to respond.

“Okay… what is it?”

“It's awful- I mean, really, the acting is unbearable and it’s fucking insane- but it's funny. You like making fun of stuff, right? It's like that, but there's still a ton of agonizing death, which is always a fun bonus.”

“What's it about?” Virgil was hesitantly intrigued, his gaze flicking up from the steadily heating kettle. He wasn't exactly keen on staring down the gory scene of Remus’ mouth, so he settled his focus on the trait’s eyeball brooch.

“Uhn-uhn! No spoilers, this is one you have to see for yourself. It's funnier that way.”

Virgil made a noncommittal sound, tapping his nails against the counters.

“Nothing too bad happens- not that you can't handle, anyway. No slicing and not many jumpscares.”

He resisted the urge to snap 'how do you know what I can’t handle?' because Remus actively trying to reassure him was. Something. Something that he appreciated, maybe, a little.

“Okay, fine. I didn't have anything else in mind. A ‘So-Bad-It’s-Good’ thing sounds alright.”

The obnoxious gnawing of Remus destroying what was left of his cup suddenly ceased, replaced by a stunned silence. Virgil finally met his eyes (finding that the lacerations around Remus’ mouth were already healing themselves, as if they'd never existed).

“You’re taking my suggestion?”

Virgil cleared his throat, finding himself unable to break the intense eye-contact now that it had been established.

“It's not a big deal or anything, man. Just a movie.”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, a grin splitting his face ear-to-ear. Very literally. The expression was so unnatural and cartoonish on a human(ish) face, that Virgil couldn't help but be startled into laughter. Remus looked even more delighted at that reaction, leaning forward over the stove. At that point, Virgil very much couldn't suppress the noises, snorts bubbling up from his throat against his will.

“You look-” another bout of chuckling, “-you look ridiculous, Remus.”

“Aw, thank you! I was going for manic, but I'll settle for that, too.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, hunching in on himself to get his breathing back to normal.

With no warning, Remus lifted himself up onto his knees and craned his body around the vigilant trait, snatching the kettle from the stove and flipping the dial to ‘off’. Instinctively, Anxiety recoiled from the proximity. The tension fell away when he saw that the other was simply pouring the hot water into Virgil’s mug for him.

“Dude, it wasn't whistling yet?”

“I know; it was hissing like it was about to start. You're boring and don't like loud noises, especially when you’re all on edge like this, so,” he set the kettle back down, passing the warm mug to Virgil.

Virgil stared at him, then at the drink in his hand, then back up at the Duke. He was, for what felt like the millionth time that day, unsure of how to react.

He… really hadn't thought that Remus would pick up on stuff like that. He should probably start getting used to that, maybe.

“I'm-” Virgil dragged his finger up and down the handle of his mug, “I'm not that on edge anymore, actually.”

The look that Remus sent him was indecipherable.

“C’mon, I’ll queue up that flick I told you about.”

“Yeah,” Virgil let out a deep breath, one he hadn't even known he'd been holding, “Yeah, okay.”

The floor was bubbling, popping, blistering with red fury. It was lava, sending bright flaming sparks in all directions. Thankfully for Remus and Virgil, sitting close together on the couch and viciously mocking cabin fever, the vicious rage was exclusive to one small circle near the staircase.

Virgil, who had been happily tearing apart the leading guy’s acting, cut himself off abruptly.

“Shit- wait- shit.”

Remus shook himself out of his raucous laughter, looking up in confusion. His eyes finally settled on the crimson patch of carpet, a look of realization crossing them. His voice turned much quieter than what fit him.

“Oh, fuck.”

It was like a volcanic eruption localized entirely within the living room, fire blazing in a tall column. From the emotional display, Roman rose up, face nearly as red as his method of transportation.

There was that brief moment, right when a stressful situation appeared, of antithetical serenity. Virgil felt his muscles slacken in shock, his long-empty mug falling from his hands and landing on the carpet with a dull thud. A rush of calmness hollowed out his chest, lingering for just a few seconds before being replaced by panic. Tension returned to his limbs mere moments after that, like it was pulling him taut.

Roman wasn't even looking at them- in fact, he hadn't seemed to notice his brother or best friend at all. The fire fell back down, leaving a charred patch of carpet that would likely take a long time to repair itself. The passionate trait growled, a sound that bordered on a scream as he clawed his hands down his face. He stamped his boot sharply against the ground, igniting another small fire with the impact.

“Fuck!” He cried, ever oblivious to his audience. With a hasty wave, the flames flickered and disappeared. Roman glared down at the blackened spot where it had been, winding his arms tightly around himself. He took a few shaky breaths, but if anything he only looked worse off for it.

“Fuck,” this time spoken quieter, but with no less vitriol. An immaculately-manicured hand raised itself to cover his mouth, tightening around his face desperately as tears slipped from his eyes down his fingers. He turned on his heel and took the stairs two at a time.

In his wake, as the television had been paused, the only thing that Virgil could hear was buzzing in his skull.

What had happened? What was happening, currently?! Things had gone so wrong and it was all because of Virgil’s negligence- what bad things could have been prevented if he had just been there? Or- or even just listening in! When had he even stopped listening? He was supposed to protect them but he just gave up, just because he ‘couldn't handle it’, and now something was Wrong with Roman and he couldn't even focus on listening to them all now, not like this. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t hear or see anything at all.

A rough, calloused hand wrapped around his wrist. Virgil's shallow breath staggered even more at the feeling, the warbly noise of speech failing to meet his ears. His eyes were closed tight, he realized, stinging with emotion behind his eyelids.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Four seconds, four strikingly gentle presses against the vein of Virgil’s wrist. If it weren't for the slight edge of a claw, he could've confused the motion for one of Patton’s.

The four taps were followed by a brief pause, then a steady round of seven taps. Another pause, and then eight. As Virgil focused, as much as he could anyway, on the presses, the screaming of his mind very gradually abated. First, he pried his eyes open, staring down at the hand around his arm. Watching the tapping, feeling it, was grounding enough for his hearing to return in time. Virgil could hear Remus beside him, breathing deeply as a guide, and copying the exercise became that much easier. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Remus didn't stop when Virgil did it properly one time over, when he was still shaking and teary. He didn't speak up even when the well behind Anxiety's eyes ran dry, after what had to be a dozen rounds of even breaths. It was only when Virgil finally, hesitantly slipped his wrist out of the other's grasp on his own terms that Remus made any sounds.

“Do you remember when you taught me to do makeup? Late teens, early twenties, around then?”

Talk about a topic shift. Virgil glanced up in confusion.

“I guess so? Wasn't that, like, the only time that we hung out and actually got along?” They’d never exactly been close, Virgil had made sure of that. It was, in retrospect, a regrettable decision on his part.

“Yeah. I was so bad at it, remember?”

“Hell yes, I remember,” Virgil felt a tiny smirk tug his lips at the memory, “You literally never sat still. You were and are the most impatient person I've ever met.”

“I’ve gotten a lot better, Vee.”

Virgil glanced at the bruise-like eyeshadow circling the Duke's eyes, but refrained from saying anything. Knowing him (kind of knowing him? Starting to know him better now? Whatever.) it was most definitely intentionally off-putting, and probably not a good way to judge his actual ability.

“But I’ve seen how you do it, when you really, really try; I think you're still better than me with it, ju-u-ust barely.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil wasn't entirely sure where this was going, but he couldn't find the soft excitement in Remus’ eyes anything other than enticing. The creative side laughed, flapping his hand.

“It would be fun if you did it for me again! Just like old times, ey?”

Virgil stared at him, considering him carefully.

“You want me to do your makeup?”

“Yes!” Remus leaned forward with his confirmation, but for once that didn't involve violating Virgil’s post-panic attack bubble, “It'll give you something to do with your hands other than peeling back all your skin, at the very least.”

Oh, right. Virgil not-so-subtly lifted his nails from his palms, wincing at the irritated red spots coloring his hands.

Truth be told, the idea wasn't… unappealing. It was an activity well between mindless and active, repetitive and artistic. Plus, he didn't exactly love being alone after attacks, and if anything Remus would be lively company. Company that he sort of, maybe, possibly was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with anyway, unfortunate events notwithstanding.

“Yeah, alright, if you're sure you want-”

“Great! Wait right there, bee-arh-bee,” before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Remus went limp and fell sideways off of the couch, falling right through the floor.

In his absence, there was a void where his noise had been. Virgil stared at the paused movie scene, picking apart the little details of the frame just to have something to do. His mind drifted off to the state that Roman had been in when he entered. The sight of his friend so furious burned itself on the backs of Virgil’s eyelids. He knew that the anxiety wasn't all his own, either; he could feel it like waves from the other side of the MindPalace, the origin point clearly belonging to Roman.

He should check on him, shouldn't he? Or would that make it worse? Virgil certainly didn't feel like he was in any state to help. But then there was Patton to consider- something must have happened up there. Should he look for him, too?

There was a whoosh.

“I leave you alone for five seconds and you get right back to thinking!” Remus strode across the room, flopping right back onto the couch. Held in his arms was an enormous multi-pocketed bag, items clattering around within at every jostle their owner made.

“Overthinking is literally my whole job, man, this shouldn't surprise you,” Virgil shrugged, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt.

Remus simply rolled his eyes and dropped the makeup case onto Virgil's lap, sitting criss-cross parallel to him, their knees brushing slightly.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, scanning Remus' face, but all the other did was smile and blink (one eye at a time).

Virgil zipped open the bag, rifling through and finding an overwhelming array of gaudy colors and odd products.

“Was there, like, a 'look' that you want to go for?”

Remus shrugged.

“Just go for it! I’m a blank canvas. The worse, the better.”

Virgil chuckled, picking out a few items to fit a theme he was coming up with and getting right to work.

Though it had been years since they’d last spent time together, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it felt more comfortable than it had back then.

Remus managed to sit almost perfectly still, chattering the entire time that Virgil worked. Yet again his voice served as something like white-noise, wherein Anxiety only had to contribute whenever he chose. Remus only quieted when Virgil had to hold his face, tipping his head back to properly apply inky-black lipstick. And then, he remained silent for a moment, as they surveyed each other.

Virgil had cleared his throat, warmth prickling at his ears, and the ceaseless rambling resumed after that.

In what felt like hours and no time at all, Virgil was finally satisfied with his work.

“Alright, you're all done,” he capped the bottle of mascara in his hand, rifling through Remus' bag for a mirror, “Wanna see?”

Just as he felt the unmistakable cool surface of glass on his fingertips, Remus grabbed his wrist in both hands.

“What-?”

“Not so fast! Now it's my turn,” he announced, his zealous eyes even more prominent on his face thanks to the thick wings of eyeliner around them.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Virgil looked from the assortment of garish colors that he'd mostly stayed away from in the makeup case, and then back up at the Duke.

“Usually: yes. But I am dead serious right now, Vee.”

Remus looked pleading, legitimately pouting.

Virgil huffed. The side had gone out of his way to help him, when he really didn't have to, so…

“You're not going to just use this as an excuse to draw all over my face, are you?”

“I mean, no promises that I'll be able to restrain myself, but! Gimme a chance anyway, I can make you even hotter than you already are! Plus, we'll match then.”

“... Fine. Just- nothing too crazy, alright?”

“Again, no promises.”

Virgil groaned, but he still passed the bag to Remus.

“Holy shit...”

Remus leaned over the basin of the bathroom sink, drumming his hands on the counter excitedly. He was starry-eyed as he observed the dark, dramatic colors covering his face: metallic emerald-green eyeshadow, excessively long lashes, and winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch. His lips were black as void, but shimmered like glitter. Everything about the look was dangerous, confrontational, and grim.

“This is more out there than I’d usually wear, but. Yeah, holy shit.”

Virgil's expression, despite his best efforts, was equally awed as he peered into the mirror. The color around his eyes was mismatched; a lime to moss green gradient over his purple eye, lavender to royal violet over his green one- both colors contrasted by smudged black eyeliner under his eye. His signature Racoon Look had been maintained in that aspect, but it was even more exaggerated. In addition to that, Remus had taken to drawing various little symbols along Virgil's cheekbones, including things like upside-down crosses. Finally, there was the fuchsia lip-gloss, stark against Virgil’s paler-than-normal foundation.

“It’s okay, I guess,” Virgil breathed reverently.

“I love it!” Remus crowed, clambering onto the counter just to get a better look at himself. Somehow, he'd already managed to smudge the hell out of his eyeshadow, but it kinda… worked for him, if Virgil was being honest.

“Vee, we have got to do this more often!”

Virgil looked from his reflection to Remus', startled in a way he didn't entirely understand. The intrusive facet met his gaze through the mirror, the smile sliding off his face when Virgil didn’t respond to him.

“Right, Raggedy-Anx? It doesn't have to be this, specifically, if you really don't want to. We could just watch movies together, that's fine. Or we could do anything at all! Right?”

Virgil was still silent, lost in his mind. Remus fell from a kneeling position to sitting with his legs hanging off the counter, turning his back to the mirror.

“Was this a one-time thing? That's alright, too, if you just needed help calming down. I'm not as good as the others, I know, but if they're ever too busy again, you'll think of me when you need help, at least. Right?”

Finally, Virgil snapped out of his daze when he heard the panicked edge to Remus’ voice, feeling his anxiety as Virgil noticed the wild look that had completely erased his giddiness. It was a look that Virgil had seen plenty of times before, when Remus had been ignored far too long and was right about to start ripping things to shreds for some scraps of attention. Only then did Virgil fully recognize what the expression actually meant; the deep, terrified need that swirled behind the look, unsure of how to ask for what it really wanted after so many denials of that very want.

“Shit, sorry,” Virgil moved to stand in front of him, eye-level to Remus even though he was elevated by the counter, “Hey, it's alright, Re, everything's fine.”

Remus was still trying very determinedly to smile.

“I know! Hell, I’m not the anxious one, I'm the one that makes people anxious,” his laugh sounded like it came from a throat full of broken glass, “I just- I liked this, ya know?”

“I know,” Virgil leaned forward, coaxing Remus' arms away from where he'd wrapped them around himself, “I like this, too.”

Remus let Virgil hold onto him, surprised into something like obedience.

“You? What?”

“I like this,” it wasn't as though Virgil was expecting to hug Remus, but it seemed to have happened on its own as they moved. It was leagues nicer than he could have imagined, despite the smell. “I like you…-r company.”

“That's weird,” Remus' legs curled around Virgil’s waist. Virgil rested his hands on Remus’ hips. He listened as the creative trait's breathing evened out, vaguely aware that the situation was similar to the one just an hour or so before. Except, the roles had been reversed, of course.

“I missed you. I know I never told you, but I missed you.”

Virgil felt guilt, hot and molten, dripping down his throat. He couldn't lie; he hadn't missed Remus when he left. But now he did, in a roundabout sort of way. He missed what could have been, all of the possible understanding and friendship and likely more that he could have had for so long with Remus- all of which he'd let slip by for years. Due to just writing the artist off as disgusting, or unnecessary.

And perhaps some of that misunderstanding was Remus' fault as well, but Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against him.

“You don't have to anymore. Miss me, I mean. I'm- fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“Me too,” Remus said, pulling back to settle Virgil with a happy-yet-tearfilled gaze.

“Aw, hey,” he tightened his grip at Remus' hips, smirking, “You're gonna fuck up all my hard work on that eyeliner, Re.”

Remus laughed, loud and shrieky and him, smiling unnaturally and brilliantly wide once again. Virgil's breath caught in his throat- not for the first time that day, he found himself trapped up in that wild, energetic face.

Before Virgil was entirely aware of what he was doing, he was leaning forward, pulling Remus in by the waist. When the cackling finally stopped short, so did he, both much too far and far too close to the Duke.

He didn't have the chance to explain himself, or apologize, or anything, because soon enough understanding flashed in Remus' eyes.

“Oh, oh yes, oh hell fucking yes.”

Remus didn’t wait a second longer before closing the distance and smashing his lips against Virgil’s. A startled sound bubbled up in his throat, dying quickly as he acclimated to what was happening. Just as he did, he was reciprocating the kiss.

Their teeth clashed together uncomfortably, and Virgil was hyper-aware of the threat both his own and Remus’ fangs posed if they weren’t careful, making it far from the perfect first kiss. But he wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, nor would he have expected it. It was, somehow, better.

Remus' hand dragged down Virgil's back, his fingers fitting onto the notches of the facet’s spine. Virgil shivered, pressing himself flush against the counter (and Remus) and digging his thumbs into the trait’s hips. The motion earned him a beautiful whine from the other as the kiss deepened, growing less awkward and more heated by the second.

Virgil was unaware of how much time was passing, but when they finally parted, both were short of breath and significantly disheveled. Remus had his back pressed up against the mirror, his hair even fuzzier than its usual state, expression dazed and face flushed. From what Virgil could make out in his own reflection, he wasn't much better off.

Just as soon as they'd separated, Remus' hand was on his face, his thumb dragging just under Anxiety's lip.

“You fucked up your lipstick,” he teased.

“So did you,” Virgil answered with a smirk, leaning into the touch.

“I guess we'll have to fix it later.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus wriggled himself out of his pinned position, twisting around Virgil. He managed to situate himself and drop down from the bathroom counter, his manner suggestive, “Because all I wanna do right now is finish watching Cabin Fever with my new goth boyfriend and makeout during the boring parts.”

“Boyfriend?” Virgil ignored the jolt of warmth he felt at that, determined to stay nonchalant as he (subtly (not subtly)) slipped his hand into Remus’.

“You disagree?”

Virgil pretended to think it over, leading them to the door and taking his time to click it open.

“Nah, I don’t disagree,” he said finally, “I think I like the sound of that, actuall- yyyy.”

Virgil stopped short in the open doorway, voice dragging out in his shock. Behind him, he could feel Remus trying to crane around him to see what was happening, but Virgil didn’t move to accommodate him. Well, more accurately, he felt like he couldn’t really move at all, too busy parsing out the scene in front of him.

In the corner of the sectional- sharing a cushion- Janus and Patton sat, the former holding aloft a glass of wine, the latter snacking on a muffin. They sat with their legs tangled together, and had seemed to be engrossed with each other before the interruption. Both had paused mid-conversation to gawk in Virgil's direction, twin deer-in-headlights expressions on their faces.

“What-” Virgil began, bewildered.

“The fuck?” Remus finished, pushing his way out of the bathroom.

Janus struggled to sit up into a more dignified position and take the reigns of the conversation. It didn't take him long to overcome his surprise at the interruption, his surveying gaze sweeping over the other two Dark Sides contemplatively. The look made Virgil’s skin crawl.

“You know, we- well, we could ask you two-” he gestured at their interlocked hands, “-just the same question, couldn't we?”

For a moment, there was silence. Virgil looked from Patton to Janus. Janus looked from Virgil to Remus. Patton looked at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Remus looked at everyone and broke the silence.

“You didn't see us,” he announced, sidestepping his way to the staircase and dragging Virgil along with him, “And we didn't see you.”

Janus squinted, tipped his head, and nodded conspiratorially.

“Deal.”

With that little grant, Virgil and Remus darted up the stairs and into the sanctuary of the dimly lit hallway as quickly as they could. Luckily for them, Roman was probably either in a deep depression sleep or far into the imagination by now, and Logan Did Not Engage with Interpersonal Drama if he could help it.

There was a second for appreciating the absurdity of the situation (and catching their breath), before either spoke to each other.

“I’ve got a huge flat screen,” Remus piped up at last, jerking his thumb in the direction of his room.

“Any of us can conjure literally anything we want at any time, so I'm not sure what's impressive about that.”

Remus scowled, albeit playfully.

“Hush! Come watch someone slowly be consumed by a parasite with me!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and let Remus drag him off, his complaints accompanied by absolutely no efforts to avoid the situation.

Things were weird, there was no denying that. Maybe they'd end up being that way for a while yet, and Virgil knew he had a lot of news to catch up on, but he found that thoughts like that were way back in his mind. Whatever happened, he reasoned, he would still have this comfort. The arms of someone he was finally coming to know wrapped tight around him, playing up his back, a mouth trailing kisses on his neck as he half-watched horror films. Yes, things would be difficult with the others, but it was secondary.

There was someone on his side now. Solidly, unarguably there for him. With him. And that made it all feel a little bit easier.

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spacedancer1701 · 4 years

Text

Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 36 - 40)

Sequel to ‘On Borrowed Time’

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Angst/H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy/Worried McCoy Word Count: This is a long one. Again. 😄 (71 chapters - 177k)

Read it on AO3: Another Life

Chapter 36

Obviously, with amnesia, there wasn’t all that much you could do but give it time. And hope. McCoy was still spending his nights researching, but he always seemed to end up with the same disappointing result. There were so many different kinds of amnesia, so many different outcomes and experiences. As he’d told a disappointed Hope long ago, the human brain was still quite a mystery, even in the 23rd century with all its advanced science and opportunities.

The more research he did, however, the more reason he saw to be thankful. That Hope had recovered such a large portion of her memory in such a short time, and was able to just continue with her job as well as all the things she liked to do in her free time, was certainly not the norm. She had been incredibly lucky, and the doctor was grateful for that. Giving up their relationship suddenly seemed like a small price to pay for her to continue her life and her career otherwise unimpaired.

Nevertheless, McCoy still hoped for her to remember. But days turned into weeks, and he started to resign himself to the possibility that she might never recover the past two years. The thought was painful beyond belief, and he was sorry not only for himself, but also for what she had lost. She’d been truly happy, and she’d loved those memories. Spending whole nights reminiscing with him had been one of her favourite things, he thought fondly, hoping against hope that they’d at least get the chance to make new memories.

But things were different now, and she seemed happy, too, fully functional as an officer and having fun getting to know everyone again. Hope was exactly the same woman as before, did the same things, had the same passions and the same wonderful personality. She was the same wonderful woman he’d fallen in love with, the same woman who’d fallen in love with him. But she wasn’t his wonderful woman anymore.

She was getting to know him again, of course, and he was grateful that she was still so comfortable around him. Trusted him, felt safe with him, liked to spend time with him. But since she wasn’t working in sickbay anymore, they just didn’t see as much of each other as they used to during her first year aboard. She was having her evening coffee mostly with other people now, was growing close to other people, too. Their connection wasn’t as special to her as it had been the first time around.

And it certainly didn’t help that he sometimes actively avoided her, because being near her, without being close, was often just too much to bear. Hope was his life, but he had to pretend that she was just a patient, just another crew member. They belonged together, but she simply didn’t remember. At times, the desire to sweep her into his arms and hold her forever was just too overwhelming, and he had to get away from her as fast as he could. Other times, it was the helplessness turning into anger, that made him run off without explanation before he could say or do anything he’d definitely regret afterwards.

There were no words to describe how terribly he missed her. From the minute he woke up in the morning to the moment he crawled into his cold, empty bed at night. The nights were the worst. He yearned for her warm, delightful body nestled against him so comfortingly. And it wasn’t even the sex he missed most. It was the closeness, the tenderness, the intimacy. Of course, he’d been alone in his bed, dreaming about her more often than he cared to remember during her first year aboard, too. But it was so much worse now that he knew what it was like to be with her. How good they were together.

What probably hurt most, though, was the fact that he couldn’t discuss any of this with her, couldn’t share this burden with her, couldn’t depend on her optimism and draw comfort from her unconditional support. He’d got so used to telling her about everything on his mind, including medical matters way beyond her expertise. And even though she might often not have been able to make any scientific recommendations, just talking about things usually helped.

But he was truly alone in this now. After months of convincing himself that it was okay to drop his shields and let someone in again, to trust and rely on someone once more, he was back to where he’d always known he belonged, yet had hoped never to find himself again. Alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny was feeling better and stronger with every day that passed. She loved her work, feeling immensely proud that her plan to focus on her studies and career had obviously worked out so well. Rank of lieutenant, head of her own, if small, department, and all that within five years of waking up to a completely different world and time.

The thought that she’d just come out of another coma, sleep, stasis, whatever it had been, with no real idea of how long she’d been out, was, of course, still a little unsettling. But for some reason she had this total, instinctive trust in Dr. McCoy, and, frankly, couldn’t see any reason why he, or any of the others, should have been lying to her. Not to forget his genuine shock and concern, when he’d found out that she didn’t remember him.

Besides, she’d definitely heard of Captain James T. Kirk and the Enterprise during her Academy years. And the captain looked exactly like the holos she’d seen of him, so she really couldn’t have been asleep that long.

The Enterprise.

Jenny still couldn’t believe that she’d not only been cleared for starship duty, but had even made it to the Fleet’s flagship. Beside her work, she loved everything about the Enterprise. All the activities she engaged in in her free time, the band and dancing mostly, of course, but, above all, really, she liked the crew. Jenny might only begin to know them again, but they already felt like friends.

The doctor was still her favourite. Maybe because he’d been there when she’d first woken up, and had so kindly and caringly looked after her ever since. Or simply because he’d been the one to take her in his arms, and she just couldn’t forget how wonderful his warm embrace had felt. Jenny was also aware that he was still dedicating a lot of his free time to doing research on amnesia, for which she was immensely grateful, and which sent a warm feeling to her stomach every time she thought about it.

McCoy knew how vulnerable she felt, with who knew how many of her memories still missing, maybe even lost forever, and his protectiveness was just what she needed. Although the doctor’s mood swings seemed to have become more frequent recently, and she sometimes got the impression that he was actually angry with her.

One moment he was kind and fun, seeming to enjoy their conversation, and looking at her with a tenderness that went straight to her heart, and the next, he couldn’t get away fast enough, suddenly seeming angry, or maybe disappointed, with her. And she had no idea why.

She’d even tried to talk to him about it, outright asked if she’d done anything to annoy him, if there was some disagreement between them she didn’t remember, some unfinished business. But he’d just brushed it off as something she imagined while actually getting mad at the question, only to touch the gentlest hand to her face, tenderly caressing her cheek and looking deeply into her eyes the next moment.

Maybe the obligation he felt, as her doctor, to look after her was getting too much, and he was fed up with playing the babysitter. Or maybe she’d been too obvious, he’d noticed how incredibly drawn she felt to him and just didn’t want to lead her on. Just because she loved to be near him, didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted that, too.

Perhaps she should stop taking up so much of his time and spend more time with her other friends instead. Relieve him a little of babysitting duty. The strange thing was just that, whenever she did, McCoy still seemed to hover somewhere nearby, not quite able to stop watching over her.

Anyways, she really wanted to keep focused on her career, no matter how often she might dream of the doctor’s arms and smile. She’d be going on her first landing party soon, and she couldn’t wait. All Jenny had to do was pass a physical exam before then, and she truly hoped that McCoy would let her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“You can get dressed again, love,” McCoy smiled at Hope when he’d finished his examination, perching on the edge of the nearby computer desk and skimming through the results of her blood tests.

He just couldn’t stop calling her ‘love’, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind, simply taking it as his way of talking. Like he called other patients ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’.

When he looked up from his display again, however, Hope still hadn’t moved and just kept staring at him, sort of expectantly. Then the penny dropped. She was waiting for him to leave, or at least turn around, while she took off the medical gown and changed back into her uniform.

“I’ll be back in a minute to talk about your results,” he mumbled, making a quick exit and sitting down heavily at the desk in his office next door.

He’d simply forgotten. But this was the woman he knew inside out, as intimately as you could know anyone. He was familiar with every one of her birthmarks, knew what every single inch of her skin felt like, hell, even tasted like. He knew how to make her melt under his touch, how beautiful she looked when she was in the throes of passion. How to rub her back to make her purr with pleasure and where to tickle her to make her squeal and giggle. And now he had to leave the room while she got changed.

McCoy rested his head in his hands, wondering how much more he could take. He loved Hope more than anything else in the world, and always would. But the hurt was just overwhelming, and he could feel himself approaching breaking point. Sitting with her before she’d woken from her coma, he’d believed to be prepared for anything, happy to stay by her side and care for her no matter what. Determined to deal with whatever physical and/or mental handicap she might have been left with, making sure that she got all the love and care she needed, never leaving her side. But that wasn’t possible now. He was forced to keep his distance. Give her privacy. Take care of her from afar.

And in less than a week, she’d be on her first assignment joining a landing party again. De facto her first, as far as she was concerned. McCoy remembered only too well how nervous she’d been on her actual first assignment. And how dangerous it had turned out despite starting off as completely harmless. Well, if Jim wanted her to go, he’d have to let the doctor join the landing party, too. There was no other way McCoy was going to clear Hope for this assignment.

Chapter 37

When Dr. McCoy returned some minutes later, he seemed frazzled, and Jenny’s heart went out to him and whoever had been unfortunate enough to cross him in the short time he’d been away. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with her results, since the doctor, although rather distractedly, told her that she was in excellent health and could certainly join the landing party after he’d cleared a few details with Captain Kirk.

Seeing her relief and joy at the good news, McCoy even managed a smile, but Jenny sensed that his mind was already elsewhere. So she just quickly thanked him and all but skipped out of sickbay, heading straight for the gym, where she was meeting Chekov for one of their dancing units.

Leaning back against the back panel of the turbolift, she couldn’t believe how much she’d just enjoyed her physical, smiling at the thought that she was probably the only crew member who did. But opportunities to be near the doctor were rare these days, and she’d relished every gentle touch, not caring that they had just been part of the examination.

Having the doctor stand so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body had given her goose bumps, and, ridiculous as it sounded, she thought he smelled so nice. Jenny didn’t know why, maybe her dad had used a similar aftershave or something, but Dr. McCoy, even with the ever-present waft of antiseptic, somehow smelled like home.

After her dancing session with Chekov, where Pavel had once again left no doubt about his feelings for her, Jenny indulged in a real-water shower to celebrate her excellent test results, exhilarated at the prospect of joining her first – at least to her memory – landing party. Later, in bed, thinking about Chekov’s eagerness, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might actually have reciprocated his feelings before her coma.

Pavel was certainly a brilliant and attractive young man, although she somehow always thought of him as more of a boy. He was kind and fun, and would undoubtedly be a good match as far as rank and age were concerned. She was also pretty sure that he’d make a really attentive boyfriend, but she just couldn’t see them together. Not unless being in his arms while dancing could make her feel the way she had in McCoy’s arms.

Oh God, can’t I even finish a single thought without the doctor invading it? she grumbled to herself, feeling her heart skip a beat just at the idea of dancing with McCoy.

No, there was no way she could see Pavel as anything but a friend. She’d have to find the right moment to tell him that, even if it hurt him and meant that he didn’t want to continue their dancing sessions. But she definitely didn’t want to lead him on. Maybe that was precisely the pickle McCoy found himself in with her, Jenny thought despondently. That he liked her, but just not in that way.

Trying to shift her thoughts away from the doctor and her non-existent love life, Jenny tried to recapitulate all the information she’d gathered about herself so far, concerning those last two missing years. McCoy – God, here he was again – had encouraged everyone aboard to tell her as many facts about the past two years as they wanted, in the hope that something might trigger her memories, but at the same time had instructed the crew to really stick to the facts, and not to foist any private suspicions, based on guesswork and gossip, on her, especially concerning her personal life. If they wanted her to truly remember, feeding her false information would certainly not be helpful.

There had, of course, been a few personal things that people had let slip nevertheless, but nothing that really seemed of relevance to her. As for the facts, Jenny had so far learned that, to her great astonishment, she’d worked in sickbay – although that might explain why the doctor knew her so well, had been on a dangerous first mission from which she’d returned with a broken ankle after saving the captain’s life – a little exaggerated, surely – and also Peterson’s from security before that – definitely exaggerated.

She’d further been told that she’d been on the Lexington for six months, and had headed her own department of linguistics ever since her return. That her and Uhura’s gigs with the band were legendary, and, her favourite, that she was reportedly good friends with at least half the crew.

Chekov had told her of their many dancing shows, giggling about how McCoy used to freak out over their Rock’n’Roll acrobatics, and that she’d saved Christmas for several crewmates by preparing surprise presents for anyone who would have gone without otherwise. All with Pavel’s help of course. Apparently, she had even once performed field surgery on him, which she’d taken for one of Chekov’s less tasteful jokes at first, but which McCoy had later confirmed with a soft, almost emotional look in his eyes.

Uhura had been the one to fill her in on all the little things, like what her favourite replicated food was – chicken salad sandwich, the one McCoy had got her after he’d taken her off the drip, which song she’d loved to perform most – To Make You Feel My Love, which had come as no surprise to her, but which, being a classic country song, quite obviously wasn’t one of Nyota’s favourites, that she’d become some sort of yoga guru on the Enterprise, and many more little facts like that.

Since Nyota was not only her best friend, but also without doubt the most communicative, Jenny kept pestering her about her pre-coma relationships, specifically her love life, wanting to know so badly if she’d been more than friends with anyone aboard. But so far, Uhura had remained annoyingly vague in that regard. She’d admitted to being under the impression that Jenny might actually have been in love, or something to that effect. Lots of words in intricate sentences full of question marks and maybes. She wouldn’t even hint at who she had in mind. It had never been more than a sneaking suspicion, anyway, Uhura had claimed, since Jenny had always adamantly denied it.

Closing her eyes with a groan, she tried to wrack her brains once more for some little memory, anything at all. She didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that those two years had not only been incredibly adventurous and career-furthering, but also very emotional. The thought that someone aboard might know her much more intimately than they let on, was, to say the least, unsettling, but also made her sad. If she’d been in love with someone, she really wanted to know.

When Uhura hadn’t been very forthcoming, Jenny had tried to approach the subject from a different angle, asking her if she knew of anyone who might have feelings for her.

But Nyota, seeing right through her, had just laughed and said, “Take your pick, sugar! There’s not a person aboard who’s not in love with you.”

“You mean it could be a woman, too?” Jenny had exclaimed, disheartened by the now even wider choice of possible ‘candidates’.

“Not that I know of, but, hell, yeah. Why not, I guess?” Uhura had chuckled, obviously pleased that she’d managed to confuse her friend even more.

After that conversation, Jenny’s mind had gone into overdrive, much to Nyota’s amusement. She’d considered Christine – no way, although the nurse was lovely, Peterson – he’d been extremely grateful, mentioning her saving his life several times, and finally had even straight out asked Uhura, if they’d been in love.

Nyota had doubled over with laughter at that, assuring her that, although they’d been very close and she loved her dearly, there had never been anything remotely romantic between them.

“Don’t let this drive you crazy, Jenny, you’ll figure it out in the end,” her friend had said at last, and then cryptically added, “As far as I can tell, you’re already on the right track, anyway. Just keep following your heart and everything will be fine. No need to rush into anything, either. If it is who I think it is, he’ll stick around.”

Back to ‘he’, then, well at least that was something. Follow her heart? Uhura’s advice kept haunting her. Who had Nyota been talking about? There was only one person her heart really wanted to follow. But there was no way Uhura could know about him, was there?

Looking at the time, Jenny realised that she had to go to sleep quickly, if she didn’t want to show up for her shift like a zombie the next day. Closing her eyes, she pictured all the possible ‘candidates’ one more time, thinking how much easier things would be, if McCoy were actually an option.

Well, a girl could dream.

But seriously, she thought, how sad would it be, if there really had been someone, and she didn’t remember being in love with them, especially, if the feeling had been mutual. If only she could find out who it was, maybe she could learn to love them again?

-x-x-x-x-x-

Chekov was in seventh heaven. They’d put in a dancing unit almost every evening, and not once, since she’d woken from her coma, had Hope mentioned loving him like a brother. In fact, she’d actually flirted with him, something she’d never done before. Not even in the beginning, when he’d still thought he could win her heart. No, she’d always been very clear about not having any romantic feelings for him, but now things were different, and it really felt like a second chance to him.

Along with the rest of the crew, Pavel had been quite sure that Hope was actually with Dr. McCoy, and, although the thought hurt like hell, he’d accepted it as a fact. But as long as they were still dancing together, there’d always been a tiny spark of hope in his heart, that she might, one day, realise that she was madly in love with him, after all.

Maybe that day had arrived? He wouldn’t want to get in the doctor’s way, of course, but assuming him and Hope to be an item must have been a mistake after all. Honestly, even suffering from amnesia, you’d surely remember who you were in love with, wouldn’t you? No, this was his big chance, and he was going to grab it with both hands. He was going to woo Hope like she’d never been wooed before.

But perhaps he’d still have a little talk with the doctor before making a complete fool of himself. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. He’d go and see McCoy first thing tomorrow.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy was surprised to see Chekov nervously pacing outside his office, obviously trying to summon up the courage to come in. What could the young Russian want to talk to him about that got him so flustered?

“Come in already, Chekov,” McCoy grumbled amicably, grabbing the surprised man’s arm and pulling him inside, “you’re going to ruin my floor if you keep running in circles like that.”

Returning to his desk and sitting down in his chair, the doctor looked at Chekov expectantly, motioning for him to sit down as well, but the young man just stood there, nervously twiddling his fingers.

“I need to talk to you about Jenny. Hope, I mean,” Chekov suddenly blurted, catching McCoy completely off guard.

Good thing the doctor was already sitting down.

“What about her?” McCoy asked, immediately getting his hackles up and looking at the young man through narrowed eyes.

“You know, I’ve always thought Jenny is an amazing woman,” the Russian continued hesitantly.

Tell me something I don’t know, the doctor thought, piqued.

“But she’s never been interested in me so far. Romantically, I mean.”

“And now she is?” the doctor snapped, feeling his heart beating faster.

What was Chekov getting at?

“I don’t know,” the other man stammered, visibly losing heart, “but she hasn’t mentioned feeling for me like for a brother once since she woke up. And I think she’s … flirting with me.”

McCoy wanted to throttle him.

“Why are you telling me this, Chekov?” the doctor asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Because I need to be sure that you’re okay with this, before...” Pavel murmured, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

“Before what?” McCoy barked, leaning forward in his chair and fixing the other man with his eyes.

“Before I ask her out for, I don’t know, dinner, maybe?” Chekov’s voice was barely a whisper now.

“And why wouldn’t I be okay with that?” the doctor asked gruffly, leaning back again and trying to unclench his fists.

It wasn’t Chekov’s fault that Hope didn’t remember their love, was it?

“Well, to be honest, I’ve always thought that you and Jenny...” the young man’s voice trailed away.

“That we what?” McCoy pressed on.

He wanted to make him spell it out. Even if his heartache wasn’t Chekov’s fault, the doctor wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

“Er … that you were more than just friends?” Pavel offered awkwardly.

McCoy snorted, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in his stomach. He had to bring this absurd conversation to an end and get rid of Chekov quickly, before he lost his temper.

“You don’t need my permission, Chekov,” the doctor said, an icy tone underlying his display of composure, “Hope is free to do as she pleases, or do you think she’d flirt with you, if she were with anyone else?”

The young man shook his head sheepishly, and McCoy found that, despite all his hurt, he couldn’t stand the thought of Hope being considered as anything less than decent and loyal.

“Just maybe take it slow,” he suggested, surprising himself by how much like fatherly advice this sounded, “Hope might still recover her memory, and you wouldn’t want to be involved too deeply, if she finds out that there’s been someone else all along.”

It was true, there was still hope.

And to take the focus away from himself as well as plant some doubt in Chekov’s mind, not something he felt particularly proud of, of course, McCoy nastily added, “You don’t know, there might even be someone on the Lexington waiting for her.”

Chapter 38

When the door had closed behind a subdued Chekov, McCoy grabbed his favourite coffee mug and flung it forcefully against the wall, satisfied to watch it shatter into a thousand little pieces. Then he slumped in his chair and took a little box out of one of his desk drawers. Opening the box, he looked forlornly at the delicate, dolphin-shaped ring in there.

They’d had to remove all jewellery, fighting to bring Hope back that fateful day she’d sacrificed her life. And his. He’d meant to return the ring with all of Hope’s other things from his quarters, but then somehow hadn’t been able to let go of it. It was a token of their love, a tiny reminder of what had once been, and she didn’t even remember having it, anyway.

Can’t really blame Chekov for trying, McCoy thought, feeling the rage and despair slowly seeping out of his body, leaving plenty of room for hopeless grief in their stead.

Anyone in their right mind would, if there was a chance to gain Hope’s affection, wouldn’t they? And at least the kid had had the decency to ask.

He couldn’t blame Hope either. She didn’t remember, and he was being increasingly distant with her, while Chekov wasn’t. He’d always thought they’d make a nice pair, anyway. Hope needed affection, and Chekov certainly wasn’t a bad choice. With McCoy out of the picture, he could actually see her falling for the young Russian. The doctor slumped even further down in his chair. And there he’d thought he’d already hit rock bottom.

Still tenderly holding Hope’s ring in his fingers, McCoy was startled out of his thoughts by Kirk’s cheerful voice, as the captain stuck his head around the door to his office.

“You wanted to talk to me about Hope and the landing party?” Jim asked brightly, stopping abruptly when he saw his friend’s obvious misery.

“What’s the matter, Bones? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” the captain went on as soon as the doors had hissed shut behind him, stepping towards the desk and sitting down in the chair across from McCoy.

“Chekov was just here,” the doctor murmured so low that Kirk could hardly hear him, “practically asking my permission to date Hope. And who could blame him... “

“Bones!” the captain cut him short, “You can’t just give her up without a fight! You really need to tell her!”

“I can’t, Jim!” McCoy groaned, lifting doleful eyes to Jim’s. “Don’t you see? I can’t force a relationship on her, dammit! I can’t make her love me! I’m just a man she barely knows, a man she has no feelings for.”

“You don’t know that, do you?” Kirk argued, his voice soft now.

The doctor just rolled his eyes and quietly said, “All I really want is for her to be happy, Jim.”

“Then court her, Bones! Surely you still know how to do that? Tell her how you feel! Start anew! You’ve won her heart once, you can do it again!”

The captain was getting exasperated.

“Can’t do that, either,” McCoy sighed. “I’m her doctor and her superior.”

“Technically, you were that before, too,” Jim pointed out. “Even more so, when she was still working in sickbay.”

“That was different,” the doctor argued. “We’d known each other for a year until I gave in to my feelings. And by then, even I could see how much she loved me. I don’t see that now. And I can’t make her. She’s free to choose whoever she wants. Maybe it’s even better that way. I’ve always felt she deserved better.”

“You don’t mean that,” Kirk huffed, shaking his head. “You know just as well as I do how perfect you are for each other. Hope couldn’t find anyone better. And she deserves a chance to have that again. Don’t you think? Much as I like Chekov, you and Hope were made for each other. Anyone who’s ever seen you together knows that.”

“What was it again you came here for, Jim?” McCoy changed the subject, putting the ring back in its box and returning it to its place in the drawer.

He just couldn’t keep discussing this now, he needed to clear his head first, needed some time alone to think everything Jim had just said through.

“The landing party,” Kirk replied, respecting his friend’s wish to move on with their conversation. For now, at least.

“Oh, yes,” the doctor said, sighing when he realised that this was still about Hope, after all. “Jenny’s in top form again. Physically. But with the issue of amnesia still hanging in the air, I’ll only let her go on that assignment, if you let me come, too.”

“Sure,” the captain replied without hesitation, getting up to leave and smirking at McCoy’s disbelieving look at how easily Kirk had agreed. “Another day, another chance! I had planned on letting you tag along, anyway.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

The doctor was still staring after his friend, when Hope tentatively knocked on his door.

“Need anything?” McCoy asked dismissively, immediately regretting sounding so gruff.

It wasn’t her fault he could hardly look at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but after talking to Chekov, he just couldn’t help feeling betrayed.

“Sorry,” Hope said in a small voice, “if this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

She looked so lost, that the doctor’s heart went out to her, any bad feelings instantly forgotten. If Hope had come here looking for help, he couldn’t just turn her away.

“What can I do for you, Hope?” he said, much more warmly this time, getting up from his desk and crossing the room towards where she was still standing in the door.

“I … I don’t know, really, I … just came to see you, it’s nothing important, sorry, Doctor,” she stammered, spinning around to slip out the door again.

“Don’t go, please stay,” McCoy exclaimed, quickly grasping her arm to keep her from leaving. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m just having a difficult time for various reasons, but you can always come to me, if you need something, or even just because you feel like it.”

The doctor’s heart beat a little faster, thinking that Hope’s subconscious still guided her to him.

“I’m sorry to hear about your difficulties,” she smiled shyly at him, looking down at his hand still on her arm. “Is there anything I can do for you? If you want to talk, I’m a good listener.”

“I know, Hope,” McCoy smiled back at her, taking his hand away again. “You always have been, but thanks, not this time.”

If only she knew how badly he wanted to talk to her, tell her everything and hear her say that it was going to be fine.

“But it was you, who came to me,” the doctor reminded her gently. “So, how can I help?”

“I’m not sure, really,” she said, bemused, “I just came here, because …”

“Because?” McCoy prompted softly.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t seem to remember why I came here,” she admitted sheepishly, and he could see her eyes suddenly turning anxious. “Do you think there’s something else wrong with my brain, Doctor?”

“No, love,” McCoy tried to reassure her. “The results of your physical were excellent. We all forget things sometimes.”

They were still standing in the doorway, and the doctor beckoned her a little further inside, so that the doors would slide shut behind her. He didn’t feel like continuing their conversation at his desk, though. Standing here, so close to her, was just too delightful.

“It doesn’t even feel like I’ve forgotten the reason,” Hope said, sounding puzzled. “I don’t think I had one in the first place. It’s more like I wanted to come, because… maybe I like sickbay and loved working here?”

“You remember?” McCoy felt new hope rising inside him.

“No,” she sighed, looking crestfallen, “but I do feel comfortable here, so I guessed...”

She shrugged, and McCoy tilted his head encouragingly, sensing that there was still more she wanted to tell him.

“Oh, Doctor,” she looked straight at him, the words suddenly pouring out of her, “I know I said it’s only two years, and what’s that in the grand scheme of things. And you told me I was lucky and that I should be grateful. And I am, I really am. Things could be so much worse. But this not knowing everything about myself is driving me crazy. These gaps in my memories are scary. Does that make any sense? Don’t ask me why, but I really feel that something significant has happened in those two years, that I’m missing something … momentous.”

For a moment, McCoy was dumbstruck, with no idea how to answer. He could see it clearly now. The missing two years not only meant that she didn’t remember their love. She’d also been robbed of all the experiences that had turned her into the confident, self-assured woman she’d become. As it were, she seemed more like the insecure girl she’d been when he’d first come to know her.

She’d always been strong, very capable and mature in her work and her attitude, but emotionally, she’d come a long way in those two years, had done a lot of growing up. He’d loved the shy girl, too, of course, but he only realised now how much he missed, and needed, this amazing woman, who had returned to him from the Lexington, by his side.

“Doctor, I feel afraid. Will I ever remember?” Hope broke into his thoughts.

“Well, physically, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” the doctor replied, trying hard to keep his voice steady. “There’s still a chance, just give it time.”

Looking at the woman before him, gazing at him with pleading eyes and clearly expecting him to pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat, McCoy had to briefly close his eyes to get his emotions back under control.

Screw impeccable conduct, he thought.

Hope was scared, and she needed him now. She needed warmth and reassurance and security. And she’d come to him of all people looking for it. Not to Chekov or anyone else, but to him. The least he could do was comfort her.

This time, he didn’t even ask, but just opened his arms for her, and when Hope instantly stepped into his embrace, closed them firmly around her again. McCoy held her tight, and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist. A little shyly at first, but then she just nestled into his arms, as if she’d always been there. She wasn’t even crying, she just needed to be held. And suddenly, everything seemed all right with the world again.

Even though she still didn’t remember, and maybe never would, right now, a new start for them didn’t seem as unthinkable as it had only minutes ago. That she’d instinctively come to him with her fears, meant that there was still hope. He’d just be there for her, give her time to get to know him again. Falling in love had been wonderful the first time around, and maybe Jim was right. Maybe she would fall in love with him again.

And if, no, when she did, he could tell her all about those two years. She’d treasured all of their memories, delighted in reminiscing about their time together, but what she’d always enjoyed most, was him telling ‘their story’. Hope could never get enough of hearing him tell her all about how he’d fallen in love with her. Head over heels that first evening in the mess, and then a little further every day. She’d certainly love hearing all that again.

Chapter 39

Jenny buried her face in the doctor’s chest, inhaling his comforting scent and relishing being wrapped in his protective embrace. She’d been longing to be this close to him again for weeks, and it felt just wonderful. To think that only minutes ago, she’d been feeling scared, alone, lost. And McCoy’s tender arms had taken all those feelings away, just like that, and replaced them with warm comfort. This was exactly what she’d been dreaming about every night. And right now, the doctor’s arms felt like the safest place in the world.

She’d been thinking about her life, her future, afraid that those missing years would come back to haunt her, not just privately, but that they might even endanger her career. Heading a department full of older, experienced scientists, when she felt like a mere cadet, barely graduated, was proving more intimidating than she’d anticipated. And all the stories about her, that people kept telling her, all those tall tales about this strong, admirable woman who was a complete stranger to her, put an almost crushing pressure to perform on her.

So, she’d done what she always did when she felt troubled or insecure. She’d come to sickbay. As if sickbay held all the answers. But she couldn’t help it, she just felt incredibly comfortable around the place and had already found herself ending up here numerous times, when she’d actually just been aimlessly wandering around the ship, lost in thought. Drawn to the place, or possibly the doctor, not just figuratively, but also literally.

Why was she so attracted to McCoy, anyway? He was older, he was moody and irascible, and yet, he was always so gentle with her. Like now. He’d been less than welcoming when she’d knocked on his door earlier, her embarrassment growing even worse when she hadn’t been able to explain what she’d actually come to sickbay for, afraid that she was starting to forget even the most recent events as well. But when he’d seen her distress, he’d gone from gruff to soft in the blink of an eye, as if all those layers of grumpiness had just fallen away to reveal his true, caring nature.

Opening his arms for her, holding her so tenderly, so protectively, had seemed to come naturally to him. Jenny might not always know where she stood with the doctor, his stressful job probably the main reason for his frequent crabbiness, those layers of grouchy irritation a protective shield against all the pain and despair he was confronted with on a daily basis, so it wouldn’t get in the way of his medical efficiency and break him emotionally. But she was absolutely certain that he’d always be there if she was in real trouble. If anyone was in real trouble, she corrected herself quickly. He was kind like that.

Even standing here like this, their arms around each other like lovers, she had to stay aware of the fact that she was really no one special to him, just another patient, another crew member. No matter how much she wished this could be more, he was not interested in her that way. She was just someone he felt protective about. Probably because he had a daughter nearly the same age, as she’d learned from Uhura only this morning over breakfast. Jenny remembered that particular conversation vividly.

“You’re sometimes too sweet for your own good, Jenny,” Uhura had said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head indulgently. “Not long ago, you even sacrificed your ticket for shore leave on the galaxy’s hottest recreation planet, so that Dr. McCoy could meet his daughter there.”

“McCoy has a daughter?” Jenny had been completely taken aback.

“Yes, he does. Joanna. Although he doesn’t get to see her often. He’s divorced. And Joanna’s almost your age, by the way.”

Oh!

That had certainly been an eye-opener. If McCoy had a daughter around the same age, that was probably why he felt so protective about her. And if she’d given him the chance to see Joanna on shore leave, he was surely grateful, too. Jenny could hardly believe how much that information had hurt, but it had, of course, explained why the doctor would never have a romantic interest in her, someone young enough to be his daughter.

Well, she could still enjoy his company. And stay in his arms as long as he let her, now that she’d finally got another chance to be close to him. Nothing had changed, really. At least not as far as he was concerned. And hadn’t the security she felt when she was with him, his protectiveness, been what had drawn her to him in the first place? She could still relish that. Yes, she’d be more than content with his friendship, if it even was that.

Despite never wanting this heavenly moment to end, Jenny found herself pulling out of the embrace after a while. McCoy hadn’t given any indication that he wanted her to, but with her arms so intimately around his waist, she suddenly felt shy again. It felt all wrong, and yet so incredibly right. Well, the way she was clinging to him, he’d hardly have the heart to push her away anytime soon. No, she had to let go first. It was certainly what he expected and patiently waited for. And she really didn’t want to test the limits of his patience.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Jenny smiled, pulling back and shivering against the sudden cold, as the doctor slowly let his hands slide down her arms before letting go completely, as if he wanted to make sure she was steady on her feet again. “Thank you.”

Or maybe he needed to steady himself? He’d seemed almost reluctant to let her go, too. But that was just wishful thinking.

“My pleasure, love,” McCoy drawled, his adorable accent suddenly thick, and the tenderness in his eyes, as he gazed at her, melting her heart. “You all right?”

“Better than all right,” she beamed, feeling elated, her body still glowing from his closeness and his tender touch. “This was just what I needed.”

The words were out before she realised what she was saying, and she could instantly feel the colour rising to her cheeks. The kindness he was showing her was clearly going to her head. But McCoy’s affectionate gaze never faltered.

“Told you I knew you well,” he smiled, his words sending shivers down her spine, and while she was still trying to figure out whether to feel soothed or excited, he added, “Unfortunately, I need to prepare for my next patient now, but how about having coffee with me this evening, and then we can talk some more?”

Jenny’s heart was hammering so loudly in her chest, she was afraid the doctor might hear it. She’d really missed their coffee evenings, which, for some reason, had ended abruptly several weeks ago.

“I’d like that,” she finally managed to reply, taking a couple of steps back and hearing the sliding doors hiss open behind her. “Since I used to work with you, and you said yourself that you know me well, maybe you can even tell me something about myself that Christine and Nyota haven’t yet?”

“I just might,” McCoy nodded, his voice soft and warm, his sparkling eyes following Jenny as she practically danced out of his office.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Going to see McCoy had been a mistake, Chekov thought morosely, looking past the pretty ensign from engineering, who was making eyes at him, to where Hope and McCoy were sitting in a cosy corner of the observation deck, looking as in love as they always had. It was just like before Jenny’s coma, only that it hurt so much more today, because he’d really thought he was in with a chance. Jenny had definitely been behaving differently towards him these last few weeks.

But talking to the doctor about her had been a silly idea. All he’d done was probably just remind McCoy not to let Hope slip through his fingers. Only a few hours ago, the doctor had told him to be careful and take it slow, and now he was flirting with Hope himself. Why the two of them weren’t together in the first place, was beyond him. Watching them, it was perfectly clear that they wanted each other. And why would anyone in their right mind not want Jenny, when they could so obviously have her?

But maybe it was only really her who was in love with him? Maybe the doctor just needed his ego massaged? Or even worse, just wanted her flawless body in his bed? Chekov was appalled at the very idea, feeling outraged just looking at McCoy seductively smiling at Jenny.

Granted, he didn’t actually believe that taking advantage of a woman was something the doctor would do. But his divorce had made him bitter, and he’d definitely once or twice mentioned avoiding commitment ever since. Chekov had certainly never seen McCoy in a serious relationship. And come to think of it, he’d only ever seen the doctor charm and flirt with women on shore leave, or when they were guests on the Enterprise.

Oh! There’s a thought!

Maybe that was the reason? Maybe McCoy didn’t get involved with anyone from the crew? But then, why keep Hope from finding love with anyone else? Surely, even the doctor must see how affectionate and giving Hope was. And that she needed and deserved to be truly loved and treasured in return.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy hadn’t felt that good in ages. Seeing Hope so relaxed, so cheerful again, was balm to his soul. He really shouldn’t have withdrawn from her. She’d told him all about her fears, and he felt extremely guilty for not having been there for her sooner. For letting his own hurt get in the way of supporting her when she’d so desperately needed him. He’d been so busy nursing his own heartache, that he’d completely ignored that Hope might have fears of her own, simply assuming she’d be all right, not knowing what she was missing, anyway.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen again. Seeing her worries dissolve and her confidence return as they talked, made his heart swell with love and happiness. They’d always been good at reassuring and comforting each other. Nothing seemed to have changed there. Hope still chose him to confide in, trusted him to help her fix things. The realisation sent a surge of humble gratitude through him, and he made a silent promise not to fail her again.

Over the course of the evening, McCoy told her endless stories about her time in sickbay and their missions, and Hope soaked up every word. He couldn’t tell her how every little thing she’d done had made him fall crazy in love with her, of course. Didn’t mention anything about shore leave, or the night she’d spent in his arms in a cave on a mission before that. But he could tell her all about the wonderful things she’d done, from taking care of children to saving people’s lives, and let her know that he admired her for all of that.

Perhaps he’d been wrong in his assessment not to interfere with her memories. Considering that she might never actually recover those two years, maybe it was okay to give her more than just the facts. Maybe telling her of his feelings about certain events, or even whether she’d liked or enjoyed something herself, was all right. And judging from the delight on her face and the eagerness with which she kept asking for ever more details, it certainly was.

Hope had always been endearingly sentimental and loved trips down memory lane. And from the way her eyes were gleaming now, he could tell that she was enjoying herself immensely, listening to him telling her stories about things she didn’t remember. Maybe this was their new way of reminiscing, at least until they’d made new, real memories together.

When they were almost the only ones left on the observation deck, McCoy gently suggested that it was time to go to bed, and the happy mood was a little subdued when they had to go their separate ways, each to their own quarters. McCoy didn’t even dare to ‘walk her home’, as he would have loved to do, for fear of being too obvious. And afraid of not being able to simply say good night outside her quarters, of losing control and doing something stupid like kiss her. Baby steps, he told himself.

They arranged another ‘date’ for the next day, however, the doctor asking her to come see him in sickbay after her shift, since he wanted to check, and maybe update her medical knowledge a little before the landing mission the day after. Hope readily agreed, and McCoy was almost certain to see her eyes light up at the prospect of spending another evening with him.

That night, for the first time since Hope had fallen into a coma, McCoy’s bed didn’t seem as cold as it had for the past few weeks. The memory of holding her only hours before sent the warmest feelings through him. He’d had to be careful not to crush her in his eagerness to be as close to her as he possibly could, and If she hadn’t pulled away, he might not have been able to let her go at all.

As he was drifting off to sleep, smiling at the image of Hope’s animated face in his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder, if she might, somehow, be thinking about him, too, right now.

Chapter 40

After a very restful night, full of sweet and tender dreams, Jenny started her shift with a happy smile on her face. After everything she’d learned about herself the evening before, she felt much more confident in her role as department head again. The doctor certainly knew how to boost someone’s confidence. She still couldn’t actually remember any of it, but McCoy had described things so vividly, and in such detail, she almost felt as if she’d actually been there. The way he’d talked about her and her experiences hadn’t felt like mere stories, but like something she would actually feel or do.

Obviously, he wasn’t exaggerating, when he told me that he knows me well, she thought fondly, the realisation making her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

But last evening had turned out even better than she’d hoped for in more ways than one. McCoy might not have had hearts in his eyes, but he clearly cared for her and had put a lot of thought and research in how to help her since she’d woken up. And the tenderness in his smile and in his voice, when he’d shared his memories of her, the endless patience with which he’d answered all of her questions, had convinced her that she couldn’t have been the reason for his recurring mood swings, after all.

Her colleagues in the linguistic department seemed to sense her shift of mind, too. They’d been incredibly supportive from the day she’d returned to duty after her coma, but today, the atmosphere was buzzing with new energy, as they prepared for the upcoming landing mission.

She didn’t know about her people skills, for which McCoy had been praising her last night, but she’d certainly always loved to be and work with people. And the doctor had definitely been right, when he’d told her that she was greatly respected and appreciated by her colleagues.

The best thing about today, however, was that she’d get to spend the evening, or at least part of it, with McCoy again. On official business, of course, but she still couldn’t wait to see him again after her shift.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Entering sickbay only minutes after alpha-shift had ended, Jenny couldn’t keep the eager grin from her face, hoping the doctor wouldn’t attribute her enthusiasm to her desire to be around him, but rather to her looking forward to brushing up on her medical skills.

“The doctor’s already waiting for you in his office,” Christine greeted her with a nod towards the open door.

“Thanks, Christine!” Jenny replied, hurrying by, then stopped in her tracks, when she saw her friend’s knowing smile.

“What?” she laughed, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Chapel.

“Nothing,” Christine shook her head, “it’s just good to have things back to normal.”

When it became clear that the nurse wasn’t offering any further explanation, Jenny continued on her way, making a mental note to grill her friend about this some more later.

The doctor, it seemed, had indeed been waiting for her, since he’d already prepared a few medical instruments on his desk, and also put the training dummy, in what looked like a rather painful position, right in the middle of his office floor.

“Hello, Hope,” McCoy greeted her with an easy smile, then pointed towards the dummy and grinned, “and right on time, too. Can’t wait to get your hands on my poor friend here, can you?”

“He looks quite a mess,” Jenny giggled. “Whatever happened to the guy?”

“Well, that’s for you to find out, my dear,” the doctor chuckled. “I hope you can help him. Let’s see, if you’ve still got it!”

Jenny felt her heart beat faster. What was she supposed to do now? She briefly closed her eyes, unsure where to start. But then, looking back at the dummy, she just let her body take over, her brain following right after, as suddenly every move, every step of the procedure was coming back to her.

She could feel McCoy’s watchful eyes on her while she was working away, and it should have made her feel nervous. But, surprisingly, all it did was give her a warm, glowing feeling inside.

When she was done, the dummy safely recuperating on the doctor’s couch, Jenny looked expectantly at McCoy, and was rewarded with an appreciative nod and a thumbs-up.

“Your medical knowledge is definitely still there,” the doctor smiled. “What you did was way more than your standard first aid training would provide. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you!” Jenny beamed, unable to suppress a little victorious squeal, and raising her hand for a high-five. “I remember it all. That’s amazing!”

She was just about to drop her hand again, realising that it wasn’t really a 23rd century thing to do, when McCoy clapped his hand against hers with a wide grin on his face, the move seeming so natural, as if it were something he did every day.

I’ve quite obviously taught the crew some old traditions, Jenny thought amusedly.

“Come over here, now, Hope,” the doctor beckoned her over to his desk, “look at these instruments and tell me everything you know about them.”

It was easy. And to see her delight at finding all the knowledge still there mirrored in McCoy’s eyes, made her heart brim over with pride and joy.

“So, if this is still all there in my subconscious, then there’s still hope for my other memories, too, right?” Jenny raised hopeful eyes to McCoy’s.

“Well, yes! Considering that you remembered all the linguistic stuff, too, it sure is,” the doctor smiled encouragingly at her.

“Oh, the ‘linguistic stuff’ is not that surprising, really. I can rarely tell what information I’ve acquired during those last two years and what I’ve already known before, anyway. But this,” she waved her hand around the doctor’s office, “I really didn’t know anything about. Well, apart from the mere basics, of course.”

McCoy was beaming at her with such affection as she rambled on, overwhelmed by happiness, that Jenny wanted to throw herself into his arms right there and then.

“And if I remember all this, it’s still possible for me to regain my other memories as well, isn’t it?” she needed to check one more time.

“Yes, it is,” the doctor replied softly, and all of a sudden, Jenny didn’t know what to do with all the hopeful joy she was feeling.

How could she have known that her recovering all of her memories didn’t mean half as much to her as it did to him?

“Time for another hug?” McCoy suddenly asked, obviously sensing that her emotions were bubbling over.

This time she didn’t even wait for him to open his arms, and just flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh Doctor, I’m going to remember everything, I just know it!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against his shirt, feeling his chuckles vibrating in his chest, as he closed his arms tightly around her waist.

“I’ve missed this,” McCoy laughed affectionately, clutching her to him, “this … ebullience.”

Jenny pulled back again, releasing the doctor and grinning sheepishly. She couldn’t make a habit of falling into his arms and just staying there. But even this short hug had felt like a little piece of heaven.

“Sorry Doctor,” she apologised, taking two steps back and straightening out her uniform, “I didn’t mean to be so forward, but I’m just having such a good day.”

McCoy perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his smiling eyes never leaving her face.

“So you’ve had a good day today?” he grinned in this adorable way that lit up his whole face and made you wonder how he ever managed to look grumpy at all.

“A very good one,” Jenny confirmed. “Thanks to you.”

“Me?” he asked, taken aback. “What did I do?”

Jenny couldn’t help laughing at the genuine confusion on his face.

“Yes, you,” she repeated quietly. “You have no idea how much last evening meant to me. You’ve helped me so much, and I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to tell me all those little details about myself, for restoring my confidence in myself. I feel so much better now, and I’m sure my whole department does, too. Which is really a good thing, given that we’re going planetside tomorrow.”

McCoy just looked at her, his kind eyes searching her face, but for what, she had no idea.

Just as Jenny was starting to feel a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he finally asked, “Nervous about tomorrow?”

Jenny just shrugged. Of course, she was.

“No need to be,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “You’ll do great.”

“Was I nervous before my actual first assignment?”

“A little,” the doctor smiled, tilting his head to the side and gazing warmly at her.

“I’m glad you’re coming, too. I feel safer when you’re around,” Jenny murmured, immediately hating how immature and insecure she sounded, but McCoy’s gaze just softened even more.

“Happy to hear that,” he replied, “but you’d be perfectly fine on you own, too.”

“Says the man who’s constantly kept an eye on me since the moment I woke up,” she chuckled, her heart melting, as she thought about how he’d always managed to show up somewhere close by, even after one of his mood swings had had him run off in a hurry shortly before.

“That obvious, huh?” McCoy grinned self-consciously, shaking his head slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Jenny said quickly, not wanting him to feel bad about caring. “It gives me security, I like it.”

Then she suddenly remembered him being a father.

“Have you always been looking out for me?” she asked, wishing she could just reach out and touch him. “I mean, even before?”

McCoy just tilted his head again, which she took as a yes.

“And did I not like it then?”

Jenny was curious now. Surely, she’d have appreciated someone trying to keep her safe?

“Maybe not all the time,” the doctor chuckled, looking at her almost lovingly. “You’re quite a strong and capable lady. But you know that, of course.”

Jenny smiled and shook her head. When had this conversation become so intimate? She suddenly felt as if she knew the doctor. Really knew him. They’d definitely been close before. That’s probably what Christine had meant earlier, it suddenly occurred to her.

McCoy really liked her, she could feel it. And come to think about it, he did sometimes act like an overprotective father. The only question was, had she seen him as a father-figure before? Or had she always had this silly crush on him? She might never know, she realised. And she could just as easily have been in love with Chekov or anyone else, and not remember it.

Blasted amnesia!

“Am I different than before?” she suddenly blurted.

McCoy looked at her pensively for a long time, a tender smile on his lips. He had this gift for making people feel special when he talked to them, for showing them they mattered. The way he listened so attentively, carefully thinking about his answers, completely focused on whoever he was talking to, as if there were no place he’d rather be. Jenny had observed this numerous times, both professionally in sickbay and privately in the mess or recreation room. And she certainly enjoyed it, whenever she was being the centre of his attention. Like now.

“Not really,” the doctor said after a while. “A little less confident, maybe, since some or your experience is missing. In a way, you’re more like the woman you were when you first came aboard the Enterprise. An endearing trace of shyness and insecurity underneath all that strength and sass. But other than that, you’re completely the same. Brave, kind and brilliant.”

Jenny’s heart was threatening to spill over at his words, his approval suddenly seeming the most important thing in the world.

“But you don’t have to worry, love,” he went on, her heart skipping a beat like it did every time he called her ‘love’, even though she knew he was very generous with terms of endearment when talking to patients. “Even if you don’t get all of the last two years back, and I still think there’s a great chance you will, you’ll soon grow to be the person, you were only a few weeks ago, again. And going on that mission tomorrow is a first step.”

While Jenny was still processing everything the doctor had just said, he glanced at the chronometer, then put a gentle hand to the small of her back and smilingly steered her towards the door.

“Speaking of which,” he grinned, as the doors slid shut behind them, “I think it’s time to grab something to eat and then go rest up for tomorrow!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Continue to: Chapters 41-45 Chapters 46-50 Chapters 51-55 Chapters 56-60 Chapters 61-65 Chapters 66-70 Chapter 71

Go back to: Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10 Chapters 11-15 Chapters 16-20 Chapters 21-25 Chapters 26-30 Chapters 31-35

Or read it on AO3: Another Life

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

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pigballoon · 4 years

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The Personal History of David Copperfield

(Armando Iannucci, 2020)

Adapting novels for the screen is always hard. Harder still when the novel you're adapting is long, and as sprawling and detailed as the original Chuck D's David Copperfield, and surely borderline impossible if you're going to try and fit the whole thing into a little over an hour and a half.

As his follow up to The Death of Stalin, Armando Iannucci attempts the trick even New Jersey’s David Copperfield may have balked at. To me the one flaw in Iannucci's grand design, the one aspect of the adaptation he can't entirely work around, and thus the one distinct and sort of undeniable flaw of his movie is that in being based on a book concerned with a group of individuals in trying circumstances leading complicated lives, he simply doesn't have the screen time in which to really flesh the shades of these individuals out to make this the work of complexity it probably should be, and most disappointingly of all fails to really, truly get under the skin of the question that the story opens on, of whether David Copperfield is the hero of his own story.

Still, even if Iannucci's movie fails to get all of the detail of Dickens work down (it's unlikely any movie could) it succeeds on its own terms as being a damn fine movie anyway. It's sort of hard to believe it is only its directors third feature, so startling is the leap forward in creativity from the already terrific Death of Stalin. The aforementioned criticism of the movies lack of properly fleshed out characters (and it really is basically my only criticism of the film) is offset to a degree by the genuinely flawless ensemble assembled who from top to bottom do a bang up job in bringing these characters to life and finding in whatever few scenes that they get a way to bring a taste of just what they are all about.

It's cinema's shorthand, the way you get around the fact that you can't go on for a dozen pages describing the inner workings of a characters mind. If you find yourself an actor capable of realizing some of that detail in a glance, or the way they deliver a line, then you are already on your way to understanding the economic power of the medium, and Iannucci, always a tremendous director of actors, has found a whole host of them. Chief among the getting a lot out of a little brigade must be Rosalind Eleazar, Gwendoline Christie, Darren Boyd, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Aneurin Barnard, Anna Maxwell Martin.

The likes of Victor McGuire, Peter Singh, the great Peter Capaldi and Paul Whitehouse, Lynn Hunter, Bronagh Gallagher, Daisy May Cooper and the marvelous Benedict Wong all vividly etch themselves into the memory, some in a single scene, others across many, but each with that inimitable Dickensian rogues gallery, salt of the earth flavour. Morfydd Clark is wonderfully distinct in her cleverly cast dual role, and finds pathos in the midst of the broad comic purpose she serves in the movies second half. Jairaj Varsani impresses with his maturity as a young David, and most importantly matches the same sort of energy as Dev Patel at the centre of it all. For anyone impressed beyond belief at his Oscar nominated work in Lion (I wasn't) this is something on a whole other level. Not only does he manage the trick of making the sometimes wayward, abrasive titular character likeable enough to want to share in his experience, but greater still is his physicality, watching him move on screen is a delight in itself in all his gangly wonder, the stars of the silent era (to which the movie briefly pays tribute) would be proud.

Perhaps greatest of all are the holy triumvirate of Tilda Swinton, Hugh Laurie, and Ben Whishaw. In Whishaw's Uriah Heep the great tragedy of the movies shortcomings is most embodied, a character who could easily deserve his own story, is here left to Whishaw to elevate beyond the villainous, and he is triumphant, equally vivid in his gnarled physicality, he is the dark to Patel's light, and the two of them are magic together. Speaking of, Swinton and Laurie might be a movie double team for the ages, him the straight as an arrow, dry as a date maypole for her, the mad may queen, to dance around. The little moments of dramatic, empathetic seriousness they get to mix in among the comic hijinks, brilliantly, quietly executed as only great ones can pull off.

Yet for all the rambling I have done about them, the magic of the movie for me, what carries it so far beyond Iannucci's previous movies, and all the wonderful small screen work he's done is the visual. For whatever simplification his Personal History is guilty of in putting Dickens' characters down on the page, his confidence and ingenuity as a filmmaker is ever growing. He uses a stage set framing device to drop us into, and carry us out of this world, backdrop stage curtains, and film camera footage projected on walls all lend the movie just the right amount of artificiality to make it just the right amount of clear that you ain’t reading a book, you’re watching a movie.

He rips this great work of literature from the page and makes it very specific to this medium, it’s not a lazy, dry transfer from book to screen, and for that we should be thankful. His transforming of the thing into broad, farcical, almost slapstick comedy is a risk, it plays to Iannucci’s strengths, but for me it worked, it leaves the thing half way between the work of its original author and its cinematic translator, the best of both worlds, and for me its a blast of an experience that manages to find the heart and the darkness in amongst the madness as its writer/director always manages. It’s what adaptations to screen should always strive to be, original and inventive, but still finding the heart and soul of their source.

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lastbluetardis · 5 years

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Chemical Potential (1/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~2100 words, all ages

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange. I’m so sorry this is so late, but the holidays were a little more insane than I’d anticipated. I hope you enjoy chapter one of your gift! I’m not sure how long this will be, but I’m hoping to write a little bit of it per week and share that week’s progress with you.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

Rose shoved the graded exam into her school bag, not caring about crumpling it, before she slung her bag over her shoulder and half-ran out of the lecture hall. The circled red 47% on the exam was still burned into her eyes, making her chest constrict and her stomach bottom out.

47%. Failing. She’d just failed the first exam of the semester, just like she’d failed the first quiz of the semester.

Hot tears stung at her eyes and she blindly pushed past all of the students in the corridor until she reached the ladies’ room. There were a few other people in the loo—upperclassmen, it looked like—and they all looked at her sympathetically before she entered one of the stalls and slammed the door shut.

Her head pounded with her anger and frustration. She’d tried so hard—so hard—and it still hadn’t been enough. Chemistry simply did not make a lick of sense to her, and she hated herself for signing up for the stupid class in the first place.

But she needed a science credit, and she figured she would get it out of the way before she had progressed through her program and into the more difficult classes. After all, she’d thought, how difficult could a general chemistry class be?

Very, it turned out. She wished she could drop the class, but if she did, she no longer had enough credits to be considered a full-time student, and without that status, she would lose all of her financial aid. She couldn’t stay at the university without her scholarships. And she was beyond the add/drop period, meaning she couldn’t replace her general chemistry class with something else.

So, unless she wanted to completely drop out of school, she was stuck.

Unbidden, her ex-boyfriend’s words cropped into her mind, telling her she never should have tried to go to uni in the first place. That she should have stuck to what she was good at (which wasn’t school—hence her dropping out when she was seventeen) and not reached above her station. That she should have stayed with him, stayed working in that little London shop, stayed his. His trophy that he paraded around when it suited him, and leaving her alone in their tiny one-bedroom flat when it didn’t.

She knew she was lucky to be shot of him—the lying, cheating bastard—but maybe she had reached too far. Been too lofty in her goals. Her mother had certainly thought so.

After Rose had moved back home with Jackie when her relationship with Jimmy had utterly imploded, she’d worked at the department store, Henrik’s, for three years, saving up her money and finishing her A-levels. When she’d begun applying to universities, she’d applied to a few in the United States on a whim. Her childhood mate had moved there the year before when his job had relocated him, and he loved it.

Rose hadn’t told her mother about the American schools she’d applied to, figuring nothing would come of it. But when she’d received not only an acceptance letter but a full academic scholarship to a school in southeastern Pennsylvania, she knew her decision had been made for her.

Jackie had not been as thrilled as Rose. Rose knew her mother wished she would just be happy with her job and settle down to start looking to make a family, but that wasn’t what Rose wanted. Even though three years had passed since the Jimmy fiasco, Rose had sworn off relationships until she was happy with where her life was headed.

Rose mostly ignored her mother’s diatribe about airs and graces and moving too far away and how Jackie wouldn’t be there to bail her out again should everything fall apart. Instead, she’d mailed in her acceptance to the Pennsylvanian university, and had begun the preparations for moving across the Atlantic.

Now, though, as she stifled her sobs into the palms of her hands, Rose thought she may have made a huge mistake by going to a university in America. She hardly knew anybody, apart from the few acquaintances she’d made in her classes. She didn’t live in the dormitories on campus, so she didn’t even have the typical friendships that came with living in close proximity.

And if she failed out of university, not only would her student visa be revoked, but she wasn’t currently able to afford a plane ticket back to the UK, and would be stuck in a foreign country until she saved up enough from her part-time job.

Though her mother frustrated her beyond belief, Rose found herself more homesick than she’d ever been before, and she wished she could teleport to her mum’s flat and cry that she regretted leaving home.

She was about to prove everybody right that she wasn’t cut out for a life of academia, just because she couldn’t pass a bloody general science course.

Rose’s eyes ached, but finally her tears stopped. She sniffed hard through her clogged nose and was glad that the girls in the loo had departed by the time Rose finally stepped out of the stall. She didn’t need that added embarrassment to her already fragile state of mind.

Her face was a wreck, with her mascara bleeding down her red, blotchy cheeks. Rose turned on the faucet and washed her hands, then cupped cold water in her palms and splashed her face. The water stung her skin, but it made Rose feel a little more invigorated than before.

She spent the next several minutes scrubbing off her ruined makeup and giving her eyes a minute to look less red and puffy. Finally, when she was satisfied that it wasn’t overly obvious she’d been crying for the past five minutes, Rose took a deep breath and stepped out of the loo.

Someone was standing just outside the door. A tall, lanky boy with a messy shock of brown hair was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom. He must be waiting for someone… but the loo had been empty, apart from her. Perhaps she should tell him?

She looked into his face, and furrowed her brow. It was the boy who sat in the row in front of her in her chemistry class.

“Er… hi,” he said a little awkwardly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked up onto his toes, then back onto his heels. “I’m James. James Smith.”

Rose’s heart squeezed as she recognized his accent: soft Estuary. It reminded her so much of home that she had to clench her teeth to stop more tears from welling into her eyes.

“Hi,” she said, her voice a little raspy. “I’m Rose Tyler.”

His face lit up into the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen. Sheer delight radiated out of every inch of his face, from the too-wide, too-white flash of teeth, to the way the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled. His eyes sparkled, looking so warm and inviting that Rose desperately wished she had her sketch pad with her. No matter. She tried to commit every shade of brown in his eyes to memory so she could try to draw it later that evening when she got back to her flat.

“You’re a Londoner!” he crowed, beaming. Rose felt her own lips twitching in a responding smile as his voice went high and squeaky in excitement. “Oh, brilliant! I haven’t met a Londoner yet! I met a woman from France in my French class—though that’s cheating, in my opinion. Why can she take French for credit when she’s literally French? And I’ve met loads of people from all over the United States, including someone from Alaska! But you’re the first human I’ve met from the good ole UK! I love it!”

Rose’s smile widened and became more genuine the longer James rambled. He made her feel as though they’d known each other for years and were best mates reconnecting after a time apart. The ache of sadness began to fade from her chest and belly, and she wished she could thank him, even if he didn’t realize he’d done anything.

“Nice to meet you, Rose!” James yanked his right hand from his pocket and extended it towards her. Rose saw the red crease from where the top of his pocket had pressed into his skin.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said, wishing she could tell him just how nice it was.

She reached out and took his offered hand. His palm was warm and soft against hers as she wrapped her hand around his.

“Ooh, your hands are cold,” he said.

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could withdraw her hand from his grip, his other hand cupped hers, trapping it between his palms. He rubbed her hand vigorously, warming her skin. If it had been any other person, Rose would have been deeply uncomfortable. Hell, she probably should have been deeply uncomfortably anyway. But there was just… there was something about James. Something she couldn’t put her finger on that made her feel so safe and at ease with him, despite having met him only two minutes ago.

“Can’t neglect the other one.”

Rose bit her lip against a laugh as James dropped her right hand to scoop up her left one. He warmed that one, too, then released it. Rose let it fall limply to her side, then looked up at James.

“If you’re waiting for someone, I’m afraid the loo was empty ‘cept for me,” Rose said gently.

James furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. Then his eyes widened slightly and he said, “Oh! No, thanks, but I, er… I was actually waiting for you.”

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, suddenly more suspicious of James than she’d been in the last few minutes. His cheeks went pink and he gave her a shy, sheepish smile as his hand went up to rake through his hair.

Well, at least that answered her question as to whether he’d intentionally styled his hair to look as though he just rolled out of bed. Or as though he’d just had the most fantastic snog of his life.

“Er, you see… I’m in your chemistry class. With Professor Young,” he said. His hand moved from his hair to scratch at the back of his head, before he rubbed his fingers against the nape of his neck.

Bit twitchy, ain’t he? He ought to lay off the caffeine, Rose thought to herself.

But instead, she said, “Yeah, I know. You sit in the row in front of me.”

His face lit up in a surprised albeit pleased smile. It disappeared slowly until his face was serious again.

“I, er, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little upset,” he said quietly.

Rose pursed her lips, trying to push down her embarrassment. “I’m fine. Exam didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, is all.”

James nodded, a short jerky bob of his head, and seemed to be entranced with watching the toe of his trainer scuff against the shiny tile floor. It made a sharp squealing sound every time he kicked his foot; the noise grated against Rose’s frayed nerves.

“Would you stop that?” she snapped. His body stiffened, and he planted his foot firmly on the floor. Rose sighed and pressed her fingertips into her closed eyes. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m not in the best mood right now.”

“That’s all right,” he said immediately. They were silent for a few uncomfortable seconds in which Rose debated just running away from him when he asked, “Have you had breakfast?”

Rose snapped her gaze back up to his face. He didn’t seem bothered by her rapid changes in mood, and he’d begun rocking on his feet again in lieu of scuffing his Chucks against the floor.

“Well, it’s already ten,” Rose said. James’s cheeks went pink again, much to her amusement. She’d never seen someone blush so easily. “But no, I haven’t.”

James grinned. “C’mon! Let’s go to the dining hall. It’s pancake day and they stop serving breakfast at ten-thirty.”

He held out his hand for her, wiggling his fingers in invitation, but his face looked solemn and vulnerable, as though he wasn’t sure whether she would accept his invitation. Rose wondered what he would do or say if she declined, but a small voice in the back of her mind was confident he would let her go and leave her alone.

But she didn’t want to be alone. Not when she finally seemed to make a new friend, one that could maybe relate to her homesickness, and one that made her feel as though everything would always be okay in the world.

“Yeah, all right,” she said, and she slapped her palm down into his awaiting hand.

His eyes widened, as though he hadn’t really expected her to agree, but his mouth slowly morphed into a wide, manic grin.

“Brilliant!”

He threaded their fingers together. The feel of his hand in hers felt so right, so perfect, and she gave his hand a squeeze of thanks. He giggled from high in his throat and returned the action before he guided her to the door.

#thegreenfairy13 #dwsecretsanta #ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #(<-- I can't remember when we're starting our hiatus #ignore if we're already on it)#doctor who #ten x rose #au #ten x rose au #university au #my fic #chemical potential

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kinsbin · 5 years

Text

Wake Up Call

Title: Wake Up Call Ship: Alexys/Bishiop[Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 2187 Summary: Alexys and Bishop realize their feelings for one another one night while babyspitting for Ripley. Romance neuses

A/N: A commission for @space-sweetheart!

She had grown used to waking up alone for so long.

The silence of the small apartment ate away at her like a parasite. Alexys shivered at the cold that it had brought along with it, the emptiness of the room making it feel ten times bigger than it truly was. How a small apartment could feel so incredibly open yet incredibly claustrophobic all at once was beyond her, but, it managed somehow. It was one of the many reasons she didn’t particularly like being there, despite her preference for the solitude of areas less busy than the outside world. Even she might brave it for open air and easier breathing over a cramped space that was just so...much.

The ringing of her comm device brought her out of the soreness of her thoughts. Alexys picked up the communication hub and answered the call once she registered the name on its purchase. A smile broke out against her face at the sight of her best friend, her hair curled adorably against her neck and her smile infectious as she waved through the video chat that had popped out.

“Good morning, Ripley.” Alexys chirped happily.

“Morning? Its 1pm.” Ripley snorted with a raise of her eyebrow, making Alexys sputter and shrug with a sheepish grin.

“I stayed up a bit later than I thought I was going to, I admit.”

“You’re sleep schedule is just going to get worse if you don’t fix it sooner than later.” Ripley’s motherly worry was so evident in her tone of voice that it was almost comedical. Alexys waved her off in turn, giving a hefty shrug and hum in response before retorting.

“Okay MOM.”

“Don’t say that I feel old,” Ripley pulled a face, “Though I guess I am...ANYWAYS. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still up for babysitting Newt and Bishop tonight.”

A familiar voice faded into the background, muffled protests of ‘I’m not the one being babysat’ filling the room. Bishop popped into screen long enough to give Ripley a disapproving frown before looking back on the screen. Alexys felt a blush of delight fill her cheeks as she gave the android an awkward wave. Bishop only smiled and gave a wave back before exiting the frame once again to give the two privacy. A breath of relief exhaled itself from Alexys’ lungs when he left, and Ripley could only give her best friend a knowing look of amusement.

Alexys saw the look and shot one warning back to the other woman, who only held up her hands and laughed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it.”

“I might have. You don’t make your feelings subtle, is all.”

“I knowwww,” Alexys groaned and fell back onto her bed with a huff, “He just makes it hard.”

“You two make a fine couple, stop being so unsure of yourself,” Ripley teased over the comms, “But We’ll see you in a couple hours either way.”

“Yeah, you will. Go get ready for big date night, you crazy gal.” Alexys grinned and gave Ripley a thumbs up, who returned it and ended the communication. Alexys sat in the silence of her room once again, goosebumps running up her spine, but, significantly decreased from the heat of her cheeks after seeing Bishop. A long moment seemed to pass before she finally stood to start getting ready. The Ripley’s would be waiting for her, after all.

A moment of deciding what she was wearing followed by a quick breakfast and relaxing time on the internet proved effective in helping Alexys wake up enough. The energy she garnered helped her to rise from her room and exit towards the Ripley’s home in the nearby neighborhood, a short walking distance that brought the family together far easier than anyway else. Alexys fondly remembered snowy walks to their home on Christmas and hot walks on the way to summer barbeques. Each memory filled her with nostalgia as she moved through the now even-temperature spring day.

Her arrival was prompt at their household, the doorbell held for only a few moments before it swung open. Bishop’s face greeted her, wide-eyed at first and then slowly breaking out into a smile as he gave her an appreciative nod. Alexys tried to push away the flush of her cheeks as she smiled back at him and gave a returning nod of greeting.

“Hey, Bishop,” She hummed, “Ready for a fun night with Newt and me?”

“I always am, aren’t I?” He murmured in return, bowing out of her way so that she could enter the home. She did, soft ‘thank-you’ leaving her lips as the sound of Ripley rushing up to her to embrace her in a hug filled her ears for a moment. Alexys laughed and returned the hug, pulling away to see her best friend’s smiling face.

“Hey,” The other greeted, “I really appreciate you coming.”

“You appreciate me each time,” Alexys teased, “And each time, I tell you, It’s nothing. I love coming here and being with your family! It’s great.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Ripley laughed, “Lord knows these date nights do us a world of good.”

“Speaking of which,” Hick’s voice echoed from nearby, “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going!”

“Oh, right,” Ripley sighed, “I’m sorry I didn’t give us much time to catch up before we head out.”

“We’ll catch up when you get home then.” Alexys assured, “Now go have fun with your man.”

“And you with yours.” Ripley winked, causing Alexys to splutter and her face to redden, the other’s teasing clearly getting to her as she grinned mischievously. Ripley was all too aware of the feelings Alexys harbored for their household android and best friend, and was all too happy to push Alexys on about it. As a woman who went after what she wanted, she always wanted to encourage others to do the same after all. Even if it meant kissing an android. If it was what she wanted, then damn if Ripley wouldn’t be a supportive friend.

As Ripley turned to head out, she waved at Alexys and winked again, making the other roll her eyes as the door closed. Soon, she was left alone with Newt in the other room and Bishop at her side, his head tilted curiously at her as she took a deep breath.

“Hi, Alexys.” Newt’s head appeared from around the corner, her smile almost as soft as her mother’s. It made Alexys’ heart melt as she approached the girl to give her an additional hug. Bishop watched the scene, a smile playing on the edges of his artificial lips, yet, he said nothing to interrupt the entirety of it as the two humans pulled away from one another.

“You ready to have fun tonight?” Alexys questioned with a brush of her hair behind her ears.

Newt nodded vigorously, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she began to list her interests for the night. Alexys and Bishop listened with equal intensity, nodding at correct points and humming when an acknowledgement was necessary. Luckily for them, Newt knew that what they could do was limited. A simple request to watch her favorite movie series and order some pizza was an easy enough task for the two watching her. A polite girl above all else, Alexys couldn’t help but see the resemblance of Ripley in her despite them not being related. Perhaps certain types of people simply attracted one another.

The night went on as the girl had requested, movie and pizza going on into the night until she fell asleep between Bishop and Alexys with a bowl of popcorn hugged snugly in her hand. Alexys sighed with appreciation for the girl, brushing her wild hair behind her ears and slowly removing the popcorn bowl from her hand. She didn’t stir, even as Bishop scooped her up in his arms and began to carry her to bed. Alexys followed, both silent as not to wake the sleeping child, and she watched as Newt was lowered down into her bed and tucked in by the android before her. Alexys reached to help, moving another side of the covers without warning, but, Bishop’s hand had already been reaching for the covers as well.

His hand was strangely warm. The circuitry in it hot under her skin as their grips touched one another. Alexys looked up in surprise, only to see Bishop eyeing her with the same mixture of shock and amusement as he had earlier in the day as well. His smile was soft...his eyes even more so. Android or human, it didn’t matter much to Alexys, she thought he was handsome both inside and out. Such a thought crossing her mind made the accidental touch even more embarrassing as she pulled away with a soft chuckle.

Once they exited the room, the stairway was a short descent back into the living room. Yet, it felt uncomfortably long in the silence they walked in...until…

“Can I ask you something, Alexys?”

She turned to the android with wide eyes, “Uh, yes, of course! You can ask me anything, Bishop.”

He paused, thoughtfully, then continued in almost a whisper, “Androids and humans...do you think they’re capable of loving one another?”

A swath of silence echoed between them, chasamous in its creation as Alexys stared in awe at the being before her. He looked so meek and soft as he asked the question, vulnerable even. As if the answer would define his existence. There would have been an immense amount of pressure to figure out the answer, certainly, if she hadn’t already been so steadfast in her beliefs. The answer, instead, came without hesitation:

“Of course they are. Of course we are! What you're made of and what your blood is doesn’t mean anything when it comes to feelings and emotions, it's your ability to evolve and change. To see the world in the same light,” Alexys smiled, “It’s why I know I love you.”

The words fell from her lips before she could stop them, and she watched as Bishop’s eyes widened in what could only be genuine surprise.

“You...love me?”

“I-Imean!” Alexys sputtered out several efforts of making herself clear, hands fumbling as she tried to do so, “I mean like. Humans and robots and-! I mean it’s-! I-I’m sorry…”

She dipped her head low, shame gurgling in the pits of her stomach like an unknown virus as she tried to look anywhere but at Bishop himself. Another painful silence held stagnant between them, until she heard it. The sound of footsteps. Great, she thought with tears in her eyes, he was walking away. She had startled him to the point of him being unable to understand what was going on. He would leave her. Things would be weird now! It would-

A hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her reverie, making her look up to find Bishop incredibly close to her, his mouth pulled into a smile as he tilted his head and admired her face. Her cheeks warmed with a blush, as they were prone to do with him around.

“Why are you sorry? I asked because…” He seemed to take in a breath, “I love you too...after all.”

Alexys couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on her mouth, bringing another to Bishop’s as he laughed sheepishly. She couldn't help the joy that came with the hug she offered, tentative at first and then full of affection as she latched onto him tighter. He accepted her, his own arms wrapping around her to bring her close, face burying itself in her hair as he all but hauled her off the tips of her toes to show how much he cared. She loved it. It made her breathless with delight, her head spinning with awe that it was really happening.

When they pulled away, their noses were touching. Her breath ghosted across his lips and his body stood still, watching her face with a soft and inquisitive gaze.

When they connected again, they had brought their lips together. It was an electrifying kiss, one that filled her veins with adrenaline and joy as she clung to him again, the smile on both of their mouths shining through the kiss.

Android or not, he was her Bishop. She loved him all the same.

#kinley writes #self insert #self shipping #self ship #self insert writing #writing commission

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here-there-be-nerds · 6 years

Text

Single Dad Taako 6

( 0 ) ( 1 ) ( 1.5 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 ) ( 9 ) ( 10 ) ( 11 )

Thank you to all of you that suggested dates! I’ll be adding more in the next one.

___________________________________________________

While everything had been pretty settled during the quest the boy's ended up calling Crystal Kingdom for the obvious joke it turns out there were a few loose ends Kravitz wanted to go over. Taako was more than delighted to take on the task on meeting up with Kravitz. He wasn't a fool though, despite the stupid shit he got up to, he arranged to meet the reaper somewhere more public to control the scene lest things go south.

The Chug N' Squeeze was the big new thing that just opened up on the moon base where the Bureau of Balance did most of its business and its launching. This establishment was known for its fine wine selections and entertaining pottery classes. Have a drink, make a pot, have a fun night.

This is where Kravitz found himself awkwardly walking into, of all the places to meet Taako to discuss something that could potentially take the elf to the Astral Plane. Kravitz says potentially, but he had already discussed the case with the Raven Queen and she found it a sound mistake, she also said that Lady Istus explained the situation and cleared the matter. So really this was no longer necessary but...Kravitz found himself intrigued by Taako.

Kravitz found Taako easily enough and took a seat at the pottery wheel next to him as he greeted him. As he looked around the room he noticed all the stations were set in pairs and everyone in attendance seemed enamored with each other. They were all couples certainly.

"Hey homie~" Taako greeted as he sat down.

They both worked on pottery as they discussed the issues of Refuge, arguing the concept of the boy's being special edge cases and not just the run of the mill souls to worry over. Taako insisted on making a fine bowl despite the theme of the night being vases, it was incredibly endearing. The more they spoke the more Kravitz couldn't understand Taako.

"If you don't me asking, but why are you doing all this? Risking your life and putting yourself in known dangerous situations?" Kravitz asked.

"Because I'm afraid no one else would have me." Taako responded without missing a beat.

The phrasing haunting familiar to Kravitz in a way he wasn't prepared for, he felt like that was something he should recall with but couldn't place it. He was far too unnerved in the blatant honest, it was disarming.

"Wow." Kravitz said blindsided. "That was a very honest answer; I have to admit I'm a bit shocked."

"Well, I mean, it is the truth. And if I can't be honest in the...in the Chug N' Squeeze, where can I, my man?" Taako said with restrained laughter with how absurd that must sound.

They spoke more of personal things after that, Kravitz had even shared his dreams of when he was alive of being a conductor for an orchestra. Taako told a tale of how he had lived out his dreams of being a traveling celebrity chef for a few years but dodged when asked why he stopped.

During things Taako had slid his chair closer to Kravitz's station as he showed signs of struggling with his piece. Taako placed his hands over Kravitz’s, having to move behind him some and pressing against his shoulder.

"Ah, hatchi matchi, those are clammy." Taako said as he discovered the icy feel of the reaper’s skin, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised.

Taako noted how flustered Kravitz had become and smiled secretly to himself as he assisted in the shaping of Kravitz's vase. If he shared with the reaper a half lidded look that was rather sensual, well, that was how Taako do.

Taako giggled as Kravitz began to go skeletal in the middle of things and finally backed off, oh yes, this was going to be interesting.

That had been their first date, something to this day Kravitz had been thrown off by. Their second had been a more official affair that Taako allowed Kravitz to plan. The man did not disappoint.

While inter plane rift traveling was something that would be something to get used to it was the best way to find yourself literally anywhere.

Where Kravitz had taken him was breath taking to say the very least, it was a stunning lake that went on for miles that at first he thought it was the ocean. Kravitz couldn't have known this, but the beach had been a special thing for Taako, he and his family had spent an entire month out on the beach front because...well that was another story. So Taako's heart clenched pleasantly as he watched the sun sparkle like diamonds crashing against the shore.

Kravitz cool hand slipped into Taako's and it drew him out of himself as he saw a smile grace the reapers face. It felt like Taako was caught up in the waves the way Kravitz looked at him, like the man was seeing a sunset for the first time. It was like the world shifted as Kravitz lead Taako down the shore.

They abandoned the idea of wearing shoes in favor of holding them as they rolled up their pants and allowed the cold waters to wash over their feet. Taako was delighted to see buttoned up Kravitz in such a relaxed state.

The venture had lead them a good ways from where they had started, Taako didn't mind at all as he looped arms with Kravitz and they chatted through the journey. Taako had teased him relentlessly for being so cliché and loving how incredibly easy it was to fluster the Grim Reaper.

They came upon a blanket in the middle of the beach that was strewn with a simple picnic set up and a wine bottle set in a bucket of ice.

"What...did you really?" Taako asked as he turned to Kravitz.

"Too cliche again?" Kravitz asked, almost genuinely concerned.

"Well..." Taako leaned more into Kravitz as he looked over the blanket. "It’s classic for a reason, my dude, it's...sweet."

When they settled in and Kravitz served Taako up a plate he sheepishly admitted he hadn't made of it and actually had to find a vendor to pick it up from.

"I don't think I've been in a kitchen for a few decades and that was still for work." Kravitz said with a nervous laugh.

"No worries, can't all be five star chefs." Taako said as he took the plate of boneless chicken and sides of coleslaw and mashed potatoes. "Did you go to Fantasy KFC?" He snorted.

"No?" Kravitz said puzzled. "Would have you preferred that?"

"Hell no." Taako scrunched up hoax nose. "None for Taako, thanks. Nah, this does look much better, less greasy."

It wasn't half bad and the real treat was watching Kravitz try to figure out how to eat a drum stick. The man ended up using a fork and knife insisting he didn't want to get it all over his hands. Taako could hardly stifle his laughter despite his best efforts.

It had been a simple thing but it had Taako on cloud nine when he came home. Angus was probably in bed by now, grumpy that Taako had Barry and Lup watch him.

Taako sighed dreamily to himself, ignoring how silly it was to feel like this after just a few dates but after all the shit in his life? He felt he deserved some school kid gushing over the cute boy that actually wanted to keep seeing him. Kravitz was a sap, Taako could already see that. He was so cheesy but it was so attractive? He treated Taako like he hung the moon, it was hauntingly familiar but at the same time utterly unique.

Taako's ears flicked as he heard small sounds down the hall and he silently moved to catch Angus hiding in the hall.

"Ah!"

"Ah!" Taako mocked, rolling his eyes playfully. "What are you doing up, squirt?"

"I...I just wanted to make sure you were home." Angus stammered, flustered at being caught.

"Yea, just ol'Taako." Taako said, ruffling Angus' hair as he passed him on his way to his room. "Hit the hay, kiddo, its late."

"Okay..." Angus mumbled and it stopped Taako in mid reach for his door.

"You okay?" Taako asked looking back at the boy.

Angus shifted his weight from foot to foot; his gaze down and Taako realized he was wearing his glasses. He'd been up for a while.

"Sleep over?" Taako asked softly.

Angus nodded a little and went into his room to retrieve a pillow and joined Taako into his room.

"Did you have fun hangin with your nerdy aunt and uncle?" Taako asked as he started getting ready for bed and Angus got under the covers.

"Yes...but I don't need babysitters when you go out on missions and stuff." Angus huffed haughtily as he sunk under the covers. "I'm almost ten years old now, sir; I can take care of myself."

"You can barely reach the cupboards." Taako pointed out as his disappeared into the master bath to change into his pajamas.

"I...I have a stool!" Angus protested.

"Anges, it just makes /me/ feel better." Taako said as he came back out. "Knowing people who can reach the food are here."

Angus hid a smile under the covers, Taako may have had him a year and something now, but it always funny to watch the elf try to act like he didn't care about the little things. It was something Angus learned about quick and he saw right through it and it always made him really happy as strange as it was. Because it meant Taako /cared/ about /him/. It meant a lot, these moments.

Taako had swung some pretty baller tickets if he did say so himself~ It was actually something that had been a bit difficult and he had a bit of a time about it but Taako could be quite Charming when he wanted to be. It wasn't like that guy was gonna be there night of anyway.

It also gave him the perfect excuse to go all the fuck out wardrobe wise, he finally got to slip into that sleek navy gown that fit him like a glove, dust off his pearls and his finest heels.

A night at the opera, usually not Taako's thing, but Kravitz was going to lose his mind. They met at the theater and instantly Kravitz dropped his jaw, had he been in skeleton mode it literally would have fallen to the ground, Taako would have loved to see that.

"Ready babe?" Taako smirked pleased with himself beyond belief.

"I...you...wow." Kravitz swallowed, something Taako was sure wasn't something the reaper needed to do, but he had been picking up some mortal traits the longer he kept up a physical form. A form Taako dug.

"Yea, this ole thing." Taako unfurled his hand fan to cover his shit eating grin. "Bout time I got some use out of it."

"You...you look astounding." Kravitz breathed as he looked Taako in the eyes and it sent pleasant fluttering through the elf.

That wasn't something he was used to, his dates usually said things like that looking a little further south and the honesty of it had Taako resisting to squirm. What the fuck?

"Could say the same, but you always look killer." Taako snorted. "Maybe not the best turn of phrase, but works all the same."

Kravitz smiled as he chuckled and offered his arm which Taako graciously took.

"I had no idea you were interested in Riley Switz's work." Kravitz said as they made their way inside.

"Oh yea, for sure, he's totally the best, never go unless it's my dude Switz." Taako said as he pressed into Kravitz side.

"You've never heard of her have you?" Kravitz lifted a brow good-naturedly.

"I've never heard of them." Taako admitted, grinning slyly.

"You're in for a treat; she is a very talented composer." Kravitz said.

Kravitz went on and on about his favorite pieces by this whoever as they handed over their tickets and found their box. Yes, box, Taako didn't half ass a fancy ass date. Kravitz was ecstatic and the way his lit up at the view was worth the gold spent and how he jabbered on this that went straight over Taako's head made the elf bite his lip to keep smiling like a dope.

The show started and Kravitz took Taako's hand in his own and the cool touch was really starting to feel nice in his hands. Kravitz was like a child when he watched the opera unfold, getting to the edge of his seat at parts, covering his mouth at the dramatics, squeezing Taako's hand along with every emotional reaction.

It was stunning; Taako almost missed most of the performance because of the better show he had up here in the box they shared. Kravitz really was something else, always surprising him.

After the show, Kravitz was on another high of rambling as they went back down. So focused on discussing his favorite parts that he hadn't noticed that Taako had been leading him back stage.

"You wanna tell them that?" Taako asked as he jerked his head in the direction of the members of the orchestra that was finishing up packing their things.

Kravitz focused on where they were and gasped, unnecessary for a man that doesn't require to breathe. How could Taako get more of these reactions?

"I, we, what?" Kravitz sputtered.

"Got back stage access, baby~!" Taako bragged as he grinned.

Kravitz looked at Taako and the elf gripped his clutch bag tightly, he was looking at Taako like he had been the performance the whole time. Like he was the dazzling lights, the stunning costuming, the rise and fall of music perfectly executed. It was flooring to be so adored by a single person.

"You did all this...for me?" Kravitz asked astonished.

"Yea, it's whatever." Taako shifted his gaze, it was too much. "I know you like this music crap so I was like what the hell, y'know?"

Taako started as Kravitz took his hands despite the clutch in his way, squeezing gently and Taako looked at him. Breath taking, fuck, Kravitz was over the moon right now and Taako put that look on his face.

"Thank you." Kravitz said softly.

The words so simple so common, but Kravitz's eyes spoke volumes more. It swept Taako away in emotions he hadn't felt in years and also never at all. These were original and untainted. The reaper might as well have said the big three and maybe in a way he had?

"It's...n-nothin'." Taako stammered as he tried to maintain his aloof allure.

Kravitz's smile shifted into something more knowing and pleased. Well fuck.

They spent the rest of their time at the theatre speaking with the band members, Taako's arm lopped with Kravitz as the reaper asked question after question. When he wasn't asking he was complimenting them all like the huge nerd he was. It was a great night.

At the end of the night Kravitz dropped Taako off at the moon base dorm he was staying at for an upcoming mission, that and Taako hadn't wanted Angus to be uncomfortable with a stranger around the house. That was a different thing for a different time.

"I had...the most amazing time." Kravitz said as they stood outside of Taako's door, a strange formality for a man who can rip open rifts to anywhere.

"It was pretty bitchin'." Taako agreed, biting his lip as he looked into Kravitz's adoring eyes. "Let's do it again sometime?" Taako restrained himself from clenching his hands, shoving his insecurities off the side of the moon base.

"I'll try to live up to this level of entertainment." Kravitz joked without pause, no hesitation, already planning their next date in his head.

Taako relaxed and smoothed out the tension in his shoulders with a shrug.

"No worries, kemosabe, not everything can get up to the hype of a Taako event. Anything is chill." Taako said casually and it had been honest, Taako didn't need flare from Kravitz, just his company would be enough. Taako tried to ignore how sappy that was.

"Still, I already can't wait." Kravitz said as he stepped into Taako's personal space, looking flushed as he gazed into Taako's eyes, possibly his soul.

"May I? Uh, may I kiss you?" Kravitz asked so politely Taako wanted to laugh but he couldn't find it in him to do it.

"Yea, lay it on me." Taako blushed lightly despite his flippant response.

Kravitz didn't seem to mind, he didn't seem to mind so much about Taako. He seemed thrilled and delighted in the elf's very existence; it was something to get used to.

Kravitz placed a cool hand on Taako's hip and held them flush against each other as his other hand cupped Taako's cheek as if he was delicate fine china. Looked at him like he was a precious thing meant to be cared for and Taako was swept away and they hadn't even kissed yet!

Their lips meet in a softness Taako wasn't used to. Rough, sharp, with demanding hands handling him with the intention to break, hell yea; that was the usual for ol'Taako. But not Kravitz, he was so gentle in his affection as they slotted together, as if Taako was his prized possession that he took the upmost care of least it get damaged. Except...Kravitz would never think of Taako as a possession but a gift to be near, the way he kissed Taako, giving the elf every opportunity to pull away at any time.

It was so overwhelming that Taako had almost not noticed how cold Kravitz's lips were. Sure it was a bit weird at first, but he delighted in it, it was so Kravitz. When they parted Taako couldn't open his eyes for a few moments, he didn't even know where he was for a second.

"I...fuck." Taako sputtered as he opened his eyes to see that adoring face. "Like...damn. How were you ever single?"

Kravitz stared at him perplexed for a beat before laughing boisterous and unrestrained. Oh no, Taako was done for, for sure.

They shared another, shorter kiss before they parted for the night. Taako pressed his back against his door once he was inside.

Was it possible to fall in love this quickly? In this short of time? The one thing people in love rarely have enough of? Oh boy, he was in it now.

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Thanks for reading and hey....I love you guys.

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dia-sana · 6 years

Text

I will seek Spring if Winter intends to last

Pairing: Saeran/Unknown/Ray x MC Genre: Romance. Disclaimer: None. A/N: Are you my savior, dear Anon? I saw your request when I was on the 8th night (Fate!!!), I was so depressed because I cannot stand seeing Saeran in pain but you gave me an opportunity to write a happy ending and I feel slightly better ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ ♥

For some reason, he was back in her room. There was no point to it. It was useless and only made him depressed. Lazily, he dropped his body on the side of her bed. He was fully aware of what Ray used to do every time he came here, since she left. Laying in there, inhaling only what remained of her presence, drowning their memories in intractable tears as he tried to find out where everything went wrong, what he did that was worth corrosive agony… And Unknown was somehow curious. What was it like to scent her? He only knew what she was like thanks to his feeble mind mate and wondered how he would feel himself. He was pretty well aware of his beating heart longing for her and his mind going places he never went before. But was he that weak for her too? Hesitantly, he laid on her sheets and took her pillow closer. To his own surprise, the process revealed to be intoxicating, pleasant beyond state. This girl was something drastically special. His heart beating faster, he clenched on the submerged agitation he choked with. If she was able to make him feel this helpless without even being here, it would definitely be even more tremendous if he got to her. Therefore, now more than ever, he wanted to get her. Worship her so he could feel all those intense sensations with a much more stirring potency. She drove him crazier than he already was and how amusing this was for him to finally find something beautifully rousing in this world. Without much daze, he chuckled at her sudden phone call. Even if she may not have had any intention on coming back, she sure was addicted to him.

“I want to have you… No matter what. Didn’t Ray also say that?”

Getting the coordinates of their positions proved to be quite easy. The redhead was good but not as much as him or Ray. Hence, he only needed to distract Luciel with a weird coding pattern and stole his informations while he was busy looking away. Half an hour later, he was in his car, not giving any thought about Mint Eye or his savior. Ray may have been the most loyal person on this planet, Unknown knew what was important now. They both were perfectly conscious that they were used by Rika but the difference between them resided on the fact that Ray could not stand alone. Thinking about that, could Unknown really do it? Probably. He had that ache pinned to his chest but his mindset and projects were enough to drive him far even by himself. If it were for him, every damn problem Mint Eye had would have been resolved since long ago. At least, that was what he thought.

The clock indicated that it was past two in the morning and he pressed on the accelerator. He had to get to her before the redhead became suspicious or this dumbass would take annoying measures in order to keep her in his little impenetrable tower. His right hand tensed around the steering wheel while his left hand was hovering outside of his opened window, to feel the cold wind in a vain attempt at calming the everlasting irked storm in him. He recalled how much Mint Eye meant to him. How his savior saved his miserable life and gave him an opportunity to avenge for his injustice. But may it be him or Ray, something became slightly more important than this to them. Or more precisely, someone. They both saw how the savior grew attached to their precious tester. Who would not? The issue was that they knew she would keep her to herself if she could. Ray may have dumbly complied because of his puppy nature but Unknown could not let such thing happen. She was his. His favorite little toy had no other place than by his side. Thus, he wondered. It may have been possible that the only outcome available for them was to do what she asked to Ray on the phone some time ago. “Can we not run away together?”. That marshmallow should have agreed. What a fucking idiot. Nonetheless, it gave the opportunity to Unknown to be the one to shine in his doll’s eyes. If he was the one to rescue her and to satisfy her plead, she would desperately fall for him. More than for Ray. That pink gummy may be all sweet, but he was such a pain in the ass. Unknown was way more fun to be with.

It was past three when his car stationed in front of the cabin where the two traitors and her were. How delicate she was to be innocent enough to fall for their trap; he would have to keep an eye on her if he did not want to see her hurt in the future. Anyhow, he had already decided on detaining her in his line of sight. Problem solved. Stepping out of the driver seat, he approached the place slowly. They heard the engine for sure. In that sense, there was no need to be stealthy nor make a fuss. Would that redhead remembered him when he would see his face? Would he be tormented? He was not here for him now but he still hoped to see some pain taint his dumb face. He was not even close to the door when this one opened, his princess running towards him at full speed. Was it relief that he witnessed on her face just before she crashed against him for a hug? His hands hesitantly made their way to her back and hair, arms wrapping around her as he exhaled in solace. She was there. Right in front of him. Right in his arms. She was there.

- Ray, you came. I missed you so much.

He sneered before placing two fingers on her chin. Temptation was delicious as he noticed how the stars gave a soft tint to her lips. Still, he fairly jumped as she unexpectedly pressed them against his, leaving him like a breathless mess. He felt drowsy for a second but soon got grip of the situation and tightened his embrace before responding to her kiss with a feverish desire. Far in his head, he could hear Ray almost fainting partly of happiness, partly of jealousy. But, overall, they were both euphoric and Unknown, for once, could not care any less about what Ray was doing. When they broke the buss, he laughed once more with his devilish octaves, pretending his cheek were not invaded by a wide mist of pink as ha gave her an amused stare.

- You know that I am not Ray, right, little doll?

Again, she surprised him as she only smiled and kissed him a second time with much more tenderness. Only a peck that left him frustrated but aroused anyway.

- I figured what was your link with Ray already.

She stated her sentence with such cute pride, he could only melt on the inside. Which kind of disgusted him because Ray was doing the same and just nope. Leisurely, he took her wrists so he could free his neck and shoulders from her hug but kept her hands in his as he was afraid she would vanish again. He understood why Ray was such an emotional wreck every time they were together; this girl was something beyond this world. Lucky her for not being able to read all the things that crossed his mind as he thought about what they would do as soon as they would find shelter away from here. For a brief second, he looked away from her just to monitor their surroundings and that is when he saw Luciel. All the cheesy sparkling delight he felt disappeared instantly as they were hunted down by anger and turmoil. His arch enemy was at the doorway, grim devastation carved in every trait of his visage. Was Saeran really satisfied with that? He wished he could have proclaimed how happy this made him but something was odd, like an old memory he could not recall properly. In this instant, he could have reach out to him, ask for his help so he could flee with his love and hide or suggest that they stayed together, the three of them. Yet, that was not what he did nor what he believe he wanted. Eight years of convincing had made his beliefs harder than carbon and there was no coming back for now.

- Saeran… What are you doing here?

Finally, he spoke. His voice was merely a whisper in the night, a sound carried by the breeze of the early hours of the new day. But it still sounded oh-so painful and Saeran was confused at how much it seemed genuine. This was not the time for chatter and he frowned in aggravated resentment as his lips curved in his most menacing smirk.

- I am not here for you tonight, Luciel.

Saeran eyes softened to an astounding extend as he gazed back to his princess before whispering in her ear to go seat in his car. His command was muttered with tenderness but she could not miss the hazardous undertone hinting that she had no choice there. She did as she was told and Unknown watched closely until she was secured. There was no doubt that Luciel would intend on getting her back. However, that redhead was out of words, speechless. There was nothing he could do here as he was a prisoner of the situation they were in. Should he stop her or Saeran? He knew he could not encounter his brother but he had to protect his friend. What should he do? By the time he was anxiously trying to find a solution, Unknown was climbing back in his driver seat. His engine back to life, he drove to the front of the cabin, turning to the side and leaned closer to his girlfriend so Luciel could perfectly see both of them through her opened window. A laugh cracked the silence. She barely had the courage to look at the devastated Luciel while Unknown was having hysterical stomach cramps. Once he behaved out of his mania, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer while glancing at his enemy with jovial provocation.

- Do not worry Saeyoung, I will come back especially for you. For now, I have to take care of our princess.

He sniggered once more and drove out of the place as fast as possible, feeling his anxiety kicking where Ray was locked. After a few minutes, he glanced at his love and smiled. Ray was right, she was such a pretty girl. A porcelain doll he wanted to play with as soon as possible.

- Is Saeran your real name?

He tensed his fingers around the steering wheel as he heard the doomed syllables. No matter how much he hated that combination of sounds, he had to admit that he kind of liked them coming out of her delicate mouth. He only nodded and she seemed to think for a moment before looking back at him.

- Can I call you like that? At least when we are alone if this is a secret.

She was such a smart girl. He agreed and took her hand so he could kiss her knuckles before biting them playfully. Should they stop for a while? They were on a road in the middle of the woods and the sun had still some time before rising. Ray suggested that they needed to gain some distance but Unknown only wanted to make her his now. He needed to feel all his torturing thoughts being shut and replaced only by her exalting existence. He wanted to melt in her as soon as possible. Maybe she had noticed the unidentified impatience on his face because she caressed the back of hair before playing with a lock of pink hair and spoke with a calming voice.

- Let us create our own happiness, Saeran.

Happiness…? Yes, that had been the purpose of his new life for so long but he could not reach it so far. However, Saeran had the confidence that, now that she was here, they could truly make it real. Unknown chuckled and hastily pressed on the gas pedal. They needed distance, he was okay with that, but he could not wait any longer and was only pushing his patience beyond limits.

- You are such a good girl. Let me drive just a little bit further and I will give you a reward.

The sun finally rose in the horizon as Ray woke up from the best sleep he ever had. It took him a little while to comprehend why he was laying at the back of his car and to realize that his lover was resting on him. Great new habit of his, he almost blacked out from the huge amount of blood rushing to his face and choked with it, accidently waking her up in the process. She placed sleepy eyes on his redness and simply smiled as she greeted him with a loving kiss on the tip of his nose.

- Looks like Ray is back… Did you sleep well, Saeran?

Damn it, was he dreaming again? Was it one of his bothering dreams he had way too often? He made a weird panicked expression as he spluttered in embarrassment. Even worse, he almost released a high-pitched whimper as she chuckled and kissed his lips. She sat up straight on his hips, letting his jacket fall off her shoulders as she started putting her clothes back on and Ray scrambled to hide his eyes from the heady view he had. What a perv Unknown was! Damn it!

#mystic messenger #requested #saeran choi #unknown #ray #saeran x mc #mysme #romance

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carmeladorde · 5 years

Text

Those Times and 4 Years Later

After watching Eliud’s documentary video made by INEOS Challenge 159, I realized a lot of things in life. Eliud always highlights from the sport he loves to do, that it’s not only the belief in oneself that’s significant in breaking barriers, but also the belief in your teammates and the training itself.

*****

It’s somehow true to the old saying that “no man is an island”. His wisdom is simple, easy to grasp and we can almost apply to different aspects in our lives. To think that I’m about his age, I would say that he’s been always one of my inspirations in sports and life. Kenyans rule the running community and we can always learn from them. They have no secret recipes why they produce champions but it’s developing the good habits that makes the impossible, possible. Being focused, consistent, hardworking and determined in their lives are the keys to their success.

*****

I only picked-up running around 4 years ago. Before that, I lived a different life. Like most of the people around us who only grind everyday making a living, paying bills and just thinking of staying comfortable. I became at my heaviest at 63kg, was too stressed out at work, doesn’t care at all on my well-being and I woke up one day realising that I wasn’t feeling ok. I thought that I needed to do something for myself. I have never been so convinced by anyone or even a friend of mine to try running. I have a friend who is into this sport since she was in school and I know how she loves running. She kept on asking me for about 2 years to participate in local races but I wasn’t interested at all. I told myself that it was a waste of time and money and I basically don’t like running. She constantly asks me every time they would register to a race until I found myself in front of the web page of Color Run, paying for the registration fee and that was it. It was a fun run anyway, and I told myself to just try and see how it will turn up after I finish it. One fun run led me to another fun run and I became addicted to it. I was slowly learning something from the sport. 5Ks became 10Ks and I was so hungry that I even went to 21Ks. I signed-up to 1 or 2 races per month and I went on trying to participate and gain experience from different types of local races. I was enjoying it and kept going for almost a year. Then, I found myself looking for another challenge. My friend haven’t been into longer distances beyond 21Ks so I couldn’t tell her at first that I’m quiet drown to the 42K. I saw the ads of Standard Chartered Marathon Singapore and I read all the information about the race. It was 2016 that I dared myself to run a full marathon. When I completed my registration, that’s the only time I told my friend that I’m going to try this distance and see if I could really do it. There was this big fear deep inside of me because this distance is for serious runners. I know nothing about marathons when I paid the registration fee. I just wanted to challenge myself. I started to read and research about running marathons and I was totally smitten. My curiosity and love for the sport grew from there.

*****

I was only relying to my phone and I always use the Nike Running Club app with all things pertinent to running. As this was my first marathon, I didn’t expect anything so fantastic to happen to me. My goal was to know if I really can do it or not. I was telling myself that if I could finish it, then I would be happy and thankful. If on the other hand that something might happen along the course where I couldn’t make it, then it’s also fine with me. I trained alone and was juggling between work and other things. I wasn’t fully committed to the training and I couldn’t follow all the tasks given from the training plan but I still tried my best. (Maybe, I will share the details of this race on a separate post.) During the entire time and along the course, I thought I really couldn’t make it to the finish line. I have all the mixed emotions and my body was in pain and I was totally exhausted. I finished the race and was thankful that I managed to surpass the challenge I’ve put to myself. It was not a fantastic finish time but little did I know that crossing the finish line of a marathon for the first time will open bigger opportunities for me. I discovered something about myself, so profound that it’s hard to explain to others. My marathon journey did not end from here.

*****

I continued to join local races and met new friends from the running community. My journey was not always tip top and there were rough patches. Friends from the beginning started to fade away and I lost some of them. True enough that people in my life do come and go. It wasn’t easy at all and I admit that I had struggles. As they say, only the genuine people will stick to you if they really want to include you in their journey too. I instilled to myself that I will do my best to still keep on going even if I must do running alone. Nothing is permanent in this world, if there are chances that I’d meet new friends, then I would be grateful then. After all, I will do it for myself to help me change for the better. Life must go on anyway. For numerous times that failed in life, one thing that I’m truly grateful is that there are few who stood by me and supported me along the way. New friendships were born from meeting them thru social media and thankfully those friends also became your “life-friends” outside of running. Friends who are from different walks of life who helped me grow and inspire me to dare greatly in life. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to strive in my own pursuit.

*****

I learned about the World Marathon Majors, particularly Tokyo Marathon. I registered thru their balloting entry and was hoping that my name would be selected. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my time and my plans to travel to Japan have been postponed. I also tried Standard Chartered Hong Kong Marathon but my name wasn’t selected. I told myself that I will wait for the following year to try again. I minimised joining in local races as I was thinking to save money so that I can prepare for overseas races just in case I get selected. In later part of year 2016, I saw the ads of Gold Coast Airport Marathon from one of the accounts of a running club that I’m following in social media and I visited the website to know more about it. I invited my friends to join me and thought that it would be fun to travel together. I registered to the race as soon as they opened it online and a few months later, my friends whom I invited cancelled their plans, leaving me alone to travel. I never travelled alone in my entire life and I was a bit hesitant to pursue my trip. Then I asked my sister to come with me. We both applied for a visa and arranged our itineraries. It was also my sister’s first time to travel to Australia. I was relieved that I had someone who accompanied me on my first overseas race. (I will share my experience about GCAM on a separate post.) We both enjoyed our trip to Australia and we even visited our relatives there. My desire to join and complete more marathons grew stronger.

*****

When 2017 came, I patiently waited for August, the month when Tokyo Marathon opens their registration for general entry. I tried again for the second time and I convinced one of my friends to try too. After a month, we received the email notification from the organisers. To our delight, we were both accepted to participate in Tokyo Marathon 2018. I felt like I won in lottery except that this has no prize money involved. I couldn’t explain in details what I felt. It was generally overwhelming and I couldn’t focus on my work for the rest of the afternoon. There, I was on cloud nine! The days came by quickly, training, preparing, and arranging things up until I saw myself standing at the start pen about to run the biggest city in the world. (To be continued on a separate post.) I felt like I was unstoppable right at that moment. Running gave me a whole new world and I was so exhilarated. I was crying after I crossed the finish line. I achieved a personal best and I broke my 7-hour barrier since my first marathon. I’m grateful that all my hard work really paid off. It was indeed a whole new level of experience. After returning from the race, I knew for myself that I was still craving for another overseas marathon. I then searched for the other 5 world marathon majors and I tried balloting for BMW Berlin Marathon and Bank of America Chicago Marathon. October came and the results were in for Berlin. My name was selected and this was on a first try. Germany is one of the countries that I wanted to visit since I was young because of their rich history and architecture. I still decided to join Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon on the same year, hoping to break my own record and run it with my friend. In the end, we finished the race but I lost to humidity only to have my timing to be the same as my first try. That was my last long run before heading to Tokyo on the following year.

*****

Nothing is fantastic about my records because I’m just your average runner here. I still have a lot to learn about running and myself. I’m not a professional athlete and like everyone else, I too, have a full time job. I’m still working on my progress and I want to take it one step at a time and keep myself as balanced as I could be in order not to burn out myself too early that I may lose enthusiasm in running in the end. I’m trying my best to go with what works well for me. It was only a challenge to myself when I signed-up for my first marathon. I hate running during my school days and I’m not an athletic person. It wasn’t my dream to run a marathon, until it became a crazy day dream.

*****

I thank every single one of you who has reached up to this point reading my story. Really, thank you for taking interest in knowing a pinch of my life. I hope everyone will gain something from what I wanted to convey. May you truly discover other great things that are inside of you. May you be bold enough in chasing things that’s worthy and will bring you to where you’re supposed to be. When the time comes that you succeed in reaching your stars, please don’t forget to share them to others and tag them along so you will bring some motivation to themselves and may they be inspired as well.

*****

C.D.

#runner #run #runwithgratitude #roadtomarathon #journalsbykidfromph #runtheworld #runhappy

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kennyrobots · 3 years

Text

answer in the form of an answer, part 21.

Would an immigration ban that targets Muslims make the country safer? Your answer: No Answers you’ll accept: Yes, and we should enforce one | Maybe, but we shouldn't enforce one | No Importance: Very Maybe it's the frequency illusion at work here, but the last three(ish) questions I've answered have a helluva political bent to it. (NOTE: At least, from the time of the original question...answering. Not sure if or how much OKC's redesign messed with the layout of these questions, in relation to each other.) Personally, I'm curious as to the actual efficacy of these questions, vis-a-vis actually getting people to answer their true feelings on here. Like, what's to stop a person from answering the PC way, but acting IRL contrary to what they're claiming? Yes, I'm aware that answering privately is a thing that exists, but still. In a very odd way (specifically the devil's advocate-y way I force myself to see all sides of an argument, even if the underlying premise is ridiculous) (kids in cages - that's kinda indefensible, y'all), I almost sorta respect the folks that say "Yes", because I think they're being truthful, and God knows my dumb ass loves authenticity. I do wonder about the folks that say "No", though (like myself, full disclosure). Of those folks that SAY "No", how many of them actually MEAN it, and who's just showing off? Genuinely curious. yeah - the redesign messed with a LOT of things, much less the order in which i answered questions. like, right now, the site’s...it’s not “unusable”, but damn, it used to have so much more functionality. like, right now there’s no real way for me to just browse potential matches (or even users in general) like i used to do - i’m basically stuck with either whatever random poor soul ends up foisted upon me in the discover tab, or whoever the site’s algorithms deem worthy of showing me in the questions tab, and the prerequisite for THAT is that i have to enter a question and answer to see who responded in kind. (also, there are 5K+ questions on this godforsaken site. i am literally going to die before i get to the finish line.) (just did the math - assuming they do not add any more questions in the intervening time (which ain’t likely), and assuming i stick to my two-questions-per-day schedule (which IS likely), it would take over 7 YEARS to post everything. so yeah - me dying is literally likelier than finishing this stupid fucking project. i feel like i should regret starting this, but fuck it - i’m already here. might as well keep going.) ANYWAY. i have a tendency of reading through all of a person’s questions whenever they pique my interest, because 1) as someone who writes a lot of fucking words, it would be both hypocritical and irresponsible of me to not read someone else’s lot of fucking words (even if being seen as hypocritical is not even a thing for me - i am openly hypocritical, because in the course of the whole “exploring the depths of my mind” thing, it’s become necessary for me to hold two or more conflicting opinions at the same time, just to be able to see as many sides of an idea as possible, and i don’t need things like “cognitive dissonance” slowing me down), and 2) as a result of plumbing the depths of my own mind, i’ve become interested in what comes out of the minds of others, especially on a dating site, where the express goal is to LITERALLY get to know another person. (an adjacent thought about this that i had while taking a shower today: some common advice vis-à-vis online dating is to not care so much about being liked, so that you don’t experience the feel-bads that accompany putting in so much work for so little return, but...that’s also the entire point of online dating - to be LIKED by someone. obviously, that’s greatly oversimplifying things, but still. something that struck me that i’ll probably flesh out in a later post.) (also, i use “vis-à-vis” a lot.) (unsure if that’s actionable in any way - again, another thing that struck me.) ANYWAY. obviously i’m an outlier, putting an explanation with every answer i’ve provided, but i’m both delighted when someone else puts an explanation in their answer (because then we’re allowed to go beyond the parameters of the question and the provided answers, which, no matter what, are limiting in-themselves), and saddened when i scroll through someone’s profile, and see that their questions are as barren as their main page. (like, i get that the advice is to keep it short and pithy, but man. y’all don’t have ANY supplementary thoughts about the question? no wonder y’all suck at conversation.) (here’s what i mean by the whole “limiting in-themselves” bit: aside from just expressing my insane personality, the thing i like having a blank space to provide an explanation is that it allows me to move beyond the question and answer itself, a lot of times in ways that surprise even ME, and I’M the one that’s writing it. without that option, you’re kinda just stuck with the options they give you, and i actually complain about that a number of times in my explanations, where there’s either not enough or too many answers given (normally the former), and that the actual answer’s somewhere in-between what’s there. i see that most people are okay with this, and, sure - that’s their bag. but then it leads to things like the above, where either an insane person or an HONEST person would answer in the affirmative, vis-à-vis (damnit) an immigration ban.) (or a stupid person - we ought to be inclusive, after all.) (i’ve actually thought about this in the context of “open-world” video games - while we (the royal “we”) marvel at how much there is to do, how you can do “anything you want” in the game, soonandsoforth, it’s STILL limited by what the developers INTENDED for you to do. sure, there are such things as exploits and outright cheats that allow you to do things that weren’t EXPRESSLY intended by the developers, but you’re still limited by the framework in which the game was developed. in other words, let’s say you wanted to play a session of GTA online in which you were a normal person that went to their banking job each day, and just had a normal home life, and maybe played golf on the weekends, because, y’know - BANKERS. in THEORY, i guess you could do that (i actually don’t know what you can and can’t do in GTA online, seeing that 1) i’ve never played it, and 2) i have no interest in doing so, because online multiplayer? yuck and no thank you), but you can only do that insofar that the developer - unknowingly or not - put the tools for you do to so in the game. if they didn’t? you’re shit outta luck - go blow up a car or rob a bank or whatever else you’re allowed to do in there.) (”why are you playing GTA online to be a normal person?” great question, and for no particular reason other than “why not?”, i suppose.) (just not a fan of being unnecessarily limited like that, is all.) (or are you in the habit of obeying even the unwritten rules all the time?) NEXTDAYEDIT: so actually, there’s a quote within a vox article that kindasorta sums up all that i tried to say in the preceding quite nicely: “ But mostly, this framing is misleading because, like pretty much any generalization of what goes on on a platform or in a subculture or within a generation, it completely erases the nuanced beliefs that actual individuals have.“ and THAT’s what i’m ultimately getting at, with my jumbo-sized word salad - by limiting yourself to the answers provided, without providing any additional context or explanation in the space that’s LITERALLY there for you to do so, you take some nuance out of the online dating conversation. (ONCE AGAIN, unsure if this is actionable in any way - just something i can’t unsee, is all.) (maybe the point is to actually talk about these things when you reach out and start conversations with folk. ...i guess.)

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kaleidoscopephilosophy-blog · 7 years

Text

Wasted Time

“Well, yeah, it’s Saturday night! Of course I’m going out.”

After all, only the nerds and the losers stay in on weekends. If you’re not getting absolutely smashed every Friday and Saturday night, what are you doing with your life? As they say, you only have the college experience once, and I’m sure as hell not going to blow it.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe, just this once, we could try something different, maybe something new and exciting, like--” says Veronica.

“Like going to that huge party at Sigma Pi everyone’s been talking about? It’s gonna be absolutely lit, trust me,” I interject.

Justin and Richie nod vigorously in agreement, and Richie spills some beer on his shirt.

“Aw, fuck, man,” he grumbles. “Not again!”

“You fuckin’ klutz,” laughs Justin, elbowing Richie, who spills more beer.

“Shut up, dickhead!” says Richie, shoving Justin. Justin pushes back, and a sluggish shoving match ensues.

“Guys, stop it!” Veronica squeals, forcing herself between the two sweaty young men. They glare at each other, then move to opposite sides of the dorm room. Richie quickly downs his beer and grabs another, popping it open and pouting. Justin goes back to playing beer pong with Olivia, Susan, and Mary. Mary edges away from Justin when he stands a little too close to her.

“Look, I get that you’re excited about this party, but we’ve gone to a frat party every weekend night for the past two months! Doesn’t it ever start to get a bit stale for you?” says Veronica.

I look at her incredulously, exchanging glances with Victor and Richie, who smirk back at me.

“Stale? Are you kidding? Boundless booze and breathtaking broads as far as the eye can see… to me, that’s paradise,” I reply. Richie laughs. “I would party every night if I could. Hey, Justin, pass me another beer, would ya?”

As Justin tosses me a cold one, Veronica opens her mouth to respond.

“Yeah, ‘paradise.’ Huge, hairy guys grabbing at your body and drooling on your hair in a sweltering room with music blasting at some ungodly high volume… it doesn’t get much better than that, does it, Aaron?”

“Hey, you looked like you were having fun last night! Who was that guy you hooked up with? Michael?” I say.

“Matthew. And ew, no! He was disgusting! I had to physically push him away multiple times before he took the hint,” she says. “Besides, I haven’t hooked up with anyone since Jason, so stop making up things that didn’t happen.”

“You really should get yourself back out there, Ver,” Mary yells over from the beer pong table. “You’re hot! It’d be hard to find a guy who wouldn’t want to hook up with you, and you know it!”

Veronica blushes, and I can’t help but stare at her tantalizing brown eyes. I swear, they’re like whirlpools, pulling in whatever hapless young sailor happens to be passing by and spitting him out whole before he can even sink past the surface. Maybe one day, if she’d just give me a chance, she would finally see that I--

“Thanks, boo, but you know I can’t just do that with a total stranger… it’s too weird for me. Call me crazy, but that’s just how I am,” says Veronica.

“Whatever you say, girlie,” yells Olivia, sinking a shot over at the pong table. As she shrieks with delight and high fives Susan, I take careful note of her voluptuous figure. I can’t wait to get to the party, where I know I’ll be surrounded by dozens of scantily-clad Olivias. It’s genius that frats let them in for free. Thank the lord sororities can’t have parties. What a genius system. It’s like a fuckin’ harem every night! Take your pick! Enjoy the buffet!

“Well, you can’t complain anyway,” I say. “You guys get in for free. We have to pay.”

“Still, frats are gross,” says Veronica. “If I were a boy, I wouldn’t pay to get into one of those pissholes.”

“You claim to be a feminist, Veronica,” says Victor, “but I haven’t heard you say a peep about the blatant misogyny inherent in the fraternity system. Same with you, Susan.”

Susan flips him off.

“Oh, shut up, Victor,” I say. “I’m too drunk for your big words, and no one wants to talk about fuckin’ politics and shit right now.”

“Dude, it’s a serious issue! In my eyes, at least, but no one wants to talk about it because everyone would rather just get drunk and have sex every weekend without thinking twice,” he says.

“That’s exactly right, Victor,” says Justin, grinning as he sinks yet another shot into a red solo cup. He tries to hug Mary, but she pushes him away, grimacing. Justin shrugs, and Mary takes another shot of tequila.

“Dude, admit it, you’re just bitter because you don’t drink and you can’t get girls,” says Richie, drunkenly attempting to open his sixth beer of the evening.

“You know I’m saving myself for marriage!” exclaims Victor, blushing. Everyone bursts out in laughter.

“What? When I told Father Flanagan, he said I was making a very intelligent choice, and that I’m ‘truly wise beyond my years,’” Victor says smugly. “Stop laughing!”

“I can’t believe you actually believe all that horseshit they force down your throat in church,” says Justin, sneering. “Becoming an atheist was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it makes listening to you people spew your fairy tale garbage fuckin’ hilarious!”

“I have a personal relationship with Christ, Justin,” says a steely Victor. “And I think you could really benefit from one, too.”

“‘Personal fuckin’ relationship with fuckin’ Christ,’” says Justin, laughing hysterically. “Oh, loving and merciful Lord, forgive Victor for being such a fuckin asshat!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” shouts Veronica, waving her arms in the air as if she is attempting to fly away. “Let’s all just try to be friends, okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough politics and religion for a full month,” I add, grinning at Veronica. She doesn’t return my smile. Even in her angered state, she is so incredibly sexy.

“Alright, who’s ready to go? We’ve been pre-gaming for almost two hours now,” says Susan impatiently. Ah, pre-gaming. Another absolutely genius invention. Getting drunk before you actually get to the party saves so much time. It lets you cut right to chase, jump right in, if you catch my drift. You still drink at the party, of course, but you’ll already be drunk when you arrive. Then comes either the post-game, or, even better, the coveted hook-up.

“Yeah, we can go now,” I say as Victor pushes past me, reaching for the door handle.

“Fuck all of you,” he says, flipping us off. “I’m staying in tonight to watch SNL.”

“Whatever you say, man,” says Justin, laughing. He bumps fists with Richie.

Victor shakes his head and slams the door. I wait a few moments, then open it as we all file into the hallway.

“What the hell was his problem?” asks Olivia, looking puzzled.

“Something to do with him not being able to get girls,” says Justin, laughing.

“You don’t have to be such a dick all the time, you know,” says Veronica, frowning.

“He’s a fuckin’ Jesus freak, Veronica! You heard him!” says Justin, gesturing in the general direction of Victor’s room.

“You should at least respect his beliefs, Justin,” she curtly replies, not making eye contact.

“Goddamn. The world’s gone mad. I need another beer,” says Justin, sighing loudly.

“So, anyway,” says Susan, attempting to ease the tension, “did I tell you guys about the guy who wore a gorilla suit to my Art History lecture on Thursday?”

“Wha-- no! Do tell!” says Mary.

As Susan tells her story, I zone out as I stare at her perfect ass, hidden somewhere under those flowery green hippie pants. She’s gorgeous, despite the fact that she never wears makeup or washes her long, curly brown hair. She seems to be convinced she’s living in the 1960s; I mean, she wears a fucking dandelion in her hair nearly every day! And she’s so smart, too. Valedictorian of her high school, even though she’d never tell you. She doesn’t really drink, though, and surprisingly, she’s not into weed, either. She’s a bona fide hippie, but doesn’t smoke pot! Unbelievable, I know. It’s too bad, really. Doesn’t ever hook up with guys, either. It’s her life, I guess, and don’t get me wrong, I respect her choices! I just don’t get it.

Before long, we make it to Sigma Pi. The line’s a little long, but we’ve been hearing all week about how lit this party is supposed to be, so we decide to wait. A few people step out of line; one of them is puking. Pathetic, I know.

Finally, we get to the door. As I reach into my wallet for ten dollars, the girls walk in. The four frat bros at the door check each of them out, nodding with approval. I envy these frat guys. They have it all: a free ticket to parties every weekend, girls to hook up with whenever they want, and, best of all, a real, genuine brotherhood. I kick myself for not rushing a frat this year. Next semester, I vow to myself.

I hand one of the guys my $10, and he stamps my hand. I walk in, flanked by Justin and Richie, and scan the basement for the bar. The music is blasting, as expected, and the whole room reeks of weed. For such a wonderful plant, marijuana really does smell terrible when it burns. As we make our way through the sea of inebriated dancing students, I spot Mary and Olivia, but I don’t see the bar.

“Yo, dude, check out that girl over there,” says Richie, gesturing toward the corner of the room, where a tan latina dressed in all white is dancing like a fuckin’ stripper on a pole. Why the hell is there a pole down here? Only in college, I guess.

“Damn, bro,” says Justin, unable to avert his stare. He makes brief eye contact with the latina, who winks and beckons him toward her. In a matter of seconds, he is dancing beside her in a proximity that would make Victor’s Father Flanagan cringe.

“Looks like we lost him for the night,” remarks Richie, laughing.

“Yeah,” I say, only half paying attention to his comment. “Hey, where’s the bar? I need to chug a few beers.”

Some tall older guy with round John Lennon sunglasses who is passing by overhears me and points toward the far corner of the room, opposite of where Justin is getting his lap dance.

“It’s over there, brah,” he says. “Hey, brah, you smoke?” He is holding a blunt in his hand, and he pushes it in my direction. I nod, staring at his bright red dreadlocks. Only in college.

“Take a hit, brodie,” he says, grinning.

“Uh-- alright, man,” I stammer. “Thanks.” I take a hit and begin to cough, prompting a laugh from my new pal.

“You a freshman?” he asks, taking back his blunt.

“Yeah,” I answer. He laughs again.

“I can tell,” he says, still grinning. He takes another hit, then offers me the blunt for a second time. I try again, this time managing not to break into a coughing fit like an idiot. I turn around to see what Richie is making of the Bob-Marley-look-alike, but he isn’t there. I do a quick scan of the room and spot him about twenty yards away, dancing with a very drunk frumpy blonde.

“Look, brah,” says Redlocks. (Genius, I know. Red + dreadlocks = Redlocks.) “These bitches don’t want nothin’ to do with some awkward freshman. You gotta have confidence, brodie. Swagger. Watch.”

Redlocks hands me his blunt and walks toward the stripper-dancer latina girl. I pocket it and look on as he grabs her by the hips and pulls her away from Justin, who stares open-mouthed as she begins to grind on the very tall newcomer. I can’t help but laugh. Redlocks pulls her closer to him, and the two of them start making out. He opens his eyes and winks at me, raising his right arm above the latina’s head and pointing at her as if to say, “Look, kid. This is how you do it.” Wow. Maybe this guy does know what he’s talking about. Just then, Justin spots me and stumbles over in a huff.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” he asks me angrily. I can only point at Redlocks and the latina, awestruck by what has just transpired.

“So you saw what that fuckin’ asshole did with my girl?” he demands, his fists balled up. “I was supposed to be the one making out with her, not that fuckin’ giraffe!”

“Dude, that guy is some kind of magician or something,” I say softly. Justin doesn’t hear me.

“Fuck!” he yells. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As he makes off for the bar, I wonder if I can manage to pull off what this genius with red dreadlocks has just accomplished. Scanning the room, I spot my target in a matter of seconds. She’s a petite brunette, complete with a round ass and a stunning rack. She’s dancing on a short, stocky guy with a buzz cut, who is decked out in a green sleeveless shirt with a skull on the front and tan khaki shorts. I make my way over, forcing myself to continue on my mission with every nervous step. If Redlocks could do it, so can I.

She glances at me for a second, and I realize I am staring directly at her. I avert my gaze, but continue to walk toward her until I am standing right next to her. Before I make my move, I take a quick look around the room. I see Mary and Olivia dancing with the frat guys who let us in over in the corner. Justin is drinking a beer beside them, sulking. Richie is still with that blonde, who looks like she may puke or pass out at any minute. I take a deep breath, then turn toward my target and grab her by the hips.

Before I can pull her onto my waist, she slaps at my hands and pushes me away. Shit.

“Hey!” yells the guy with whom she was just dancing. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I break into a cold sweat. The guy advances toward me menacingly, and the petite brunette steps behind him.

“Uh, well, you see, I was just, um, trying to, uh--” I stammer, not sure how I will finish the sentence. By now, one of his friends has walked up next to him, a nearly-empty beer bottle in hand. Don’t ask me how I notice the amount of beer left in the bottle in the heat of the moment; I’m just very observant, I guess. He glares at me, and they both take another step toward me.

“Trying to what, you fuckin’ perv?” he asks. They take another step, and I realize I’m backed up against the wall. A small crowd has started to form around us, perhaps sensing that a fight may be imminent.

“You think you can just walk up and grab someone’s girlfriend?” he asks, more loudly this time. “Huh? You think you’re fuckin’ Donald Trump or somethin’?”

I laugh nervously, then quickly realize that was a mistake. His face turns red with anger, and he grabs the beer bottle out of his friend’s hand. My god. He’s going to hit my with the bottle. Why the fuck did I ever think this idea would work? How the hell did Redlocks pull it off? This is supposed to be the ‘college experience,’ isn’t it? Everyone gets wasted out of his or her mind, then guys get to go out and fuck whatever girls they choose, right? That’s how it’s supposed to be! That’s how it is in the fuckin’ movies!

As my tirade of confused and angry thoughts culminates, I notice that a really big crowd has materialized around us. Some of the frat guys are chanting for us to fight. The guy I’ve pissed off thrusts the beer bottle over his shaved head and cathartically screams. I notice a tattoo of a machine gun on his arm. Lovely. I also notice the toned muscle around that tattoo and gulp with trepidation.

“Aaron!” Someone is yelling my name. I look out into the crowd to try to find the source of the shouting.

“Aaron! Aaron!” It’s Veronica. She is jumping up and down, frantically waving her arms in an effort to get my attention. I make eye contact with her. The fear in her eyes makes my stomach drop.

“Aaron!” she yells again, pointing. “Duck!”

Before I can register what she has said, I feel a shattering explosion of pain as the beer bottle collides with my right temple. I taste blood as it drips down into my mouth. The room is spinning, and all I see are fuzzy colors. I hear muted yelps and screams of victory through my ringing ears. My head is throbbing, but I feel a strange warm sensation throughout my body, as if I am falling asleep. Like the end of a movie, everything slowly, quietly fades to black.

********

“They found WHAT?”

I look up from my not-so-comfortable white hospital bed at my friends, who are gathered in a circle around me. Olivia, Mary, Justin, Richie, Susan, and Veronica are all here. No sign of Victor, though. Oh, well.

“Yeah, apparently it was in your pocket,” says Justin. “What I want to know is why you even had a blunt in the first place. We didn’t smoke last night!”

Suddenly, like a cold wave splashing me in the face, it all comes back. The really tall guy with the round John Lennon sunglasses and red dreadlocks! The one who gave me the “advice” that earned me eight stitches and a concussion. Just thinking about him makes my temple throb.

“That’s a story for another day, my friend,” I say, half-grinning. “Wait, what ended up happening to the guy who hit me over the head with the bottle?”

My friends all start to laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“He was a senior member of Sigma Pi. Essentially ran the whole frat. And you stole his girl,” says Justin, still laughing.

“I did not ‘steal his girl,’” I reply, making air quotes with my fingers, which makes them laugh even harder. “She rejected me!”

“As she should have!” says Susan. “That was a real pig move by you, you know.”

“Oh, come on, Susan,” I argue, “it’s the college experience!”

“That’s not an excuse for grabbing women!” says Veronica.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Justin. “Let’s all just go out tonight and get blasted so we can forget about all of this.”

“First of all, I doubt they’ll discharge me by tonight, dude,” I say. “And second of all, I got caught with weed! Wasn’t I technically supposed to be put under arrest or something?”

“No, I sweet-talked the police officer into letting you off with a warning,” says Olivia, winking at me.

“Oh, okay, great! Uh, thanks!” I say. “But third of all, it’s Sunday! There aren’t going to be any parties on a Sunday night!”

“Sure there are! I know a guy in Phi Upsilon who says they’re throwing an absolute rager tonight!” says Justin.

“Look, Justin, you can go out if you want, but I’m going to stay here with Aaron,” says Veronica, glaring at him and then turning her soft brown eyes and easy smile to me.

“Me too,” says Susan.

“And me,” says Olivia.

“Don’t forget me!” pipes Mary.

“I guess I’ll stay, too,” mumbles Richie.

“Damn, guys, Aaron’s going to be fine!” says Justin. “Besides, he would want us to go out, wouldn’t you, buddy?”

I look at Justin as if I’m seeing him in the light for the first time. What kind of friend says that? The rest of these guys are being true friends, but Justin-- well, he’s just being himself, I guess.

“You know what? Just go out, Justin, and have fun,” I say, smiling. “Let me know how it goes. I don’t think I’ll be going out again-- for a while, at least, anyway.”

Justin looks at me warily, sensing a shift in my tone.

“Okay, buddy,” he says uneasily. “Feel better!” He walks through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

“Can you believe him?” Veronica asks. The other girls nod and grunt in agreement. Richie looks longingly out the door, then turns back toward the group.

“So, if we’re not going out this weekend, what are we going to do?” he asks me, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could try something different,” I say, looking toward Veronica, who returns my smile. “Something new and exciting.”

“Like what?” asks Olivia.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” says a glowing Veronica. “There’s this new Thai place that just opened up on Palace Street, so I was thinking we go there for dinner at around seven, then afterward, there’s this really pretty spot on the hill next to Luchsinger Hall that I hear has an amazing view I’ve been meaning to check out, and I was thinking we could all go there with blankets and just lay down and talk and wait for the stars to come out, and then maybe we could…”

As she excitedly describes her plans to the group, I smile and close my eyes. Maybe I was looking in all the wrong places for the college experience. Maybe, after all these weekends of trying so hard to have fun, everything I’ve been looking for has been right under my nose all along.

#satire #college #wasted #time

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