#finally got a therapy appointment on the books after months of searching and waiting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softevnstan · 1 year

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³.⍭ 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 - PART II.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender netural!reader

summary. you couldn't believe the name that graced the file on your desk for your new patient. james 'bucky' barnes. you'd heard of him - even studied some of his history during college for psychology classes. never would you have imagined he'd be sent to your office, looking for help.

a.n. you guys responded really well for part one so i wanted to work on part two. no beta, we die like men. i have no fully formed plan with this so i apologize if i got anyone's hopes up. see part one here (make sure you read that first, otherwise, parts of this won't make sense). i also hate using 'y/n', but i don't know how not to, so i heavily recommend the 'InteractiveFics' chrome extension - it'll automatically correct 'Y/N' to the name of your choosing (and can replace other terms)

w.c. 3.6k

tags. depression mention, suicide mention, ptsd mention, therapy, recovering!bucky barnes, patient x therapist (as a whole for the series), not 100% accurate therapy - based on my own perspective and experiences.

‘What am I doing here?’ Bucky's mind played like a broken record, brain scouring for any reason to excuse himself from this appointment altogether.

Was it too late to slip out of the room? Surely not - the secretary was one of the four people (including himself) that sat in the same gray room, and she didn't seem to be paying too much mind hunched over her desk in a seek-and-find book.

The waiting room was dark - lacking any real windows in the area given it was part of a larger building that housed the offices. Bucky had taken the stairs up to the second floor after stepping into the building and searched the stretched hall for your office number and silver nameplate on the walls. Upon finally finding it, Bucky couldn't help but see it as a blessing and a curse. No more wandering aimlessly with the inkling of tension that'd begun to grow with the anxiety of someone approaching him to potentially redirect him. But it also meant he was now another excuse short for skipping this referral appointment entirely.

When stepping in, the atmosphere wasn't near as comforting as he'd been hoping. The space was dark and dimly lit by the glow of orange lamps; chairs sat neatly along the wall with a coffee table, scattered with magazines that had been flipped through countlessly since they'd been there. There was a rounded desk to the left of entering the room where an older woman sat, glasses sitting on the end of her nose and the signs of aging prevalent in her graying hair. Along the back wall, there are several doors; Individual offices, Bucky's brain supplied.

There were shelves of books and an overwhelming amount of fake plants in the room. The closest window that Bucky could scour out immediately was a narrow, rectangular one. Lone by itself given the layout of the office building not allowing for it. Hardly any natural light seeped into the room. If the actual offices with the therapists were as gloomy as this, Bucky would have better luck abandoning all hope right then and excusing himself. Save him another uncomfortable experience in the mental health field.

Working with Raynor wasn't exactly what Bucky needed as a first experience in therapy. Before the 70 years that he'd spent under HYDRA's thumb, there were no resources like this at home. Mental Health hardly existed as a concept - no awareness of the rippling effects of war or aid for the soldiers that would return traumatized and self-loathing. Hell, men beat their wives back then like property. That was even without the PSTD and fragile masculinity slammed on top.

Not his father, thank a god that Bucky isn't sure he even believes in anymore.

Christina was rough around the edges. A former officer in the military, one would think she may be perfect for the job in regard to Bucky's emotional baggage and the weight he carries. She wasn't. That was something Bucky only began to learn months later with Sam's help; That while Dr. Raynor was not a bad woman, she was not what Bucky had needed to begin opening up to people. The clipped energy that filled a room when sharing a space with Christina made it near impossible to relax fully; When Bucky was being a little difficult on his bad days (yes, he can admit he's difficult), instead of approaching him with patience, Raynor would combat his comments with her own condescending ones. It felt more like a weekly brawl where he had something to prove rather than a safe space to begin the healing process.

It was like ripping open a healing wound, wondering why it wouldn't improve, and being confused when it worsens under brutal treatment.

Dr. Raynor was not what Bucky needed, simply put.

But the one that woman did right with all certainty was to at least aid in redirecting Bucky to someone that can help him produce better results.

That's what landed him there. In the waiting room of your office with an appointment at 3:15 p.m.

Your praise was sung of being someone who was more approachable and positive, albeit not naively so. When Bucky was peering at reviews and your background check - comforting his own paranoia - he'd seen nothing but kind things said. How patient you were. How compassionate; How you make your patients feel heard and understood. How you provide the tools to create a proper support system and show people how to live again. Bucky tries not to get his hopes up for things, but he was certainly beginning to spark hope when he was able to look more into your reviews. It made him want to try again rather than give up.

But sitting in that dim-lit office, he's not sure how confident he is in that statement anymore. Bucky's left leg bounces in an anxious fidget. His shoulders are tight, arms folded over his chest in a closed-off stance while he sits back in one of the empty chairs of the waiting room. To anyone else, Bucky probably looks angry at the world - it's just him hiding his nerves. Never an intentional expression worn, it's simply become a default to wrinkle his forehead and wear a tired face.

Bucky could still leave. The heavy door that he'd pushed open to get in taunts him from where he sits.

And it's right as he's weighing out the consequences of bailing on this idea altogether that the sound of a door opening grabs his attention. Head turning in the direction of the noise, tired eyes squinting slightly for a brief moment when light pours into the room. A woman in roughly her thirties steps out of the first door lining the back wall, followed by you. Bucky is only certain of that fact because he recognizes your face from the LinkedIn profile you have.

"Thank you again for coming in, Greta, I'm looking forward to hearing about your daughter's Bat Mitzvah; tell her happy birthday for me." you tell the woman that's begun her leave.

"Of course, I hope your next session goes well," beams a woman, assumedly 'Greta'.

Bucky sucks his bottom lip in, worrying the skin between his teeth before sighing out through his nose. Attempting to take a steadying breath to appease his nerves when--

"Mr. Barnes?" your voice prompts.

Running away isn't a choice anymore. Not realistically.

So Bucky drops his arms and feels the taut muscles in his shoulders before trying to force them to settle. Rolling broad muscle under his leather coat before pressing off the armrests of the wooden chair with gloved hands to get up. His eyes remain averted from your face, but he crosses the room to you nevertheless.

"It's nice to meet you, James, if you'd please step in here with me," you hold the door open for Bucky; Allowing him to step into the relatively small space.

But it's not suffocating, he notices.

It's actually a stark contrast to the heavy waiting room he'd just been sitting in for the past 10 minutes or so. The light of day pours in from the tall, wide window on the back wall of the room. In the brief space where the window doesn't occupy the wall, there's a bookcase sat with countless psychology books. A soft-looking loveseat is pressed against the wall to Bucky's right, and across from that is a matching single chair with an end table. On the table sits a lamp, a box of tissues, and what appears to be a selection of colorful fidget toys. The walls are hogged by large framed photos; some of paintings, some of hyper-realistic photos or art. The floor is a deep gray-brown carpet, the walls painted a soft eggshell. Plants sit on the shelf in front of the window, drinking in the sun; He spots a Wandering Jew, two cactuses (both different breeds), and a succulent perched comfortably.

"Have a seat," your voice interrupts the way Bucky studies the room, and promptly he moves to the loveseat. Lowering himself into it, it's significantly more comfortable than the chair he was just sitting in. Still, Bucky sits stiffly. Uncomfortable; refraining from letting his back touch the couch and posture coming across as closed up without him even realizing it.

Like a mantra, belittling thoughts play on a broken loop through his head.

This isn't going to work. It's going to end badly. I'm going to be seen as a monster all the same. I'm a bad person, I don't deserve this. Other people deserve it more. I'm wasting everyone's time.

The thoughts spiral heavier and heavier for Bucky, even as you close the door; successfully sectioning him and you off from the rest of the world. His jaw sets as you move to sit across from him.

Bucky silently wishes the moment would end before it's even begun.

He wants to go back to his apartment, even if it makes him just as miserable.

“So, Mr. Barnes, from what I’m understanding, you'd like to make me your primary therapist and discontinue working with Doctor Raynor?”

Bucky wants to heal. You see it in him. The first step is admitting you have an issue; that there is something wrong. Not that Bucky is wrong, but his headspace surely is a defunct mess; The task ahead of you in untangling said mess is daunting, but Bucky is worthy of it. He deserves it. Even if he doesn't realize that yet.

He deserves to have someone who's willing to help him understand and put the pieces back together. Not simply throw their hands up the first time that Bucky struggles and leave him to fend for himself - this man was done far too much fending by himself.

It's clear by the silence followed by the words, 'That’s all I’ll ever ask of you', that Bucky isn't sure what to say. Rather than allowing the quiet to eat at him, you continue the conversation. Save him from the anxiety he might be feeling in being unable to muster a reply.

"So, Bucky - Can I call you 'Bucky'?" You ask, sure to keep a warm and approachable composure. Bucky's comfort is your priority; If he feels unwelcomed, he won't come back.

A stiff nod comes from the man across you. He still struggles to meet your gaze; Eventually, you'll both work on that, but for now, you don't mind. Let him take things at his own pace.

"So, Bucky," you reiterate, leaning back in your armchair and crossing your legs at the ankle. Your shoulders ease and you relax into your seat. "How about we start by getting to know you a little bit; Where you'd like to work first and what some of your immediate issues are, in your opinion."

Bucky's teeth clench - you can tell because his jaw flexes and it pulls on your heartstrings for a moment. His shoulders look so tight, his body so stiff. Chiseled features are hard, and his face doesn't seem nearly as full as you'd seen in museums and textbooks while growing up and learning American History. Dare you even say he almost looks sunken in, with dark rings around his eyes and sadness in gray hues.

You wonder how he sleeps at night - if he even does. If he eats the way he should. It's heartbreaking to see a man carved into such a husk.

"Raynor was working with me to make amends," Bucky starts, and surely that doesn't mean what you think it does-- "To make things right for what I did as the Winter Soldier, as a condition of my pardon."

"There's nothing to make right, Bucky." You answer almost immediately; your blood feeling hot for half a moment. You saw history unfold right before you, living in New York. Hearing the chaos of HYDRA overtaking SHIELD in 2014, that Boy Wonder 'Bucky Barnes' was still alive. Many things were kept from the public, as much as they could be, but one thing was for certain. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could see that Bucky was another victim of HYDRA's. Not the catalyst for the carnage. An unwilling piece of the puzzle.

You have to stop yourself from becoming too expressive, though. Despite the quickness of your words, you maintain an evenness to them. "Now, I won't pretend to know what's happened with it all; That's something for us to talk about with time. But I can promise you right now, Bucky, that I am not Dr. Raynor. And while we can revise the conditions of your pardon, you won't be trying to fix mistakes you didn't make. We're here to help you."

Another break of silence, and Bucky has begun to fidget with his hands. Kneading them together in his lap; your own gaze flickering briefly to watch the leather rub on leather.

"I... I don't know what to say," Bucky speaks, his voice soft and timid. Unmatching the hardness of his face.

A small crease forms between his brows, eyes downcast but briefly lifting to peer at you.

"You don't have to know what to say right now," you gently tell him. "I know you may not agree with my perspective on things right now, but please hear me when I tell you that I'm not here to judge you. You're a survivor, Bucky."

A soft huff comes from him - lip curling into a crooked grin that's humorless. Bucky shakes his head right after, and the expression falls. You watch curiously.

"I'm sorry, it's... Everyone seems to either look at me like the pariah or like a victim." Bucky explains, and for a moment, your lips form a soft smile. You lean forward, shifting your position once more to lean in a little closer to Bucky's space without outright intruding on it.

"You're a survivor," you reiterate. Making sure he hears it. "And there is no shame in being a survivor - I'm a survivor and don't consider it derogatory, it's exactly what I am."

Bucky's brow knits up slightly and his attention is on you fully. Arguably the longest so far since he's been in this room with you. He looks as though he's searching for something and the answer is somehow embedded in you, and deep down, you want to give him whatever it is he's searching for.

You're a survivor, too. It's what made you good at your job. Being able to empathize to a degree with the individuals that come to you; To be able to share your own experiences and show the person sitting in front of you that they are not alone. People like to feel heard and understood. And sometimes the best way to for that is to sit with someone who's been through something similar.

Though you certainly didn't have experience as a prisoner of war who was genetically engineered...

His pink lips part as though he wants to speak, but whatever words were that die on Bucky's tongue when his mouth clamps shut and he finally averts his attention. You follow his gaze briefly to find him looking out the window parallel to him on his right. The light peeked in through the sheer curtains and lit the side of his face partially. You wonder if the sunlight makes him warm at all.

"Do you want me to draw the curtains for you, Bucky?" You offer, wondering if perhaps it's distracting to him.

Bucky shakes his head. "I'm not used to this." "Can you explain what 'this' is?" You ask, gently prompting him in hopes he keeps talking. "I, uhm..." His voice trails - clearly searching for the words. "You're... Calm. I don't entirely know how to explain it. We haven't been talking that long but I was, uh, intimidated to meet you. My precious therapy experiences haven't been the best..." It's the most he's said in a single sitting, you're impressed.

"And that's alright - sometimes not every therapist works out. Many people struggle to understand that therapy is not a 'one size fits all' matter. Sometimes we have to feel out situations and feel out people. If you decide at any point you're no longer comfortable speaking with me, I understand and will be more than happy to help you find another therapist that can specialize in your concerns." Always deliberate as to not call Bucky's situation 'problems' or 'what's wrong'. The last thing you'd want is for him to feel as though he is the root problem in his life. He's not.

"Thank you," the man murmurs softly, and you can tell it's another moment he's unsure what to say. Even the words feel as though it took quite a deal of effort to muster from Bucky. That's okay - sometimes people need to warm up. You're not surprised in the least that Bucky isn't an open book, you wouldn't be if you went through even half of what he did.

"...I'll tell you what," You begin, Bucky's attention drawing right back to you rather than the world outside the glass. "How about we start small, you and I, okay? We don't have to touch anything heavy yet, we can start simple."

"Simple?" Bucky echoes.

"Mhm," a confident nod from you, "I hope I don't sound rude at all, but I can tell you're someone who's carrying a whole lot more than they let on."

That earns a skeptical look from Bucky. You wonder in a brief moment where you potentially lost him when he answers that question for you:

"I'm sure you can." The response comes out almost irritated. No elaboration.

For a moment your mind scrambles, wondering, before it clicks. Still, you encourage Bucky to use his words. "What do you mean?"

A long sigh comes through his nose. "Oh, c'mon," he tries, but you simply look expectantly. Bucky needs to communicate, if they have no form of communication, they have nothing. "Y'know, everyone seems to know about me. Everything with HYDRA..." His expression is progressively hardening; He's lumping you with everyone else. You see it. Even if Bucky doesn't realize what he's doing, he's trying to build that wall again. Brick himself out and separate himself.

"No," You reply, "I only know what you want to share with me, Bucky. I didn't follow your story as it was happening - though I'd be lying if I said I was entirely clueless. Whatever I knew prior to meeting you today, though, doesn't matter. I want to know you. Not what everyone else's perception of you, is. Consider us strangers."

Then, as if to prove your point, you shift forward even more in your seat. Uncrossing your legs and sitting them flat on the floor as you offer your right hand out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky, I'm Dr. Y/N." Maybe the notion seems silly - and it is, honestly. You've both been talking this long.

Bucky is a little taken aback by the gesture; Blinking at you cluelessly for a moment before he huffs again. This time, his half-hearted grin doesn't look so bitter when he offers his right hand out tentatively. A ginger shake, as though he's scared he's going to break you, and the leather of his glove is warm against your palm.

While he doesn't verbally reciprocate the gesture, his expression speaks for him. A conversation without words.

It's clear that it's a bit more comforting to Bucky. For a brief moment he seemed as though he was ready to leave without coming back, but with quick thinking, you're relieved to have reeled him in once more.

"Anything about you outside of this room means nothing to me," you promise. "It's up to you how much you share. No one else."

Bucky's smile pulls just a tad bit wider, and you consider it a victory.

"We'll start simple," You repeat, pulling your hand from his to pick up the notepad on the table beside you. Flipping to a clean page and clicking your pen - you don't miss the way Bucky looks at you almost worriedly. As if you've picked up a weapon when in reality it's a pen and paper.

"I'd like you to find a nice journal that you like. One that you won't be afraid to write in, and one that you'll feel comfortable using. Next week when we see each other, I'd like you to bring it with you." You effortlessly speak while your pen scrawls away on the small lines sheet in front of you - your handwriting reads out on the paper, 'BRING A NOTEBOOK THAT YOU'RE COMFORTABLE WITH USING :)'

You tear the paper from the metal rings that bind it and pass it over to Bucky. He takes it wordlessly, looking at the piece of paper in his hands.

"That's it...?" Bucky ponders aloud. "That's it." Another gentle smile you wear. "Journaling is an extremely useful tool for going through our feelings and helping us take a step back and breathe. It can help us avoid dramatizing situations unintentionally, and it can help us develop a sense of mindfulness and gratitude. You don't need to write anything in it just yet, but if you'd like to decorate it, I won't stop you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable to begin writing in it."

"...Dr. Raynor didn't have me keep a journal," the soldier murmurs. "I'm not Dr. Raynor." you answer simply.

Your first session with Bucky seems to go well on all accounts. Sure there were a few brief tense moments, but you like to hope he'll return. At the end of the day, that's Bucky's decision. If he chooses to continue with you as his therapist, though, you want to help him in any way he can.

He doesn't know it yet, but you're determined. By the end of your time together, you want to have helped Bucky obtain a new perspective and help him live. Not simply survive.

After he leaves your office, you make sure to fill your schedule in for the same time next week.

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

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A feeling.

This was requested by the lovely @ben-c-group-therapy who asked for this:

< Hi! So I’d like to request a story between Nick and reader. Reader is Nick’s pregnant wife who gets kidnapped and held most likely due to a case Nick had been involved with putting the person away for etc. (of course that’s up to you lol.) She and baby would be fine just she would have some bruises or something from where they tied her or whatever. Idk. I don’t have enough courage to write it and I wanted to come to you with it. If you like the idea I’d love to read it! Thanks!>

Hope this hits the spot for you lovely and it’s what you were looking for. A I bet you could absolutely write something like this and it would be amazing.

Warning: angst, a lot of angst, talks of SVU cases, talks of kidnapping, happy ending and soft soft Nick. The pinch of Spanish that’s in there, sorry if its wrong I used google.

WC: 1770

Enjoy x

Nick had been day dreaming since he got back to his desk after court that morning, he hadn’t been this happy in a long time and he was finally starting to feel more relaxed now your maturity leave had started, you had only been married for 6 months before the two pink lines showed up and you were both looking forward to adding to your existing family. He knew you had an appointment with your OBGYN that lunch time that he couldn’t go to because he was in court.

But as he sat at his desk, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that was filling him. His phone started to buzz in his pocket and when he pulled it out, he frowned his brows at the doctors office number flashing on it, confused at why they were calling, you weren’t due for another 2 weeks,

“Hello, Nick Amaro”

“Mr Amaro, its Jill, Y/N didn't show up for her appointment today, I have tried to call her cell but she didn’t answer. Have you heard from her?”

All colour drained from his face and he froze just as Liv walked out of her office and Sonny jumped up from his chair walking to Nick and taking the phone off him to find out what was going on. Sonny hung up after talking to Jill and turned to Liv, Amanda and Fin filling them in. Nick was looking ahead, fear filling him and everyone tried not to show how worried they were as well, it wasn’t like you not to show for an appointment and even if you didn’t Nick always knew why you weren’t going. Sonny grabbed Nick’s shoulder and shook him to snap him out of his head,

“Come on man, I’ am sure she is having a nap, we all know how tired she is. She only has 2 weeks left. We’ll go and check on her, ok?”

Sonny drove as fast as he could to your apartment building, they rode the lift up to your floor while Amanda and Fin worked with TARU to track your phone as you still weren’t answering and Liv made some calls around to local hospitals and your family to see if you were at any or if they had seen you.

Nick and Sonny rushed out the lift door down the hall to the front door. At first it looked like it was shut but when Nick tried to put his key into the lock, the door opened up. He raised an eye brow at Sonny trying to hold back tears and they both reached for their weapons, drawing them and started to walk into the apartment. Nick had to remember to breath at the state of it and tried to push away the horrible feeling that washed over him as his eyes scanned around your shared home. Sonny’s eyes blew wide at the mess around, the whole place was trashed and there was a smashed coffee cup with coffee pooling around it on the floor.

They both searched the apartment finding you nowhere, Nick yelling your name at the top of his lungs, but he panicked even more when he walked into the bedroom and found photos spread out on the bed of Nick with a recent victim, who had to go into hiding after testifying against her FBI husband,

“Carisi” Nick shouted trying to hide the fear in his voice. Sonny came rushing through the door and his eyes set on the photos, and he too had to try and hide the panic that bolted through him,

“I’ll call Liv” Sonny pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the call to her.

The next few hours where a blur and Nick found it hard to focus worrying if you and the baby were ok. TURU and the FBI agents sergeant finally found the location on where you were and they were getting ready to move in, Nick given strict instructions to wait at the car. Liv, Sonny and FBI were busting into the front of the old factory and Amanda, Fin and SWAT were getting ready to move in from the back.

Nick had seen first hand what this guy was capable of, you had as well, it was the last case you worked on before your maternity leave started and you knew how much Nick was there for the wife and helped her get out with her kids. He kicked himself for not knowing this was coming, and now you had been gone for hours, heavily pregnant and although he was trying to prepare himself for what he could be walking into, he also knew you were strong and he was hoping for nothing but the best for the whole situation.

They all moved in as quickly, but quietly as possible. As they walked into the big room, Liv and Sonny saw you in the middle of the room tied to a chair still in your pj’s, rope around your wrists to the chair arms and duct tape on your mouth. Sonny could see your tears in the shine of the sun from the windows behind you and the FBI agent was screaming in your face and holding something up to you throat,

“Stop, police” Amanda’s voice filled the room.

Shots where fired and you squeezed your eye’s shut, sobbing hearing the shots being rung out of the room and fading away into the background. As soon as Nick heard the shots, he did what he was told not to do and he ran as fast as his legs could carry him into the factory. It didn’t take long for him to find you sitting in the middle of room shaking and crying,

“Y/N, mi amor” his voice echoed through the room.

Your eyes sprung open and you sobbed uncontrollably watching as Nick ran towards you dropping to his knees in front of the chair undoing the rope on your wrists as quickly as he could. As Nick undid one rope he saw the deep marks around your wrist from how tight the rope was around you. He then moved onto the other one and when he pulled off the rope, you were bleeding slightly. Rage filled him even more when he looked up your arm just under your sleeve and saw a bruise from where you had been grabbed too hard,

“It’s ok Y/N, I’ am here now, you're safe. You’re ok. Baby, you’re ok” Nick repeated over and over till he reached up pulling the tape off your mouth.

You launched onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tight and he did the same wrapping one arm around your middle tight and his other rested on your large belly, tears spilling from his eyes when he felt the baby kick his hand,

“Nick” you sobbed squeezing your arms around him tighter.

Nick kissed all over the side of your face, the hand around you rubbing over your back and his other rubbing over your belly,

“It’s ok, I’ am here my love. I got you”

Without pulling out of your embrace, Nick moved to stand up, pulling you up with him and he scooped you up carrying you out to EMT’s. Nick spent the rest of the day with you at the hospital while you and the baby were checked to make sure you were both fine and getting your wrists patched up, Amanda and Nick’s mum went back to the apartment to pack bags for you both, Amanda dropping the bags and his mum back at her place where you were both going to stay for a while and Sonny organised a cleaner for your apartment for when you were both ready to go back. Liv told Nick to start his leave to keep an eye on you, while she, Fin and Rafael worked on the case against the FBI agent to make sure the book was thrown at him harder this time.

You were finally back at Nick’s mum’s sitting on the spare bed after having a shower and his mum making your favourite dish, Nick just got out of the shower and he was making you a tea. He walked over to sit next to you on the bed, sitting the cup on the bedside table and he sat down right next to you, his arm going around you and his hand resting on your belly.

You moved yourself to lay into his side, his arm coming down to rub up and down your arm, kissing the top of your head and then resting his head on top of yours, a comfortable silence filling the room till Nick broke it,

“We will stay here as long as you want to, I’ll go and pick up the bassinet and the new born stuff tomorrow and we will look for another apartment we can move into as soon as we can, a secure one this time”

“I like that idea”

You sat up off him and your eyes locked with his, you both sat there for a moment looking deep into each others eyes. Your hand rose up to his cheek, a smile pulled to his face and he lent into your hand,

“You were on my mind the whole time” you whispered.

“You were on mine too. Everything was out of my control, I wanted to go out to find you, I felt so helpless. I needed you to be safe” a tear rolled down his cheek and landed on your thumb “I couldn’t lose you” you both giggled when the baby kicked hard and Nick lent down kissing your belly and muttering into it “You too, mi pequeña niña, Te quiero” Nick kissed your belly again.

Nick sat back up and rested his forehead on yours, both of his hands moving to the sides of your head. Nick pulled back slightly, his hands still on your head and yours on his cheek. Nick titled his head to the side looking into your eyes again,

“Nick, kiss me, Please?”

A small smile pulled to his face again and he licked his lips before he closed the gap and his lips met with yours, fitting together. The kiss never deepened, it was soft, slow and loving. Nick peaked your lips, then along your cheek till he hugged you tightly in his arms pulling you into his warm solid body as he sat back on the bed head. You laid into him, your head resting under his chin,

“I love you mi amor, so much”

“I love you too babe”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

#nick amaro #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #detective nicolas amaro #nicolas amaro #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan #svu x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Stargazing

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: A year after the events that took place at the Bakers’ residence and the three years of Mia being missing, the Winters spouses have finally been healed enough to start getting back into a regular lively rhythm, nevertheless haunted by the nightmare they lived through.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Sorry you’ve had to wait so long for your request but here it finally is! They deserved so much better and I’ll never stop saying that! Sorry for the brief rant, still, hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Holding Ethan’s hand tightly, Mia follows his instructions to keep her gaze down at the ground and avoid looking up as much as possible. She’s been having a hard time containing the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip a lot to prevent it from showing. Same as she’s had a hard time keeping quiet with her guessing games of where Ethan’s taking her. The man’s unbreakable though, never once was he tempted to let her in on what he’s planned.

It’s been a year since the Baker incident and all the couple has done is switch from one coping mechanism to another. They got stuck in a sort of therapy-work-therapy cycle where they threw themselves in their work and periodically went to their psychiatric appointments, never daring to nudge the topic at home amongst themselves. It was enough that the whole night has remained as a dark cloud hanging over their heads, addressing it has simply been to painful so they’ve steered clear of the topic the best they could.

However, an important thing to note about this coping cycle they created is that it drove all the other mechanics in their lives and their relationship to become routinely and mechanic as well. There was little to no feeling in all they did - not that they ever did much together except have dinner and sometimes breakfast, both of them fully indulged in their work the rest of the day. Work became their therapy eventually, leaving little time for one another and for fixing what’s been broken between them. This conclusion bothered them both to no end but neither wanted to address it out of fear of disturbing the other.

Luckily, Ethan didn’t feel the need to bring it up before taking action.

“Here we are!“ He announces eventually, causing Mia to snap her head upwards without a second to spare, curious eyes doing the best they can to take in the dark surroundings.

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t have any problem with the dark. What happened back in Louisiana didn’t give her a phobia of the dark or of ships as her therapist initially thought she’d develop. However, she’s got a huge fear of bugs and insects now - especially mosquitos. Count on her husband carrying anti bug spray wherever they go - now is no exception.

As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of their surroundings, it doesn’t take her a while to realize they’re in an open yet secluded field. She’s not the slightest bit surprised by where he’s taken her, in fact, she recognizes it immediately. It’s the spot of their first official date.

“Who knew going to that dorm party would be the best thing I’d do in my life.“ He mumbles under his breath, admiring the sparkles in her eyes as she takes in the beautiful field bit by bit, letting the reel of memories play back, taking her all the way back to that first year of college, that fateful night when they met, followed by the night they came to this field.

“Who knew overcoming my fear of heights at an early age would’ve helped me find the man I’d eventually marry.“ She replies, turning to look at him, their gazes locking in place, both of them no reminiscing on those events they hadn’t recalled in a very long time.

2006

The humidity doesn’t suggest that the summer months have already ended. In fact, the air is still as unbreathable as it was in July and August, making the students who have to return to their studies super conflicted, longing for those beach days with little to no responsibilities. Given that no one is ready for the school year to start, the professors included, the first few weeks of college have been rather stress-free for Ethan. Well, that is if you don’t include the agony of moving into college as a freshman from an entirely different state.

Why he chose to go to college in Texas is a question he still doesn’t have a proper answer to. It was an impulsive, basically overnight decision, one that rattled his parents to no end when he announced it. However, having his own income and savings for college purposes, they couldn’t really do much in stopping him but they didn’t support him either. They kept trying to change his mind until the very last day but alas he stood his ground and now here he is, in his college dorm, trying to read a book while there’s a raging party going on just two floors above. The music is so loud though that is sounds more like it’s taking place in his closet instead.

His roommate went up to help set the party up, only putting mild effort into getting his Cali-boy roommate to tag along and join the shenanigans which Ethan appreciated. Parties have never really been his scene so he knew he would’ve kept refusing no matter how much he tried getting him up there.

Finding the read hopeless due to the distractions, Ethan ditches the book and lays back on his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like a fish out of water, ready to suffocate any minute. The AC in the dorm is faulty so it’s not serving its purpose properly, leaving the air at the same temperature as it would be had the device not been turned on at all. He’s stranded on things to do, feeling awfully caged in this new environment without any proper entertainment, going even as far as to second-guess if his parents were maybe right all along.

Fortunately for him, just then, his roommate bursts in, humming along to the song that’s currently being played at the party, never missing a tune even in his clearly intoxicated state.

“Hey Winters, aren’t you Californians supposed to know of a good time? You’re disappointing me right now.“ Jared slurs, laughing a bit as he leans against the wall to keep himself to his feet.

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Thought I’d be a party animal? Sorry for the letdown.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, “Come on, Cali. You have two semesters to be sulking around, it’s too early to start. Listen, one beer and thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking you for. If you like it you can stick around. If not, feel free to leave. Just please give it a shot. How else are you supposed to make friends?”

Ethan stops to contemplate for a second, weighing his options. Jared takes this as a hopeful sign, seeing as how his offer wasn’t immediately turned down as it was the first time. Finally, the blond sighs in defeat: “Ok, but thirty minutes only.“ He says as he slides off the bed, briefly looking at himself in the mirror and deeming his appearance decent enough for a dorm party. As a very new student, he’d like to make a good first impression on his classmates but given that they’re all probably wasted, he’s not stressing too much over his looks at the moment.

Following Jared up to the floor of the party, he’s immediately handed a beer which he accepts with little hesitation. His roommate goes around introducing him to a few people before he disappears with some girl he claims has been his on-again-off-again girlfriend since sophomore year of high school - Sarah. Ethan, of course, doesn’t stop him despite hating the ide of finding himself stuck alone in a crowd of people he’s seeing for the first time in his life. Still, he sticks to the deal: thirty minutes and a beer...ok, two beers, but they’ve done nothing to make him enjoy this party.

So, off he goes to search for Jared to tell him he’s leaving. Thinking he saw the dark haired girl he went off with going up the stairs to the roof, he quickly follows.

Little does he know, that’s not the dark haired girl he’s looking for. That’s Mia

Mia, the rowdy, outgoing Texas tomboy who, unlike Ethan, thoroughly enjoys going to parties and having a good time with her friends and a few drinks. However, even a party animal such as herself sometimes needs to take a breather especially when people are smoking cigarettes as though they’re inhaling air and she’s never tried a cigarette in her life and is actually quite against the idea. She found this rooftop to be her prefect hideaway whenever she felt like her surroundings would suffocate her. Students were strictly instructed that climbing up there would earn them a penalty but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - She’s been frequenting the roof already and it’s been barely a week of her fresh start in college. Luckily, she got over her fear of heights at the tender age of twelve so this journey to quite a high point doesn’t pose as much stress as it would’ve about a decade ago.

As she lies on the floor, looking up at the starry night sky above, she nearly jumps out of her skin when another voice calls out to her presumably though it’s not using the correct name.

“Hey, um, S-Sarah? Have you seen Jared?“

Mia turns her head as she sits up, one eyebrow raised as she takes a good look at the silhouette which this voice belongs to. It’s pretty dark so even if she knew him, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him but judging by the voice, this is not someone she’s familiar with. And judging by the accent, this guy is not from around here.

“I’m not Sarah, but if you’re looking for Jared Letterwood, I can guarantee he’s in Sarah’s dorm.“ Mia chuckles, “I’d know. Sarah’s my roommate.“

Ethan cringes at the thought, “Yikes, you’ve got it rough. I mean, Jared’s my roommate but so far I haven’t had to leave the dorm for him to...you know. Hope I never have to.” Suddenly, an idea strikes him, “Wait, where are you gonna sleep tonight?”

She laughs, lying back down with her arms folded behind her head, “Right here.” She drags out the words as she adjusts her position a little, eyes fluttering closed. “Stargazing helps me fall asleep. The whole ambience up here is just...perfect, you know. Jared and Sarah are really doing me a favor.”

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Call me crazy, but I’ve never stargazed in my life. I don’t know, never really saw the whole appeal. Sure, it’s cool to see in a movie or whatever, but it’s got no real purpose in real life. Not that I’m trying to bash your hobby or anything...”

Before the clueless blond could finish his statement, Mia’s already snapped up in a sitting position, giving him a narrow-eyed glare he can’t really see in the darkness. Her hand taps the spot next to her, “Don’t knock until you try it, Cali boy. Come’ere, see what you’re missing out on.”

Though reluctant, Ethan takes a few steps forward, stopping for a second to ask: “Wait, how’d you know I’m Californian?” Regardless of his confusion, he sits his ass down as he was told, awkwardly laying down so that there’s half a foot or less between their bodies so he doesn’t accidentally touch her and run the risk of freaking her out.

“I know a lot of things, Cali. Unfortunately, your name isn’t one of them. That being said, either you tell me it, or I’ll have to keep calling you Cali.“ She says teasingly.

“Ethan. My name’s Ethan.“ He says through a sigh, unable to contain the smile that spreads across his face.

A smile mimicking his appears on her face as well, “Nice to meet you, Ethan. The name’s Mia.“

Needless to say, the following morning Ethan woke up still on the roof, and surprisingly and terrifyingly enough, with the girl he barely met the night prior in his arms. Under the light of the newly rising day he could examine her features better, taking in her absolute beauty, her pale features contrasting her dark as the night hair. She’s still asleep so he can’t see her eyes but he has no doubt they are as beautiful as she is. Everything about her looks so delicate yet sharp simultaneously. And he’s simply in awe.

To avoid any awkwardness in case she wakes up, he falls back asleep, not even trying to remove his arms from around her body, silently hoping she won’t kick his ass for it. The next time he wakes up, an undecided amount of time later, he’s alone on the rooftop. Alone with a note that says: ‘Did you like it? If yes, I got a better stargazing spot to show ya. You know where to find me

~ M‘

“And boy, was I missing out on something.“ Ethan whispers, gently running his fingers through his wife’s hair as they lay in that same field she was referring to in her note to him, gazing up at the stars, limbs intertwined, bodies completely collided.

“Told ya. Stargazing is incredible, ain’t it?“ Mia replies, snuggling closer though that’s simply impossible.

Her husband chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise, “That’s not really what I meant.”

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t look at him, “Oh? Then what did you mean?”

With a content sigh, he replies, “I was missing out on having you in my arms, falling asleep and waking up by your side.“ He says, his lips planting a gentle kiss at the top of her head that has her melting in his embrace.

Mia’s not the romantic nor cheesy half of this relationship, quite the opposite, but she feels emotions to a way deeper level than Ethan would imagine her feeling. So, thankful to the darkness, Mia allows her eyes to gloss over with emotional tears as she rises up to collide her lips with his in a soft and tender kiss.

“I missed you so much, Mia.“ Ethan whispers when they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I promise to never make you miss me again, baby.“ She replies in a tone as hushed as his. As though they are both afraid someone would overhear this vow of theirs and try to force them to break it.

“That’s impossible.“ He says with a soft chuckle, “I always miss you at least a little.“

Mia hums in response, “Well, right now, you don’t have to miss me at all. I’m all yours. You’re the only thing on my mind, Mr. Winters.“

Even in the dark, she sees the grin that lights up his face, “As you are the only thing on mine, Mrs. Winters.” With that, their lips reestablish their contact, this time maintaining it longer, making it more passionate than before.

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stayevildarling · 3 years

Text

Sally McKenna x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - A little help Pt 5

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smoking, mention of drugs, hints of smut, cursing, panic attacks, anxiety

A/N: This is an eight-part story, hope you enjoy

Rushing through the busy halls of university, your mind is racing, the thoughts so loud it sounds like bees in your head and the thoughts just won't stop buzzing, causing your vision to blur slightly, ears ringing and trembling hands, the feeling of panic and losing control of the situation any moment. You rush into the nearest bathroom, bursting the nearest door open and quickly closing it, dropping your bag and books onto the floor and sliding down the wall, trying to calm down.

Shakily you try and reach for your phone to distract yourself, maybe playing a video or maybe even messaging them but you feel woozy with every movement of your body and so you close your eyes and abandon the thought of getting your phone out of your bag. ''Breathe idiot'' you remind yourself and you try a technique that has occasionally worked in the past before, whenever you felt a panic attack coming.

''Breathe in 4-3- nope nope not working too much too loud'' you try but fail miserably at keeping your breathing under control. ''Shit'' you mutter, noticing that the feeling isn't passing and the panic only growing but how the hell did you end up hyperventilating, sitting on the bathroom floor of your university?

After Sally's relapse a few weeks back, you taking her to Mina's work and going cold-turkey, things have changed and somehow took a more unexpected turn than you expected to. Sally struggled and she struggled badly at first, she couldn't cope, constantly having you or Wilhemina around, not able to get out of the house, only on walks where you two would accompany her. There were times when she felt hatred towards you two, but not really you two more what you are doing to her or rather keeping Sally from doing to herself. There were a lot of sleepless nights, you and Wilhemina taking turns, watching her and guiding her through this journey of detoxing her body from the drugs. It was constant ups and downs, it was really hard at first with all the withdrawal symptoms and the times she would just be throwing up everything she would eat or drink and you and Wilhemina often debating whether you need to get doctors involved.

There were the good days when caffeine and nicotine helped Sally's urges and you three actually had really good days together, snuggled up on the sofa, watching everyone's favorite movies and enjoying the quiet and each other's company. Then things started going downhill, with Wilhemina having to go into work again and you looking after Sally while she was still at home , blogging from home and posting a lot to distract herself from the withdrawal symptoms.

Everything went okay at first, Mina leaving early in the morning like she usually would, with a lunch bag you packed for her the night before, just like you usually would. You woke up, snuggling closer to Sally and enjoying some quality time with her, before she sat on the sofa, working on her blog and you decided to carry on finishing your thesis because deadlines were coming up. You two sat on the sofa together in comfortable silence, just working and it was almost calming but just almost.

You were unaware that day, that Sally was fighting the most recent and hardest battle with her addiction and that her body was craving something more than just caffeine to fight this empty feeling. Maybe it was the fact that Wilhemina had to go to work and Sally knowing you are different than Wilhemina, not as strong, not as strict.

At first you thought everything was okay and when she got up, you absent-mindedly asked what she was doing, only for her to tell you she is going to the toilet. You didn't think too much of it until you heard things smashing, being thrown across the bathroom and so you instantly rushed inside the bathroom, only to find a very overwhelmed Sally, searching through every draw and cabinet to find something, anything even Mina's painkillers, just anything so she could feel release and at peace but you and Mina were smarter than that beforehand and hid any potential dangers.

''Sally'' you pleaded, understanding immediately what was going on. ''I don't fucking care Y/N I need something'' she screamed in your face while tears streamed down her cheeks. ''Where are your cigarettes?'' you asked feeling helpless, although you are very aware that cigarettes and the stuff Sally is used to, are very different. ''I ran out'' she admitted and you took a step closer to her, putting your hands on her shoulders, your eyes begging her to calm down.

''We can go and buy some right now, let's get dressed okay?'' you asked and it took two more meltdowns before she agreed to leave the house with you.

From that day on, things took a more positive turn however and you and Wilhemina got Sally to agree to go to group counseling therapy, where she would sit with a group of people, twice a week to talk about her feelings and experiences.

At first she really didn't want to go and begged you to go with her and of course you did. Sally settled in surprisingly well and she actually started looking forward to those meetings, you and Wilhemina insisted on driving her and somebody would always take her there and pick her up again after an hour. Whenever you drove her for the first few weeks, you would actually wait in the parking lot, just making sure she doesn't just pretend to go inside and leave again as soon as you or Wilhemina left.

But she didn't and you didn't learn the reason for this until a while later, because the aspect of socialising at these sessions really helped Sally. Having a group of strangers there, sharing similar stories and her finally understanding her behavior and learning that she isn't responsible for this and that it's a cycle that is very hard to escape, especially when attempting to fight it alone. She would regularly walk back to the car with the happiest smile, reaching another milestone, one week clean, two weeks clean and soon it will be one month.

Sally would talk about what she learned that day, what the others shared, she talked about someone there relapsing and how it made her feel. To motivate her further you bought this calendar and hung it the kitchen where she can mark her appointments but also her milestones.

Just when Sally, one of the two most important people of your life started doing better, you still aware that she isn't magically cured and still on this hard path of battling and fighting her demons, your other lover Wilhemina at last cracked under the pressure of the past few weeks.

With Wilhemina it's different than Sally, you would never find her broken and sad on the sofa after crying herself to sleep. You would never have her admit something is wrong, you would never hear a single complaint coming from her and that's the dangerous thing with the redhead. She is a master at hiding and shielding her emotions, of course, you got her to open up gradually and break those walls down, to get her to open up, get her to be honest, and communicate feelings or things on her mind, just like she would expect of you.

It all started with her physical therapy appointments, for years she has attended those for her back, she would do exercises there or do them at home. You being the mastermind at planning every aspect of your and their lives, you also wrote her appointments in the calendar and usually Wilhemina and Sally would tick of their appointments when finished but inspecting the calendar a bit closer one afternoon, you noticed that she hasn't ticked one off in a very long time.

''Maybe she forgot but went there'' you tried convincing yourself, remembering the many times she has told you she went to an appointment or did the exercises at home when you and Sally would be at work. It wasn't until two days later when you found out the truth, after Wilhemina calling you from work

''Little one, are you free?'' she asked and even though you were sitting in the university library, working of course you said you are because you know whenever Wilhemina calls and needs a favor it's urgent. ''Yes what is it Mina?'' you asked

''Can you call the doctors I need my pain medication again, I'm heading into a meeting now but I can pick up the prescription tomorrow morning'' she let you know and of course you did as she asked.

However, when ringing the doctors office, that you have sometimes rang or been to before when Mina needed something, they informed you that Wilhemina shouldn't be receiving any pain medication for another week, because she should still have some left and on top of that they informed you that she hadn't attended her physical therapy appointments in a while.

When the call ended you felt this silence, despite sitting outside of your university, hearing students talk, cars drive by and even some bird chirping, it was silent. Because that moment was a wakeup call, a slap from reality right in the face, reminding you that Sally isn't the only one fighting her battles even if she fights them more openly.

''It can't be a coincidence'' you tried reminding yourself and as you drove home that day your anxiety was so high, fearing Wilhemina's reaction and confronting her because you knew deep down already, no matter how you would possibly say it, she will be mad.

''For fucks sake Y/N I have attended those shitty appointment and I don't have medication left, those doctors are useless'' she cursed and neither you nor Sally have seen her like that in a while. You debated whether to fight her on this, get her to lash out but in the end admit the truth, let you and Sally in so you could be there for her and comfort her, just that never happened.

''It doesn't matter I will call them myself in the morning'' she told you. This has now been about a week ago and things became a little strange at home, Wilhemina and you wouldn't talk as much, of course, you talked, greeting each other and small talk but there was this huge wall standing between you two, none of you knowing whether to start and break it down.

Your mind being occupied by something entirely different, made it difficult to focus on Wilhemina or Sally in this past week, of course you asked them how they are, you listened, you made them baths, you did anything but university pulled you right into this ocean again, waves of responsibilities and deadlines crashing right at you.

Maybe you pushing away your own problems, stress and anxiety for over a month now, solely focussing on your two girlfriends and their wellbeing, reality and the lack of self care is finally hitting you, causing you to almost collapse on the bathroom floor of your university.

The sad part is that you did it, you finished your thesis about three days ago and today is finally the day where you are allowed to hand it in and finally have the stress come to an end, with no more obligatory classes now and you just having a break until you recieve your grades.

For the past five days or so, you haven't been able to sleep, eat or drink a lot. Of course you would occasionally force yourself to have a bite or some water or fall asleep, sitting in Mina's office in the middle of the night, reading over your thesis and work again and again. Usually before these things Mina would read over it, making sure you didn't get anything mixed up or any spelling mistakes, from all the hours of writing, researching. But within this past week, things have been so strange that you didn't want to ask her.

Still hyperventilating you are pulled out of the buzzing and loud thoughts when you hear your phone ringing. Closing your eyes, you hold your hand out and try reaching for your backpack and you manage to find a strap and pull it onto your body. Momentarily you wrap your arms around your bag as if it was a shield, stopping this crushing feeling in your chest, the pain and the thoughts, as if bullets of thoughts are being shot against you and your backpack shielding you.

But the vibration of your phone is tugging you out of this state yet again, even just for a moment. Somehow you manage to open the zip of your bag and you reach for your phone, the vibration making it easy to find with your eyes still closed, the dizzy feeling still too strong. Finally you manage to open your eyes and see Sally's photo through a blurry vision and you press the green button on your screen and the speaker button next, thinking it will be too much to actually lead the phone to your ear.

''Hi pumpkin'' her angelic voice rings through the speakers and somehow, even in this dark and scary moment you manage to smile. ''He- hey'' you manage to say and you can hear ruffling in the background

''I'm just going to one of my meetings and I was wondering how my pumpkin is doing'' she says and the crushing feeling in your chest, replaces with a fluttering feeling, you feel whenever being referred to as either their little one or pumpkin.

''By the way me and Mina were wondering when is your thesis due?'' she asks while lighting a cigarette in the car. ''I- today'' you say, feeling your breathing very slowly calming down and going to a more normal state.

''Today?'' she asks a bit shocked and she pauses for a moment, confused why you didn't mention that before, knowing how important that is to you. ''Yeah'' you mumble ''How come you didn't tell us, I could have taken you there today pumpkin or Mina could have read it again'' she asks.

Opening your eyes now, you see the time and realize you have to hand in your thesis now so you quickly try and prop yourself up, Sally's voice still right there, making you feel save and relaxed. ''I'm sorry I gotta go I have to hand it in now'' you explain and Sally nods before saying ''Good luck, love you pumpkin''.

After standing up and grabbing your bag slowly, you hold onto the bathroom walls, the last bit of stability that you have right now to hold on to, to shield you and keep you from losing control. After taking one more steady and deep breath, you unlock the door and walk towards the sink, putting some cold water on your wrists and also your face.

You open your backpack and grab a lemon gum because the sour taste usually distracts you from whatever is bothering you and the buzzing thoughts. Finally leaving the bathroom, you walk past the classrooms and hallways filled with students, for what kind of feels like one of the last times.

Your time at university flashes before your eyes in this moment, you see the main entrance and you remember the many times Sally or Mina would take you here on a monday morning after spending a beautiful weekend with them and them not having to go into work until the day later.

The places you stood, like your locker for instance, where Sally would sometimes call you and ask for help or Mina calling you and asking about your day and classes. You remember wandering these halls a few years back, before meeting Sally and Wilhemina and feeling confused as to how on earth you could ever get rid of this lonely feeling or the little skip of your heart, whenever you saw a couple kiss or hold hands. Then just about a year after, you found them and you then knew what it feels like to be held, to be kissed or to intertwine your hands with theirs.

''Oh hi there'' you hear Miss Anderson's voice and suddenly you snap out of your memories and thoughts. ''Hello Miss'' you reply with a polite smile and as you look at her you can see her features changing. ''Oh dear you don't look so well, are you okay?'' she asks and you simply nod, not really wanting to go into any details about your panic attacks or the state you were in moments before, but you can't deny how pale you are and how shaken you seem.

''Have you handed in your thesis yet?'' she asks but you shake your head ''I was just on the way'' you explain and she gives you an emphatic smile before saying ''I was just on my way over there too, come on'' and you follow her to the classroom where you are meant to hand it in.

As you arrive, you see some of your classmates, leaving the classroom, high-fiving each other and leaving with such a relieved and carefree expression, all the assignments, all the stress and exams finally over and the many sleepless nights now feeling like they were worth something.

You are greeted by Miss Parker ''Hi dear'' she greets you and you open your backpack and hand her your thesis with shaky hands, still not completely recovered from the panic attack. She looks at you, then Miss Anderson while retrieving the big folder that you carefully picked, every font, every word filled with so much detail. ''You just need to sign here now'' she explains and you do and she gives you a document after, that confirms you handed the biggest part of your entire work and time here, in now.

''You should probably get home and get some rest after all this exhausting time'' Miss Anderson suggests and you nod before Miss Parker jokingly says ''Oh come on she's young, she should be out celebrating'' and you smile at them before saying ''I will'' without explaining which suggestion you actually referred to and leaving the classroom with a polite smile.

#sally mckenna #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #ahs apocalypse #ahs fandom #american horror story #ahs icons #sally mckenna x wilhemina venable #sally mckenna x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs hotel #writing #watpad

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 3 years

Text

Being A Star (4)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Count: 2071

Warnings: Language as Steve would say

Author’s Note: Here’s the next chapter! Let me know what you think or if you want to be added to the tag for future chapters!

Becoming A Stark || Chapter One Being A Stark|| Masterlist

Life finally feels normal again. At least as much as it can for missing five years in the middle of your life, having a new sister, and living in a new house. But your dad is home which is the biggest thing. Dr. Cho is talking about having to send him to a specialist to deal with the after effects on his arm, but for now she’s let him come home with the sling holding the dead weight of his arm. The marks freak Morgan out so Tony has been wearing a lot of flannels over his arm so she doesn’t have to see it. You’re not supposed to know, but you overheard your parents talking about how Dr. Cho thinks most of your dad’s arm will probably need to be cut off. She hadn’t done it in hopes of saving it, but her messages about your dad’s case with the specialist said there is little hope that the arm can be saved. Especially since it’s causing your dad pain, which you didn’t know. You try to imagine your dad without his arm, but it just doesn’t seem right.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be asleep kiddo? You’ve got the second first day of ninth grade tomorrow?”

“In which I will be the only one starting the year since everyone else started last week.” You say with a roll of your eyes as Tony walks over to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Even so, you’re not one to stay up late on a school night unless you have homework and seeing as I know you already finished it…” He trails off. “Wanna talk about it?” You slide towards the left side of your bed to make room and Tony moves to sit next to you. His good arm wraps around your shoulder and you lean into the smell of him, cinnamon from his cologne and mint from his aftershave. The only scent missing was the smell of him being in the lab, but until he was cleared to work on things like his cars and other science projects, he was restricted from going into the garage.

“I, uh, heard you and Mom talking the other night.” You say softly. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were going back to your room after using the bathroom and had heard them from the top of the stairs.

“Heard us? Talking about?” Tony asks, not following what you’re talking about.

“Your arm. How they might cut it off.”

“Ah.”

“How you’re in pain.” You mutter the words.

“I wasn’t keeping that from you, if you’re up late feeling bad about overhearing it.” You look up at him. “Your mom and I were going to talk to you about it after meeting with the specialist. We didn’t want you to be worrying if you didn’t need to be.”

“I’m not up because I felt bad.” Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you pull at some of the skin there. “I don’t like that you’re in pain.”

“I feel the same way when you hurt kiddo. But that’s what this appointment is about. They think the stones did something to the tissue and nerves. They think it’s basically corrosive. So by taking the arm away, it would hopefully stop the pain.” Your eyebrows fall together as you think about this.

“But how would that affect everything else?”

“Well, I will have to use a prosthetic. And I’ll have to relearn how to do some stuff. But if it gets rid of the pain it will be worth it. Maybe Bucky will teach me all about having a detachable arm.”

“That guy who was bad but now isn’t, that’s a friend of Steve’s?” You ask, having heard the name but never having met the guy.

“That’s the one. He was brainwashed for a little bit into being a bad guy. But he’s all better now. I wouldn’t risk myself being around him if he wasn’t. And he did help us fight Thanos.” He smiles at you. “I think that makes him a good guy.”

“Fuck Thanos.” You mutter.

“Summed up my feelings entirely.” Tony says as his hand rubs your shoulder slightly.

“How do you just jump back into life after being gone for five years?” You ask the other question that has been simmering in your mind for the past few days. “Like my life just stopped? How do I get that back?”

“You seem to be doing a good job at getting it back so far. Hanging out with Mom and Morgan and your favorite old man.” He teases.

“Dad, I’m serious.” You lean into him as you let the words leave your lips. “The past couple weeks have… they felt like they are a part of my new life. But by going back to school, I’m having to be old me all over again? How do I just slip back into that?”

“New life?”

“My old life didn’t include a little sister or waiting for my dad to come home from being injured. It was a whole different thing. I’m in a new house, I haven’t had to do anything that seems like things I would have done before I just poofed.” You didn’t want to admit it, but you had been avoiding Peter partially for that reason. Peter was pre Blip. Morgan was post Blip. How do you make them go together?

“What things are you nervous about having to deal with?”

“I…. I’m scared it will all go away again.” You admit. Every day when you wake up, you feel like crying that you’re still there.

“Being scared is a normal reaction. We all get scared sometimes.”

“You’re Iron Man. You’re saying you get scared? You literally save the world.”

“I lost you. I lost half the universe. I wake up at night and think that you’re still gone. I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. There’s stuff from before the Blip that still causes me to have panic attacks. I get scared easily kiddo. I’m far from perfect at dealing with things.”

“And how do you deal with all of it?”

“I lean on Pepper. I hug you and Morgan as close as humanly possible. I tried therapy once, but should find a different doctor. I tinker. I focus on the things I can control.”

“So I should just keep going even if I’m scared?” Tony nods slowly.

“Is this fear why I haven’t seen a certain Spider-boy around?” You bite the inside of your cheek and don’t answer. “I may not like the idea of you dating people for selfish reasons, but I know he makes you happy. So maybe lean on him instead of pushing him away? Just a suggestion.”

“I…” You trail off, not knowing if you should voice the other thought going through your mind.

“You…?”

“Have you ever thought about how the world would look without you in it?”

“Sure, in a dark moment. Why do you ask?” Tony’s concerned but wants to see where you’re going with this.

“I left, and you guys just moved on. So what’s the point of slipping back into what I did pre Blip if everyone was fine without me?” You ask, not looking at your dad. You find you can’t meet his eyes after saying it.

“We continued living. But we didn’t move on.” Tony wishes he had two working arms so he could pull you into a tight hug and not let go.

“You had a whole other kid while I was gone. How is that not moving on?”

“Morgan was on her way before you Blipped.” You look up at your dad with all the confusion you’re feeling painted across your features. “If the Blip had happened seven weeks later, you would have Blipped knowing that you had a sibling on the way. The last thing we wanted to do after losing you, was try to replace you. And Morgan could never replace you.” He pulls you in closer with his good arm. “I came back from being lost in space with Nebula, thinking I was going to have to tell you I lost your boyfriend. Then I took my first step off the ship and my eyes were searching for you and Pep- hoping I didn’t lose my family. But the moment I saw Pepper’s eyes, I knew it. She didn’t even have to say it. And when I knew you were gone, my whole world fell apart. It felt like my heart had been ripped out. I was sure my lungs were being crushed. I couldn’t breathe. I had a panic attack in front of the remaining Avengers because we lost, but more importantly I lost you, my kid. It took a week before I could even talk to anyone besides Pep. Nearly a month before I could manage to talk about anything Avenger related. It hurt too much. I broke the one promise I swore I wouldn’t. I swore I would keep you safe and I hadn’t done that. I was across the galaxy as you faded into dust. So I promise you Y/N, we never moved on. We just did what we could to make losing you not hurt so much. We were far from fine without you.”

“I didn’t know.” You whisper, not knowing how much pain your dad had gone through. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should apologize, it should be me for not stopping the Blip from happening.”

“That’s not your fault though. You may be an Avenger, but the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders.” You pause before saying. “If I’m not allowed to apologize, then neither are you.”

“You’re making demands now?”

“Mmmhmm. You perfected time travel to bring me back. And you brought my boyfriend back, willingly nonetheless. So I say there’s nothing to apologize for. No apologizing.”

“Ok, no apologizing.” Tony leans against your head. Tony decides to bring up a more positive subject. “Morgan loves that you tell her actual bedtime stories.”

“Actual bedtime stories? What have you been telling her?”

“Once upon a time there was a Morguna who went to bed, the end.”

“That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard. No wonder she likes my stories better.” You shrug. “They’re not that special. Just stories I would have made up when I was her age.”

“Vivid imagination?” You nod.

“Still have one. It’s why I love reading. Imagining far off places and new things to see. It’s amazing.” You lean into your dad’s shoulder as you explain.

“Ever thought about writing your own?”

“Story?”

“Book.”

“I’ve… contemplated it before. But never actually given it a try. What if I have nothing to say?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“Wow, it’s cuddle time and I wasn’t invited?” Pepper stands barefoot in your doorway.

“There’s still room.” You pat the bed on the other side of you. Pepper smiles and comes to sit down next to you.

“What are we contemplating instead of sleeping?”

“Dad’s trying to convince me I should try to write a book.”

“You could write a book that is solely Morgan’s bedtime stories and I know you would have at least one reader.” Pepper agrees.

“That’s just made up… shit.” You shrug off your parents’ suggestions. “It’s not a real story.”

“It’s a real story to Morgan. The person who decides the story is worth it is the person who wants to read it. But if you want to do something completely different, that’s ok too. You have plenty of time to figure out what to do in life.” Pepper says. “But, it is getting late and you do have to get up early to drive into the city.”

“You were the ones that chose to move out of NYC proper. So really it’s your fault.” You joke.

“True, but either way, you need to get some sleep so you don’t fall asleep in class.” Tony kisses your cheek. Pepper stands up, but then leans over to give you one more hug and a kiss. “Get some sleep kiddo. Tomorrow is going to be fine.”

“Whatever you say Dad.” Tony pulls your quilt around you and tucks it in tight. “Love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart.”

“Love you kiddo.”

...A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch @skyfallstilinski @cutie1365 @a-mnd @youarethereasonimsmiling @thefemalestorywriter @krazykendraisnotinsane @cathy8taffy @letssee2468 @babyreads @riyanna @theatregeek @bubblebunbun @curls-freckles-books

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

strike wont let me tag

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fiction #tony stark #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark is a good dad #pepper potts #pepper potts is the worlds best mom #morgan stark #peter parker imagine #imanativeofswlondondahling #being a stark #becoming a stark

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that-one-gay-girl · 4 years

Text

Gone - Ch.2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1434

Summary: Y/n is still struggling to adjust to her new life. Sam and Dean want to help but don’t know how. Sometimes it takes the hardest times to turn things around.

Warnings: medical talk, sad dean, fluff

Recap:

In the next moment the damn burst and all the emotions and pain you’d been pushing down breaks through. “I love you, and you are going to get through this Y/n.” He tells you stroking your hair holding you as you cry.

“Dean, I'm useless, I’ll never hunt again, I can’t even take a damn shower!” you cry out.

Dean holds back tears of his own as he responds. “I’ve got you, shh…I’ve got you baby”

Now:

It had been three weeks since Y/n came home from the hospital, she barely moved from the bed, refusing food, company, or help. Dean hated seeing you like this, but he also hated himself for not being able to help you. He hated that he couldn’t prevent this from happening. She’s here, She’s alive he thinks to himself as he takes another swig of beer.

Sam had been researching physical therapists and trying to learn anything and everything to help you when you were ready for it. He felt the best way to help you was to know everything. He would sit in the war room, day and night doing everything he possibly can to help you. He just had to wait for you to ask.

Another 3 weeks went by and you still refused food, barely moving from the bed. Everything you’d ever known had changed. You were a different person, most likely never able to hunt again. Dean won’t want to be with someone broken like me, you think to yourself as tears fall down your face again.

The pain that you felt, radiated through your whole body. You wanted to ask for help, but the words never left your lips. You couldn’t let anyone see how weak you’d truly become. Pushing the covers off your body you're determined to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

As Dean and Sam sit in the war room doing research to help a hunter they hear a loud crash. They look at each other quickly before taking off towards your room. “Y/n!” Dean yells out as they run down the hall passing doors quickly before arriving at your closed one.

As Sam tries to open the door a heavy weight prevents him from doing so. “There's something blocking the door” Sam says quickly as he tries again just opening it an inch. Through the crack in the door dean can see your foot sticking out.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts worriedly as Sam carefully opens the door just enough to squeeze through. Once in the room he sees you laying on the floor, unconscious with blood running down your head.

“Dean! She's hurt!” Sam carefully maneuvers you into his arms carrying you to the bed, gently placing you down.

“What happened?!” Dean panics seeing the blood on your head.

“She was laying right in front of the door, unconscious.” He says concerned as your eyes start to flutter. A pained groan leaving your mouth. “Y/n, can you hear me?” Sam shakes you gently.

“Ow” you respond as your eyes finally open, seeing a worried Dean and Sam looking down at you

“What happened Y/n, why were you on the floor?” Dean questions you as Sam helps you sit up, leaving to get supplies to stitch your head.

Keeping your eyes cast down you avoid Dean's gaze, “I had to use the restroom, I just wanted to do something without your help. I’m so tired of being weak and useless!” you shout as your emotions take over. “I'm not the same person anymore. I understand if you and Sam want me to leave” you say wiping tears from your eyes.

“Y/n, where did you ever get an idea that we don’t want you here with us, with me? You are one of the best things that's ever come into my life and I would die before I let you go. I would do anything to protect you and I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from this. But me and Sammy, we are here for you. All you have to do is say the word and we will help you. You are so strong Y/n, one less leg won’t change that.” He replies as he wipes the remaining tears from your face kissing you softly.

“I need help, Dean” You respond hugging him tightly.

- 1 week later -

“Sam!” you yell from the library “Come help me reach this book gigantor!” you laugh as you spot Sam rounding the corner. Moving back on your crutches you point to the book you need.

“Doing research?” he asks as you both walk towards the table, Sam setting the book down for you.

“Yeah, Helping garth on a case and I need something to keep me occupied till I start physical therapy and get fitted for my prosthetic.” you respond sitting down and setting your crutches to the side.

“Well, I’m headed on a supply run. Deans in the shooting range if you need anything” he says.

Over the past week you’d been doing better, the boys have been helping you get moving again and you adjusted to using crutches. You refused to use the wheelchair determined to get back your strength. After talking to Dean and figuring everything out you were actually ready to get your life back on track.

The days passed quickly as your prosthetic fitting appointment was in just a few hours. You hoped with this leg it would get you back in the game.

“Alright, let's get this show on the road” Dean claps his hands together as he grabs your bag.

Grabbing your crutches you stand up walking out to the impala. Once Dean starts the engine and pulls out of the garage you're searching through the cassette tapes. “Black Sabbath?” you ask holding up the tape.

With a shake of his head Dean pulls out a cassette tape from his pocket “Something special” he says as he turns the volume up.

You can’t help but smile as the first lines of kansas’ ‘Carry on Wayward Son’ blasts through the speakers. You haven't felt this good in a while and there's no one else you’d rather have by your side.

As Dean pulls into the parking lot you turn down the music, suddenly nervous.

“Ready to kick ass?” Dean asks

Taking a deep breath you look at him, nodding “Let’s do this.”

After waiting for about 15 minutes you're called back into a room with your prosthetist.

“Hi Y/n, I’m Danny and i’ll be working with you over the next several months. Now, this will be a process but I don’t want you to worry or get overwhelmed. We will take this one step at a time and if you ever feel uncomfortable or want a new prosthetist that can be arranged. Do you have any questions before I start?” He asks you

“How long does all this stuff take?” you question

“Well today I’ll just be doing your initial exam making sure you are healing on the right track and once your surgeon has also signed off we can get started on the casting process. You will come in about every two weeks and once we get your prosthetic you’ll start on the physical therapy side. This process can take from 6 months to a year. But every patient is different. I want to go ahead and start your exam, can I touch your leg?” he asks you

Nodding you look away as he pulls up your pant leg examining the stump.

“Your leg looks great, swelling is practically gone, the incision has healed nicely. I’d like to discuss what your life activities looked like before the amputation and some goals you have for the future, so we can figure out what will work best for you.” he rolls the cloth shrinker back onto the stump.

“Very active, went on lots of hikes, running usual stuff. I still want to be able to do all that now” you respond.

Two hours later you walk out to the waiting room with Danny, Dean stands up as Danny holds his hand out “You must be Dean, Im Danny i’ll be Y/n’s Prosthetist”

“Nice to meet you Danny” Dean shakes his hand

“Im sure y’all are ready to get outta here so I’ll see you in two weeks Y/n.”

“See you then” you respond as Dean and you walk back to the impala

As you get into the impala Deans stomach rumbles loudly. “Burgers and pie” he asks you with a smirk.

“Burgers and pie” you smile.

Chapter 3

Dean/Jensen Taglist:

@akshi8278 @hobby27

#dean x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #gone

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 13

With the amount of blueprints, lists, material invoices, books, and samples sitting on his desk Xu felt just a bit buried and overwhelmed, but in a good way -- not only had Portia and Atara agreed to pledge funds for an expansion of the clinic but Walnut Groove, Tallsky, Lucien, Meidi, and Ethea had also decided to assist. What was going to be a single additional room had turned into two new floors with six rooms apiece to be added on to the side of the building along with a basement for Stewart's needed power and server storage. It was going to be an ambitious project and take a bit of time but inwardly he almost felt like he was vibrating with excitement.

And what timing too; his old master in Seesai had sent HIM a student. He hadn't seen his master in almost six years now but he could almost picture the old man jumping in excitement over the news of the facility and Stewart (his handwriting definitely portrayed his excitement well - Xu had only ever seen it this messy when he'd written about his granddaughter's wedding) and Xu himself was feeling quite flattered that his teacher had trusted him with the task of teaching. ((Continued below cut))

Of course, Xu would be learning right alongside his student but that didn't matter too much; there was still a lot Xu could teach even if Stewart and the facility hadn't been found.

He was trying to clear off his desk when the clinic door opened and in walked Eli; he caught a glimpse of darkness behind her - it seemed their appointment time was here...he'd lost all track of time and now he was unprepared. Drat.

"Good evening, Eli. I'll just need a moment to clear off a corner."

Eli skimmed his desk and gave him a small smile. "Don't tell me you're changing careers to architect?"

Xu chuckled as he stacked some of the books up on the floor near his feet. "Not at all - I have some exciting news to share, actually." With the books mostly out of the way it was easy to stack up the rest and he managed to get half the desk cleared as she came over and settled on her usual stool; there was a small notebook with a blue cover in her hand - it was good to see she'd brought it today. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you. So what's all the clutter for?"

"Well!" he said as he dropped onto his own seat. "What I had intended to be just one additional room for the clinic has turned into a much bigger project -- Portia, Atara, Lucien, Walnut Groove, Tallsky, Meidi, AND Ethea have all pledged to send funds to turn it into a basement as well as two additional floors - to match the height of what's already here, of course. It seems Portia may become a center for medical knowledge here in the upcoming years!"

Eli's expression changed to one of surprise before shifting into a grin. "That's good news, doc. Didn't think you'd all move so quickly on those measurements I got you."

"I didn't either but once Gale had them in hand he immediately got on the telegraph to send out word. I imagine next we'll be figuring out arrangements for other doctors to come and study under Stewart -- and, speaking of that, my master in Seesai actually has already sent a student to me. He's at the Round Table getting dinner but I can't wait to introduce you two."

"Wow, lucky timing for this student."

"Isn't it?" Xu laughed. "I thought that myself. Oh, and uh - when you meet him, know that he and I already have laughed over -- well, you'll see. I don't want to spoil it."

She gave him a questioning look but he just smiled - it was such a funny happenstance, really.

"How long will it take to complete?" she asked instead.

"I'm not sure - that part is still being figured out, as well as which contracts are going to which builders."

Eli nodded, shifting so she could rest an ankle over her opposite knee; the notebook shifted along with the movement and was now balanced across her thigh. "Well, no rush. Stewart's server banks are UNDER his docking station, and that access door is sealed up tight. No clue how or when we're getting in there..."

"Can he not open the door?"

Eli huffed out a sigh. "Yes, and no. TECHNICALLY yes, he could. But apparently not only is that the floor where his server banks are but that area down there was connected to the secret project his programming is preventing him from telling us about. Because we aren't authorized to know about it he can't open the door for us, BUT, he did say he could turn a blind eye to any attempts to get inside due to enacting his Emergency Protocol programming. His logic, which is apparently good enough for his code, is if I survived all this time there might be more survivors down below, and he's not allowed to willfully allow someone to come to harm inside his facility. I'm...rather uncomfortable with even the remote chance that we'd find someone else down there but since Stewart isn't in any rush I think that's a good indicator that the chance, while not zero, is so small that we're not likely to find anything surprising lurking below."

Xu frowned as he searched across his desk for his clipboard and pen. "That sounds like a lot of needless extra effort and stress. I thought All Source AIs and living AIs were allowed some free will?"

"A human has free will but we all still tend to obey laws."

"Ah." That was a good point. He finally found his clipboard and pen, and then retrieved Eli's file from a desk drawer. "So...how have you been feeling lately?"

She leaned forward to hold out the notebook. "Mostly ok. It's still hard to see the buildings around here. I tried journaling like you suggested but I mostly ended up scribbling things. It's not as easy as it sounds to put thought to paper when you'd rather not be thinking at all."

Xu took the journal from her and thumbed through the first couple of pages - there were a couple of dated entries but as she'd said there were a lot of sketches in here; there were skyscrapers, some boats, something that was a cross between a plane and a truck, squat buildings, some mountainous areas... "These are nice. Were you an artist in school?"

"Not really. I can do buildings and landscapes but don't ask me to try drawing a person or animal. I struggle with plants a lot too."

Xu smiled and kept looking through. "I see a lot of precise things where scale matters, and not as many things where it doesn't. Would you say you enjoy neat and orderly aspects of life?"

"That's one way to put it, I guess."

Xu opened his mouth to continue but the clinic's door opened and in came Phyllis in a rush. She had a paper in her hand and she waved it at him as she hurried across the floor.

"It's done! I did it!"

"That's fantastic!" he replied, standing and almost being bowled over as Phyllis collided with him in a hug. "When will it be available for you to move in?"

"Two months from now," Phyllis answered. She pulled away and was grinning ear to ear.

"...congratulations?" came Eli's somewhat confused response.

Laughing, Xu turned toward her. "Phyllis has been trying to get the owner of a building in South Block to sell for months now. It seems they finally accepted her recent offer so now she'll have a clinic of her own to run here soon."

"Oh - definitely congratulations then," Eli said, nodding to her. "You can never have too many doctors."

"I can't wait," Phyllis laughed - a sound somewhere between elated and relieved.

Xu hadn't seen her so excited or happy in quite a while and it was infectious; he too was grinning as he sat back down. "After such exciting news in such a short period of time I hope we can focus properly."

"No worries, doctor," Eli chuckled. "Some days even just talking about the weather is a welcome interaction."

"Has there been any new troubles for you? You're still settling in well?"

"As well as I can be."

Phyllis folded up the paper and slid it into the pocket of her skirt and then, as she tended to do when she sat in on therapy sessions, quietly took a seat on a stool that was off to the side near one of the cabinets; the movement drew Xu's attention so when the clinic door opened yet again he didn't notice it until he saw Phyllis's head turn slightly to face that way.

Framed in the doorway, looking uncertain as to whether he should venture further inside, was his new student; the young man was named Harrison. His hair was a muddy brown that he kept clipped close to the skin and his eyes were a very dark shade of brown - they almost looked black. He stood at the same height as Xu but was just a tad bit thicker in the stomach area, and was wearing a short sleeved button up white shirt under an open black vest, black pants, and somewhat threadbare canvas shoes.

Xu gestured for him to come in. "Ah, there you are - Eli, I'd like you to meet Harrison."

The Dubei woman rotated around on the stool, looking Harrison up and down. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I was briefly told about you and have been looking forward to meeting you all day."

At Eli's confused look Xu began to laugh quietly. She looked between the two and he managed to swallow down the laughter. "See? I told you we'd already laughed over it."

"That's not an act? He just...sounds exactly like you?"

Harrison flushed bright red to his ears. "I don't think it's EXACT, and it's not an act. I personally think it's a bit embarrassing but neither of us can help what we sound like."

Eli scratched just above an ear, blowing out a short huff. "All right then... I guess so long as I can see who's talking it ought to be fine." After a pause she smiled. "Maybe just add your name after every sentence."

Xu chuckled and again gestured for Harrison to come in from the doorway. "We'll figure something out. I wonder if my master even noticed anything."

"I don't think he did," Harrison said. Finally the man came in to stand at the corner of the desk. "At least, he never mentioned it. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't...I don't know, senile or anything. He seemed as sharp as ever." He paused, then gave Eli an awkward smile. "Said me, Harrison, and not Dr. Xu."

They all laughed at that, and once he'd gotten his breath back Xu looked to Eli. "Before we begin I'd like to ask - do you mind if Harrison sits in on your sessions, Eli? It's completely up to you and whatever you find comfortable."

She considered that for a moment, then nodded. "He can stay. Might as well start him off right with a heaping dose of trauma. If he can handle me he should be able to handle anything."

Xu nodded and leaned back in his chair. "All right. At any point if you want privacy I'm sure neither Phyllis nor Harrison would mind leaving the room." He looked to the two to confirm and got a pair of nods; Harrison went to sit on the floor in front of the cabinet beside Phyllis (Xu made a note to go buy at least one more stool for the clinic in the morning).

Then he looked back to Eli, and gave her a gentle nod. "When you're ready."

Eli was silent for a moment, then brushed the loose hair on top of her head to the left. "Well. Recently I've had an indirect problem with Lee."

------------------------------------------------

"Looks like Old Bob is back in town."

It was early morning and Isaac was currently winning his fifth game of Cross Five; Eli looked up from the game board and spied a familiar looking duster coat-clad man wandering up the path. "His name is Bob?"

"He says it is," Isaac answered. He paused and placed his next piece before continuing. "A retired teacher from Vega 5, if he's to be believed. Got tired of where he was and began to wander around. He drifts into Portia every spring and autumn - harmless fellow but hard to talk to."

"What'd he teach?" As Eli watched him the man slowed to a stop, slipped a hand into a pocket of his coat, then turned around and hurried off in the direction he'd come from.

"He's never said. He mumbles a lot - has his better moments, some days more than others. Those days when he's lucid he could talk your ear off."

Eli nodded and placed her next piece - she'd managed to line up four pieces eighteen times in this one game but it seemed entirely too easy for Isaac to block her from a win. "I ran into - well, passed him - the other day. Seemed friendly enough."

Four turns later and Isaac had again maneuvered his pieces so that he had two open ways of winning and Eli could only block one of them. She huffed and reached out to start sweeping her black pieces off the board and into the appropriate leather pouch that held them. "Never was all that great at board games. If we were playing card games our roles would probably be reversed."

Isaac laughed. "Need to learn how to strategize better, young one. Not likely time to squeeze in another game before school starts but if you ever want to hear more of Portia's and the world's history feel free to come by for another game or two."

"I definitely will be - thank you, Isaac."

She handed him the leather pouch of game pieces and stood, moving in the direction of the schoolhouse.

So the man's name was Old Bob and he was also from Vega 5... Merlin hailed from there too and had urged her, several times, to go visit the city someday soon; it was certainly something she had put on her incredibly long To Do list, if only because Merlin had mentioned that a lot of living AIs were still functional out there. Portia's only living - er, living living - AI was Ack and the robot was in need of repair...it baffled her that he hadn't tried to travel to Vega 5 to seek replacement parts since all AIs had self preservation coded into them as a standard. He was missing an original leg, was dinged up, rusted in places and scratched all to hell, and he had chunks of his outer metal shell missing on the top and back of his head -- she could tell that at some point someone had tried building him a replacement leg but the servos whined on cold or rainy days, and it didn't look like there'd been any attempt to fix the holes in his head beyond him adopting a metal pot as a hat. If Vega 5 had a large population of living AIs Eli was pretty certain there was a good chance they could clean, repair, and polish up Ack if he'd just go.

Maybe she could take the robot with her when she went...if someone was going with him it might convince him the trip was needed. She'd bring it up if she ever seriously considered traveling; as it stood she could probably fix him up herself - it just wouldn't be all that pretty. At the very least she should try to get those holes in his head fixed...she could only imagine how much rust might be INSIDE him at this point with such a large area where moisture could get in.

Soon enough the schoolhouse was in front of her and her train of thought regarding robot repairs was carefully set aside for later; the door was unlocked and Eli was greeted with the sight of a thin, dark haired woman sitting at the desk inside the door. She seemed a bit surprised to see Eli but stood to greet her as she walked in.

"Good morning," Eli said. "I won't keep you long - I wanted to ask if you had any history or wildlife books you wouldn't mind letting me borrow."

The woman (Eli was pretty sure her name was Lucy - she'd only ever talked to the woman twice before) nodded to her, clasping her hands in front of her stomach and glancing toward what Eli assumed was the classroom. "We have a few I'm not currently using during our lessons but they're fairly...elementary. Simple, I mean. Meant for younger children. I can order more advanced ones from Vega 5 or Atara, if you don't mind waiting. We'll be needing them in the upcoming years anyway."

"I wouldn't say no to any book, simple or not. I'm not looking to cause any trouble or extra effort though."

Lucy shook her head. "No, it's no problem at all. There's a bookshelf just inside the door there, and it's certainly no extra trouble to order books ahead of time. It may take several weeks though."

"No worries - it's not like I'm going anywhere," Eli replied.

Lucy smiled faintly at that and sat back down; Eli hurried in to the bookshelf and skimmed the titles, picking up two books - one was a history book, one was a children's "survival guide" style book with cartoony, colorful pictures of plants and animals. The information in it was written in very simple terms but it would serve as a decent starting point until she could get her hands on something more thorough. She gave Lucy a wave as she headed out the door with the books tucked under an arm; as she was heading up the street to return to Selene's she spied Adam jogging down the hill, and once he spotted her his path altered so he was running right at her.

"What's up?"

"We've got tracks," was the man's reply. "We didn't 'ear anything last night but there's footprints right outside the back of the tent - they go out to the east toward the river."

Eli frowned. "Great - another unwelcome visitor."

"Right. And with just me and Asher we can't split to go have a look. Arlo's waiting for you out at the camp. I'm going to find Sam and send her out too."

"I'll drop these off at home and head straight out," Eli said, waggling the books at him.

Adam nodded and quickly moved away, disappearing into town in search of Sam; Eli continued on but sped up to a jog and left the books sitting on her bedside table before heading out to the facility. As Adam had said Arlo was standing outside the tent with Asher and he waved at her as she came into view.

"What do we have, gentlemen?" she asked as she finally reached them.

Asher jerked his head toward the tent. "A tie came loose overnight - let in a pretty good draft. When I got up this morning and went to fix it I found some footprints. Can't exactly go traipsing off without some back up."

Eli nodded and headed around to the tent's backside; the tent was a big one and it was clear it was designed to be somewhat modular -- she could see where a middle section could be swapped out and the tent made shorter. The section was attached with heavy zippers on either end that had extra flaps of canvas that could be tied down over said zippers to keep the wind from blowing straight through.

And, as he'd said, there was a mess of footprints. The grass back here was a thick, tangled, fibrous mess - it was enough to keep the person from sinking too deeply into the mud beneath it (and thus avoid any noisy, wet, sucking sounds as they pulled their feet free) but while the grass had mostly sprung back from being trod on the grass blades were still visibly stained with mud, and it was plain to see how the tracks paced up and down the entire length of the back of the tent. Had someone tried getting inside?

"And neither of you heard anything?" she called out.

"Nope," came Asher's reply from the front. "Adam's sure he didn't hear a thing, and since he was out in front he didn't feel the draft. Heck, I didn't feel the draft until I woke up and was getting ready to cook and swap out with him. Came around and..."

As he was talking he'd circled around and was standing at the western edge of the tent; rather than speak further he simply gestured at the tracks and Eli bent down to stick her hand next to a somewhat clear one to get a rough measurement -- the footprint was rather petite so that was likely another reason why this person hadn't sunk into the mud too much even if you took the grass cover into consideration.

"Right...I'll head out and see where these lead." She straightened and looked back to Asher; Arlo was standing with him now too. "You two going to stay put until Adam and Sam get here?"

"I'll come with you," Arlo replied. "Sam can catch up."

She nodded and started to trek to the east; there was an easily followed trail heading away from the tent that skirted along the bottom of the bluffs - someone had obviously been focusing on approaching in a way that would make them especially hard to spot, but luckily for her and Arlo their muddied tracks were still plain and clear in the daylight.

"Isn't this where Mali and Maddie were checking the last time we had someone out here?" Eli asked.

"I believe so. They said they followed the land all the way out to the river - at that time there wasn't any sign that someone had climbed down."

"And when we found the man on the cliffs there wasn't any sign that there'd been a second person," she said after a pause. "If we're going to keep getting snoops from the north I might have to see if I can work up some trail cameras..."

"Some what?"

"Trail cameras. Recording devices you charge up, hide somewhere, and leave running to get candid pictures of wildlife, usually. They're triggered by motion only, to conserve battery life. Though I doubt I could manage anything that could transmit to a computer somewhere...will probably have to rig up a separate hard drive to store things on. BUT, point being, if we can get enough of those up in this area we could probably catch a glimpse of our little spies sneaking around up here. What's to the north?"

"Sandrock is to the immediate north. From what I've been hearing the town's fallen on some hard times and a lot of people have left to go seek their fortunes elsewhere so it's probably easy to go around the town without being seen. I'll see if Gale can send discrete word to the Mayor there and ask about any influxes of people going through the town that seem out of place. We've been seeing a lot of tourists lately because we've completed some roads over the last couple of years so we might not get any definitive answers though."

"It's a good enough place to start. What's further north than that?"

"Atara is to Sandrock's northwest, Lucien is to Atara's northwest, and Duvos is to Lucien's northwest. Highwind and Barnarock are to the northeast, and Ethea is almost directly north of Sandrock."

"And from what Isaac was telling me this morning about the Free Cities and historical politics I doubt we're getting spies from anywhere except Duvos," Eli said quietly. "Ask Gale if he can check in with Lucien and Atara, and...Highwind. Wait, no - Ethea. Or really, any place that's connected to any other place with established transportation. I hope it's not just Duvos that spies on everyone else?"

Arlo shrugged. "I've no idea. I'd certainly hope we've got eyes inside Duvos after our last war with them."

They trudged on in silence for a time; Eli was keeping a careful watch on the bluffs moreso than on the tracks they were trailing -- so far she'd not seen any sign of where a person may have been climbing around, and the cliffs were too tall for her to believe that someone could have just jumped from there (plus, even if they HAD jumped, they'd still need to get back up to wherever their camp may be).

There was no sign beyond the tracks until they finally walked all the way out to the waterfall.

"And there's where our visitor came from," Arlo growled.

The bluffs were still just as tall but there was a narrow shelf that was closer to the ground that extended out to the east and gradually widened right where the waterfall roared over the rocks. Pounded into the cliffside were iron...they looked like iron rods with a wide eye on the end, through which a rope was threaded. Hanging on either end of the line of rods were lengths of knotted rope to help someone scale up the rock face, and then the rope stretched across and under where the waterfall flowed to connect the two ends. The river that the waterfall fed into below them was a good fifty feet down; the steeply sloping rock that made up the sides of this ravine was surprisingly smooth and considering how much water was pouring into its narrow riverbed Eli suspected the current below would be dangerously strong.

"Pretty risky...a tumble from here would probably drown you, assuming you didn't break your skull against the cliffs on the way down," Eli muttered, letting her gaze trace over the rope and then trail down into the river - from up here she couldn't see anything in the river but that didn't mean there weren't rocks waiting beneath the surface either. "Not to mention how uncomfortable it'd be to get soaking wet - it's still pretty chilly."

"It's a long walk to go around to a safer place to cross," Arlo said. "And there's a lot of places out that way where someone could hole up and hide."

She stepped back from the edge of the ravine and eyed the rope-and-rod crossing. "I could easily sabotage that without anyone able to tell until they were using it but I'd rather not murder our spy...I want to catch and have a little chat with them."

"Should we just cut it down and take the rods with us?"

Eli considered that for a moment; it would clue in the spy that someone had definitely found their crossing point but unless they were dealing with a champion of cluelessness there's no way that this person couldn't have known that they'd leave tracks behind. Taking it down now would force them to use another way or to rebuild this spot...but even then there was a lot of territory out here to keep an eye on and not enough eyes to go around.

"Let's leave it for now. I think our best course of action would be to get some trail cameras made -- I can get the cameras and drives out of the computers in the dorm area, and then I'm sure Selene could whip up a case to hold all the pieces."

"Did all computers have cameras in them?"

"Yep," Eli answered. She headed back the way they'd come and heard Arlo following along. "How else would you call someone?"

"Why would you need a camera to call someone?"

"So you could see who you're talking to. Pretty simple to fake someone's voice with the right tech - it's a bit harder to fake someone's face across a video call since those programs were easily detected. Not impossible, but harder."

Arlo was quiet for a few steps. "-and I guess it was nicer to see the person you were talking to as well."

"Yep."

They walked back to the Pig's camp in silence then; Adam and Sam were nowhere to be seen but Asher said they'd arrived and then left not too long after she and Arlo had headed off but that they had chosen to climb up the cliffs and check things out up there.

"Beginning to think we need some backup..." Asher mused after they'd filled him in on the iron rods and rope guard rail. "We always worried that there were still Duvos agents listening in to our telegraphs... Mali got jumped once because of that," he added, looking to Eli. "Word must've made it back to the empire pretty quick about this place. Got a couple people out here spying, noticed that Mali and the others left, and now they're getting bolder."

"With the locking car door it shouldn't be too much of a problem," Eli said after a pause. "There's no way they could break or cut their way in without being noticed. My concern would be just HOW bold they get if they think there's only one of you guys out there."

Asher nodded, rubbing a finger over the scar across his nose. "I already know what it feels like to be considered an easy target, believe me."

"Why would they be so interested to get into a medical facility though?" Arlo asked. "That's not the sort of tech they tend to try and seize."

"Maybe they don't believe it's a medical facility and need to figure it out themselves?" Asher offered, shrugging. "Or maybe they just want to junk it all for parts. I can't begin to imagine how those people think." He looked between the tent and the elevator car. "Mali said she'd come back once the prisoner was delivered, convicted, and she got Greg and Maddie home. If we can catch her before her trip back here we can ask for a couple more hands -- but also if we don't even just having her here too would be a help."

Eli eyed the tent, then nodded to herself. "I can move out here for a bit."

"What, really? You don't have to," Asher said after a pause. "Adam and I've got this for now, no problem."

Arlo sighed, crossing his arms. "Maybe you do but only for people trying to get inside - you can't split up to follow anyone. It might be best if Eli, and maybe myself as well, come out here to help until Mali gets back."

"You sure?" Asher asked again. "It's rough living - we don't mind it but you two-"

"Let's head into town, talk to Gale, and discuss what we'll need to bring back out with us," Eli interrupted, looking to Arlo.

"Agreed. We'll be back in a bit," Arlo said with a nod to Asher. Asher sighed and threw up his hands in a sign of defeat and sat back down on a short stump of wood that was serving as a seat beside the firepit.

They had just reached the edge of the tree farm when Eli spied a figure moving toward them through the trees; she ducked around one and circled further to the west and spied Old Bob wandering toward them. The man had his head down and was tiptoeing through the grass - clearly trying to avoid the worst of the mud. She moved to join back up with Arlo, nodding her head toward the drifter.

"Kind of far out from town, aren't you?" she called toward him.

Bob's head jerked up and he stared around wildly until he finally caught sight of them; he visibly relaxed and offered them a half smile as they came within roughly fifteen feet of each other. "Yeah. Don't like towns after being cooped up in 'em. Seen the walls out there? Open sky. Like being closer to the stars."

"No stars out yet - you're a bit early," she replied.

"I know. Takes awhile to get there. Takes time. Taking my time, yeah?"

"Be on the lookout, Bob," Arlo said then. "We think a thief is hiding out in the marsh somewhere."

Bob flared his nostrils at them and came to a stomping halt. "Thieves. Bah. Nothing valuable on me. Bad business still."

"If you see anyone somewhere they shouldn't be let the Civil Corps know, all right?"

The man nodded his head vigorously. "Wouldn't know who belongs where but I'll try."

They kept walking; Eli turned around to walk backwards and watch Bob's meandering path as he headed toward the rear of the farm where she knew there were some ruins and a old stone wall that was mostly intact, if a bit segmented.

"Does that guy usually get the run of the town?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, does he just go wherever and no one stops him?"

Arlo nodded. "More or less. Of course, he doesn't trespass somewhere he shouldn't go. He sticks to the public areas, or wanders around in the fields -- I see him fishing a lot and scavenging on the beach for shells but he never hangs around for very long. And he's never tried to steal anything or hurt anyone."

"And he's been doing this for years?"

Arlo nodded again; Eli turned around and walked facing forward once she'd lost sight of the man among the trees. Knowing they had another unwanted visitor had her suddenly suspicious of the old man but it didn't take a genius to see how the man's large booted feet were much bigger than the size of the prints up near the tent. Rather than dwell on it she tried making a mental list of things she wanted to tote out to the camp; clothing and food supplies were easy enough but she wondered if Selene would mind if she borrowed a toolbox to keep onsite out there -- usually the builder carried it back and forth but it didn't seem logical for the woman to only have one set of tools.

"Meet you at the city hall," she said once they'd gotten down the road to Portia's gates. As Arlo headed up the hill toward the Civil Corps building Eli headed toward Selene's workshop; the lights were on and there was a steady plume of steam coming out of the exhaust pipe on the roof.

Oh. Along with asking to borrow tools she should also mention she'd eventually need some steel cases for some cobbled together trail cameras.

The roar of machines going full steam greeted her as she pushed the door to the workshop open. Selene was up to her elbows in the guts of a...well, Eli had no idea what that particular machine was but it was disconnected from the rest of the system in here and was in five dozen pieces across the floor.

"You uh...need a hand?"

"Nope! Just have to take the whole dang thing apart to replace a single cog..." came the irritated answer. "Did you need something?"

"A couple somethings but it can wait."

"I'll just be a few minutes more...want to get this thing out before I stop."

"Sure."

Eli shut the door behind her and leaned against the door frame, watching and listening as Selene grunted and griped and finally twisted something loose with an "AHA!" that Eli could just barely hear over the noise of the rest of the machinery running. She fiddled around with a few more metal pieces then chucked the aforementioned cog carelessly over a shoulder; Eli watched it as it hit the ground and bounced off into a corner, chuckling to herself.

"Ok! What'd you need?" Selene asked as she extricated herself from the machine's inner bits. She had oil smears from fingertips to halfway up to her elbow, and Eli could spy a scrape that was thankfully above the oil line but was oozing a bit of blood.

"-you want a second to clean yourself off and get that taken care of?" Eli asked after a moment.

Selene glanced down at the cut - by her expression Eli guessed the woman hadn't even noticed it until it had been pointed out. "Hrm...stupid thing. I knew I shouldn't have tried to increase the belt efficiency at the cost of making that one part that much harder to reach. Oh well! What were you needing?"

There was a sink (Selene called it the "slop sink" ) in the corner next to the control panels for the machinery; it was partially walled off to prevent any chances of water splashing onto anything it shouldn't. Selene beelined for it and started scrubbing the oil and grime off with a soap that looked like sand and smelled like lemons.

"I was wondering if I could borrow some tools to keep on hand out at the facility. I'll be staying out there at the Pig's camp for a couple days and figured I'd keep myself busy putting together a couple of projects -- and said projects will also need some containers to fit into."

"Oooh." Selene's voice echoed oddly in the sink area. "What're you making?"

"They're called trail cameras. You basically have a camera, battery, and hard drive in a box hidden out in the wilds with a motion trigger. It'll record for a set amount of time then turn itself back off. Pretty sure I can put together a couple."

"Neat," Selene replied. A few minutes later and she turned around, hands bright red from scrubbing but with all traces of the oil gone. "Take your pick of what's on the shelves there and if there's something I know I'll be needing immediately I'll let you know."

Eli nodded and moved over to the nearly floor-to-ceiling shelves that took up the lion's share of the northern wall; she'd need some cutters, screwdrivers, maybe a hammer or rubber mallet, a couple wrenches... She began to pick out tools and then jumped a bit when Selene appeared at her elbow.

"Give me the dimensions you'll need and I can work up the outer casings, no problem," the builder said. The woman reached passed Eli to grab an especially heavy metal clamp before moving back over to sit it on top of the disassembled machine. "What's so important about trail cameras that you need to stay out there to make them?" she called over a shoulder.

"Just didn't want to have to walk back and forth a ton," Eli answered. It wasn't technically a lie but it wasn't the full truth; until she and Arlo talked to Gale she wasn't certain she should be sharing any details of new Duvos spies being found in the area. Once she had an armload of things she thought she'd need she carried it over to Selene to let her inspect it all.

"I...think we're good," Selene said after a moment to take inventory of everything Eli was holding. "I don't have any spare boxes to let you borrow but I've got some sturdy bags, if that's ok?"

"Works for me. I'll get you the plans for the camera cases once I've seen how it all needs to fit together."

"Sounds good. Let's go get the bags."

Selene led the way out of the workshop and toward the house with Eli following in her wake. That had been a lot quicker than she'd expected - she was probably going to beat Arlo to city hall at this rate.

---------------------------------------------------

The plan was a simple one: Arlo and Eli would stay awake overnight, sitting at the back of the tent. The zipper had been undone but the upper ties left secured to hide that fact; it would take just one clean swipe with a sharp blade to sever the ties and allow them to come rushing out the back of the tent at any hint of someone snooping around. Asher and Adam continued their shifts as usual, and during the day Arlo and Eli were careful to remain out of sight as much as possible (which was easy considering most of the day they were sleeping anyhow). Tonight was the third night; it wasn't THE most boring vigil Arlo had ever taken but it was definitely dull to be sitting in the silence, in the dark, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

Eli at least had something to do; she was sketching out (in PEN and the flickering light of the campfire, no less) some sort of diagram for a case for those trail cameras she'd been working on in those few hours of the day where being silent wasn't required. The crate of parts she had to work with was sitting at the foot of her cot -- under Stewart's guidance Selene, Petra, and Merlin had cordoned off a section of a dorm floor and had taken apart personal computers there along with some gadgets out of the ceilings and walls. Arlo had a passing interest in Old World tech but didn't know much about it; to him it seemed like an awful lot of parts for what Eli had said would be a "few" cameras. Watching her work was fascinating but it didn't take an Old World expert to see how she had at least twenty of some of those parts - twenty was not something he would refer to as "a few" and thus far she hadn't tossed anything out as unserviceable either.

Maybe it was just overkill for the sake of not having to go back down and take more things apart... Eli had stated she wanted to leave as much of that facility intact as possible in the hopes they could, in the future, utilize it as it had once been (sort of) -- he supposed the less they fiddled with things, the fewer chances something would break.

He moved his attention away from Eli and Old World musings and stretched his legs out; sitting still for hours at a time wasn't something he was used to (or especially liked) and with him and Eli keeping a low profile out here they'd postponed their usual morning training sessions. There was a small concern that whoever was spying would notice the sudden change if they'd been watching the city too but there wasn't much that could be done about it; he wished something could be done for how restless he felt.

Well...he shouldn't be dwelling on THAT particular part of it. A couple days - maybe a week - without a morning run wouldn't kill him.

With a silent sigh Arlo leaned back and braced his hands against the floor behind him; the ground under the tent was lined with a thick, rubber-coated canvas and it squeaked quietly as he shifted and the flashlight in his back pocket rubbed against it. The tiny noise drew Eli's attention and he mouthed 'sorry' at her -- she nodded and went back to her sketching.

As he'd already done dozens of times tonight he closed his eyes and went through a mental tally of the "normal" noises: the sound of Eli's sketching (barely noticeable), the pop of the campfire out in front, the slight creaking of rope as the wind caused the tent to shift from time to time, the whistle of that same wind across the opening in the top of the tent that would let the smoke of any fires filter out (Asher said during winter the campfire had been INSIDE the tent for better warmth but it wasn't needed now). There was the sound of the grass against Asher's boots whenever the man got up and paced around; if he turned his head slightly to the right Arlo could hear the soft sounds of Adam breathing as he slept.

Everything seemed both too quiet and also too loud. It was honestly starting to drive him a bit crazy.

But then there was a...noise. Hardly more than a whisper of something against something else. It was so quiet Arlo couldn't identify what had caused it but it was different enough against the backdrop of sounds he'd grown so accustomed to over these last few nights that it stuck out as clearly as someone clapping their hands to get his attention.

Arlo opened his eyes and looked to Eli; she had her head tilted back, eyes toward the roof of the tent. He turned his head a bare fraction of an inch to his left and closed his eyes again -- there it was again. Something rasping against something. Grass on...on something. He still couldn't tell what it was.

Again he opened his eyes and glanced over to Eli; she was moving, ever so slowly, to put her notepad and pen down. The only thing moving were her hands - her head was still angled toward the roof. In the campfire's dim light Arlo noted her eyes flicking over to him; when the notepad was safely deposited on the floor she used her hands to lift her backside off the floor and then gingerly turned herself over so that she was on her hands and the balls of her feet. Arlo imitated the movement - there was no squeaking from the flashlight he had in his pocket this time.

Eli silently raised a hand and pointed a finger at him, two fingers toward her eyes, and then those same fingers at the unzipped section of the tent.

With a careful gesture he indicated the knife that was sitting within reach of both of them; she nodded to him, then pointed to herself, then to the front entrance of the tent, and then made a circle motion with her hand.

He understood all that as she wanted him to take the knife and watch the gap in the tent, and she was going to...circle around from the outside, he assumed.

Very, very carefully he stood and crossed the few feet between where he'd been sitting and the back "wall" of the tent; the rasping noise was slightly louder now and he felt it was coming from a point somewhere below his head -- that made sense, if this were footsteps he was hearing. He stopped a hair's breadth away from the canvas and waited, hardly daring to breathe but holding the knife at the ready; there was a tiny gap between the zippered ends of the canvas but it was so narrow he couldn't see a thing through it...but he was certain that if someone was out there and tried to mess with the ties again that he would see the fabric move and know that it was time to strike.

A very quick check showed that Eli was creeping out of the tent; he returned his attention to the zippered canvas and waited.

------------------------------------------------

Asher had seen her out of the corner of his eye; he looked surprised for a moment, then immediately concerned but to his credit he didn't say a word nor did he get up from where he was sitting on the stump beside the fire.

Eli gestured to him - he needed to stand up (QUIETLY), and go around the tent on the western side. He seemed to get the gist of it, much like Arlo had, from her silent hand movements. That was good. If they circled around at the same speed, even if they were heard coming, they'd catch whoever was back there between them. She was really hoping it wasn't a wild animal.

Thankfully around the front of the tent the grass had been trampled beyond recovery; it was too wet and too broken to make any noise as she moved across the tent's front side but once she reached the eastern corner she knew she'd be making noise as she moved.

It couldn't be helped, but it could be mitigated if she moved slowly enough.

Even at a snail's pace it didn't take long to get to the back corner of the tent; she was still out of sight, and still hadn't seen or heard any indication that whatever was behind here knew she was there.

She took a deep breath, counted to three in her head, then jumped out around the corner.

And...what--

She could see through to the other end of the tent but there was a-

Oh hell.

As Asher came around his corner there was a vaguely human-shaped area back here that was like trying to peer through a window smeared with petroleum jelly -- indistinct, blurry, almost impossible to see the outline of in the dark.

Eli rushed forward for the middle-most area of the blurry blob; whatever it was ducked her swung fist and for a brief instant disappeared against the backdrop of the landscape now that it wasn't directly between her and Asher.

"What in the world-"

Eli ignored Asher and hurried forward with her arms outstretched toward where she THOUGHT the cloaked figure had moved; something struck her arm hard and knocked it away, and the blur moved closer to the tent in response. In the same instant the back segment of the tent flew open and Arlo stepped out and the blur struck out at him. It clipped his ear and shoulder and instinctively he swung the knife -- to Eli's surprise it connected solidly.

So solidly in fact that it was yanked out of Arlo's hand and now she could see the handle of the blade seemingly floating in midair in the midst of the smear-shaped person; he'd stabbed their spy in the shoulder - upper arm, at least, judging by the height. Eli aimed a flurry of punches in the general direction of the knife's handle and the blur retreated rapidly and right into Asher who got his arms around part of them but then immediately took what Eli assumed was the back of the person's head to his nose and his grip loosened enough that the figure slipped out.

The handle went blurry for a moment and then was moving down and to the side - the cloaked figure had yanked it free and was now wielding it -- or, was, as almost as quickly as they'd pulled it free they launched it at Asher. Thankfully it hit him hilt-first but it was still a solid blow; Eli heard the sound of metal hitting what could only be teeth followed by Asher's grunt of pain, and the figure didn't pause before landing a solid (and nearly impossible to see coming) fist into Arlo's sternum.

As the figure then turned and rushed her Eli swung again; her knuckles grated against something plastic-feeling, ribbed and with tiny beading, and it was confirmation enough to determine that this person had somehow got their hands on an Active Camouflage Environmental Support Suit - or as they were sometimes called an "Access Suit." It was a jumpsuit covered in sensors, wires, and tiny projectors that could render someone more or less invisible to the naked eye and also contained a small generator that scrambled camera feeds to make them harder to spot there too. How the hell had one of these survived 300 years?

It clearly wasn't fully functioning since Eli could see the human-shaped blur but even then...just...how in the hell?

'It can't be an original. There's just no way,' was repeating over and over in her mind as she was bowled over by the figure.

As she hit the ground and rolled she reached to the small of her back; Selene had fashioned her two holsters for that revolver she'd taken off the first spy. One was a thigh holster that she planned to wear when warmer weather hit, and the other went at the small of her back which allowed her to hide the gun under her jacket. She really, really didn't want to take a pot shot at this spy -- she didn't want to have to shoot anyone at all since this world lacked the medical equipment needed to assure a high survival rate.

The problem in this immediate moment though was if Duvos had the plans for those things and equipped their soldiers with them it would be disastrous for the rest of the continent, but if this spy was a one-off and she took care of this right here, right now...

She drew and aimed for what she thought was the center of mass and then fired off all three rounds in the gun. For a moment she swore she saw the blur stagger but then it was too far out into the darkness to be visible.

They were gone.

Behind her Arlo was checking on Asher, and there was the brief sound of pounding feet as Adam care tearing around the edge of the tent barefoot and without his coat on.

"What the 'ell happened?!"

"We had a visitor," Eli sighed. "It's not good news."

Arlo helped Asher stand up, steadying him as he swayed; Asher tilted his head forward -- blood was pouring out of his mouth and nose both. He fumbled for a handkerchief and once he'd gotten it half out of his pocket Arlo snagged it and held it to the man's face.

"What even was that?" Arlo asked. "It was like trying to see the wind."

"That was an Access Suit. And it's not a good thing if Duvos has their hands on one and figures out how to make them."

Asher moved his head to the side to spit around the handkerchief - there was something small and white in it. "Great. So now our spies are invisible."

"Not ENTIRELY invisible. Which is the only silver lining here -- if you can see the person in the Access Suit it means its not working correctly. We shouldn't be able to see ANYTHING but we could see enough to sort of tell where they were." She flipped the cylinder out on the revolver and collected the casings - they could be reused and ammo was about to become a commodity - then slotted in three more bullets and clicked it closed again before returning it to the holster at her back. "Which also means the trail cameras are going to be useless because those suits are designed to mess with cameras too."

Adam looked at her, confused. "Invisible suits? Screwing with cameras?"

"Wouldn't tampering with a camera alert someone to your being there, though?" Arlo asked. He was still holding Asher steady; the blonde finally lifted his head to look ahead at Eli and flashed Arlo a thumbs up as he took over holding the handkerchief to his face.

"It does, but you still can't physically see the person in the suit and looking through a camera feed just gives you a general idea of where they are."

"So, sort of what we just saw but weren't supposed to see," Asher said. His voice was muffled and distorted - like a small child holding their nose to speak funny. He also had a slight whistle to his speech now and Eli assumed he'd either broken a tooth or had it knocked out of him entirely. "Just something blurry without much of a shape."

"Shouldn't we be chasing this spy?" Adam interrupted then. "They're getting away!"

Eli shook her head. "No point to chasing something we can't see." She turned to Asher and Arlo. "Head into town and get yourselves looked at by Dr. Xu. I can hold the fort down with Adam - I can't guarantee the spy won't come back tonight though. We know about their little secret now but they're still pretty hard to spot."

"I don't think I need Xu," Asher replied. "Just a bloody nose and chipped tooth."

"Does the tooth hurt?"

"No more than my nose does."

Eli let out a long sigh, turning to look after where the spy had run. "Well. Even still - whether you chipped down to the nerves or not it'll probably have to come out."

There was a quiet groan from behind her. "Damn it...gonna have to go all the way to Seesai to get a fake one, too."

As she turned around she saw Adam rolling his eyes at Asher. "You can get 'em in Ethea you uppity bucket head."

"Yeah but they aren't as real looking as the teeth that woman in Seesai makes, and they discolor a lot quicker than hers too. I don't want a random yellow tooth front and center in my mouth."

"Boys," Eli interrupted, smiling a bit. "Worry about your vanity later and get cleaned up."

The three headed around the western side of the tent; she heard a faint "at least this time you had your pants on" from Asher (probably - hopefully - aimed at Adam). Before she left she went and picked up the dropped knife -- it was a 6-inch long blade that folded into a heavy metal handle that was inlaid with wood pieces. She stuck it into her waistband and glanced out toward the marsh.

That spy, if they were smart, would lay low for a few days - especially if they had a stab wound to tend to.

Actually.

"Hey guys - I'm going to go talk to Xu," she called out as she rounded the corner of the tent.

Inside Adam was helping Arlo clean Asher's face up; they had poured a bottle of water into a bowl and were alternating between a wet cloth and a drier one as they dabbed off blood and assessed the damage to Asher's lips, nose, and teeth. When she poked her head through the flap only Adam looked up to her.

"What for?"

"Arlo managed to stab the bastard. If Xu has anyone coming in with a stab wound on their upper extremities anywhere..."

Now the man gave her a grin. "Then that'd be our bastard."

"Exactly. I'll be back in a bit."

---------------------------------------------

It was early morning; he wasn't used to being up this early yet - his master tended to spend the morning hours catching up on correspondences over a cup of hot tea so Harrison would get to sleep in until it was time for his lessons. Xu didn't respond to any letters that Harrison had seen yet, nor did he drink (or even like) tea, but he definitely shared the master's habit of getting up bright and early to get tasks done. It wasn't a habit Harrison had picked up from either of the two and it wasn't one he WANTED to pick up either but it didn't seem like he'd get a choice regarding it.

The last couple of days Xu had opened the clinic to let Harrison inside, then had let him mind the place for an hour or so while Xu went on a morning walk to pick fresh herbs; the next couple of hours afterward were spent learning the different ways of preparing the herbs into different remedies. Harrison's master (who was also Xu's master - so, their master?) had taught him a lot about teas, tinctures, salves, and other similar things but had mostly focused on the sorts of materials one would find in Seesai. Xu knew all about that and then some -- Portia had a surprising amount of wild-growing herbs all around the city and Harrison loved learning the name, the feel, and the smell of each new one.

Xu had seemed a bit distracted this morning when he'd let Harrison inside; there was a new pile of paperwork on the doctor's desk regarding the clinic expansion -- he hoped nothing had fallen through on those plans. Xu was so excited and so was he; the thought of studying medicine under a real living AI...it was more than he could have imagined.

A little bit scary too. Would the Church get mad at him? Surely they wouldn't begrudge knowledge that cured the sick and helped the injured.

His thoughts were interrupted when the clinic door opened; he actually jumped a bit at the sound -- who would be here this early? Xu had barely been gone ten minutes.

It was a slender, petite woman. She had damp black hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, big blue eyes, pale skin, and had a thick scarf on along with a jacket that she was only wearing on the right side of her with the left half of the jacket flapping free.

Her left lower arm was swaddled in a pale blue towel that had a slowly spreading bloodstain on it.

"Oh, dear - you're bleeding. Come in."

The woman nodded and scurried over to the desk; Harrison instead waved her over toward the hospital bed area where a rolling metal table sat then he quickly washed his hands before heading over himself. He carefully guided her arm over the table and began to peel the towel back.

"Good morning. I was on the beach and fell onto some driftwood and it uh...stuck."

Harrison gingerly pulled the towel free and winced when he revealed the stick of driftwood that had pierced cleanly through the outer edge of her arm. The ends had some scrape marks and had been clearly broken off on each end; it had probably been a much longer piece and she'd broken it down to size to get the towel around it. It was about as thick as his pinky finger and at first glance it looked to be just through the upper layers of fat and skin - it didn't seem deep enough to have knicked an artery or damaged muscle. "Can you move your fingers?"

She wiggled her fingers but it was clear it hurt to do so; he nodded and hurried over to a cabinet.

"That's good - let me get a few things to numb that so I can remove the stick."

"Ok. I'll be glad for some numbing - it hurts."

He came back with an armload of bottles and rolls of gauze, and the little leather-bound kit that held Xu's surgical tools. The woman was surprisingly calm as he set to injecting an anesthetic but a few moments later it was clear it was kicking in as she visibly relaxed; she wriggled a bit to let the jacket fall off her and into the floor.

Now he set to opening up the things he'd need and cutting a few lengths of gauze to have immediately at hand for when he got that branch free; with everything ready he paused to take a final, careful, close up look at what he was about to tackle.

As he'd already noticed the stick was about the width of his pinky; it seemed incredibly bad luck that the branch had penetrated rather than just snapped as it didn't seem all that strong. Without the ends of the stick he couldn't really tell which direction the stick had penetrated from - the best he could guess was it entered from the back of the arm and come out the top and the branch was a little lose inside its "hole" on the top of her arm - a bigger exit wound than entry.

Very carefully he tested how easily it could move; to his surprise it seemed very willing to slide out of place and soon he had the little eight inch long piece of wood in hand.

"Wow, that was easy."

He offered the woman a reassuring smile. "It sure was - you're lucky. Now to clean it up."

The edges of what he thought was the entry point of the injury were pretty neat and had an obvious ring of dirt around it. The bleeding had mostly stopped, which was a good sign; he pulled out a tiny penlight from Xu's surgical kit and had a quick look around the inner part of the entry wound and didn't see any immediate debris that might be stuck in there -- no splinters or anything like that. When he checked the bigger top hole though he could see dark slivers of polished-looking wood.

Clicking off the penlight he swapped it for a pair of tweezers and began plucking the splinters free. Once he'd gotten all that he could see he sanitized the edges of the wound (though he couldn't quite get all the dirt off from the entry point - maybe that was the start of bruising instead) and flushed saline through the entire puncture to clean out any dirt or sand that he couldn't see.

"All right...now-"

At that moment the clinic door opened; Harrison paused mid-sentence and looked up to see Dr. Xu framed in the doorway with a bundle of something leafy and green in one hand. At the sight of them Xu let the plants drop to the floor and hurried over.

"What happened?"

"She says she fell," Harrison answered.

The woman looked between them with clear confusion on her face. "Am I hearing double?"

"No, sorry," Xu replied. "We just sound alike. Funny coincidence."

The doctor came over and, to Harrison's surprise, didn't immediately take over from him; in fact he seemed more interested in gauging what Harrison had done thus far.

"Well at least you're not twins," the woman laughed.

Harrison managed a smile at that but went on with finishing cleaning out the wound. "As I was about to say, I can't stitch this up because there's a risk that if there's anything in there that the saline didn't get out it'll cause an infection. What you'll need to do is keep this clean, change the bandages several times a day - especially if they get wet, sweaty, or dirty - and let whatever drains out of there drain out. If it starts bleeding again or gets infected come right back and we'll see what else needs to be done."

As he talked to looked over to Xu; the man was nodding approvingly at him, and Harrison felt a small surge of pride before he turned his attention back to the woman.

"Ok. Can I buy some things for pain and also some bandages?"

"Of course," Xu answered before Harrison could. He left Harrison to finish up with the injury and went over to begin gathering what the woman would need.

She looked between them again and then leaned in toward Harrison. "So are you two...related, or something?"

Harrison shook his head and began to slather on an antibiotic cream. "Nope. He's my teacher."

"Oh. Wild. Are you both from here?"

"I'm from Lucien," Harrison replied. "I'm not sure about the doctor."

The woman grinned at him. "I'm from Lucien too. Small world."

Harrison paused to smile at her, then began to wind the bandage around her arm. "Way smaller than it used to be, that's for sure."

Xu came over then with a cloth bag; the woman visibly winced when Xu put a hand on her right shoulder and he was quick to yank it back.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's ok. I think I uh, sprained my shoulder when I fell. I tried to catch myself but managed to flip myself over and really waggle this thing around when I did." She pointed at the length of wood taken out of her arm. "I probably made it a lot worse."

"It's really not that bad. I'm actually surprised." Harrison tied off the bandage and straightened, blowing out a sigh. "You got really lucky. It was a really clean wound."

"I guess so." The woman turned to Xu and eyed the bag. "How much is that."

"This should last you four or five days and it's 460 gols."

The woman held her good hand out for the bag then seemed to think better of it and began to dig in her pockets instead. "That's a lot less than I was expecting. I'll take it."

Harrison started cleaning up as Xu handled the money and final instructions for the wound care. When the woman had gone Xu then retrieved the bundle of herbs and came over to sit them on his desk.

"Quite a morning, it seems."

Harrison nodded as he swept the soiled gauze into the trash can and began to clean up blood spots. The section of driftwood was still on the table; he picked it up and turned it over in his hands, then found it easily snapped in two between his fingers. "What rotten luck to have fallen in just the right way to get this through your arm."

He threw it away on top of the gauze and went to wash his hands.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 13 #Arlo #Dr. Xu #Phyllis #My Time at Portia

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 4 years

Text

Therapy (fanfic)

I’m currently on Thanksgiving break from school and was in a writing mood. So here is a fanfiction about Lydia’s relationship with therapy.

TW: bullying, mentions of suicide*, grief, mourning

*the mentions of suicide is only the canon of the musical, after “Invisible” and before/during “Say my name”

When Emily first died he wanted someone to help him bring back his once happy daughter, he would give anything to just see her smile again, or tell those silly jokes that he never understood but made Emily snort. He couldn’t stand to see the sight of Lydia dressed in black, her eyes always puffy and red. The weeks leading up to Emily’s passing Charles and Lydia were constantly in the hospital by her side. Charles figured that the little time Emily had left she would want to be with her daughter and that eighth-grade English classes came second. Even after the funeral, Charles didn’t force Lydia to go back to school until she said she was ready, he even suggested online school but she insisted she would go back.

It went alright at first, he saw little rays of the old Lydia peaking through, but after a few days, he got a phone call to urgently come to the school and pick Lydia up. When he rushed to the office he was greeted by a sniffling Lydia hugging herself. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with her father as they walked out to the car. He tried to get the story off of her what had happened but she stayed silent the entire ride home and locked herself in her room. It took a few phone calls to the school for him to find out that a student Lydia had problems with in the past had been harassing her about Emily, and Lydia snapped when the boy started a rumor that Emily had killed herself. Charles went up to her bedroom but there was no response when he knocked on the door, just stifled sobs that were clearly being muffled by a pillow or blanket. She didn’t go back to school for another two weeks.

The school suggested Lydia go to grief counseling, have professionals help her work through all the emotions she was feeling. The school psychologist met with Lydia once a week, and all they were able to tell her was that one day she wouldn’t feel like this anymore. That her mother wasn’t in pain anymore, and that she was in a better place now. None of that helped her, Lydia wondered what better place it was if she couldn’t be with her mother. She started skipping her sessions with the counselor. She didn’t see a point to going anyway, he never listened to her about what she really wanted to say. He even accused her of being selfish for wishing her mother was back, and immature for being angry at the world for taking Emily from her. She lied to her father about it, she knew he didn’t care either so long as she plastered a fake smile on her face he would gush about her progress. It took less than two weeks for him to realize she hadn’t been going, though he never would have noticed if her one teacher hadn’t found her hiding in the library when she was supposed to be with the counselor. Instead of being asked why she didn’t go to her appointments she was given detention and a phone call was made to home.

The school told Charles that they had done all they could do to help Lydia, but he may want to consider outside resources if they want to see actual results. During his brief search for a therapist for his daughter, he found Delia on a facebook page. She sounded perfect, and he hoped that Lydia would be more willing to the idea of seeing a life coach instead of a therapist. He booked a session with Delia and drove nearly an hour out of town to take Lydia there. Delia was like a ray of sunshine. Her positivity bubbling out of her and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw her. Lydia was less than impressed and was extremely hesitant to even go into her office.

Five months later and Lydia still hadn’t made any progress. She hardly slept or ate, her grades were tanking, her teachers called home almost weekly about her lack of focus or outright absence in class. She still went to see Delia, and though Charles had his doubts when he didn’t see any results, Delia assured him that life coaching can take months before any progress is seen. Her methods were ...unconventional, the crystals threw him off but the fact that Lydia had an opinion on them (though it was often mockery) gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe her sense of humor was slowly starting to shine through. However, there was a point when Charles knew that no amount of life coaching would help Lydia. She was being harshly bullied in school, he knew high school could be rough but there would be days she would beg him to not make her go. She would never tell him why but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The same boy from the previous year was at it again, starting out with just cruel jokes that when they garnered a reaction from Lydia he would mock her by asking if she was going to go cry to her mommy about it. Charles tried everything to force the school to stop it, but they claimed their hands were tied. The breaking point came when Lydia finally had enough and lashed out on the boy, slapping him in the face.

She sat in the principal's office sulking and trying to hold back tears while the boy sat in the seat next to her, a bright red mark on his cheek. Charles tried to remain stoic when the boy was simply given a warning to not instigate Lydia. He was dismissed back to class and given a sympathetic look from the principal. Charles asked to speak to the principal alone and Lydia was sent to wait outside the door.

“Mr. Deetz, your daughter is facing up to a two-week suspension for assaulting that boy. We have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying at this school.”

“Is that a fact? He’s been bullying her for months now, and the school has done nothing about it but tell me my daughter needs psychiatric help. She went to your school therapist, she sees another therapist, but I think the problem runs a lot deeper than anything the school can help.” Charles replied, “Look, it has been hard for Lydia since her mother died five months ago-”

“And we are sorry for her loss but it is not an excuse for violent outbursts.”

“If you would let me finish...I want to give Lydia a fresh start. The school year is ending in less than a month and this summer I’m going to be moving to Connecticut, just to distance her from the whole situation. If you suspend her from school she is going to think that we’re moving as a punishment. Could you just do me a favor and let her off with a warning?”

“Mr. Deetz, letting her go without any consequences would be sending a terrible message to the other students, especially the boy she assaulted.”

“She slapped him! He got in her face and was bullying her and she slapped him. I’m not even mad about it. Give her detention if you have to make a message out of her. I promise you she will not be giving you any more problems this school year.”

He took Charles up on his offer and Lydia got three days of detention and was made to write a formal apology letter to the boy for hitting him. Though the letter was more spite than apology the school accepted it, and her punishment was over. The school year ended and as Charles had promised the family went to Connecticut.

After a strange first week in the new house, it seemed that Lydia had finally begun to settle into her new life. Despite everything that happened she seemed to be genuinely happy and was even accepting of him and Delia’s relationship. He tried not to be hurt when Lydia would favor the Maitlands some days, but he figured if it was making her happy he didn’t have a problem with it. He stopped hovering over his as much, gave her more freedom, and thought that she was progressing well. It wasn’t until a month later when Barbara asked to talk to him that he realized how not okay Lydia really was.

“She’s been having nightmares, Charles. Bad ones, every night. She’s been trying to hide them from us. Stuffing towels under her door, muffling her crying with pillows. I had to sit in her bed all night with her asleep in my lap just to make sure she actually slept. I’m worried about her, I don't like that she’s trying to keep this from us.”

“Did she tell you what they were about at least.”

Barbara nodded, “Usually her mother dying, but she said something about how she feels terrible for how she acted, how scared she was when I ...when Beetlejuice tricked her. She told me about how alone she felt in the Netherworld. I could handle her telling me that, but when I tried to tell her it was okay and that we forgave her she started panicking, screaming about how she doesn’t deserve our forgiveness, or how she deserves these nightmares as a punishment. I know Lydia looks up to me, but I am really out of my depths here, she wouldn’t listen to reason at all. I only think she agreed with me in the end because she was going to pass out from the exhaustion of the whole episode.”

“I thought she had been coping better, that’s why I haven’t pushed her towards anything, I didn’t think she needed it anymore. She seems to be happy, especially with you guys. You just seem to understand her better than I can, and I’m her father for god sake. I’ve been at this for months now Barbara and I just feel like I’m constantly letting her down.”

“She doesn’t need perfection Charles, she needs someone to be there for her. I know she knows that we love her, but something is preventing her from breaking through that final barrier and letting us show it. The stuff that happened, it’s not typical. Most fifteen-year-olds don’t live in haunted houses or are technically widows. She has a lot of trauma to work through, and I don’t exactly know how to go about it. I mean I’m a dead...but grown woman and it still took me a while to process the events. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for Lydia.”

“How hard what has been for me?” Lydia asked, sleepily peeking out from behind the doorframe of the kitchen.

Charles carefully walked over to Lydia and gave her a hug, it wasn’t uncommon for them to hug in the morning so Lydia didn’t hesitate. He rubbed her shoulders and when they broke the embrace he held her hands gently in his, “Honey Barbara told me about last night.”

She couldn’t help but feel hurt when she looked over at the ghost sitting at the table, “I had a rough night. That’s all.”

“I think it’s a little more than that. Look I know I have been far from perfect when helping you with everything that’s been happening in your life. If Emily were here she would know exactly what to do, but I want to help you, sweetheart. We all want to make sure you are okay.”

Anger bubbled in Lydia’s tiny frame, “There is nothing wrong with me! I know exactly what you’re going to say next, dad. You’re going to tell me that you want to send me to some shrink who is going to fix me and make me the perfect happy daughter you want.” she was yelling now, a hint of trembling in her voice as she tried to fight back angry tears, “I’m right aren’t I? You just want me to magically be fixed-”

“Lydia’s you aren’t broken.” he pulled slightly at her arm, guiding her to sit at the table with them, “This isn’t about fixing you, it’s about giving you support and guidance.”

“I’ve been doing just fine, you guys are supportive.”

Barbara chimed in, “I know we support you, but sweetie last night told me that you need more. There is no shame in going to talk to somebody, they can really help.”

“No, they don’t!” Lydia shouted, “All they do is patronize you and tell you everything is going to be alright, or that everything happens for a reason. There is no reason for anything! There’s no good reason that my mom died. They tell me she’s in a better place now? I’ve been there..the netherworld sucks and just knowing that my mom is alone in there, without me. That makes me feel so much worse. Everyone that I’ve seen just makes me feel worse.”

“I didn’t know the school therapist told that to you.” Charles admitted, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because dad, the only time you’d pay attention to me was when I pretended everything was fine. It wasn’t fine, I’m still not fine! I am so sick of not being normal, it’s a constant fight to convince myself that life is even worth living.”

“Honey,” Barbara rubbed Lydia’s hand with her thumb, “Of course life if worth living, why would you think it’s not.”

Lydia couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “You saw me on the roof, you can’t even pretend to know that I’ve felt this way.”

“I never knew that’s why you were up there. I thought that Beetlejuice brought you there.”

“Wait..never knew what?”

Barbara and Lydia had both forgotten that Charles didn’t know about the events that transpired on the roof. Lydia mentally slapped herself for bringing it up, because now she was going to lose everything she had worked for.

“Before you say anything I’m not..like that anymore. I don’t want to die, mainly because I know what comes next, but it is just so hard to keep trying. Everything feels so pointless. Any slight progress I make, I can’t even be happy about because I know how pathetic I am when I cry myself to sleep at night or wake up terrified from nightmares that I can’t control. I don’t want to reach out to anyone because then you all look at me like” she gestures to them, “that. Like I’m some stray puppy.”

“How come you never told me that you...that you tried to kill yourself?”

“Because I didn’t go through with it. Beetlejuice convinced me not to, and though it was with terrible reasoning, I didn’t end up doing it.”

“If he hadn’t been there, would you have?”

Lydia paused, she didn’t know the answer to that. It was so hard to think back on her mental state back then, she was so blind with grief and betrayal from her father’s new fiance that she wasn’t thinking anything through clearly. She knew now that she wanted to live, but she couldn’t say for certain that if Beetlejuice hadn’t been there that she wouldn’t have gone through with it.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, allowing a rogue tear to go down her cheek as she braced herself for Barabra and her father yelling at her for how stupid she was, and how little trust they now had in her. Instead, she didn’t hear any yelling, she felt arms around her and knew she was being hugged. She opened her eyes and saw her father crying, muttering about how glad he was that he didn’t lose her too. She began to cry as well, nuzzling into the crook of his neck while he just held her.

“I’m proud of you.” Barbara told her, “Beetlejuice may have been there at the right place at the right time to distract you, but it was you who made the decision Lydia. You were the one who chose to live, don’t forget that.”

“I am proud of you too. You say that you’re small and pathetic, but I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as strong as you. To have gone through so much and to keep going?”

“But what about the nightmares?” Lydia wiped at her eyes, “I just want them to stop.”

“I want to help you, Lydia.” her father said, “I am not the best person for the job. I know you’ve had bad experiences before, and a lot of that is my fault for not listening to you and being so caught up in my own world. I promise that this time will be different. If we go to the counselor and after two appointments you don’t like that...we won’t go back to them.”

Barbara smiled, “I know a great children’s therapist, I went to college with her and she has an office a few blocks away from here. I think she could really help you, sweetie.”

Hesitantly Lydia nodded, willing to try one more time.

The ride to the office one week later was a strange one. She had been researching online how to connect with a therapist and she had been following some of the advice such as keeping a journal of all the strong feelings she had been having over the week. She held it tight to her chest as they walked in the building, the juvenile paintings on the walls didn’t instill confidence in Lydia that they would be able to help her with her mature problems but she didn’t want to give up just yet. Her father gave her a quick kiss on the forehead when she was called back, she took in a deep breath and followed the receptionist to the room.

The office was a lot more minimalist than she had been expecting. The walls were a soothing grey color and there was a white couch lined with fluffy pillows on top of them. Next to the couch was a table set up with some strange objects like a square of sand and a tiny rake, a stress ball, a stuffed bear, and a cube with little buttons on it. Lydia observantly looked around the room while she waited on the couch for the therapist to arrive, she admired the bookshelf filled with impressive books and smiled when she noticed a photo of Barbara and who she assumed her counselor was in college.

“Hi, Lydia sorry to keep you waiting.” a short woman walked into the room and gently shut the door, “My name is Amanda, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Were you a family friend of Barbara’s”

Lydia shook her hand and smiled politely, “You could say that.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” Amanda lamented, “So what brings you here today?”

“Where should I start?”

“From wherever you’d like. We can talk about today, we could talk about last week, we could talk about three years ago. It is completely up to you.”

Lydia took in a shaky breath, “Seven months ago my mother died.”

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kamandzak · 3 years

Text

OOooooooof sad things ahead

It’s been a while, y’all

Context: Andrew finally reaches out to his deceased boyfriends parents and receives a response after a very telling doctors appointment. Telling his sisters will be the worst of all. [Scene not complete]

Recommended listening: Funeral for a Tree from The Lorax

tw: suicidal ideation

Other excerpts and bits and boops: x x x x

Anita Davis Hello, sweet Andrew. We hope you are doing well. We haven’t been great about keeping in contact with you and are sorry about that. Truthfully, we weren’t sure how to talk to you either. You provide another reminder of Greg and for a while, it’s going to sting. Please call us sometime and let us know how you are doing on all fronts, or email if you’d rather not talk on the phone. That was the first thing Greg told us about you and we know that habits die hard. Love you eternally.

I stifle tears as I sit in the waiting room of the doctors office, palms sweating and Tessa across the street at the local Goodwill, searching for dinner plates. I had expected nothing other than support and understanding from the Davis’ but seeing it in front of me is a reminder how much I love them.

I feel foolish as I read and reread Anita’s text. If I knew what she was going to say, why didn’t I reach out earlier? This sort of text is the exact kind of thing I have needed since Greg left. Why was I so afraid of talking to them? Why am I currently still afraid of responding and saying the wrong thing?

I only knew Greg for four years. They knew him for twenty-four. In comparison - a boyfriend versus someone’s parents - my inability to carry on with some sense of normalcy seems trifling. If Anita can talk so openly about Greg’s death and our relationship, why can’t I let myself do the same thing?

Tessa: Checking out now Will be over in a bit!

She’s hoping for some sort of good news; I can tell by her punctuation and the fact that she’s been giving me updates for the last hour. Just got in! Look at these bad boys. Aren’t they the ugliest things you’ve ever seen? Are you in the office yet? Good luck!

But the truth is, Frank was right. It is stage three. Turns out four years of sporadic doctors appointments and even less consistent medication does nothing but bad for someone with a chronic disease that is worsened by lack of self-care. I’m a day, week, month, year away from death and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

Still, I’d rather talk about myself dying than Greg. You’ll see him again, the self-help books and commenters of Reddit tell me, and with each passing day of being sick, that reality comes more and more into focus. It almost can’t come soon enough.

My research calls it suicidal ideation: You just think about suicide all the time, which I do. Sitting at home, sitting in Tessa’s car, even in the doctor’s office or when we’re all seated together for a sibling dinner. How easy it would be, I think, to take a knife from the counter, to open the door of the moving car and throw myself out, to cross the overpass near the doctor and leap, to finish Beth’s red wine with a bottle of aspirin. Death is everywhere in every sense of the word. I don’t know how to stop it.

Tessa: Here!

I sigh and rise.

Not only do I not know how to stop it, but I’m not sure I want to.

We ride in silence until home, where I’m surprised to see three other cars. God damn it, Tess.

“Don’t tell me we’re having another intervention.”

“I’m eternally optimistic, Andrew. You know that.”

“So you called them here before we even knew what was going to happen?”

“We need all the good juju we can get. Here, I got some groceries. Help me.”

I want to run. I want to run far away from the sad stares and hiccups and tears that await me on the other side of the door. Disappointing Tessa with news of my slow demise was going to crush my heart enough. I couldn’t do the same to the others.

I reach into the trunk, extracting bags, arm brushing against my sisters.

“Andrew!” she yelps. “Your hands are fucking freezing!”

“Yeah. Bad circulation. That happens when-.” I cut short.

“When what happens?”

“I’m not having this conversation more than once. Get in the house and we’ll talk.”

That’s all it takes, really, and Tessa’s attitude flips on its head. I watch her rush inside and as a UPS truck trundles down the road I wonder what it would be like to throw myself in front of it.

I need to go to therapy.

“Tess says it’s bad,” Penelope starts as we all sit on Tessa’s king-sized bed.

“I didn’t tell her anything.”

“You told me you’re not having this conversation more than once,” Tessa quotes. “If it were anything good that wouldn’t be the case. If you want to talk about something else first, we can. We can talk about Gr-.”

“I would rather talk about anything other than him,” I snap. “Even if it’s confirming everything you guys assumed.”

“What do you mean?” Clara whispers. “Don’t tell me Frank-.”

“He was spot on, Clara. He went to school for years so he could diagnose me with Stage 3 HIV from miles away. Smart guy, huh?” I huff against the silence.

The words are in the open; the poison that rots away at my mental status trickles through the air and into my sisters ears and souls.

#writer #writing #author #novel #novelist #new project #cold #tw #tw: suicidal ideation #suicidal ideation

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miss-spooky-eyes · 4 years

Text

Riddle (Part II)

My Imperial Agent Devinahl’s backstory continues, and doesn’t get any happier.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of child abuse and child prostitution (in this part); emotionally abusive adults; ableist language. It is not fun.

NOTES: All names by the Star Wars name generator; all Star Wars universe mistakes by me. I do not own the Star Wars universe.

The type of riddle poem described by Sifter does exist, but from medieval France, not Alderaan; and it’s spelled ‘devinalh’, not ‘devinahl’. I switched the spelling when I created this OC, not knowing I would eventually feel compelled to write this ...

Part I: Stanza

PART TWO: GELLA

Her name is Gella Marogan, and she is Doctor Korpil's best.

The name 'Gella' sounds like a kind of flower they have on Draavi Prime, and Doctor Korpil likes to make use of this. 'Our littlest flower,' he will call her, laying a paternal hand on her hair as he beams at the men and women standing around them; she is the smallest of his children, if not the youngest. 'Our smallest miracle.'

She knows, when he does this, how to nestle into his side as if shy, and look up through her eyelashes at the faces smiling down at her. Good for half a million at least, or so Doctor Korpil tells her.

She has been at the clinic for years, and she understands many things now that she did not when she first joined the other children.

She always knew that Draavi Prime was a hospital world, famous for the medcenters and surgeons and clinics of its capital city. Now she understands that it’s a rich world, too, because unlike some of the other hospital worlds, Draavi Prime isn't part of the Republic, merely affiliated with it. This means that people from the Republic, from the non-aligned worlds and even from the Empire can come there for treatments which are banned in the Republic - extreme cosmetic surgeries, experimental therapies, risky augmentation techniques; you can get anything done on Draavi Prime, if you have the credits.

Even the Empire's attempts to take the system, which have systematically devastated the outer planets but have yet to reach Draavi Prime, haven't stopped a percentage of the wealthiest people in the galaxy coming to the city in search of remedies, therapies, enhancements, and it's on these people that Doctor Korpil preys.

She has learned much of this from the other children, once she was finally allowed to join them. It's important to Doctor Korpil's plans that the clinic looks like the happy haven for refugee children his brochures promise, and so they are well fed, lavished with toys and books, allowed to spend hours playing in the courtyard; even given lessons in the well-appointed classroom, although the 'teachers' are the clerks that monitor Doctor Korpil's computers, and when there are no visitors, the children are mainly left alone to educational software. She learns, eats, plays and laughs with the rest, all of them with metal implants gleaming somewhere on their faces or prosthetics on their bodies.

Gella is particular friends with a plump boy named Mithus, whose implants are thick and bulky and wrap round the back of his neck, and a tall girl named Tay, who has a prosthetic arm.

These aren't their real names, of course. No child who has got as far as the public areas of the clinic would ever dream of saying their real names.

Their number shrinks and grows, but there are generally less than fifteen of them, although more children come to the clinic every month. Few of them reach the public areas, though. Mithus has whispered to her that some children's implants don't take, or their brains can't handle the added stimulus. Tay thinks it's more likely that they don't get through 'the office'. Gella keeps her own counsel. She's getting good at that.

She understands now why Doctor Korpil would have taken her from the camp even though she was healthy, why he told that lie about Larbec Syndrome (she looked it up on the learning computers, just to be sure, and of course there is no such disease). It can’t be easy, finding children who are suitable for his purposes.

It's taken her some time to learn the full extent of Doctor Korpil's scam. It has three layers.

First, there is the charity. Scarcely a week goes by that Doctor Korpil isn't invited to attend a reception or speak at a gala about the work he does with the poor refugee children, and often begged to ‘bring some of your little angels as well'. With so many rich people on Draavi Prime, undergoing lengthy, boring treatments or waiting for surgeries, there are plenty of these events, held in ballrooms and elegant salons and rooftop gardens, with crowds of men and women dressed in their elaborate best, ready to feel that they are doing something for the less fortunate.

Doctor Korpil takes some or all of the children, dressed in the nicest clothes the charity can buy for them, and they stand with him as he gives an eloquent address about his charity, explaining how the children with him were the lucky few he'd been able to save from the refugee camps, suffering from injuries or conditions brought on by the devastation the war had rained on their worlds; how he had used his knowledge and resources to enable them to see, hear, walk, play and be full members of society again; how he wishes he could do more for the many, many children (for more refugees arrive on Draavi Prime every month or so) but is limited by lack of funds ...

Doctor Korpil is usually presented with a large credit cheque by the organizer of the event at this point, but there's more to be done; after his speech, the children are expected to circulate through the room, each of them carrying a small basket. They are allowed to tug plaintively at the sleeves of military officials talking intensely to bureaucrats; to allow senator's wives and Republic officials and society matrons to sweep them into powdered, scented embraces; to answer the questions and give their names and tell their stories. Anything for a credit chit or a promissory note dropped in the basket.

Gella is so good at this game, which is not after all so different from what she did at the refugee camp, that once her tears get a planetary governor's wife to strip off her entire flamegem bracelet and toss it into the basket. When they got back to the clinic, Doctor Korpil lifted her and spun her around for that. 'Little flower, I knew it when I first saw you - you're worth your weight in jewels!'

This is partly why Doctor Korpil is so picky about the children he takes; he doesn't want anybody unpleasantly disfigured, nobody maimed in a way that can't be fixed with a shiny prosthetic. He likes small, pretty children with holo-genic implants that don't cover up their big, sad eyes. It's why he likes Gella.

Doctor Korpil doesn't rely on the generosity of the rich people, though. Far from it. That's where the second layer comes in.

Most of the children, like Gella, have some sort of facial implant. Gella has long since learned to narrow her focus so that, although she can hear and see more than human ears and eyes should be able to, she only perceives what is in a 'normal' range, to keep her brain from being overloaded by stimuli.

But just because she isn't consciously aware of hearing something doesn't mean her implants aren't picking it up. As the children circulate through the crowd, smiling pleadingly and holding up their baskets, their implants hear and record what is being said above their heads, by wealthy and influential and important men and women seizing a moment to discuss something important, barely even aware of the presence of the charity children except as a tug on the sleeve and an instinctive response to stuff a credit chit into the basket. Gatherings that do not allow commlinks or personal datapads for the sake of privacy and security ushered in Doctor Korpil and his children, and stood back to let them leave again, their little baskets full of generosity and their little heads full of information.

Gella and the rest are barely aware of what they have heard, but their implants have recorded it all, and back at the clinic, Doctor Korpil's clerks comb through it. The children agree don’t know exactly what the clerks look for, but they agree between themselves that it must be scraps of information let fall or indiscretions hinted at too heavily, any fragments of data they can piece together to get to something compromising or valuable. They do not know what exactly Doctor Korpil does with whatever he learns; does he sell that information to the Republic? To the Empire? Both, depending on what he's learned? Gella is certain, however, that at least some of it is used for blackmail. Because of what she knows about the third layer of Doctor Korpil's business.

Some of the children never learn about the third layer. Most do.

Gella does, less than a year after joining Doctor Korpil's children, when a Republic senator's aide in florid dress, with a row of decorations on his sash, takes her by the hand and steers her out of the crowded reception room they are in, telling her he has a treat for a good little girl. Puzzled, but not wanting to upset Doctor Korpil by offending a guest, Gella obediently followed him until she realized that they were crossing the lobby towards the elevators. Not wanting to go with him, but not wanting to cause a scene, she managed to bump into a decorative table and drop her basket, spilling credit chits across the floor, which gave her an excuse to burst into noisy tears. Staff converged on them to pick up her basket and the spilled chits, and in the confusion, Gella was able to slip her hand free from his sweaty paw and tearfully beg for Doctor Korpil until the senator's aide had no choice but to take her back into the reception room.

In the speeder on the way back to the clinic, when Doctor Korpil asked her what the fuss had been about, she told him.

Before she has finished telling him, he is shaking his head sadly, and her mouth goes dry, because this is exactly the way that he used to shake his head in the office as he lifted the silvery device and pointed at her. He lifts his hands, and she can't stop herself from flinching, but although she is sure he notices, he gives no sign of it. He unbuckles the safety restraint, and lifts her into his lap, cuddling her against him.

'Dear Gella,' he says sadly, and although he is only speaking to her, she knows his words are meant for all the children in the transport. 'Did you forget what I told you?' He taps very gently against her implant with one finger; the thunder in her ear is deafening. 'I will always know where you are. Nothing can happen to you that I don't know about.' He ducks his head to smile at her. 'Did you forget, silly girl?'

Next time that she, or any of them, find themselves being taken away from a party by a grown-up, Doctor Korpil continues, they should go. Go right along with that grown-up and do whatever they say. These are rich and important people, after all, and if they want to make a fuss of the children or play with them privately, then there's nothing wrong with that, not when Doctor Korpil knows exactly where they are and what is happening to them. It's not as if Doctor Korpil is going to let anything bad happen to his little flowers, is it? He beams around the inside of the transport at all the faces upturned to him, while one hand strokes Gella's hair.

So the next time a grown-up tries to take her out of the restaurant which is hosting this particular gala and upstairs to his apartment, Gella goes with him, docile, hand in hand. And it's just like Doctor Korpil said. She has only been there a few minutes when the door to the suite bursts open and in comes Doctor Korpil, two of his clerks at his heels, gathering Gella up and clasping her close to his side while he storms at the rich man, demanding to know what he thinks he's doing, threatening, condemning, while the rich man sweats and pleads and bemoans. Gella hides her head in Doctor Korpil's jacket, a show of fear and trust which also means she doesn't run the risk of ruining anything by making the wrong expression at the wrong time, while Doctor Korpil slowly allows the rich man to make him less angry. By the time they leave the suite, Gella still clasped firmly to Doctor Korpil's side, the rich man's clothes are stained with sweat. The two clerks stay behind, to supervise the credit transfer.

'See, little flower?' Doctor Korpil says fondly to her as they stand in the elevator, his hand stroking her hair again. 'I told you, nothing can happen to you that I don't know about.'

This happens twice more, with different grown-ups in different buildings but Doctor Korpil still bursting in just the same way, and then one day it's the same Republic senator's aide who started it all who draws Gella aside, his hand shaking as he holds hers and steers her out of the reception room. Gella follows him quietly this time, and smiles encouragingly at him when he fumbles with the key to the suite, and sits where he tells her and folds her dress neatly on a chair when he tells her and doesn't realize until it's almost over that Doctor Korpil isn't going to come this time.

After that, she never knows whether Doctor Korpil will come or not. Sometimes, it's unassuming people she'd never have picked out who get to play their games with her without interruption, because they have offered Doctor Korpil something that's somehow worth more than what they would pay him to keep quiet about being caught red-handed doing ... the things they do. It's better not to say it, even to yourself, the older children whisper to the younger ones, under cover of the shouts and screams of playtime in the courtyard. Doctor Korpil knows everything that happens to you, doesn't he? He wouldn't let anybody hurt you, would he? Not with all that precious metal in your head. So if he lets something happen to you, it stands to reason that thing isn't really hurting you, doesn't it?

Gella whispers this, in time, to other, smaller children, her hand stroking their hair.

She still opens the door in her head to the secret room when she's alone at night, but these days, more and more, she finds that she doesn't want to be inside that room with Mother and Father and Scerra and the old man from the camp and the rest of them. She imagines, instead, a new room, still with yellow walls, but everything else white: The floors, the ceiling, the curtains. There is only one thing in the room: A bed, as clean and white and empty as the rest of it. The room has no door. No one else can get in. This is where she goes, on those nights. Long before the nurses are finished sponging her down or running the scanners over bruises and sprains, she is safely curled up in that clean white bed, in that empty room.

Time passes, and it's easiest just to be Gella, grateful Gella, and let everything else - the refugee camp, the office sessions, the things that happen in the private rooms - be as far away and unimportant as the Empire and the Republic and their distant battles in the sky.

Still, Gella has a new fear now. She is getting older, and there are no children older than fourteen among Doctor Korpil's little miracles. Being so small helps - at twelve, Gella looks ten at most - but she knows that the years of being malnourished in the refugee camp won't save her forever. Teenagers are no good for Doctor Korpil's purposes; he needs them as little and unthreatening as possible. One day, Tay is gone, her room empty and blank as if she had never lived in it; soon there is another child who sleeps there, cuddling the toy bantha that used to be Tay's.

They do not need to be told not to ask the adults where their friends go. But in corners of the playground, under cover of the noise of a music lesson, or between mouthfuls at mealtimes, they exchange theories, rumours, whispers. Some of the children think that Doctor Korpil simply sends the children back to their parents; others cling to the idea that the older children are adopted by rich families; Gella does not know whether to be scornful of those children who need to delude themselves so badly, or jealous that they can apparently do so successfully. Most of the others whisper about slavery, brothels, prostitution, but this seems, to Gella, as unlikely as the idea they would simply be allowed to return to their families; it's as if the other children have forgotten one of the first things that Doctor Korpil told them, about the price of their implants and the upkeep they require. Brothel owners and slave traders can get the bodies they require without having to pay for ones with metal parts which require expensive maintenance.

This is why Gella, unwillingly, believes the worst whispers that pass from child to child. Two things make them valuable: Their youth and smallness and ability to loosen a rich person's purse-strings by one method or another on the one hand, and the metal and machines bonded to their bodies on the other. When they lose the first, doesn't it make the most sense that Doctor Korpil would simply salvage the second, and attach it to another, more useful body?

Whatever was left over, she doesn't think it would be very valuable to anybody.

Gella cannot help noticing familiar-looking components in some of the implants and prosthetics the new arrivals sport. She tries very hard not to recognize parts of Tay's prosthetic arm, now attached to a freckled boy who says his name is Eskol. Those are Stanza's thoughts, not Gella's; but she needs to be Stanza now in order to be Gella, she needs to be as smart as she can, to be as good as she can at what Doctor Korpil wants her to do.

She concentrates, studying the names and faces of the rich and powerful people at their parties, targeting the ones who are most generous or who seem to have the most valuable secrets, drifting and weaving in their direction as she circulates through the lavishly-decorated rooms; remembering the ones who pull her aside, too, or who are waiting for her in those private places, the games they like to play, the way they like to begin and end. The Empire take Draavi 3, and Draavi 2, and there is talk above her head of a blockade; now the rich people cannot leave the planet, but it only makes them more determined to enjoy themselves, to congregate at their parties, to give away great handfuls of credit chips as if they can keep themselves safe by pretending hard enough. Gella understands; she is pretending, too, as hard as she can. Pretending that as long as she can still return to Doctor Korpil with her basket stuffed full, as long as he still strokes her hair and calls her his flower as they take the speeder back to the clinic at the end of the night, she is safe. She will be safe.

Gella is at a party at the Fixeve Tower Hotel when it happens. It is a special reception for Doctor Korpil, to recognize and support his work, held in the penthouse reception rooms of the tallest building in the city with floor-to-ceiling windows that command a spectacular view. While Doctor Korpil introduces his little miracles to the gathered dignitaries and has holos taken shaking hands with planetary governors and Republic diplomats and wealthy businessmen, Gella is a hundred floors down, in the bedroom of a private suite in the hotel with a man that she has been brought to before, a man with a pristine white moustache who wears sky-blue robes embroidered with gold.

And that's why Gella lives.

Because as the white-haired man is unfastening her dress with shaking hands and telling her about his own daughter, there is a flash of light from the windows and a sound like tearing concrete that rips through Gella's implants and straight into her brain. In the last split second before the ceiling comes crashing down, the man, moving with a speed she would not have believed possible, grabs Gella and pulls her to the floor beneath him, rolling both of them underneath the massive desk that stands against the wall. And then there is just shaking and shuddering and the tearing sound, and then blackness.

Later, it is the light shining in her eyes that wakes her. It is dark and she doesn't know where she is, but there is a thin beam of light, wavering and bobbing around, disappearing behind shapes she doesn't recognize. Gella coughs; her mouth is full of dust. She makes the loudest noise she can.

There is the faint sound of a startled voice; the light returns, shining in her eyes again. The voice is closer. Gella tries to move; everything hurts and her legs feel like they are on fire with the heavy weight lying across them. She cannot look behind her to see what it is. A second beam of light joins the first, and as they bob and sweep, she begins to understand; she is still underneath the desk, but cannot crawl out from underneath it even if she could move, because there is what looks like a mound of rubble blocking the way, with only small gaps here and there allowing the light to shine through.

The light from torches; she can see hands now, hands in heavy black gloves, pulling at the rubble, trying to clear it away. Through the widening gap, she sees a face, streaked with dirt and sweat. Gloved fingers push up the heavy helmet, marked with the Imperial crest; eyes meet hers.

'Blast me,' she hears him say, 'there's a child in here.'

It takes the Imperials maybe an hour to clear a big enough gap. Two of them, the two that first found her, do the work of painstakingly clearing the rubble without shifting anything which might cause whatever is above them to collapse. Behind them she can see other indistinct shapes, other blurry faces, watching anxiously as they try to prise away enough debris to get Gella out. They talk to her, in voices which are meant to sound reassuring, but she can hear the fear. She lies quietly and waits, gathering her strength, and when they finally clear a big enough space, she lifts her arms silently.

The rescue workers grab her arms and pull; Gella squirms and kicks, trying desperately to free her legs. It's a dark and cramped struggle, twisting in the tiny space beneath the desk, but eventually she manages to wriggle one leg free, then the other, and the Imperials start to pull her out through the small gap. As they do, Gella manages to turn her head and look back, knowing what she will see; the warm weight on her legs was indeed the white-haired man who had pulled her under the desk. As the beams of light from the wrist torches the Imperials are wearing flicker and sweep, she sees that there is something dark trickling from the corner of his mouth, which is moving soundlessly, but his eyes are open. They meet hers, silently pleading.

With a final heave and a painful scrape of skin, she is out into the dark musty air, and one of the men is carrying her, staggering and sliding, across more rubble towards where the door used to be, where more rescue workers are waiting with torches and anxious faces. As he puts her down, medics kneel around her, one of them feeling her shaking arms and legs while another tilts a canteen of water gently towards her lips. She swallows and coughs as the man who carried her kneels down, too. 'Is there anybody else in here?' he asks her, his dirt-streaked face intent but his voice gentle. 'Was there anybody in here with you?'

She shakes her head.

The rescue worker sighs and pats her comfortingly on the shoulder. 'You're a very brave girl.' Then he raises his voice. 'That's it for this floor, people - let's get out of here before the rest comes down.'

Gella doesn't look back as she is carried away.

She doesn't know what her name is now.

When the rescue workers pulled her out of the wreckage of the hotel, she told them, without thinking, that her name was Gella Marogan, so that's what is written on the ID bracelet fastened around her wrist, and that's what the screen above the bed displays, and that's what the doctors and nurses call her on the sunny ward where she has been taken. But it doesn't take her long to realize how stupid that had been. Gella Marogan does not exist outside Doctor Korpil's clinic; she has no parents, no documentation, no refugee number. No explanation for the expensive implants wrapped around her ears. It will not take them much checking before they discover that she is not who she is supposed to be.

And they will check. Gella lies in her hospital bed and watches the holo-news; the Empire has taken Draavi Prime, and after all the years of fighting in the outer system, they have done it with little bloodshed. Just one surgical strike from orbit, levelling a single block. Most of the planet's highest-level officials, as well as most of the most influential Republic citizens on planet, had been at the Fexive Tower Hotel; they had all been killed, and in the confusion, the Empire had taken over, smoothly and efficiently and with minimal resistance. Now, so the holo-news said, they were setting about to restore everything that had been wrong on Draavi Prime, putting it all back in order. The refugee camps, overcrowded with starving, diseased people, were being reorganized, the refugees treated and cured and fed. The hospitals that had catered exclusively to the insatiable appetite of the galaxy's wealthiest inhabitants for cosmetic surgeries were now being used to treat the sick and injured. The Empire was putting everything back in order.

Sooner or later, that will mean Gella, too. Once all her injuries are healed, they will want to put her neatly in her place. But her only place was at Doctor Korpil's clinic, and Doctor Korpil is dead, along with most of his aides.

She will have to go back to being Stanza Tuain, and that prospect, once so dearly longed for, now within arm's reach, is dry and sour in her mouth. How can she explain what Stanza Tuain is doing here, in this hospital bed in the capital city, with machines in her head that make her a walking holo-recorder? How can she tell anyone why she was in that private suite and not at the party with the others? What if they decided someone had to pay for all the things Doctor Korpil had done, and she was the only one left who could be punished?

She could run. No one now is monitoring the signals from her implants; those frequencies are buried in the rubble of the Fixeve Tower Hotel. It would be so easy to slip out of the ward, out of the hospital and into the streets now patrolled by Imperial soldiers. But where would she go? She doesn't even know if her parents and Scerra are alive; the news has said that the casualties in the refugee camps in the last few months were astronomical.

Besides, if she did find her parents ... Gella absently touched her implants, feeling along the edges where the metal was fused to her skin.

If she did find her parents, she would have to tell them. Everything. And it would all stop being locked up safely in the different rooms in her mind, and spill over, and become real.

It doesn't help that being in the hospital - the texture of the sheets, the colour of the lighting, the sounds, the smells - reminds her irresistibly of that first nightmare spell in the clinic, the restraints, the pain. It makes her dizzy and sick, her head feels burning hot, something crawls underneath her skin. Just as she had used Stanza's pain and fear to help her become Gella, she now uses the same pain and fear to her advantage; crying, shaking, screaming when they try to ask her too many questions, so they largely leave her alone. But it cannot last. Her days of being left alone are numbered as surely as her injuries are healing.

Gella lies curled in her bed and stares at the wall, pleading silently for someone to tell her who she is supposed to be.

'Her name is Devinahl.'

Gella gasps and leaps to her feet, spinning around to face the speaker with her hands flying behind her back; she had been so absorbed that she had not heard anybody come in. Behind her, the little creature she had been kneeling to pet gave its own trill of alarm, or perhaps indignation; it darts between Gella's feet and across the thick carpet, all six legs rippling and its long, soft feathers flattening. It ran up the wall like a lizard until it reached a shelf; grasping the underside with five clawed feet, it rotated its head back towards Gella and trilled again.

'I didn't mean to startle you,' the woman said. She was a distinctly average-looking person, dressed in a grey Imperial military uniform that seemed somehow blanker than usual; her tightly-curled black hair was swept across her brow and tied in a knot. Her dark skin was lined at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth; her face seemed somehow familiar.

'I'm sorry, I - they brought me here from the hospital and I was waiting and I - I heard -' All Gella's fear, momentarily deadened by the surprise and intrigue of discovering the strange little creature basking in the sun beneath the window, had returned in full force.

'There's no need to apologize. To me or to Devinahl.' The woman crossed the room to where the little creature was hanging from the shelf and uttering her trilling sounds, and held out her arm, extending one finger. The creature hissed. 'Now, that's not polite,' the woman chided.

Despite all her fright at being taken from the hospital and brought to this building, this office, Gella couldn't stop herself from watching the creature; she had never seen anything like it. With a long body, six legs and a blunt-nosed head on a short neck, it was shaped something like a lizard; but it was covered with downy feathers, intricately patterned in shades of blue and silver, that gave way to short fur at its lengthy tail, which wound and gripped like a monkey's. Beneath a shock of bright orange feathers on each of its six feet, those feet were clawed and had pads like paws; and no lizard had big, pointed, furred, tufted ears.

'Don't bother asking me what she is,' the woman said, apparently reading Gella's mind. 'Everybody does, and I don't know what to tell them.' She crooked her finger and the creature rubbed its cheek against it, giving a softer trill. 'The trader who sold me her egg spun me a tale about bringing it back from an expedition into Wild Space, and swore blind that she would be six metres long two months after she hatched. That was nine years ago, and she hasn't grown a centimetre for eight and a half of them.' The little creature, apparently recovering from its unwelcome alarm, hooked one clawed paw around the woman's finger and swung out from the shelf, her tail wrapping around the woman's forearm as she hung upside down as she had done from the shelf.

The woman turned back towards Gella, the creature dangling, apparently comfortably, from her arm. 'She only eats once every two months, won't drink anything except for substances so alkaline it should immediately calcify her internal organs, and every so often - if she likes you - she will sing something that sounds startlingly like Devonian opera, and I don't mean that as a compliment.' She stroked the creature's furry tail gently with the tip of one finger where it coiled around her arm. 'The Imperial Science Division has no record of anything remotely similar, and when they said that the only way to discover more about her was to dissect her, I decided it was best if she remained a mystery. That's why I named her Devinahl. You can pet her, if you like.'

Tentatively, Gella reached out as the woman extended her arm, and stroked the creature's head. Its long ears swivelled, apparently independently of each other, and it gave another of those trills, but this one lower-pitched.

'Do you know what a devinahl is?' the woman asked as Gella petted the creature, rubbing its ears and stroking its feathered back.

Gella shook her head.

'It's a type of riddle poem that was popular on Alderaan about twenty-five centuries ago. The poet would make elaborate paradoxical statements in rhyming verse around a central theme and the listeners were supposed to guess at the theme or idea that linked all the seemingly nonsensical statements - "devinahl" literally means "guess poem". I thought it would be an appropriate name for my little riddle.'

The creature, apparently growing bored with being petted, suddenly swung itself upright on the woman's arm and ran lightly up it to her shoulder, across the back of her neck and on to the other shoulder before launching itself into space. Gella gasped, startled with what seemed like a suicidal leap, but more orange feathers suddenly seemed to fan out from around each of the creature's six paws, buoying it as it sailed through the air in a graceful arc to land on the desk. It did not pause, but ran with the same sinuous, rippling motion across the desk to the opposite edge where it launched itself into space again, this time landing on the drapes where it swarmed upwards towards the top before stopping and seemingly curling up vertically, showing no discomfort as it dangled its body, wrapped into a knot, from four of its six feet, claws fastened securely in the drapes.

'Looks like the next person to have this office will have to replace the curtains,' the woman sighed. ‘They were extremely ugly, to be fair.’

The woman’s smile is warm and broad, inviting Gella to share the joke, but Gella cannot do much more than give a small, automatic smile in response.

‘Don’t mind about Devinahl,’ the woman says, crossing the floor to the desk, going to seat herself behind it. ‘She's a temperamental little thing, but she does like to curl up in people's laps if they're sitting still.'

Gella took the hint, and sat down in the chair across the desk from the woman. An alarming number of datapads were stacked in neat piles across its surface, but there were no holos or ornaments; just like the room itself was richly furnished, but with a curious blankness, as if anything personal had been removed. Probably the woman had had everything chosen by the previous owner taken away, but she had replaced it with nothing of her own.

'Now,' the woman said, and Gella looked back at her; she was still sure she had seen her face somewhere before, but could not remember where. 'I must apologize for keeping you waiting - not just because I was late for this meeting, but for the length of time you have been kept waiting for this interview to happen at all. I'm sure that, with your history, being in the hospital was not a comfortable experience for you.'

Gella stiffened, panic flooding her.

'Yes,' the woman said gently. 'It will probably save a great deal of time if I tell you now that I know a great deal about you, Stanza Tuain, and the things that have happened to you.' The blood was thundering in Gella's ears, but her implants still picked up every word perfectly as the woman went on. 'I know that you are the eldest daughter of Edson and Hosha Tuain, and that you lived in the Dragemef Grasslands refugee camp after your family was forced to flee Draavi V. I know that Doctor Kiran Korpil separated you from your parents on some pretext and brought you to his clinic in the city, where he gave you a new name along with a set of implants that served a variety of functions - none of them medically necessary. I know that Doctor Korpil exploited you, and the other children like you, to illegally obtain funds from the wealthy patrons of this hospital world, through a fraudulent charity, blackmail and prostitution.'

'How.' The word stuck in her throat and came out strangled, barely above a whisper. She licked numb lips and tried again. 'How -?'

Again, the woman seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. 'Not from Doctor Korpil himself, I promise you. He and most of his aides were killed instantly when the surgical strike on the Tower Hotel was made. Along with,' she added more quietly, 'all of "his" children. You would have been killed too, had you not been on a much lower floor of the building. Even then it would be considered highly improbable for you to have survived.'

Her last words hinted at something that Gella did not understand, but it did not matter, because she had remembered. 'I know you!'

The woman raised her eyebrows. 'Excuse me?'

'I know you.' Amidst all the confusion and the welter of emotions, Gella clung to the momentary triumph of having finally pinned down the elusive recollection. 'I mean, I've seen you. At the - the parties. One last month, at the Aquilla Ballroom. You were wearing blue. And then once before, at the Nabeshin. You had a headdress on.'

'Very good,' the woman said softly. 'I wondered if you might have a knack for remembering faces. Yes, I have been stationed on Draavi Prime for some time now.'

'Stationed - ?' Gella knew she should be playing this differently, but she was too panicked, and right now anything, even demanding answers, was better than listening to the woman talk about Stanza Tuain and the things that had happened to her in those even tones. 'Who are you? How do you know these - these things?'

The woman held up a hand, and despite the warring emotions currently flooding her, Gella noticed for the first time that unlike most of the Imperial officers she had seen in this building, the woman was not wearing gloves. 'I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, and I won't lie to you, but I would like you to be calm and listen to me, Stanza.' It was the second time she had said the name and, just as it had the first time, it pinned Gella to her chair with an icy needle made of terror.

'Now.' The woman sat back in her chair, considering Gella. 'You asked me who I am. That's a very difficult question for someone like me to answer. To the men and women of the Imperial forces tasked with securing this planet -' she waved a hand at the door - 'I am known as Major Lapis Dar. But that is not my real name, any more than Gella Marogan is yours. As for my real name ... let us say that I don't enjoy being addressed by it, any more than you like it when I call you Stanza. Names, real and unreal, are a very tricky business, as you've already learned. For now, you can call me Sifter.'

'Sifter,' Gella repeated blankly.

'It's a ... designation ... that means a great deal to a handful of people spread across the galaxy, and nothing at all to everybody else. Like anybody's true name.' The woman smiled at the look of confusion on Gella's face. 'Tell me, do you know what an "intelligence service" is?'

'It's ... spies. And secrets.'

The woman's smile broadened. 'Well put.' She glanced up at the curtains, where Devinahl was unwinding herself. 'An intelligence service is something every government in the galaxy has - even the former government of Draavi Prime. Its task is simple: To gather and interpret information about what the enemies of its government are doing. I work for Imperial Intelligence, and it is to them - at least, the sufficiently highly ranked among them - that I am known as Sifter.' She held out her arm as Devinahl made her way headfirst down the curtains.

Gella frowned, watching as the little creature leapt nimbly on to the woman's arm, her tail wrapping around it again. 'And they sent you here.'

'Naturally,' There was the faintest trace of - something - in the woman's voice, but when Gella's eyes flew to her face, it gave nothing away. 'As the Empire's quest to conquer Draavi Prime entered its closing stages, I came to this planet in the guise of a wealthy Republic citizen seeking medical treatment for an obscure condition. I blended in with the rest.' She folded her arm back into her chest, cradling the creature, stroking it with her other hand. 'I wanted to know who the most important people on Draavi Prime were, and understand the best way for the Empire to take over the planet with minimal resistance. In the course of my investigations, I came across Doctor Kilpore and his ... charity. It did not take too long to understand the true nature of his "clinic", at least in broad outlines. Nor to see that what passed for a government on this world, and its Republic allies, chose to ignore the obvious, because the most powerful among them were either living in fear of what Doctor Kilpore could reveal about them if he chose, or were too busy indulging in what the doctor had to offer. Or both.'

'You told them.' The knowledge had arrived in Gella's brain unbidden, but complete, and she could not stop herself from saying it out loud. 'You knew who would be at the Fixeve for the party. You told the - the ship in orbit to destroy the hotel and kill all those people.'

'Yes, I did,' the woman - Sifter - said, just as calmly as she had said everything else, still stroking her pet. 'I learned as much as I could about the structure of this planet's society, and everything I learned told me that most of this world's real executive power had been usurped by a small handful of citizens obsessed with their own interests. Knowing that, it was clear that a surgical strike which removed a high concentration of those individuals would essentially paralyse the planet for a few crucial hours - hours the Empire could use to move in and take control of key centres of power.'

Gella did not say anything. It felt like her mind simply had too much to process, and had shut down.

'I could have made a different choice, of course,' Sifter continued. 'I could have recommended that the Empire proceed with a more conventional invasion. Engaged the orbital defense platforms, landed troops in the grasslands outside the capital city, let them establish camps and fight their way inwards, sector by sector. The Empire would have prevailed, of course, but only after weeks - perhaps months. Time in which millions would have died, and not just soldiers. They had already cut the food shipments to the refugee camps to the bare minimum; how long do you imagine they would have gone on shipping anything at all to the camps once the shortages really started to bite?'

Mother. Father. Scerra.

'I chose the deaths of a few thousand corrupt and selfish individuals over the suffering and loss of millions,' Sifter went on. 'Because of my work, I knew precisely when and where the Empire could strike to remove those least likely to value the lives of their people, with the least loss of life to those people. Now, instead of fighting in the streets, there are Imperial patrols combing the wreckage for survivors, Imperial teams exposing what this society kept hidden so that it can be put right.'

'But the others.' It came out as a whisper again. Gella cleared her throat, tried once more. 'The other children -'

‘I know.’

‘They didn’t deserve that!’

‘I know,’ Sifter said again, gravely, meeting Gella’s eyes squarely. ‘They didn’t deserve anything that had happened to them. But it was the only way to accomplish the mission – and perhaps, if they had chosen, they might have opted for a quick death.’

‘They w-wanted to g-go home!’ Gella burst out.

‘Perhaps that’s what they thought they wanted, when they were living at the clinic and doing Doctor Korpil’s bidding,’ Sifter said gently. ‘But now there is no clinic, and they have no option but to go back to their families – well, they might feel that anything was better than that. Looking their families in the eye and knowing that their parents, their siblings, knew everything that they had done? Knew how those extra rations in the camps had been paid for? Can you imagine what that would do to those parents, those families?’ She learned forward, allowing Devinahl to uncoil out of her arms. ‘Maybe the children would have wanted a way out rather than having to cause so much pain to the people they loved. We’ll never know, I suppose.’

There was silence in the office except for the faintest clicking of the creature's claws as she stretched and sauntered across the surface of the desk towards Gella, stopping and giving an enquiring trill. Automatically, Gella took her hands from her lap; Devinahl took it for an invitation and leapt lightly on to her knee. Gella could feel the little claws pressing into her clothes, but not painfully so, as the creature investigated her lap, before giving another satisfied-sounding trill and settling her warm, soft weight down against Gella's abdomen, curling herself up into a tight, feathered ball.

'What about the nurses?' Gella asked eventually. 'Everybody else at the clinic?'

'I had a team secure Doctor Kilpore's clinic and the remaining personnel almost as soon as the initial strike took place. Between questioning those who remained and looking through the doctor's files, all my suspicions were confirmed.' Sifter adjusted the cuffs of her uniform tunic one by one. 'I imagined that my investigations would provide only restitution for the dead, and ammunition with which to go after those who had allowed all these travesties to occur. But then I heard that a young girl, with no apparent family or friends but with some very unusual and expensive facial implants, had been rescued from the wreckage of the hotel, and it was not very difficult to piece together the story of Stanza Tuain and Gella Marogan and see that they were one and the same. Doctor Korpil's security precautions always relied on the premise that nobody with any power or authority would come looking, you see.'

There was another long silence as Gella stroked the creature in her lap and the woman watched from across the desk.

'What about my family?' Gella asked eventually; she thought she tasted blood in her throat.

'Your father and mother and sister are alive,' Sifter told her quietly. 'Mortality rates at the Dagemef camp were above sixty per cent, but Edson, Hosha and Scerra Tuain were able to survive. They seem to have been able to trade some of their extra rations for other useful supplies, extra credits that bought them some protection even when things were at their worst.' She smiled her warm smile. ‘You saved them.’

'What will happen to them now?' Gella asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sifter shrugged. 'I'm sure you've seen the broadcasts. Imperial peacekeeping forces are even now reorganizing the camps, ensuring that there will be sufficient food and medical supplies and shelter for all the displaced people. Your family will be much better looked after under our regime, I assure you. But they are still not Imperial citizens, nor citizens of Draavi Prime in their own right. They will have to remain in the camp until a place for them to settle can be found.' She gave Gella a reassuring smile. 'Still, I'm sure they will be delighted to have you back.'

Gella felt something cold settle into the pit of her stomach. 'I'm going ... back? To the camp?'

Sifter raised her eyebrows. 'Isn't that what you want?'

Gella looked away, avoiding Sifter's eyes, focusing instead on the creature curled up on her lap, and on trying to get her voice under control enough to ask the question. Despite her best efforts, it still shook as she asked, 'Will they ... know?'

'About Doctor Korpil, and the things he made his children do?'

Gella nodded.

'I'm afraid everyone on this planet will know,' Sifter said gently. 'It's important that the people of Draavi Prime come to understand the kinds of crime and corruption that their government, and their government's friends in the Republic, were willing to allow to flourish under their regime. I know an investigative team are working on an exclusive holo-broadcast about Doctor Korpil's clinic as we speak.'

Gella swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. She could see it so clearly: The looks on people's faces when they heard about all the things that had happened to Doctor Korpil's children. The broadcast would not leave out the things that had happened in the private rooms; maybe they would even find out about the office. Mother and Father and Scerra would know how their extra rations had been paid for all those years. Gella Marogan would be gone forever and only Stanza would be left. She left cold sweat running down her back at the thought. It would be Stanza Tuain who had done all those things, and everybody would know.

'What about -' it came out as a croak; Gella swallowed and tried again. 'What about my implants?'

The thought had been just forming in her mind that if her implants were removed, it would be easier to hide. But Sifter was shaking her head, and the hope died before it had even finished unfurling. 'I have spoken to the doctors who examined you, and they all agree. There was nothing wrong with your hearing or your eyesight before the implants, but after four years of continuous use, your optic and auditory nerves have become accustomed to the additional stimulus, your neural pathways have been reconfigured ...' Sifter spread her hands, an expressive gesture. 'You now need the implants to help you see and hear. If they were removed, it's almost certain that you would become partially or completely blind, and certainly deaf. That's if you survived the initial neural trauma of the severed connections.'

Gella's mouth was dryer than ever; this was something she had not thought of. 'But the implants - they need adjusting every few months. The doctor said so.' Sifter gave a confirming nod. 'My - my parents - they can't pay for that, even if someone in the camp could do it ...'

She trailed off, looking hopefully at Sifter, waiting for the woman to offer some suggestion, some solution.

The woman simply leaned back in her chair and met Gella's gaze, impassively.

Gella swallowed again, her arms tightening around Devinahl. Sifter didn't have anything more to say; she was finished with Gella, and that meant Gella was finished.

She steeled herself to do it, to get up off the chair and walk away and start the journey back, back to her family, back to the camp. But just as she had tensed to rise, Sifter spoke again, not as if there had been a pause of several minutes between her last statement and this one, but as if she was continuing her thought.

'Of course, there is one other option.'

Gella sank back on to the chair. 'What is it?'

'You could come and work for me.' Gella's arms tightened convulsively around Devinahl, and the little creature shrieked in protest. Sifter held up a hand. 'I don't mean prostitution, and you will not be subjected to any form of abuse. I am not another Doctor Korpil.'

She relaxed her arms slowly; Devinahl squirmed out from under them and leapt off her lap and on to the desk, streaking over to swarm up Sifter's arm to her shoulder once more. 'Then what ...?'

Sifter pursed her lips, once again searching Gella's face intently with those fathomless dark eyes. 'There are those in Imperial Intelligence,' she said slowly, 'who believe that the work most vital to protecting the Empire can and should be done by those we have explicitly designed and programmed to fulfill those functions.' Gella frowned as Sifter went on. 'And there are those, like me, who believe that there is still a place for the organic, autonomous field agent; the man or woman on the spot who can be flexible, inventive, creative, finding ways to carry out their orders that even those who issued those orders could not have anticipated. I believe that so strongly, in fact, that I have spent much of my career seeking out and recruiting remarkable individuals to be those agents.'

'You ... want me to join Imperial Intelligence?'

Sifter smiled. 'Not quite yet. Let's say that I think that you have some unusual and promising qualities, which I would like to nurture.'

'What qualities?'

'Well, for one, you're a very good liar. Your experiences over the past few years have given you an almost intuitive understanding of how to appear unthreatening, and go unnoticed. You come already equipped with some top-of-the-range implants which enhance your intelligence-gathering abilities, and which could potentially be modified to enhance other physical attributes as well. And - forgive me - you will not be missed. As far as anyone on this planet is concerned, Stanza Tuain died along with Doctor Korpil and the rest of his children in the Fixeve Tower Hotel. The hospital staff know you as Gella Marogan, who never existed; and only a small handful of Imperial personnel, who will have no interest in pursuing the subject, have any idea that a child survived the demolition of the hotel. You could board my starship and leave this planet with me today, and leave poor little Stanza Tuain behind forever. This, for my purposes, is extremely convenient.' Sifter shrugged. 'I told you I would not lie to you.'

'What would you do with me?' Gella asked.

'Oh - educate you, mainly. Teach you various skills. Put you to work at the same time, if it can be done. I think you'll find it stimulating.' Sifter absently stroked the long tail of Devinahl where it curled around her neck. 'You'll be under my protection until you reach adulthood. Then, if you wish to join Imperial Intelligence, you will find yourself perfectly suited to do so. And if you don't - well, you can make your own way in the galaxy. Or come back here, if you like.'

'What about my parents?'

'They already believe that their daughter is dead. I simply won't disabuse them of that impression.'

'No, I mean -' Gella searched for the words. 'Can you ... look after them?'

Sifter raised her eyebrows. 'It could certainly be arranged for them to receive Imperial citizenship. They would be able to leave the camp, move to the city, access all the benefits Imperial citizens enjoy in healthcare, education, housing, employment ... Would that be sufficient?'

'It would,' Gella said slowly. 'If I said yes.'

Sifter simply leaned back in her chair and continued to stroke Devinahl's tail, watching Gella.

Gella tried to think clearly, to picture her parents' faces, to make up her mind whether she could trust Sifter. But it was hard to concentrate. What came into her mind was not any of the things Sifter had said: It was the face of the white-haired man with the moustache, the blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, the look in his eyes, as she looked back beneath the desk. He had taken her into that room to ... to do those things, but when the tower fell, he had pushed her under the desk, saved her before himself. It frightened her that both those things could be true.

It frightened her that she had left him to die.

'There's one other quality I recognised in you,' Sifter said quietly, watching her. 'One last reason I want you. You're a survivor, Stanza.' Gella flinched in spite of herself. 'You were taken from your family and placed in a situation where the worst things that can be done to a person were done to you, over and over again - and yet here you sit, free and alive, and your tormentors are dead, or facing their punishment. The Empire needs that determination. It needs that strength.'

Still Gella didn't say anything.

'Your family loves you. They will always love you, and care for you, and hold you in their hearts. But they will always see you as a victim. No matter how much they love you, they will always see you as the wreckage of what their daughter might have been.' Sifter twisted Devinahl's tail around her finger, still watching Gella. 'The life I offer you holds no love, no warmth, no safety. Nothing but loneliness and danger and fear. But I can promise you that I will only ever look at you to see your strength. And I can ensure that the galaxy sees it too.'

Gella had nothing to say.

Sifter leaned across the desk, Devinahl riding on her shoulder, eyes intent on Gella. 'What is it,' she asked, 'that you want?'

She looked back at the woman across the desk, and let the words come from deep inside her.

'I want to be nobody.'

A smile, deeper than any she had seen so far, curved Sifter's lips. 'I think that can be arranged.'

#swtor #fic #i wrote a thing #oc: devinahl #imperial agent

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

Text

So it took interest rates that were like WE OWN UR SOUL NOW U FOOL HAHA TWILL BE OURS FOREVER, but joke’s on them lol like I never use that thing anyway. But I got the personal loan for $10K in the end after like a month of searching but who knew that obsessively raising my credit score for a year by like....occasionally chilling all night in an IHOP rather than use a credit card too much on a room would like....pay off with a credit score that actually is useful to me in a way that means I don’t even care right now that hahaha credit scores are just pointless imaginary numbers that really only exist because capitalism’s a dick?

Look I’m allowed to be a hypocrite for three weeks let me have this, I promise I’ll go back to ranting about people selling their souls for the sake of strings of binary code on a computer screen, like just cuz I wasn’t using mine doesn’t mean other ppl don’t want theirs.

Because oh yeah so I was like gimme the loan plz and they were like ugh fine and I somehow got my credit card companies to raise my limits because I’ve had them for over a year now and I honestly couldn’t even tell you how I convinced them to do that like did I haggle did I beg did I put out, who knows, it’s been a very long and strange and sleep deprived month and that’s on top of a long, strange, sleep-deprives two years. Point is between raising my limits on those two, the loan of DOOM and getting a CareCredit card with the remaining credit left to me or before the latter realized I’d just massively dinged my credit cuz the raised limits and loan hadn’t been reported yet, I came up with the $12400. Like again most of that is in the form of imaginary money that I’ll probably spend years paying out of future paychecks so if anyone wants to go ahead and put The Revolution on the books for like, say October, that would actually really work for me. I’d even be all pumped and full of rest and vigor and extra fightey and like, you know how fightey I usually am to begin with I’m just saying....

So now I am literally just waiting for my loan check to clear in my bank account cuz my doctor doesn’t accept checks. Second it does, probably Monday, I’ll go down to my doctors office, pay the $6200 upfront and finish the insurance paperwork for them to submit the claim for the insurance company’s part of it, and they can officially schedule my surgery, possibly in as little as three weeks??!!

Which is absolutely surreal to me, like after literal years of treading water and setbacks and everything dragging out endlessly and he’ll even just yesterday, it’s utterly bizarre finishing my stuff at my bank and doctor’s this morning and hearing how matter of fact they all are about how quickly things could happen now and like. Finally be over. Or like, start lol in the sense of holy shit I could actually maybe have an actual life again.

They can’t confirm a date until my first payment is processed, only then does she officially put me on the books at Cedar Sinai when they can get me into an open OR, but it hopefully could be the 20th. She’s already got another surgery scheduled for that day and an OR booked for it with potential slots before and after it but I can’t count on the 20th as a given just yet. Could still be one, two or even three weeks after that before they actually fit me in, so I’m trying not to set my thoughts and hopes too much on that three weeks from now appointment but that’s easier said than done. LOL.

But whenever it’s actually set for, I go in the day of, pay the second half of the payment, and the surgery takes a few hours but they send me home the same day. My high school friend from San Diego hopefully is going to be able to take enough time off to look out for me while I recover, we’ve been tentatively planning for that for most of a year but couldn’t guarantee anything with her work until we had actual dates which I mean we still don’t technically have. But my jaw will be wired shut for ten days so there’s no way I can manage on my own, esp the way I’ve been getting by day-to-day, and I’ll be on a liquid diet and having to drink everything through a special straw and stuff and completely unable to talk the whole time and oh yeah also apparently in agonizing pain that I’ve been extensively warned could put anything I’ve experienced thus far to shame, so I’m really REALLY looking forward to that part lol. Currently pondering the viability of just knocking myself unconscious every day. We’ll see how it goes.

But after that I go back in ten days later and they unwire my jaw, check that everything looks okay and I’m healing the way I’m supposed to, and I have two weeks of physical therapy and....that’s it. It’s over. I’m just. I’m just leaving that right there for now because I honestly don’t even know what to do with that thought after all this time, it’s. Like I can’t quite wrap my head around it and even really picture how that works. Idk my brain just fizzes out and it’s like wait, are you sure, that doesn’t sound right.

But like I made them go over it multiple times to make sure I wasn’t missing anything or understanding it wrong or whatever, like my doctor was this combination of kinda amused but also exasperated when I finally stopped asking to go over it all again. LOL look I just really really really needed to be sure there wasn’t something else involved that like I was supposed to already know or have been told by someone else, I don’t know okay? Anyone who’s been following me the last couple years knows that this isn’t how this sort of things go, they’re supposed to get my hopes up and then tell me they have no clue what’s wrong or send me off to someone else or tell me oh yeah you also need another thirty thousand and an MRI and some headgear that’s like made of platinum, but we just thought you already knew that. LOL.

But. I mean. Yeah. That’s it. I checked. A lot. Theoretically though unless there’s some new bizarre development in which case I will most likely detach my spirit from my body and evolve into my ultimate great rage power Digimon form, AreYouFreakingKiddingMeMon, and go like, fight god or the physical embodiment of the universe or whatever like I keep threatening....like, that really is what’s left. And then it’s all over. My jaw should by all accounts be restored to its full functionality from before all this. No more pain, no more eternal headache, no vertigo, blind-outs, no problems eating any particular food or swallowing or 45 degree slope to my lower jaw, none of the shit that’s been my day to day existence for well. Years. LOL.

Yeah. Really don’t know what to do with that yet. I just. Can’t. Haha.

Anyway, as I’ve said before, I literally couldn’t have made it to this point without the support of people here, both emotionally and financially. I hate to ask it because you’ve helped so much already, but I’m definitely going to have to ask for your help a little longer, there’s just no way around it. I am completely wiped and tbh overwhelmed so I’m probably going to try and sleep the rest of the day - I was pretty much up all night, unable to sleep while I waited to hear back on all this.

Then when my head’s fully processing things again and not friztzing our because I’ve forgotten how to process good news, lol, I’ll probably be putting together a post asking for your help paying my insurance premiums one last time, and on Monday or once I get the official set in stone date for my surgery I’ll be doing another, basically begging you guys to help keep me afloat the hopefully no more than three weeks til then.

I really really hate having to do that when I know you all have helped and given so much already, and it’ll literally be nothing more than my basic expenses of motel room and food, I don’t need anything beyond that, but I truly don’t see anyway around it. I exhausted every possible avenue available for me to try with my credit in order to get this loan and raise my limits enough, and I milked every cent I could out of those. There’s just no more money to be pulled out of any of that, it took everything I had to get what I needed for the surgery. And I’m afraid of the very real possibility that if I don’t ask for this help because of pride or because of how much I’ve asked for already, I’ll end up using one of my credit cards to pay for my room and such and end up stuck without enough money at hand to cover the second half payment on my day of surgery and I truly literally can not afford that. I have no idea what will happen with my insurance if I have to reschedule, how long it would take to reschedule, etc.

And the other side of this is there’s really not a whole lot left I can do for work at the moment. I’ve finished off all my existing projects except for one last cover and they already paid for it in advance. I honestly don’t know that I could take on new jobs if it ends up with my surgery on the 20th in just three weeks. Searching for more jobs and clients has become more and more time consuming these past months as is, and the simple truth is I couldn’t in good conscience or in honesty guarantee any new clients that I could finish their job in that time frame. Not with my present state physically and mentally and the uncertainty of my day to day expenses and stress about potential complications hanging over my head and not, truthfully, mixing all that well with my pre-existing mental health conditions lol. And yeah, if I can’t guarantee getting any new projects done in three weeks, I can’t afford to take them on for any potential client’s sake, not to mention the sake of my professional reputation, which I will really need to be, y’know, intact, in order to rebuild my life basically from the ground up, once my previous physicality and quality of life comes back after my surgery and recovery (knock on wood). With at least two or three weeks of recovery after the surgery even assuming it goes well and has no other complications, that’s way too much time to leave clients hanging and not be available to address any needs, concerns, revisions, etc. Especially if they’re not returning clients but brand new ones.

So yeah, as much as I would love to not have to ask for any more help than I already have and have been given, I sincerely just don’t see any alternatives that don’t jeopardize or risk wasting all the help I’ve already been given. You know I am fully aware of just how much that is and what its cost some of you, and I already could never repay you for this, not even in terms of just the money itself, but the fact that I know some of you have given at your own very real expense, sending me money that you really could have used yourself, that wasn’t any kind of surplus. I am already beyond grateful and humbled and overwhelmed how many of you have stepped forward to help me in ways that even though I’m older than many of you, I honestly have no precedent for, in ways and to an extent I’ve never received help or support from family. So I just needed to say that again, because I have not asked for any of this lightly, and I don’t now either. Really, really thank you. I’m not exaggerating or being dramatic or hyperbolic or silly for a change, when I say you guys most likely saved my life. Its simple fact. Hell, I was genuinely hours away from sleeping outside freezing my ass off in December, that first time I posted asking for help and you guys came through for me. So, yeah. I will never ever forget this, and never ever be able to give back as much as I’ve been given these past few months, though I will always do my best to pay it forward.

I’m going to go ahead and leave my paypal link here anyway, though I’ll be making those two additional posts tomorrow and next week, as I said. Aiming to keep them shorter than this, well, shorter than any of my posts, really, as shorter posts really just get more traction and I’ll need that. I can always link to the longer explanations of my situation for those wanting to know more.

Again, thank you all more than I can figure out how to put into words. I’m finally. Fuck. LOL. Sorry, I’m being very umm, sentimental over here but like its your fault I’m overwhelmed lol, like omg you guys, you can’t just throw love and affection and support at a guy with so much childhood traaaaaaaaauma, his brain doesn’t know how to handle it, look, you broke him. Are you happy? You broke his brain machine.

Okay cool, we’re back to inanity and obnoxious humor as an overcompensating self-defense mechanism, whew, everything’s normal, everyone can relax. LOL. Anyway, I’m gonna shut up now and go try and get some rest. Just know that I’m doing so feeling way more....hopeful? Optimistic? Faith-in-humanity-and-goodwill-and-community-ey? Than I have in years.

....the fact that I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now is called probably tells you all you need to know about me, huh? LMFAO God I’m so messed up lol. But whatever. Still alive and kicking. So. Y’know. There’s always that.

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

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nordicicequeen · 7 years

Text

Just What the Doctor Ordered Pt2

Author Notes: Hey guys! Just finished this part after going through several phases of hating and loving everything I wrote so I really hope you guys like this. Shion is written in a way that makes her more personable. Normally when you see a therapist/psychiatrist they are more collected. They offer tissues when you cry, but they don’t say much at least in my experience they don’t so yeah she has more personality. I have some ideas already hashed out for future chapters so look forward to them when I have more time to write. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, therapy, violent outburst, abandonment. Just know that no chapter in this will be trigger free that I have planned so far. Word count: 1477

Saeran set the cup down and stared across the room at Shion. "Your children are lucky. You and your husband seem very much in love. It's a good environment for children. Saeyoung and I didn't have that. We're the bastard children of a current political figure that is running for president... I don't know how our mother got pregnant, nor do I care. It happened and Saeyoung and I were born, but we weren't children to her. We were meal tickets. She blackmailed our dad. She'd keep quiet about us if he paid her."

Shion liked to remain neutral about the things that her patients talked about, but she couldn't stand women that used their children like that. She could see the pain in his face as he started his story and the mother in her wanted to hold him and tell him that it was all okay, but she held back as she knew that he wasn't ready for that level of interaction yet. She forced herself to relax in her chair and grabbed her cup to take a large gulp of her cocoa as she waited for him to continue. Clients that need as much time as Saeran would to open she always scheduled as her last appointment so there was no reason to rush him.

"Heh..." Saeran chuckled as the self hate in him started to boil to the surface as his mind traveled back to those days as he spoke about the things that happened back then. "I was always so weak back then..." To him he was no longer in the safe office with Dr. Mirrors, instead he was standing in his childhood home. The feelings of fear and hunger hit him hard. He bounced his leg and leaned forward rocking a bit as his breathing accelerated. Shion could see his distress and reached out to touch him but he moved out of reach, standing and walking around the room as to remind himself that he wasn't tied in one spot.

"Our mother... Mother is a laughable thing to call her. Hyuna was her name, but honestly drunken whore sounds so much better. She was always drunk or passed out and so when she woke up she'd have a hangover. Even the smallest sound would send her into a rage. We had to crawl through the house as to not make any noise, cause when she was angered her head did 360s and she started speaking Latin backwards. Though I never really got to walk around as she almost always had me tied to an anchor on the floor." It was at this point that Saeran winced as he grabbed the back of his chair. It felt like his ankle was on fire from rope burns like it had been so long ago. The anger swelled in him and he threw his chair across the room. A loud crash and then the room was silent.

This wasn't the first time that Shion had seen a patient throw things, but she felt different this time watching him as he crumbled to the floor in tears. Cautiously she got up from her seat and strolled over to him before placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. Saeran looked so frightened when he looked up at her face searching for some sign of anger at the broken chair, but he found none. Instead he found concern and sympathy. Shion sat down on the floor next to him and gave him a few moments before she spoke.

"Don't worry about the chair. Your recovery means more than any chair." Her voice had a very loving motherly tone to it which quickly turned into a joyful tone as she told a small joke to him to bring him back down. "If it meant your recovery I'd gladly take you to La-Z-Boy and let you destroy the store." A soft smile crossed her face as she reached out and wiped his tears away with a Kleenex. "Take as much time as you need. Talking about all this stuff is never easy. I want you to feel comfortable opening up, so we'll tackle all of your baggage on your schedule. If you feel like you can't continue then we can save it for another day."

"No!" Saeran exclaimed louder than he had meant to and he quickly apologized. "I'm sorry... I mean no. I want to keep going. I want to get that woman out of my life forever, so I'd rather never revisit this topic. But it's important to talk about... At least that's what the other doctors said. So let's continue." He released a shaky held breath with a sigh as he looked to the ceiling as if trying to decide where to pick back up. "We never got to go to school, y'know. I'm not sure if she was afraid that we would run away or that someone would see the marks on us and we would be taken from her, but she always used to tell us that our father would come and kill us if we didn't stay safe with her." Saeran's head hung as the tears flowed from his eyes again and his voice grew dark. "Save with her. What a joke! She would beat us for making too much noise and starve us for ridiculous reasons. We were never safe."

Shion grabbed a box of tissues and handed them to him as Saeran continued his story. "Y'know it was hell, but a livable hell when Saeyoung was with me. He used to go out and bring back medicine, water, and food that he would give me or at least share with me. Sometimes he would untie me from the anchor and let me walk around even though it often got him in a lot of trouble. We even had a plan to escape together. He had saved up some money and we were gonna leave soon. But then one day he just disappeared."

"What do you mean disappeared? Saeyoung was the man I talked to on the phone wasn't he?" Questions flowed from Shion before she could rein them in effectively interrupting Saeran, for which she mentally kicked herself. Interrupting a person that is having a hard time verbalizing past abuse can cause them to shut down all communication, especially if they feel rushed. Luckily this time that was not the case.

"Saeyoung used to go a nearby church a lot. He brought me back bread from there sometimes. I think he prayed that one day we would be free from our mother and father. He read books there that helped him learn about computers. He got real good with them and started working for some people that paid well. He said it was just temporary thing until he made enough money." Saeran wiped his eyes as he paused. He again felt like that sad, lonely, sick little boy waiting for his big brother to come home. "One day he left for the church and he never came back. I waited for him. I was afraid that he had been killed by our father's men. I cried for days, I didn't even care about how many beatings I got. I just wanted my brother back."

Tears pricked Shion's eyes as she listened to his story. She sniffled as she spoke. "I think that's enough for the day honey. You covered a very hard topic and I'm sure there are more to come. I'd like to see you again tomorrow at the same time. Normally appointments are scheduled bi-weekly or every couple months, but you a new patient that I think needs a place to talk through your problems. I have a couple things on my list for us to talk about, but I want you to start where you are comfortable."

"Rika and V. Let's talk about them next time. I think doing this in order would be easiest." Saeran interjected as he tried to end the flood of tears all the past memories had brought to the surface.

"Rika and V, alright I made a note of it. Don't worry about talking the receptionist I already have you in my book and I talk to her for you. Here, take my business card with you. It has my office number and cell number just in case you need to talk between our sessions." Shion handed Saeran her business card as he got up off the floor his tears finally gone. "I'm gonna hold of on prescribing any medication until we've had a few more visits." She said as she walked him out of the office to Saeyoung who was sitting in the waiting room. "I hope you have a good night Saeran." She said with a wave as the twins left the building.

Shion retreated back to her office and cried.

#Just What the Doctor Ordered #Part 2 #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #OC #Shion Mirrors #tw: therapy #tw: abuse #tw: violent outburst #mystic messenger #mm #mysme

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mizalsayf · 7 years

Text

Medical Checkup - Part One

~MASTERLIST~

Summary: Doctor Negan can't resist one of his patients.

Word Count: 2819

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this pure piece of smut as much as I loved writing it. I decided to end it on a slight cliffhanger since I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue. If you want me to write a part 2 feel free request one! Also, I would love to read your thoughts and opinions!

Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Fingering, Swearing, slight Daddy kink? (the word is said once.)

Tagging: @jml509, @negansoutpost, @warriorqueen1991, @negans-network

So, I don't know if you guys wanted to be tagged in everything I write or not, but if you only want to be tagged in 'Life in her yet' please let me know!

I'm also going to tag @jdmfanfiction, I really hope you're feeling better and if you ever need somebody to talk to, you can always message me! <3

And for all the others, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(gif originally posted by @negandarylsatisfaction)

Jade carefully stepped out of the steaming shower cabin, a towel tightly wrapped around her slim body. She instantly reached for the bathroom sink to get a little bit more support. Four days ago, she had a much-needed surgery on her left knee cap and now she's stumbling around everywhere.

She opened the sliding door to let some of the humidity and steam out and also to not get her leg brace wet.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the room and the big, hospital door opened wide. Her towel seemed to be startled by the sudden interruption and dropped to the floor which made her sigh.

Her head snapped towards the door and she gasped silently when she saw her surgeon, Doctor Negan, standing there. She instantly bent down and picked up the towel wrapping it around herself again. Not that it helped anyway, he had already seen her in her birthday suit and she was beyond embarrassed.

Doctor Negan smirked to himself when he noticed her cheeks flushing a pale pink shade. Frankly, he didn't mind getting a glimpse at her naked body but, he had to control something in his pants.

"Hello Doctor Negan, what did you want?" she tried to act as normal as possible, sighing at herself when her voice came out unusually high.

"Good day Miss Graham." He grinned. "I see you are doing just fine, how about we let you go tomorrow?" To some people he may seem a little nonchalant, but that's exactly why she chose him as her doctor. She enjoyed the easygoing way he talked and handled his work. Also, how easy he was on the eyes. Win-win situation there.

Jade nodded, she was relived to finally go back home. Not that the nurses weren't nice but she was glad to go into her own four walls again.

"Okay then, the nurse will give you your leave papers and the physio therapy paper. I'll see you in six weeks for a checkup and x-ray." He said in a more serious tone but kept the smile on his face.

"Thank you, see you in six weeks." Jade answered, a bit more at ease with her current situation.

Doctor Negan turned around and waved while saying goodbye.

When the door finally closed, she sighed tiredly. She got tired really fast at the moment, but today it wasn't her knee that made her so tired. It was her smoking hot Doctor. More than once she had fantasized about him fucking the ever-living hell out of her.

But for now, she had to live with just her fantasies.

----

Six weeks later…

Jade's knee was healing fairly good without any complications. She was excited to see how it has developed and what Doctor Negan has to say.

She entered the doctor's office and was greeted by one of the assistants.

"Hi, my name is Jade Graham. I'm here for a checkup and x-ray." She stated simply. She usually wasn't a woman of few words but she was still a bit embarrassed about the shower-accident.

The assistant searched for her name in the book she had in front of her. "Yes, Miss Graham. We will do the x-ray first, please follow me." She stood up and gracefully walked from behind the desk past Jade into the room with the x-ray machine in it.

When the x-ray was done, the assistant lead her to a room and told her that Doctor Negan will be there shortly. Jade sat down and set the crutches beside her. She looked around the room when Doctor Negan entered in his usual confident stroll holding the already developed x-ray in his hand.

"Hello, Miss Graham. How are you?" He asked in his deep, husky voice that made her almost voluntarily spread her legs wide open.

"Good thank you. I've had no complications which I'm thankful for." She answered in a confident tone and already answered his next question. He nodded, studying the paper in his hand.

"Alright, the x-ray looks good too. Everything has healed nicely, so you can finally put that leg brace aside. We want to concentrate on building the muscle you have lost and I'll see you for a final check-up in a month again."

He explained seriously but his eyes kept trailing down her body, their focus lingering on her exposed cleavage much longer than needed. He wouldn't deny that Miss Graham wasn't attractive or hasn't had some fantasies about her, but he never fucked any of his patients before. There's a first for everything, he thought.

Jade didn't seem to notice since she was distracted by trying not to get turned on by his voice or the way he looked at her. She simply could not have sex with her doctor, she had to resist. But she wasn't sure if she could.

She was too focused on her thoughts that she didn't notice him waiting for a response. He cleared his throat which made her come out of her trance and give him a startled look. He returned it with a cocky grin.

"Uhm, yes that's okay, Doc. Thank you." She couldn't meet his gaze so she stood up and took her crutches under her arm walking out.

"See ya in a month, Miss Graham." She heard him call after her, his voice laced with a sense of new discovered knowledge and humor.

She didn't turn around and instead made her way to the reception desk, making an appointment for next month. Quickly, she walked out of the office and sighing in relief when she was out the door.

Jade was always a confident woman around men. But this man behind that door did things to her that not even she could explain.

But for some reason, she could not wait for her next appointment.

---

A month later…

Jade found herself, once again, in Dr. Negan's office, sitting on a chair and waiting for him to make his grand entrance.

She was distracted reading the titles of the different books he had on a shelf behind his desk when he opened the door. She flinched slightly but recovered fast and stood up to shake his hand and greet him.

He sat down opposite of her, looking at her medical chart while speaking, "So Miss Graham, how are you? I see you don't have those crutches with you anymore." She confidently grinned at him, "I've been doing great, I am basically able to do everything normally again."

He nodded while writing what she just said, "Okay, please take off your shoes and pants and lie down on the bed."

Suddenly, Jade got a bit flustered when the memories of the hospital incident came back into her mind. She got up and removed her shoes and pants, leaving them on the floor.

Doctor Negan walked over to the left side of the bed and gently moved her kneecap from side to side, nodding. He then took her calf in one hand and the other behind her knee as he began to bend it.

While he seemed like he knew what he was doing, his eyes kept tracing the outlines of her body. It was really hard for him to control little Negan down there. Since he saw her half naked in the hospital, he hasn't been able to forget the outlines of her body or the thoughts that ran after him.

Jade didn't notice, she was too distracted not letting any noise come out of her when he was touching her with his big, warm hands. But what she couldn't control was her breathing, it was almost a panting now and she tried to get a hold of it but she simply couldn't.

Negan looked up at her face and noticed the deep pink blush that was a stark contrast to her normal porcelain skin tone. He also noticed the way her pupils have almost eaten up her green iris. He only smirked to himself, feeling somewhat powerful with the way he affected her just by touching her thigh.

He decided to try something out and made it seem like his hand slipped, almost touching her ass. Jade let out something between a gasp and a soft mewl, and that was the moment Negan knew that there was no going back for neither her or him.

"Don't you dare fucking think I haven't noticed the way you fucking looked at me. Do you know how fucking hard it was, pun intended, to control myself around you since I've seen you fucking naked?" He questioned her in a raspy, seductive voice while he set her leg back down and crept his hand up her inner thigh. Negan felt triumphant that he finally caught her off-guard and that she has to be the one admitting it.

She instinctively spread her legs further apart, making him grin. He didn't need an answer from her, her body language was speaking for her now. When he reached her panties, he crept his hand inside and instantly felt how wet she already was. He found her clit instantly and began rubbing it in small, teasing circles.

"Jesus fuck, you're fucking soaked!" He grinned and Jade mewled softly but remembered to not be too loud so the people behind the door wouldn't hear them.

His fingers began to rub bigger and faster circles and she shifted and clenched her thighs beneath him. He yanked her panties down to her ankles and inserted two fingers inside her.

Jade yelped in surprise but it surged into a moan when he began to fuck her with his fingers. "You have the prettiest fucking pussy I've ever fucking seen." He inserted a third finger and sped his pace up.

At this point, Jade's concern on being too loud is completely forgotten as the familiar tingling sensation began to pool in her stomach and her vision turned white.

"Do you hear me fucking you with my fingers? Your pussy makes the most delicious sounds." He began to whisper in her ear and that was all it took for her to reach her orgasm.

She holds the mattress of the examination bed tight so that her knuckles turned white and her body began to tremble uncontrollably as he continued to finger her through her orgasm.

When she came down from her high, she panted heavily and looked up at the ceiling, processing what she just did and what she was about to do. Negan retracted his fingers and began to lick them clean, looking Jade directly in her eyes. She sat up and swung her legs over the bed and began to walk to the door, locking it.

When she turned around she smirked at him seductively and walked towards him with the elegance of a feline. She noticed the massive tent that was hidden under his white coat and she would have liked nothing more than to fall to her knees and relieve some of that built up tension.

So, she did exactly that.

She hastily opened his jeans and tugged them down along with his underwear. Jade licked her lips when his erection sprung free and took him in her hands, stroking him.

"My god, it's so big!" She held him upwards and sucked at the sensitive skin where his balls met the base of his dick and licked the underside of it with the flat of her tongue. She kissed his tip as drips of pre-cum stained her lips and she teasingly began to suck his head.

"If you keep teasing me like this I'm going to fucking punish you." Negan growled out as Jade looked at him from beneath her lashes and chuckled slightly.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" She asked as she released him from her mouth, widening it and began to take most of his length in between her lips. She used her hands to caress the length she couldn't reach.

She began to bob her head up and down on his length, getting wetter with each growl that left his lips. His hips began to oscillate leisurely and his hands tangled themselves in her hair.

His groans began to echo through the room and Jade bit gently into his erection in an attempt to quiet him down but it only made him moan louder. Suddenly, he pulled her away from his dick and panted heavily.

He chuckled, "Had to fucking pull you away or we would have had a fucking mess."

Jade cleaned away the salvia with the back of her hand and stood up while pulling off her tank top and bra. Negan guided her to the bed by the hips and she bent over, looking at him over her shoulder.

He began to take off his coat and the dark grey shirt he was wearing underneath. He was about to throw the clothing away when Jade spoke up, "No, please keep the coat on. I've always imagined you fucking me with them on."

Negan chuckled and shook his head slightly, "You fucking dirty girl! Have you always imagined me fucking you?" He put the coat back on and took his dick in his hands stroking himself gently while spreading her ass with his other hand.

"Relax doll, this might hurt." He told her in an almost soft tone. Jade scoffed, "Oh please, I'm not a virg… oh… oh my god." Her hands tightened their grip on the mattress while he began to thrust into her at a painful slow pace.

"How are you even human?" She moaned, her face twisted in a kind of pleasure she hasn't felt in years. He reached places inside of her she didn't even know she had.

He didn't seem to hear her as he was in his own world of pure pleasure. The way she tightened around him with each thrust and he was still lost in that amazing blowjob earlier.

"Please Negan, faster!" She moaned out when suddenly his palm connected with her ass, making it sting, but that just added to her pleasure.

He picked his pace up and groaned out between clenched teeth, "What do you call me, babygirl?"

"Oh, daddy please, harder!" She moaned out and his eyes widened at what he just called her, but he was too far gone in his own pleasure to make a snarky remark at her.

Their moans and groans, grunts and growls, cries and screams echoed around the room. Jade was still sensitive from her first orgasm, she felt like her whole body was set on fire. Like Negan's cock was setting them alight, surrounded by raging flames.

Jade's legs began to shake uncontrollably again, so that she could barely keep herself up. Negan flipped her over so he could look at her when her orgasm hit once again.

"I'm going to… oh god. Come!" Jade screamed out as her inner walls began to clamp down as she could feel herself dissolving into pleasure and her vision was decorated by stars.

He kept on fucking her through her orgasm and the way she tightened around him made his world stutter on its axis. He let out a strangled grunt from deep within his throat and came in her.

His whole body went limp but he somehow managed to hold himself up so he wouldn't crush her beneath his weight. This was without a single doubt one of the most intense fuck's he's ever had. He closed his eyes and sighed in satisfaction and that his fantasies have finally become a realitiy.

He rested his head on the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Coconut, sweat and sex. He began to rub his scruff down the sensitive skin to which she began to shudder and giggle.

Gradually, Jade opened her eyes and looked up at him grinning when she saw the satisfied look on his face. If she was being completely honest, this was exactly what she needed. A good fuck with one of the best orgasms she ever had.

Negan slipped out of her and pulled up his boxers and pants while she got up, slipping on her own clothes again. But before she could pull up her panties, Negan handed her a tissue to clean herself up.

She eyed him oddly, but then her eyes widened so they almost popped out of her head. Jade began to put on the rest of her clothes as she asked, "Oh please don't tell me you came inside of me?" She pleaded, not believing that they were in such a haste that they forgot protection.

"I certainly fucking did. Why?" The pride in his voice pissed her off even more so she stomped over to him, holding his confused gaze with her own angry and frightened one.

Jade didn't say anything, she didn't have to as realization dawned on him.

"Hold on a fucking second! You're not on the pill?"

---

#jdm #jdm fanfiction #negan x oc #negan x ofc #negan #twd negan #negan's thirst squad #negans-network #negan smut #jeffrey dean morgan #negan fanfic #negan fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction #medical checkup

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pinkstarbeam · 7 years

Text

Walking computer. Chapter one: Shocking discovery

It’s finally done! A huge thanks to @justpidgance @thenerdbeast and @tory-b for helping me finish this after a good month and a half of writers block

Lightning struck the ground miles away from the Holt family home and soon after a boom of thunder sounded, Katie Holt, the youngest of the Holt household was unfazed as she typed away on the keyboard of her desktop computer. Opening her skype after a quick youtube song search she noticed that one of her friends had messaged her, opening up the chat she quickly scanned over the simple message

HunkaHunka: Hey KatieKat: Hey, enjoying the storm? :3c HunkaHunka: Eh, I don’t really mind it, but anyway how is your history report coming? I just finished mine. KatieKat: I’m working on it as we speak, JFK was one scandalous man. HunkaHunka: Oh you’re working on your laptop then, unplugged I hope. <.< KatieKat: No, I’m on the desktop. HunkaHunka: Katie! It’s storming what if lightning hits near us and fries your computer then electrocute you? KatieKat: Hunk pls that’s just a myth, and besides the storm is miles away.

Another rumble of thunder sounded though this time it seemed louder, the storm had been miles away a mere few minutes ago, shaking her head Katie figured it must have been some kind of echo.

HunkaHunka: Did you jinx the storm or something? That thunder was crazy loud!

Katie went to type her response when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a bolt of lightning strike the power box outside, but before she could react the electricity coursed its way through the electrical circuits and into the tips of Katie’s finger, the zap so powerful that she went flying back all the way across the room, the last thing she saw before blacking out was her desktop going up in flames.

A month-long coma and multiple physical therapy appointments later Katie was back to her normal self, the incident that had happened in late November seemed so far away now that it was mid-February. She had felt weird ever since the incident but never brought it up thinking it was probably just her body still getting used to the metal pole in her left arm after she broke it from slamming against the wall that night. “Geez you’d think after almost two months my body would feel better.” she mumbled as she slouched back against the number of pillows she kept on her bed for comfort. Looking to her left arm she poked at the area that she knew was now metal and no longer bone, it made her feel like some kind of cyborg which in her book was pretty fucking cool. Picking up her laptop she felt a strange jolt in her left arm, dropping the computer back onto her bed she quickly grabbed her left arm whilst stringing out a line of mumbled curses as she waited for the pain to dull. “What the hell was that-” she began, but cut herself off as she pulled her right hand away from her left arm to reveal that her whole left inner forearm was glowing, and not just glowing but, looked like a digital keyboard. She had to be dreaming...Right? Poking the T key on the keyboard she heard a subtle tap and nearly jumped out of her skin. Grabbing her laptop she quickly opened it and brought up a blank Google Doc, looking to her left arm again she began to type out her name, once finished she felt a cold chill run down her spine as the google doc read simply ‘Katie Holt’. Shutting her laptop she quickly scrambled away from it feeling as if she had just committed some kind of crime. ‘What the hell is going on?’ she thought and picked up her phone. Once again the same jolt came once her left hand came in contact with the smartphone, hissing loudly she began to dial hunk and put the phone to her ear. “Katie! What’s up?” Hunk answered cheerfully. Katie blinked as she heard an echo “Are you in a tunnel?”. “What? No, I'm in the living room watching my twin sisters why?” her best friend asked confused. Katie’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, moving the phone a little away from her ear she spoke again “Are you sure?”. “Yeah, I mean I can snapchat you them watching lion king right now,” he laughed. The sixteen-year-old questioned how hunk heard her so clearly and why there was an echo. Sitting her phone on her bed she began to speak again. “Can you hear me?” Katie asked. “Uhm yes? Loud and clear why?” Hunk asked sounding as equally confused as she felt. Biting her lip she got up and walked to the other side of her room, she had to be slightly drowned out there right? “What about now?” the sixteen-year-old asked one more time. Her best friend groaned “Yes Katie, crystal”. “Hunk, I am literally walking down the hall to the kitchen and my phone is in my room.” she said walking out her door. “No way, did you invent something?!” he asked excitedly. Katie looked her right hand that she had been holding against her chest and moved it away “No.”. “What was that? You faded out.” Hunk replied. Feeling sick Katie brought her right hand up to her mouth as if to cover it and started speaking “And now?” “Good again.” the older boy declared. Katie started to shake horribly, what was going on? Why could she hear phone calls in her head and type on her computer using her left arm that was now a subtle green glowing keyboard for some reason. Running to her room she quickly locked the door behind her in an absolute panic as she tried to search for some kind of logical reasoning for this, but the only one she could come up with was she was dreaming and after multiple pinches she was fairly certain she was wide awake and living some kind of nightmare or one of Matt’s childish pranks that sometimes went too far. “Hunk I gotta go.” she said and hung up on Hunk before he could object. Opening her computer she began to type using the normal keyboard into Google ‘I can hear phone calls in my head’ which made her sound like some kind of crazy person. A thing called phantom ringing came up, but that wasn’t what she meant and the rest was useless voicemail and speakerphone stuff. This was something out of one of Lance’s comic books and though she enjoyed the stories she knew they were all fictional, science fiction if you will, but what was happening to her right now wasn’t fiction, she had become some kind of computerized human in the few months after the incident. “Relax Katie.” she spoke out loud to herself whilst taking a deep breath “Just go to sleep, everything will be fine after a nap.” she mumbled the last part whilst tucking herself under her green comforter. Beginning to close her eyes she blocked out any thoughts from entering her mind as she focused solely on things that made her feel sleepy, but her focus was quickly changed when there was repetitive loud knocking on her front door. ‘You have to be kidding me.’ Katie thought as she slid out from under the comforter. “Katie it’s me!” she heard Hunk’s familiar voice call to her as she descended the stairs. The brunette blinked in confusion as she opened up the door to see Hunk holding the hands of his little twin sisters “The heck Hunk!?” she said being mindful of little ears. Hunk walked in quickly and gave his sisters a bag of toys he had brought “You can’t just sound all panicked and hang up on me like that!” he declared puffing out his cheeks. Katie couldn’t help but smile a bit at her best friends behavior, he had been protective of her and Lance since they were kids so she should have seen all of this coming. “Alright, Ronda and Rachelle stay here and play with your toys alright?” Hunk said looking to the twin girls that were currently looking through the bag of toys. The brown eyed girls nodded signaling to both Hunk and Katie that it was safe to go talk in the next room, for the time being, walking into the kitchen Katie felt her anxiety rise at the thought of explaining all of this to Hunk, but she rather it be him than some doctor who would probably make her some kind of human lab rat. “Alright, so what is going on?” Hunk asked as he helped himself to a glass of water. Biting her lip the sandy-haired brunette began to search for the right words “Well you see…” she began “Something or well, I think the accident did..something to me.”. The ebony haired teen blinked “I mean you have a metal pole in your arm so.” he said sipping his water. As she began to fidget with her hands she remembered her left inner forearm had turned into a keyboard “Okay I'm going to show you something, but you can’t tell ANYONE about this, and I mean anyone Hunk, that includes Lance and your Moms.”. Sitting down his water as he felt the air get more serious the older boy then gave a nod but was confused as to what could be so serious from the girl who literally sends alien memes to the group chat at four A.M. Taking a deep breath Katie stretched out her left arm and gently poked at her inner forearm, suddenly the digital keyboard came to like and Hunk’s tan features went pale. “Th-That’s one convincing tattoo.” Hunk nervously laughed. Katie shook her head taking Hunk’s hand “Touch it.” her tone serious. Gulping he gently poked at one of the keys and noticed it turned darker like an actual digital keyboard would at touch “What the fu-” he began to yell but, Katie cut him off by slamming her hand over his mouth. “That’s not the only thing, remember the phone situation?” Katie asked not removing her hand from the other mouth. Hunk nodded. “I could hear the whole call in my head and my right wrist was acting as the transmitter.” she said removing her hand from the male’s mouth. Hunk stood silent for a good minute not sure how to exactly reply to the fact that one of his childhood best friends was now some kind of cyborg, yet not, more or so like a walking computer. “What else can you do now?” he finally asked. “I-I’m not sure…” Katie answered as she raked her sandy brown locks through her fingers “All this happened after I touched my laptop and phone.”. “Wait after you touched them?” Hunk asked. She nodded “I picked up both and in doing so I felt this really painful jolt, but after it happened I had a usable keyboard on my skin and could hear phone calls in my head.”. “Have you tried any other electronics?” he asked. Katie blinked “Didn’t know you saw me as some kind of masochist.”. Hunk rolled his eyes “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it, I mean can you like get powers from other people’s electronics.”. The sixteen-year-old shrugged “Give me your phone and we’ll see.”. “What? No!” the male squeaked as he held his phone protectively “Use Matt’s laptop or something!”. “And have his search history seared into my brain?! No way!” she nearly gagged at the thought of what could possibly be on Matt’s computer. “Wait for what?” he asked, “You would get the stuff off his computer if you touched it?”. Shrugging Katie closed her eyes “Let me check something.” she then began to think about files on her computer and suddenly a file of pictures simply title ‘friends’ popped up and began to come into view one by one as if she was looking a computer screen. “Well?” Hunk asked. Opening her eyes to answer she was quickly cut off by Hunk’s scream “What?!” “Your eyes are glowing!” he yelped. Katie looked at him like he was insane, but the noticed on the wall behind them was a projection of the picture she had been viewing when she opened her eyes, it was one of their group of friends at the beach last summer. Seeing her shock Hunk turned to see what Katie was looking at “You’re doing that?!”. She nodded and closed her eyes again thinking of something else other than the photo and when she opened her eyes there was a youtube video of a kitten playing in place of the picture as Hunk watched in astonishment and slight horror. Closing her eyes one last time she cut off any kind of thought that could project and when she opened her eyes again there was no longer any kind of projection on the wall. Hunk brought both of his hands together and held them in front of his mouth as he drew in a deep sigh “Katie this is…”. “Weird, strange, freaky?” Katie suggested. “Awesome!” the older boy declared. The brunette shook her head a bit in shock “Come again?”. She asked seeing as a minute ago Hunk looked like he was gonna faint. “I mean yeah it’s weird, but like, you’re a walking computer!” he cheered happily. “Wouldn’t cyborg fit better?” she asked. He thought for a moment “What is the definition of a cyborg?” Katie felt a strange shiver go up to her spine “Cyborg, noun, a fictional or hypothetical person whose physical abilities are extended beyond normal human limitations by mechanical elements built into the body.”. Hunk blinked “Did you just…” “I just fucking did a web search with my brain!” she squeaked holding her head as panic overtook her. “Alright calm down, it’s new information to this already shocking development, but I'm sure with time we can figure this out.” the male spoke as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Sighing Katie threw herself into one of the bar stools her family had around the breakfast bar, all of this was making her head spin, had she really turned into some kind of superhuman? It would explain why the shock hadn’t killed her, but still how was it scientifically possible? Raking a hand through her hair once more she let out an annoyed groan as she placed her head on the bar as her head continued to spin. Rhonda walked into the room, her dark brown curls bouncing around her face as she tugged at Hunk’s leg “I’m hungry!”. Shortly after Rachelle ran in “Me too!”. Hunk laughed “Well maybe big sister Pidge wants to go out to lunch with us?” he asked using Katie’s nicknamed. Katie raised her head and managed a smile at the two girls who were currently giving her puppy dog eyes “Alright, let me go get my bag.”

Entering the small diner in downtown Altea was always a pleasant experience, the air always smelled of delicious foods and the staff was friendly and polite which made you want to return in the future. Walking over to a booth both teenagers slid into either side accompanied by one of the twins, as they sat there Katie couldn’t help but feel like some kind of freak of nature that didn’t belong around normal humans anymore. Hunk noticed Katie shift uncomfortably “Katie relax, you look normal as long as you don’t, ‘ya know.” he said addressing the glowing eye situation earlier. “Know what?” a familiar voice asked. Looking up Katie seen Shiro, her brother Matt’s and Allura’s boyfriend holding two normal menus and two kid ones “I forgot you worked here!”. The older male laughed “Wow I'm hurt Katie, to think I grew up with you.”. She stuck her tongue out at him as she felt a wave of calmness wash over her, Hunk was right, as long as her powers or whatever you wanted to refer to them as didn’t act up she looked like a normal teenager. “Alright what will we be having to drink today?” Shiro asked as he pressed his pen into the writing pad. “Two fanta oranges for the twins and just a tea for me.” Hunk said as his eyes scanned the menu. “Okay, and for you Katie?” the eighteen-year-old asked. Katie thought for a moment “Just a glass of water.”. “Alright, i’ll be right back with those,” Shiro said with a smile as he walked back towards the kitchen. Relaxing back against the red-padded booth Katie watched as Ronda and Rachelle doodled on the paper menu with the supplied crayons, taking out her phone she went to turn on her camera, however when she did her vision changed to be as if she was looking into a camera. Hunk noticed how pale Katie had grown “You okay?”. Katie quickly exited the camera setting on her phone and closed her eyes, when she opened them again everything was back to normal ‘No. No, I am not.’ she thought laying her head down. Shiro approached the table and sat the drinks down before casting a look of worry at Katie “Are you okay? Should I call Matt to come get you?”. Sighing she shook her head “It’s alright guys, just tired.” she lied faking a smile. Both males gave her a look that basically said we don’t believe you, but we will let it slide for now to which Katie was very thankful for. Shiro took their orders and left for the kitchen once more leaving the twins and the teens alone once more. “Katie are you sure we shouldn’t talk to an actual-” Hunk began, but was cut off. “No!” Katie said covering her face with her hands. Her best friend frowned “Katie how else are we gonna figure this out?”. “I don’t know.” she replied honestly “All I know is that if I tell an actual doctor what is going on I'm either gonna get thrown in the loony bin or become a human lab rat.”. “Isn’t Allura studying bio-med?” he asked sipping his tea. Sighing the sandy-haired brunette glanced out the window “I don’t know Hunk.” she repeated herself. Hunk gave a sigh of his own he crossed his arms over his chest “We can’t just ignore this and you know it.” “Well can we at least just talk about it later?” Katie hissed in annoyance. Rachelle picked up her coloring page that was inside her menu and showed Katie “Look Katie! I gave the cat glasses like yours!”. A smile crossed the older girl’s face “That’s really cool Rach’!”. Ronda held up her coloring page, it was the same picture except this cat had Hunk’s signature working headband on rather than Katie’s glasses “I have mine bubba’s headband!”. Both teenagers smiled feeling the worry of all the techno mumbo jumbo leave their thoughts for a little while thanks to the girls, they even joined in on doodling on napkins with the crayons while they waited for their food. Needless to say, the afternoon was saved thanks to the twins, but Katie and Hunk both knew, in the end, they would have to really talk all of this through in order to reach a conclusion even if Katie wished to just ignore it.

When Monday came Katie felt as if the whole world was watching her and waiting for her to mess up and reveal that she was now some kind of superhuman. Staring into the full-length mirror in her personal bathroom she felt like she should look slightly different, but she didn’t she still had the same mid back length sandy brown hair, hazel eyes hidden behind reading glasses, and pale freckled skin. “I can do this.” she mumbled to herself as she nervously ran her brush through her hair one last time. “Katie!” Matt yelled from outside her bedroom door “Hurry up Shiro is almost here to take us to school!”. “Coming!” she replied and quickly gathered her things. Shiro taking the Holt siblings to school wasn’t anything new, he had been doing it since he got his permit back when Katie was in her last year of middle school so that none of them had to ride the dreaded bus anymore. “Bye Mom! Bye, Dad!” Katie yelled as she ran past the kitchen and towards the front door. “Oh! Bye, sweetie!” her Mother called back. “Have a good day sweet pea!” her Father replied after. Quickly slipping on her shoes that were at the door she then exited the house to see Shiro’s black SUV parked in the driveway, Matt already in the passenger seat as the two talked about who knew what. Opening the passenger side back door Katie climbed in “Talking about me?” she joked. “Oh definitely.” Matt played along with a snort. Shiro shook his head with a smile on his face “We were talking superheroes.”. “Never took you for a superhero fan, Shiro” Katie said buckling. “I mean I really wasn’t until Matt showed me this one, his name is Barry Allen and his super ego is known as The Flash, pretty cool dude.” he replied as he backed out. “How insane would it be if stuff like that could actually happen?” Matt added. Katie gave her best attempt at a laugh trying to hide her nerves “Yeah, it would be pretty insane.”. Keith, Shiro’s adopted younger brother and one of Katie’s best friends took his headphones out “You guys are both nerds.”. “Says the guy who's listening to five years old All Time Low songs.” Shiro snorted. Katie and Matt stifled a laugh while Keith shot a death glare towards the rear view mirror so Shiro could see it. Katie was thankful Keith was with them, he was easily her third best friend next to Hunk and Lance even if he and Lance didn’t really get along all that well, he was her cryptid and alien buddy. Once they were at the school Katie quickly hopped out of the SUV and made a b line for the school’s front doors, Keith easily keeping up with her as they entered Altea High with it’s oh so familiar smell of sub par cafeteria food and teachers lounge coffee. “Hey, Pidge!...Mullet.” Lance called out their nicknames as he approached them. Keith groaned “You’re annoying. See you first period Katie.” he said ruffling his friend hair before walking off to his locker “Man, what’s his issue?” Lance asked as he walked with Katie towards the cafeteria. Katie shrugged “I mean you could call him by his actual name you know.”. He smirked “Mullet isn’t his actual name?” he joked. She elbowed his side as a small smile crossed her face “Come on at least try to be nice McClain.”. “Ouch last name! That hurts Holt.” he said putting an arm around her shoulders as they entered the cafeteria. Removing his arm from around her Katie sat down across from Hunk and Shay at their table while the two lovebirds were sharing a cutesy moment of debating who loved who the most, it was enough to make her lose her appetite. Lance faked a loud cough causing the pair to look up “Hey.”. “Oh hey, Lance.” Hunk waved with a smile then looked to Katie “Hey to you too.”. Katie nodded and looked to the side signaling to Hunk that she needed to talk to him. “Ah, I'll be right back okay?” he said looking to Shay. Shay nodded “I need to go find Allura anyway to give her back her notes.” Hunk nodded and told Lance that he and Katie would be right back which earned a questioning eyebrow raise from the other male. “You two hiding something from me?” Lance asked. Hunk shook his head “It’s just robotics club stuff.” he lied. “Yeah!” Katie added. “And you can’t talk about it around me?” the Cuban asked. “Lance anytime we mention robotics you either fall asleep while we talk or change the topic.” she replied placing her hands on her hips. “True, alright see you guys later!” Lance said heading for the lunch line. Hunk and Katie both gave a sigh of relief and made their way outside of the school and to the back alley way where they could talk in private. “Alright, so any new discoveries?” Hunk asked leaning against the wall. Katie shook her head “No, but that doesn’t mean whatever this isn’t going to act up today.”. He nodded in agreement “Yeah I mean if you do that google search thing again you’re bound to look suspicious.” Groaning the brunette slid down the wall burying her face in her hands “Hunk what am I gonna do?”. “I really think we need to tell Allura.” Hunk answered. “Tell me what?” A familiar feminine voice asked. Katie yelped in surprise as she looked up to see the one and only Allura, her light blond nearly white hair was braided and thrown over her shoulder giving the full view of her curious and suspicious blue eyes. “N-Nothing!” Katie squeaked out waving her hands wildly “It’s nothing!”. Allura frowned “Katie you know you can tell me anything.” ‘Except this’ Katie thought. Hunk couldn’t hold it in anymore “Katie has super powers!” “Hunk!” Katie hissed. “I’m sorry, okay, but this is just weird and Allura is the only person we know who could possibly help!” He said throwing his arms out on either side of him. Allura has a small chuckle “That’s a funny joke guys, now what’s really going on?”. Katie sighed running her hands through her hair “It’s...It’s not a joke.”. The older female’s eyebrows knitted together “Katie it’s physically impossible for super powers to be well real.”. Looking around to make the coast was clear first Katie touched her inner left forearm causing the keyboard to light up “Well they are.”.

#walking computer #WA #voltron fanfic #pidge superhero au #this will be a slow burn pidgance fic so aye

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