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favefandomimagines · 3 years

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With All Due Respect (e.b.)

Summary: Buck invites you to dinner with his parents as a buffer but things turns sour quickly

AN: happy vday!! enjoy a little fluff/angst with buck! xoxo

“I need you at this dinner tonight.” Buck announced as he entered your apartment. “I thought it was just you guys and Chim.” You replied. “Yes, but you’re my girlfriend, my best friend and I need you to be at this dinner tonight because it’s going to be bad.” He explained.

You didn’t really want to insert yourself in Buckley family drama, especially when you’ve nothing but bad things about his parents. You’ve had your own issues with family, your brother having had a drug problem and your divorced parents. But, it was Buck and you knew if he was asking for help, it was serious.

“Okay, I’ll be there. Only because it’s you.” You finally said. “And this is why I...I am happy you’re in my life.” Buck replied, before kissing your forehead.

You noticed the stuttering and the long pause he had after ‘I.’ Neither have you had said the ‘L’ word yet, even if you had been dating for a year. Both of you had gotten out of messy relationships with people you thought you loved and you were both scared to say it. Mainly out of fear of suffering the same fate.

You wanted to say it though. You felt it, that much was certain. But you didn’t know if he felt the same way. Or if he was even ready to say he loved you.

Later that night, you stood in front of the closet mirror, glancing over your outfit. Both Buck and Maddie had warned you that their parents were...stuffy. And you wanted to look your best since you were dating their son.

“No, this looks stupid.” You muttered, taking the shirt off and throwing it on your bed. “This is ugly, this is not cute, they’d probably hate this.” You commented on every shirt in your closet.

“What are you doing?” Buck laughed. “I own no cute clothes. Nothing that’s going to impress your parents.” You answered. “Wear that one outfit. The one we wore on our second date.” He told you. “We went to an amusement park, Buck, I don’t think that’s classy enough for dinner with the parents.” You rebutted.

“I don’t care. I love you in that outfit.” Buck said. You smiled up at him before grabbing the outfit he had recommended. “Amusement park outfit it is.” You commented.

If you could turn back time and pray for a house fire so you wouldn’t have to attend dinner, you would. Sitting at the dinner table with Buck and his family was the definition of awkward. On top of that, the not so subtly jabs they made towards Buck and his career were starting to get on your nerves.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” Buck’s dad asked. “Um, I’m an EMT.” You answered. “I was on track for med school but being an EMT is more my speed.” You added. “Also, what happened to Abby, Evan?” Mrs. Buckley asked him.

You clenched your jaw just out of sheer discomfort at first but it soon turned into annoyance. “Mom. You know what happened with Abby so please don’t bring it up. Especially in front of Y/N, that’s not fair.” Buck rebutted.

“Y/N, choosing an EMT rather than med school is an interesting choice.” Mr. Buckley commented, quickly avoiding that subject matter.

“Well, my dad and my brother are both firefighters so I’ve been around them all my life. It just, felt like the right path.” You explained. “And your brother, is he married? I know being a firefighter can be a busy job.” Mrs. Buckley asked. “He’s not married but he’s dating a police officer in Austin. He’s a great guy for him.” You answered.

“Oh, so your brother is..” Mrs. Buckley started. “Gay. My brother is gay.” You finished for her.

You could see the look on their faces when you said your brother was gay and it was look you’d grown accustomed to when talking about him to ‘unaccepting’ people. Not exactly homophobic, but people who don’t really accept those who are gay and probably never will.

“I’m rather impressed you’re able to put up with Evan. He can be a handful.” Mr. Buckley said, again, changing the subject. “Um, I guess but aren’t we all handfuls?” You responded with a nervous laugh.

Buck gripped your hand under the table and you could see that from his side profile, he was at his breaking point.

“I think we’re going to head out. We have an early shift tomorrow.” He told you.

He helped you up from your chair and as you walked towards the door, you turned around and looked at his parents.

“With all due respect, Mr and Mrs Buckley, your son is the greatest man I’ve ever met. When I was a kid, my mother told me to find a man like my father. And I did, in your son. Now, I don’t know what it is that seems to upset you about him but that clearly means you don’t know him anymore. Because if you did, you’d be incredibly proud of him,” You started.

“He’s brave, kind, honorable and I am incredibly lucky to have him in my life. I love your son and I try like hell every day to make up for the love you didn’t give him.” You finished.

The room fell silent as you made your way out of the apartment. You couldn’t believe you just outed your feelings to Buck, in front of not just him, but his parents and Chimney.

The car ride back to your place was a silent one. Buck was just trying to wrap his head around what you said. He never knew you thought so highly of him and that you actually loved him.

He figured you did but what happened in his past always made him doubt your feelings.

“I’m sorry.” You said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything or tried to stick up for you. You’re more than capable of doing that on your own. Your parents probably hate me.” You explained.

“I couldn’t care less about what my parents think. And I’m glad you said it. I don’t know, maybe hearing it from an outside perspective will knock some sense into them.” Buck replied.

But he never said that he loved you back, which had you fearing the worst. “And I’m sorry for saying the L word. I know you’re not ready to hear it and I didn’t know I was ready to say it until I just said it. You don’t have to say it back, I understand-” Your ranting was cut off by Buck grabbing your hand gently.

“I do love you. Hearing what you said made me realize how much I do love you. Because you didn’t have to defend me but you did. Because you love me and I don’t think that’s something Abby could ever do. Not like you.” He said.

“Really?” You questioned. “Of course. I’ve screwed up a lot of things in my life but I can’t have us being one of them. Me taking so long to say I love you when I felt it almost did that.” He explained.

You squeezed his hand as a sign that he shouldn’t worry. “So, since you love me, does that mean I can convince you to watch Bring It On with me?” You asked mischievously.

“All you had to do was ask.” Buck laughed. You laughed in response and the sound was like music to Buck’s ears.

Your laugh was always his favorite thing but now it just felt different. Being with you felt different. All because now your relationship was now solidified with just three words that were long overdue.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 lone star #oliver stark

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anna-justice · 3 years

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like i’m gonna lose you

summary: my take on the fall out of 8x16.

read on a03

...

“Get your hands off of me”

Hailey stirred in her chair, her grip on Jay’s hand tightening a bit. They couldn’t bring themselves to care about appearances as they sat in the waiting room of MED, anxiously awaiting news on Kim. Hailey had dozed off on Jay’s shoulder pretty quickly, not that he minded. He was sure she had had a rough few hours, despite her vague responses.

“You knew exactly what to expect when you came here.”

There was a soft moan from beside him and Jay looked down to find his girlfriend’s eyebrows laced together. Her knee shook slightly, grabbing his attention. “Hailey?” He whispered, earning no response.

“This is what it feels like.”

Hailey flinched hard in her sleep, her bottom lip beginning to quiver, Jay’s heart dropped into his stomach. She was having a nightmare. He shifted slightly, bringing his free hand to her hair and tightening his grip on her hand. “I’m here Hailes, come back to me.” He said softly in her ear as he ran his fingers through her hair.

The movement startled her, causing her to flinch again. “I saw.” She muttered - still asleep - a stray tear falling down her cheek, “I saw-” Before Jay could react, she shot up, grabbing the attention of too many people around her.

Jay’s hand immediately found her shoulder, “Hey, you’re good. It was just a dream, you’re safe.” He took note of the half nod she gave him, the fake smile, the way her blue eyes were clouded with tears. Hailey looked down at their intertwined hands, pulling hers close to her body. “Hailey?” He asked, a little hurt.

She looked like she had seen a ghost, and honestly, she felt like she had. The only way to describe the feeling in the pit of her stomach was absolute terror: she was scared that Voight would walk through the sliding glass doors, she was scared of what she had become, she was scared of what Jay would think of her. She was absolutely terrified of the shell of a person he would leave behind when he finally came to his senses and walked away. “I-uh-I,” She stuttered, standing slowly, “I need some air.” She barely got the words out before running out of the building.

Jay stood to follow her, he had always been good at giving her space, letting her handle things on her own first, but this was killing him. She was spiraling, he could see it. She had spotted it in him so many times before. He was sick of standing on the sidelines while she fought alone but she wouldn’t let him in, not this time. And as much as he wanted to be her husband, he knew the proposal was only a product of whatever the hell had happened, he just never got the chance to ask what that was.

“I don’t want to be without you.” Hailey said, her sad eyes locked on his. He knew (or at least he thought he knew) what she was getting at. He remembered the way he felt when she was kidnapped, he remembers the panic that set in on her face when he was shot.

Jay felt the tears forming in his own, squinting a bit. It almost wrecked him to see her like this, so scared of losing what they had. He understood, he felt the exact same way, but it was different. He knew that no one else had ever stayed for her, no one else every cared, and he was determined to be the one that did. “You’re not gonna be.” He said, because how the was he supposed to say everything that he tried to push into those 4 little words? How could he make her believe that she was it for him?

Hailey searched his face for any sign of regret or inconsistency, but she found none. Somehow though, she still wasn’t one hundred perfect sure. She couldn’t bear to lose him, she wouldn’t survive it. How could she ever feel secure when she had so much to lose? The second the thought crossed her mind, the words tumbled from between her lips, shocking her as much as him. “Maybe we should get married.”

Jay looked at her blankly, obviously in shock. She could see it all over his face, he couldn’t believe what she was saying, she couldn’t either. “I’m serious, let’s get married.”

In a split second, Jay saw it all. The life they would have: the white wedding, the lazy saturdays, the holidays, the kids, the house, the dog, the years they would spend growing old together, the family trips to the cabin. He saw it all, and it was in reach. He never believed that he would could have any of it, but with Hailey, he wanted everything. He would marry her tomorrow, but not like this. Not when the love of his life was standing in front of him so broken down that the only way she thought she could keep him was through a meaningless certificate.

Hailey watched his smile fade, causing the panic to set in. “Jay, we can elope. We don’t have to wait. We can fly to Mexico or Hawaii or anywhere. Hell let’s do it here, I just want to be with you-”

“Hailey, breathe.” He said delicately, placing his hand on her cheek to keep her grounded. He leaned in, kissing her gently before pulling away to look her in the eyes, which were focused on anything but his. “Look at me, please.” She did - reluctantly - taking a deep breath when she realized his soft smile had reappeared. “I love you. And I will love you for the rest of my life. Nothing is going to change that. All I want to do is be with you, please believe me.”

Hailey shook her head, tears beginning to fall. “I love you so much-”

“Baby, tell me what’s going on. I want to help. Let me help you.” He was practically begging her.

She shook her head again, “Jay,” She gasped, “I can’t. Not until you say yes. I need you-”

Suddenly, his phone began to ring. If it was any other day, he would ignore it, but today was not any other day. “It’s Kev.”

Jay talked quietly on the phone for a minute or two. Hailey took the time to compose herself, to prepare for the worst: the end of her relationship. By the time Jay turned back around the light in her eyes was gone and there was a fake smile on her face, one that only he could see through. “Is she okay?” Hailey asked.

“Uh yeah, he just wants us to come so that he can go switch with Adam.” Hailey nodded, grabbing her phone off the table along with her keys. He cautiously followed her to the door. “We’re gonna be okay Hailes, no matter what.” He said, knowing full and well that this conversation was far from over.

Hailey nodded, “I know.” The left the apartment, and Hailey did her best to ignore the feeling of dread deep in her chest, but it was inescapable. No one could walk away clean from she had done, not her, not even Voight.

Hailey leaned against the wall outside of MED, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing and her eyes were burning, she clenched them shut to dull the ache, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was a gun pointed in her face.

“Just because your stomach can’t handle it.”

Hailey gagged, doubling over and leaning against the concrete wall.

“Cause you’re scared.”

She emptied the content of her stomach into the grass, choking and coughing violently as tears continued to stream down her face. Her vision clouded again, images of Voight’s face splattered with blood as he approached her running through her head. It felt so familiar.

Maybe it was her father’s reappearance in her life, but she felt like she was a child again. Hiding behind the couch or in her room, him screaming at her and her brothers as they ran scared. Her past was taunting her, like it was trying to prove to her that she would never be rid of it. That history would always repeat itself.

Jay followed her, watching from the doorway as she threw up. He rushed to her, “Hailey-” His hand touched her shoulder and she gasped, pulling away quickly and facing him, her arms shielding her face. Jay took a step back, caught off guard by the terror clearly shown on her face. She was frozen, panting hard.

“I-I’m sorry-I,” She said softly, slowly bringing her hands down to her sides. Jay watched as her gaze fell to the ground, his heart dropping into his stomach. He took a cautious step forward. “I’m not, I’m not afraid of you, I-”

Jay’s expression softened, “I know, I know. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He was hurt, sure, but this wasn’t about him. It was so much bigger than him.

Hailey wasn’t sure what emotion was more overwhelming: the fear, the guilt or the physical pain she felt in her chest. He looked so defeated, and it was her fault. He thought she was afraid of him.

He took another step forward, “Can I?” He motioned to his outstretched hand, holding it out to her. Hailey nodded, slipping her hand into his. He slowly pulled her into to him, her arms snaking around his waist and her cheek pressed against his chest. She took a deep breath, instantly calming her. “Hailey?” She hummed in response. “Can you please tell me what happened? You’re starting to scare me.”

Hailey took a step back, looking him straight in the eye, memorizing the way they were looking at her, in case it was the last time they ever showed that much love. She nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him to a bench further away from the hospital. This was the last place she wanted to tell him, but he obviously couldn’t wait any longer, he shouldn’t have to. She couldn’t be selfish with him.

They sat down, facing each other. Hailey let her hand fall out of his, folding hers in her lap. “Voight did find a lead.” She said, shrugging. “Ruzek and I didn’t know, he gave us the legit addresses. Adam, he um, he kind of lost it so I told him to go be with Mackayla, and he did. So, I went to find Voight.”

Jay’s eyebrows were cinched together, listening intently. “He was at some warehouse, he had Roy. I walked in and he, uh he, he pulled his gun on me.” Jay’s jaw clenched, but he kept his cool (barely), letting her continue. “He was beating information out of Roy, then you radioed that you found Kim, but-but he was going to kill him anyway. We fought.” Hailey took a breath, but continued to ramble, “I convinced him to bring him in. I wanted to do it the right way, we were going to do it the right way, like you. I wanted to do it right, like you, Jay. But then, then-then he reached for Voight’s gun and, Jay I swear he was going to shoot Voight, so I-” Hailey choked out a sob, unable to look her partner in the eye.

Jay slid his hands in Hailey’s lap, wrapping them around hers. Hailey’s head shot up, shock written all over it, “So you shot him, to protect your Sargeant.” Jay finished for her. She risked her career to protect him even though Voight had no care for hers.

Hailey shuddered, “I promise, I tried. I told him to drop the weapon. I saw him, he had the gun in his hand. I wanted to do it right.”

“Shhh,” Jay said, pulling her to him. “It was a good shoot Hailes, you did it right.” He held her as her tears soaked his shirt, running a hand through her hair. He was trying to soothe her, but he was seething. He couldn’t believe Voight had put her in that situation. Voight had been on the job a long time, he knew better than to come into close contact with a violent offender with an exposed weapon.

Once he wrapped his brain around his anger, it hit him.

“No Jay, not until you say yes.”

Hailey was scared that he would blame her, or leave her over this. He held her a little tighter, his own tears gathering in his eyes as he held her. “I love you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That grabbed Hailey’s attention. She peered up at him, her blue eyes filled with tears and hope. “Really?” She asked quietly, her voice breaking.

Jay nodded, not trusting his own voice. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Hailey’s eyes fluttered closed, this time, no flashbacks plaguing her mind. His hand settled on her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Jay pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “Really,” He whispered

There was a cough beside them, and Jay looked up first. Hank Voight was standing before them. “How’s she doing?” He asked.

Hailey stared at him in shock. He looked like he always did. He was no longer wearing his tactical gear and his face was no longer splattered with blood. He was Voight, like nothing had happened. For a split second Hailey envied him, his ability to walk away unscathed, like it was any other Wednesday night and the only thing wrong was Kim’s life was hanging in the balance. Then she looked at Jay, whose jaw was clenched and his eyes were stuck on sergeant. He was just as strong, maybe even stronger, and he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he could do it, so could she.

Jay stood, looking like a force to be reckoned with. “You need to leave.”

Voight scoffed, quickly glancing at Hailey, “Excuse me.”

“You heard me Sarge, leave. Now.” Jay said. His voice staying low, but intimidating nonetheless.

“I have a right to be here Jay, to see Burgess,” Voight said, his words becoming louder as he took a step forward.

“Then go, be the leader you’re supposed to be, but don’t you dare go near her.” Hailey’s breath caught in the back of her throat, her heart swelling at the sight in front of her. Voight glared at Jay, nodding shortly. Jay took another step forward, so that their faces were level, “And if she is brought into this, in any way, I will bury you.” He never raised his voice, or made any move to physically escalate the situation. The last thig he wanted to do was scare Hailey more than she already was.

“Understood,” Voight said, with a trace of venom that could have been deadly.

They parted ways, Voight entering the hospital doors and jay turning to face his girlfriend, who had been silent. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Hailey nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.” She met his concerned gaze. “Thank you.”

Jay gave her a soft smile, “Of course.” She glanced between him and the hospital doors, a nervous look on her face. Jay held out his hand, which she gladly took. “Come on, we can come back in the morning.”

Hailey sighed in relief, standing. He guided them down the sidewalk, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let’s go home Hailes.”

“Hold on.” Hailey said, her anxiety getting the best of her again. She turned to face him, their eyes locking. She felt tears gather in eyes once again at the look in his, the one she had memorized, that she had prayed would never disappear. She smiled as he eyed her. “Ok, I’m good.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of his truck. “Let’s go home.”

…

A/N: I couldn’t help myself, I had to haha. I can’t believe the premieres are only a month away! Thanks for reading <3

#jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #upstead one shot #8x16 #chiacgo pd #one chicago #hank voight

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halstudandruz · 3 years

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Give In

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Tragedy occurs after a night of passion

Warnings: swearing, talk of mentally abusive relationship, miscarriage/pregnancy loss

“Don’t come crying to me when you need support for that mistake.” Jared scoffed, bringing tears to your eyes at his words.

“I should’ve never come here.” You shook your head, “I should’ve listened to Jay.” You put your hand over your stomach protectively.

“Oh here we go again. Because Jay knows everything, and I’m supposed to believe that’s my kid and not his in there? Spare me.” He laughed in your face.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you I haven’t slept with him.” You yelled, getting angrier by the second.

“At least I can admit I fucked Sarah.” He shrugged.

“Well, I caught you so it’s not like you had an opportunity to lie.” You reminded him.

“I was doing perfectly fine the last 4 months. I must say though, I’m quite glad I won’t have to sit here and watch you get any fatter.” He smirked, a cocky look on his face. Trying to hurt you with his words.

“You’re such a jackass. I’m done with this.” You turned walking out of your once shared apartment, slamming the door behind you.

Jay had told you not to go there. Told you it would end bad, but you thought he deserved to know. He might’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but you figured he deserved a chance to be a decent father, but as always Jay was right. You and Jared had been together for over a year and your relationship was a rollercoaster. He was charming, but manipulative. He never hurt you physically, but he knew all the right ways to hurt you with his words, to make you feel self conscious, less than, and crazy. Then you found him in bed with your old friend, and that was the end of it. You finally had the courage to leave that you had been searching for. Except a couple months later you made the mistake of spending the night with him. The case you had that week really got to you. You were out drinking with your team when you caught Jay leaving with a nurse from Chicago Med, and jealousy reared its ugly head harder than ever before. Without thinking you ended up in front of your old apartment and the night did not end there. A month later you found out you were pregnant. Karma’s a bitch. Jay was the first person you told.

“You’re joking.” He looked at you shocked as you both stood in the break room.

“Believe me I wish I was.” You looked helplessly at him.

“Okay well what are you going to do?” He eventually asked after the shock wore off some.

“I’m gonna go apartment hunting this week. I swear I’ll be out soon.” You answered.

“What? No that’s not what I meant. I meant about the douchebag of the equation.” He explained.

“I mean I have to tell him.” You answered.

“What? No you don’t. You shouldn’t.” He countered.

“It’s his too Jay.” You tried to reason.

“[Y/N], if you go over there it’s going to end one of two ways. He somehow manipulates you into forgiving him or he hurts you worse than he already has.” He argued.

“So what am I supposed to do? Just lie to my kid when they’re old enough to ask questions?” You said.

“When did this even happen? You’ve been broken up for over a mon-“ He started to ask, but Adam interrupted your conversation peeking his head in.

“Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt,” he looked between you two suspiciously, “but we got a ping on Rudder’s phone.” He informed you guys as you followed him out the door.

You and Jay had been partners for 3 years. He was very standoffish when you first started. You were informed through the grapevine his last partner had left him and moved to New York. So, he had every right to be skeptical, but your relationship eventually progressed and you had a dynamic unlike any other. However, you were also like any other girl that came into contact with the younger Halstead, taken back by his good looks and determined yet soft nature, but he was just your partner. You worked together. You couldn’t get involved, and he was going through a rough break up. It wasn’t fair to try anything. Unfortunately, that didn’t lessen your attraction any further and it only got worse as your relationship developed.

Jay had offered to let you move in with him after you had caught Jared. You planned on finding an apartment right away, but things kept getting in the way and Jay wasn’t trying to push you out the door. Walking into his apartment you laid your keys on the stand hanging up your purse and coat before walking further in to find Jay sitting on the couch watching TV. Turning to face you he sighed immediately getting up to hug you, no words needing to be spoken. The anger finally took over showing itself by the tears that began to soak Jay’s neck. Eventually you gathered yourself moving to sit by him on the couch.

“I should’ve listened to you.” You laughed attempting to wipe the tears off your face. A small smile appeared on Jay’s lips as he shook his head.

“No, you shouldn’t have. You were right. This baby deserves the best life ever, and it wouldn’t have been fair to them if you didn’t give him a choice.” He said, hand tickling your stomach, making it flip at his touch.

“I just wish he made the right one.” You admitted, laughing.

“You deserve better. I’ve been telling you that since day one. I hated seeing how he treated you, how he changed you. You’ve always been too good for him, and you deserve someone who gives you and this little peanut the world.” He replied.

“Why can’t it be you?” You said after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” He looked at you confused, eyebrows scrunched.

“Do you know how this happened?” You gestured to your stomach.

“Of course I know how it happened.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“No,” you shook your head adjusting yourself, “I mean do you know when this happened?” You reiterated.

“No. I didn’t want to pry.” He admitted.

“It was the night Hazel stayed over.” You explained, and guilt flushed over his face.

“[Y/N], I told you I was sorry about that. This is your apartment now too. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or feel like you couldn’t come home.” He started to apologize, making you laugh.

“No, Jay. I didn’t want to come home because I was jealous.” You said waiting for it to click.

“Jealous of what?” He looked even more confused making you frustrated.

“Oh my god Jay. Of you and her! Of you with her!” You huffed throwing your hands in the air. Taking a deep breath you shook your head, “I just didn’t want to come back and see her here, or god forbid hear her. When all I wanted was to be the one in your room.” You admitted getting nauseous at the thought of them together.

“I don’t know what to say.” He sighed after a few minutes of grappling within his own head.

“Oh god. I’m sorry I should’ve never said anything.” Your embarrassment took over, feeling your face turn red you moved to stand up and hurry out of the room, but he pulled you back down beside him, closer this time.

“No. Don’t be. It’s just...I wish it was as easy as that. Believe me I do..” He said, breath noticeably quickening at the thought.

“It can be.” You replied after a couple seconds of intense silence.

“[Y/N], we work together, we’re partners, you’re having someone else’s baby. There’s a lot of factors.” He explained, but you could tell he was trying to convince himself.

“Do you want this as bad as I do?” You asked gently, resting your hand on his, but he stayed quiet. “Just for one night. Can’t we just give into ourselves for one night?” You bargained your face inching closer with each thought, “if you don’t want this I promise I’ll go to bed now and we can never speak of this again.” You stopped a few inches from his face refusing to make the move. The decision was in his hands now. His eyes searched your face, breathing heavy, and you watched the moment his resolve gave away, throwing caution to the wind and groaning a quiet,

“[Y/N].” Before he closed the distance his lips meeting yours in an urgency you had never felt before.

You were woken up by a sharp pain in your stomach. Turning to roll on your back you collided with warm skin, belonging to someone who grunted pulling you closer with the arm wrapped around your waist. Remembering who it was you felt a small smile appear on your lips, but it was stolen away by another pain radiating from your abdomen. Wincing you gently lifted Jay’s arm attempting to slide out from under it, brain registering the wetness you felt between your legs. Jesus, you liked him and all, but you figured you could control yourself a little instead of waking up completely ready to go again. Shaking your head you slipped off the bed, the liquid between your legs growing, becoming a little too prominent with the accompanied pains. “Jay.” you croaked out voice hoarse, terror immediately coming to surface as the red came into view. He didn’t stir. “Jay!” You tried again bracing yourself against the bed as a dizziness started to swirl in your mind. At your insistence he grunted eyes slowly opening.

“[Y/N]?” He asked blinking and attempting to reach for where you lay minutes prior.

“Jay, somethings wrong.” You began to cry, panic obvious in your voice by the quivering, but trying not to scare him. You watched as his awareness finally clicked seconds later, sitting straight up in bed looking from the blood stained sheet to you. Another cramp hitting, this time making you fall to your knees just as Jay reached you, pulling you back up in his arms. Somehow throwing a shirt on in the process.

“Alright come on I got you. It’s alright baby. You’re okay.” He hurriedly helped you put shorts on as you had only been sporting his shirt from the night before. Cradling you in his arms, running down to his truck, and burning tire towards the hospital, lights and sirens echoing in the background while he weaved through traffic, pulling up to the doors of Chicago Med not too long after. Your head was shoved in his chest breathing through the pain. You felt lightheaded barely aware of all that was happening as you heard Jay yelling for a nurse before sitting you down in a wheelchair.

“I’m assuming you’re the father? Otherwise we can’t permit you-“ The nurse began to ask, even more panic taking over at the thought of being alone before you heard Jay answer with a simple,

“Yes.” After a few tests were done your suspicions were confirmed. You had lost the baby, and you didn’t know how to feel. Jay climbed into bed beside you pulling you into his chest letting the sobs soak his shirt while he rubbed you back, “I’m so sorry. I’m right here though, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. It’s all going to be okay.” He promised kissing your head, and if it wasn’t for the man holding you, you weren’t sure if you ever would’ve believed that.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @smclelli @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@justadreamxx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #Chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #tw: miscarriage #tw: pregnancy loss

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checkurwindow · 3 years

Text

i’m so scared

Book: Open Heart

Warnings: It’s a lot longer than my usual fic and much angstier, but hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen for light swearing.

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC

Word count: 5200+ I KNOW!! It’s the single longest piece of writing I’ve ever written.

Author’s note: I’m actually really proud of this fic so please reblog and let me know what you thought of it! Here’s my masterlist for more content! I wrote a sequel to this fic too!

One

That’s how old she was when her father left. Her mother knew that he was never going to stay, but that didn’t stop her from breaking down every night for 3 months when she thought her beloved daughter had fallen asleep, when instead she lay awake, wondering what could have happened to make her mother hide her sadness every day, only letting her walls come down when she thought nobody was watching.

She didn’t understand much beyond that, just knowing that her dear old dad had left for a pack of cigarettes and milk, but left behind only a stack of legal papers on the counter while her mother had gone off to work, desperate to give her little girl the best life she could.

Two

The number of people in her family. She and her mom, her mom and her. It was just the two of them, or at least that’s what her mother told her every time she asked. She was fine with that, she loved her mother with all her little heart. She didn’t need anybody else.

Her mom had found a job in Providence, a job that could support both of them, and an apartment that had a reasonable rent. She was scared at first, moving to a “big city”, but her mom assured her that it was a kingdom, and she was the princess.

Three

That was the number of bracelets she had gotten for her fifth birthday. She and her mom had been walking downtown, running some errands, when they walked past a jewelry store and saw the set of three bracelets in the store window.

She had asked her mom if she could have them, even resorting to using her best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to persuade her.

Her mom had told her that they were too expensive, and they didn’t have enough money to buy them. She was disappointed, sulking the rest of the way home.

3 weeks later, her mom returned to the jewelry store, spending almost a month's worth of her salary to buy that special set of bracelets for her daughter. She was beyond excited when she woke up on her birthday and saw that bright pink box next to her bed.

She started showing off those prized possessions of hers to all her friends at school. One was gold with a diamond charm, the other was silver with a ruby charm. The last was bronze with a deep sapphire charm. The bronze one was her favourite, even after Derek Reagan said it was ugly. She told Derek that he was ugly.

Four

That was the grade she was in when she met him.

It was a usual Monday, she was rushing through some unfinished homework when Mr Kingston, her teacher entered, accompanied by a boy who looked just a little taller than her.

Turns out it was a new student, transferring from another school that had just closed down. He was wearing a blue button-down, a big difference from the rest of the boys in her class whose t-shirts were either dinosaurs, or cars, or superheroes. He introduced himself as Ethan Jonah Ramsey while the rest of the class stared blankly at him, before returning to their own friends. Mr Kingston assigned him to the seat next to her.

“Hi, Eefen Jonah!” She waved excitedly at him as he sat down next to her.

“My name is Ethan, Jonah is my middle name,” he corrected.

She made a small ‘o’ with her mouth, thinking for a short while before responding, “I prefer Eef,” she smiled, making him blush slightly.

She took a container out of her bag, opening it to reveal large apple slices. She took one in each hand, careful not to let them slip as she turned back towards him, offering the slice in her left hand.

He slowly took one and smiled, “thanks,” he said when he noticed the set of sparkly jewelry on her wrist, “I like your bracelets.”

Five

That’s how many people were in her friend group by middle school.

First, there was Jackie Varma. She thought Jackie was a little mean when she first met her, she always picked fights with everyone. But she soon learned that she was only mean to people she didn’t like, and she even called Derek stupid when he was mean to her. She asked Jackie if she wanted to have lunch with her after that.

Next was Sienna Trinh. She was nice to everyone, and her first friend at school. She always shared her food, usually sweet treats, with everyone in class, even when Jackie was convinced they were poisonous, she never stopped radiating her positivity.

Bryce Lahela was a flirt. And rightfully so, as every girl in her class had a crush on him. Every girl except her. Bryce was convinced he knew the reason why, and voiced his opinion every chance he got, “She doesn’t have a crush on me because she’s in love with Ramsey, that’s the only reason.”

She would always blush when he said that, which was often seeing how he and Jackie bickered daily about it. Yes, she and Ethan had been best friends since fourth grade. Yet that was all they were. Best friends, never venturing out of that sacred zone.

And then there was Ramsey himself. He had gotten tall, very tall. He was easily the tallest of the group, while she was one of the shortest, barely taller than Sienna. He was a bit gangly and awkward, sometimes very quiet as well, but he was her best friend.

Six

That was the day of the month Ethan was born.

He was turning fifteen, and begged his dad for money instead of his usual books. His dad thought it was strange, as reading had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but waved it off as typical teenager behaviour.

A couple days before, she had lost her treasured bracelets. She had taken them off during art class, careful not to spill paint and ruined her favourite set of jewelry. She had rushed off after class because she wanted to get the cafeteria pizza while it was still fresh and hot for all her friends, and accidentally left the bracelets behind. When she came back to get them after lunch, however, they were gone. She cried for the first time in what felt like forever.

Ethan’s dad had done what he had asked of him, giving him cash for his birthday. Upon receiving his present, he rushed up to his room and took his box of savings out from the top of his closet, almost falling off the chair he was climbing to get them.

He hurriedly counted up all his money, adding to the amount he had been saving, ecstatic when he realised he had a little more than what he needed. He quickly ran out, wallet in hand, barely able to tell his dad that he was going out as he sprinted out the front door.

He finally made it to the jewelry store that, after much research, he knew carried the same set of bracelets as the ones his best friend had lost. The attendant asked what a young man like himself was doing buying such an expensive set of jewelry, teasing about if using all his hard-earned cash by doing extra chores was really worth it for a girl.

He smiled widely, heart racing from the sprint over, but nodded rapidly, forking over the money he had planned to use to buy a new set of books. When he got home, he put the shiny new bracelets in a box, doing his best to wrap them in bright red wrapping paper, her favourite colour.

At school the next day, he got in early and slipped the box into her desk drawer before she arrived.

“Eef,” that’s what she called him when something big was happening, “you won’t believe what I found!” she squealed to him after class.

She told him all about the bracelets she found at her desk, while he smiled and nodded, telling her he was happy for her. Jackie made eye contact with him and gave him a knowing look, his eyes darting around the room when he realised, but she didn’t say a word about it after that.

Seven

The number of med schools she applied to. They all applied to med schools.

She applied to Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton, Brown, NYU, and Johns Hopkins.

She was accepted to all of them, which was more than impressive. Her mother had never been prouder of her.

Ethan never told her, but he applied to the same schools as her, all seven. He got into all of them except Harvard, so hoped to every powerful being up beyond the night sky that she wouldn’t accept their invitation. He wasn’t ready to lose her, not yet, maybe not ever.

After spending countless coffee-fueled nights sorting through and weighing the pros and cons of each school, she finally decided on Johns Hopkins. Ethan did too, after he determined that they had the best professors there. At least, that’s what he told her when she asked how he decided.

Sienna, one of her closer friends in the group, was her shoulder to cry on if Ethan wasn’t around, which was rare but had happened a couple times throughout the years. Sienna decided to go to Princeton, along with her boyfriend, Wayne, or was it Dwayne? Nobody really knew as he never bothered to show up most of the time when they reluctantly invited him per Sienna’s request.

The rest of their friend group split up, each going to a different med school. They made a pact one drunken night the summer before they all headed out to med schools all across the country.

They promised to meet up every chance they could, even if it meant driving in the middle of the night through storm and snow. Jackie insisted it was way too cheesy when Sienna half sobbed, half stated it while they sat on Bryce’s rooftop, bottles of alcohol and snacks surrounding them, but in the end, the tears made Jackie agree.

Ethan helped her pack for college, something she assured him she could easily do herself but he insisted anyway. He helped move her things into her dorm, something he hadn’t yet done for himself but he didn’t care. They met her roommate, Grace Young, who upon first seeing them, mistakenly assumed they were dating. She quickly corrected Grace, properly introducing Ethan as her best friend.

Eight

That’s the number of years it took for Ethan to realise he was in love with her.

Why it had taken him so long, he didn’t have a single clue. He should’ve realised it sooner, but now he couldn’t not see it. Ethan was completely sure he was mind-blowingly in love with her.

Why hadn’t he noticed the first day he met her, when she immediately shared her apple slices with him, making him feel welcome and accepted unlike most of the class. Sure, he had figured out long ago that she was beautiful, but he never thought it was love.

Why hadn’t he noticed it all through middle school, when Bryce mercilessly teased the both of them about it. “Damn,” he thought, “I hate it when Bryce is right.”

And why had he not realised it in high school, when he spent all his savings he earned over countless summers to replace the bracelets that she lost? When instead of bullying her, Derek Reagan started flirting with her, which made Ethan so angry when he saw it happen, but ecstatic when she turned him down in front of the whole school, citing all the times he had bullied and picked on her. Friends don’t do that for each other. But she was more than just a friend, wasn’t she?

Ethan should’ve known when he followed her 370 miles away from their hometown just to be at the same med school as her. Sure, it was a great school, but that wasn’t the reason he was there. He was there for her. You don’t just do that for a friend you like or even have a crush on. No, he loved her.

It was quite ridiculous, really. How had she gotten him wrapped around her finger, and without him even realising for so many years? Ethan knew he was helpless to her charms, he would do anything she wanted him to do, he would’ve followed her to the ends of the earth if she had asked.

But did she know? That was the thought that circled around his head during sleepless nights as he tossed and turned in his bed. Did she know how weak she made him? How helpless he was when it came to anything that had to do with her?

He quickly decided that she couldn’t have known. She wouldn’t have let him spend all his birthday money and savings on her, let him follow her to med school, let him torture himself all these years if she knew it was all for her.

Nine

That’s how many apartment listings she had to choose from.

She sat in the coffee shop near the hospital reading over the listings. Now that they had started their residency, Grace had been matched with another hospital and moved in with fellow interns there.

This one was too expensive, that one would be too loud. She had no idea which one to choose. And to add to her troubles, she had no roommate. There was no way she could find a reasonable place in downtown Boston without a roommate, it was impossible.

That’s when Ethan walked through the door, his hair combed to perfection as usual.

“Ethan, thank god you’re here. Come help me pick out an apartment,” she pleaded, showing him pictures of all the listings.

He shrugged his jacket off as he sat down next to her, inhaling the comforting scent of hers he had grown to love over all these years that wafted through the air.

“This one looks nice,” he pointed to one of the listings, “barely a block away from the hospital, great lighting, tons of restaurants around, and the rent would be affordable for two people.”

“I know, it’s perfect but I can’t afford it,” Ethan frowned and looked up at her in confusion.

She let out a defeated sigh, “I haven’t found a roommate yet, and there’s no way I can afford that place all on my own,” she admitted and turned back to the other listings in search of a cheaper place, the frown still evident on her face.

“I’ll be your roommate,” he mentally cursed himself the second those words escaped from his mouth. He had just offered to be roommates with his best friend that he just happened to be hopelessly in love with. What could possibly go wrong?

His regrets immediately ceased to exist when her face lit up, full of delight. She threw her arms around him gratefully, hugging him as tightly as she could, and he knew every single moment would be worth it for her, “thank you so much, Eef!”

Ten

That’s the number of times he had tried to tell her.

The first time was when she came home after a bad day. It was pouring rain outside, and she had walked in completely drenched and in a mess of tears. After many attempts on Ethan’s part to try to get her to tell him what was wrong, he eventually gave up and stuck to comforting her instead. As she cried, soaking his clothes with not only her tears but the rain her clothes and hair had absorbed on the way in, he wanted nothing more than to tell her how much he loved her.

Then there was the time she convinced him to bake a cake together on their day off. He had accidentally gotten cake batter on her nose, and she laughed as she smeared some of it across his face, which resulted in a war using their leftover ingredients still on the counter. He never thought she was more beautiful than she was right there, and was tempted to risk it all. But he never did.

The third time was over the phone, he had gone home but she was still at Edenbrook, filling in patient charts when he received a call from her.

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice was momentarily shaky on the other end, it made his heart rate go up significantly, “I just wanted to tell you...hi,” was what she said after a long pause.

“You called just to say hi?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up before he had a chance to respond.

The next time was when they watched a movie. “Maybe a romantic movie would help,” he thought to himself as he loaded up The Fault In Our Stars. He was wrong. The movie only made her cry again, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her then.

The next time, he was determined to finally do it. He stopped by the florist on the way home, picking up a bouquet of her favourite flowers, bougainvilleas. He even rehearsed the exact words he was going to say when he professed his love to her while walking back. But he opened the door only to be met with her wearing a stunning blue sundress that left him was speechless. Only she had that effect on him.

The sixth time was in the middle of the night, around 1 am. Ethan couldn’t sleep, his head was clouded with thoughts of her and her alone. He convinced himself he was going to tell her. Yes, he was going to march into her room and tell her. He got up to tell her, but instead heard her throwing up when he approached the door. He spent the rest of the night comforting her and making sure she was okay.

Then he decided he couldn’t do it himself. He called up Sienna, who had long since figured out who Ethan was in love with. Sienna actually laughed when he had asked her to tell her on his behalf. She thought it was a joke. When she realised he was being serious, her lighthearted behavior dissolved, instead, she firmly told him that he had to do it himself, and promptly hung up the phone.

Eighth time’s the charm, right? Wrong. He thought of writing a letter, “it’s easier this way,” he thought. All he had to do was write his feelings down on a piece of paper and hand her the letter, easy. He then realised that it was far too impersonal. He knew her, hell, he spent more than half his life with her. And that’s why he knew that if he ever did it, she’d want to hear it in person from him directly.

Then he tried to tell her as they walked back from Edenbrook after a long shift. It was a typical Boston day, and Ethan decided there was no time like the present to tell her. He had every intention to tell her, he really did. But she received an important phone call that she needed to take just as he was about to open his mouth.

Finally, he decided that he had had enough. He wasn’t going to let anything come between his plans to tell her the truth for a second longer than he needed to. He planned a delightful picnic for the both of them. They headed to a nearby park that she loved on a cool but sunny day, it was a perfect day. And that was what stopped him from telling her this time.

They were having so much fun, what if by telling her the truth, he ruined the day. What if he ruined their entire friendship, years worth of time spent together wasted and down the drain all because he was so selfish? What if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, and that was the last good memory of her that he had? He gave up trying to tell her after that.

Eleven

That’s how many times she tried to tell him.

The first time was immediately after she found out. It was a shocking discovery, and she was lost as to what to do with the new information. It didn’t exactly help that it had been an awful day. On her way back to the apartment, it started to rain heavily. A terrible end to a terrible day, really. When she finally made it indoors, she instantly fell into his arms. She knew she could’ve told him there, but she didn’t.

She decided that they needed to be doing something more fun and lighthearted, so she suggested baking, and was surprised when he actually agreed. But seeing him there, covered in cake batter, who knows how much flour, and grinning at her, she wanted to keep this memory.

After feeling guilty for not telling him that day, she called him while taking a break from charts.

“Hey, Ethan,” she said, building herself up to finally tell him.

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice quivered, the nerves building up, “I just wanted to tell you,” she decided it was too much, she’d tell him another time, “...hi.”

‘You called just to say hi?” she heard his laugh on the other end.

She closed her eyes tightly, embarrassed, “yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up as quickly as she could.

The next time she tried to tell him was during movie night, but the bastard just had to pick The Fault In Our Stars. Since when did Ethan even start voluntarily watching romantic movies anyway? And he couldn’t have picked any other movie. She spent a good part of the rest of the night cursing the tears that choked back all the words she wanted to say.

Then she was going to tell him when he got back to the apartment. She spent so long in the bathroom practicing what she was going to say to him in the mirror. Time and time again, pacing in her favourite blue sundress to calm her nerves as she recited the words back to herself. But then he showed up with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He had always been so sweet like that to her. She really didn’t deserve him, and she hated herself for not telling her then.

At 1 in the morning, she felt sick to her stomach, and rushed into her bathroom. She threw up all of her dinner from hours before, no doubt looking awful while doing so. Then Ethan showed up and spent the entire night comforting her. She knew she could’ve ended her own torture right then and there, and she was planning to. Up until she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Maybe she didn’t have to be the one to tell him? And so she drove an hour back to Providence to see her mom, seeking advice. There must’ve been a better way to tell him, a way that wouldn’t be putting her through so much agony. Her mom only hugged her tightly. She told her that she was the only one who could make the decision to tell him and wished her the best of luck.

She sat at her desk and attempted to write a letter, but how could you write someone a letter to tell them about such a subject? There was no way words on a piece of paper could explain how she felt. It wasn’t fair to Ethan, it had to be done in person.

And then there was the time they were walking back home from the hospital. She would’ve told him there, she should’ve told him there, but she didn’t. Instead, she received a phone call. She knew exactly what the call would be about even before she tapped the ‘answer’ icon.

The next was the time he set up a picnic for the both of them. It was a perfect day, it was the perfect time to tell him, but that was the moment she realised she loved him. She just wasn’t willing to stain the moment she realised she loved her best friend with her horrible news.

Finally, there was the time she actually told him the truth. It was cold, but she asked him to go up to the rooftop with her. He agreed, and they made their way up to the empty rooftop garden. They stood in silence as they looked out at the city around them, the city lights glittering like diamonds in the dark, or shooting stars in the night sky. Ethan tried to tell her first.

“I love—”

“Ethan, I’m dying.”

Twelve

That’s how many months are in a year. That’s how many inches are in a foot. That’s how many signs there are in the zodiac. That’s how many days of Christmas there are.

That wasn’t how many malignant tumours she had, Ethan refused to believe it.

Well, as he soon learned, that there were most likely more than 12 tumours in the person he grew up with, the person he loves, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the person who had much less than a lifetime to live. There were twelve tumours over a month ago, and she hadn’t told him.

He was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t know his best friend had stage 4 pancreatic cancer. It was needless to say he felt like absolute shit. She had end-stage cancer and he, a doctor, couldn’t do a single fucking thing about it.

He waited until he was out of her sight before he let all his emotions out, he asked her if she could go back in the apartment and leave him on the roof to process what had happened, she did.

He knew all about pancreatic cancer, he knew that the symptoms usually don’t show up until it was too late, he knew that it would’ve already spread all across her body. Yet, it didn’t stop him from completely breaking down after she went back down.

He sobbed, he sobbed until all the tears were gone, then he shouted, he shouted at the night sky, shouting at every being up there, screaming at them, asking how they could possibly curse the most perfect person in the world with an untreatable tumour.

Once he was done, once his tear ducts were dry and his throat was hoarse, he returned to the apartment, his eyes red and his throat sore. He quietly crept into her room, seeing those teary eyes of hers that broke his heart, that made every cell in his body hurt and scream. He wordlessly climbed into her bed and wrapped his arms around her. That was how they spent the rest of the night, him silently holding her in his arms, not willing to ever let go.

She fell asleep fast, she was tired, she was always tired nowadays. He was the opposite, his mind racing. He spent the entire night hating himself for not realising sooner, for missing all the clues. All the clues that were right in front of his face this whole time.

He remembered the first time he tried to tell her when she came home upset, was that when she learned the news? He thought about how she reacted to the movie they watched, he finally realised why she was crying so much more. Then there was the night she threw up, he cursed himself for missing that. It had been so obvious. But he hated himself the most for not spending all his time with her when he had the chance.

Now as he sat in the hospital room, his head in his hands as she slept soundly, all he could do was wait. Wait for the cancer to take her from her friends, her family, from him. That’s all he could do now, wait. Ethan had been in the hospital for a week now, she’d wanted to be at Edenbrook so that he could see her during his breaks, but he hadn’t worked since the day he found out.

He only went back to their apartment to take a shower every now and then, and even then he sprinted to and fro. They didn’t know when her time would be up, it could be hours, days, weeks, or even months. And he had to be around when she ran out of time, he would hate himself even more if he wasn’t.

He had called all of their friends, and they all took turns showing up at her room to see her. Bryce showed up with a gigantic stuffed teddy bear that didn’t fail to make her laugh. Jackie came with a million stories about her horrible intern, attendings, and patients alike. Sienna came in everyday bearing fresh home-cooked food for her.

His dad and her mom showed up most days too, providing words of encouragement for not only her, but him as well. They both figured out one way or another how he felt about her, and they knew how hard it was for him.

Ethan was always at the hospital, but limited the time he spent in her room. He couldn’t stand being at her bedside, watching her groan and moan in pain as he was completely fine. Everything just felt too real for him.

“Doctor Ramsey, she’s asking for you,” a nurse said. He looked up and nodded. His feet felt heavy, like they were made of bricks as he approached her room. He pushed the door open, and his heart dropped at the sight before him.

She was staring back at him, her eyes hadn’t changed a single bit. The rest of her didn’t share the same fate as her eyes. She was thinner, her face pale and gaunt, she looked exhausted. The hospital gown looked as if it was wearing her, and not the other way around. And despite all of that, she was still beautiful in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said in a whispered tone.

He pressed his lips together, choking back the tears that were beginning to form. He couldn’t handle this.

“You look awful,” she teased, which earned a pitiful laugh from him as he wiped the sides of his eyes where tears were moments away from falling.

She moved to one side of the hospital bed to make room for him. He hesitated for a moment, afraid that he would hurt her some way, but he eventually laid down beside her. Her frail frame clung to him, and he felt the dreadfully familiar feeling of her tears staining his shirt.

“I’m so scared, Eef,” her use of the enchanting nickname she gave him that he wholeheartedly loved made the tears fall from his eyes as he closed them tightly, holding back a sob.

He didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t find the right words, so he just hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her and pressed his lips against her forehead. After all, what were you supposed to say to someone whose life you would trade your own with when they’re dying?

Was he supposed to lie and say “everything’s going to be okay”? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her any longer after all the wasted time he spent lying about his true feelings. No, he would hold her. He would hold her and love her until he couldn’t love her anymore.

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mssleepy876b · 3 years

Text

Family Ties Chapter 5

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 1734

Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 5

Brielle’s father and Hank continued their discussion as the rest of Hank’s unit helped Brielle relax. “Damn it, Hank. It’s Brie. Why the hell didn’t you call me before? She’s been with your unit for hours.” He said sitting down on the couch in Hank’s office taking his head in his hands.

Hank moved to sit near him. “Jack, I didn’t know she was your Brie until I reached out to you. We didn’t have her name or address until about 8 this morning. Then I still didn’t want to assume until I saw her face to face and saw Alice looking back at me. I wasn’t with her when she cleared out of DiLeone’s place. Two of my detectives were. They helped her clear out photos, clothes she wanted, jewelry, and documents. They were looking over her documents in the last 20 minutes to see if they could find a way to get her on her feet and support herself without him. He was a leech. Her checks from the Center went to his accounts. Her cards, documents, and ID were all in his safe. He had his guys following her everywhere. She was never alone. Bet she never got to talk to you without him, did she?”

“I didn’t see it, Hank. I should have. I feel like I failed her. I should have gotten her out before he put his hands on her.” Jack said shaking his head.

Hank put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Trust me, Jack. I’ve been there. I have lost Camille, then Justin, and Erin moved to New York. My team and I will not let anything happen to Brie now that she is with us. She is family now. Michael is already in lockup. We are processing the paperwork for her formal statement; we have the medical documentation from Med. He is not going to see the streets for a while. Plus, I’ve been thinking, we have an opening here for a civilian administrative assistant. Her skills fit that bill plus who knows what else she can help with. It would make my team happy; Halstead seems to have taken her under his wing. It would let her rebuild her life on her own in Chicago and you would know someone was watching out for her.” Hank said.

“I won’t let her feel forced into anything, Hank. It has to be her choice. If this is it, I know she will be safe. You and Halstead have reputations for being out for blood if they hurt anyone close to you according to my old contacts.” Jack said.

“I promise we will let her decide. Dr. Choi warned me as did Halstead she shows signs of possible PTSD, so we are being cautious. She has built a trust with Halstead and Upton. The other girls just met her. We will keep her safe, Jack, I swear it. You know how protective of family I get.” Hank said. “Do you want to try to see her?” he asked standing.

Jack nodded and they left the office. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa were talking to Brie making her feel comfortable and secure. They entered and saw the girls together. Brie was partially smiling. Brie’s eyes met her father’s and she paled slightly. “Dad?” she whispered.

“Hiya, Princess.” He said as Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa all turned to see him and Hank at the door.

Brie stood and went to her father who met her halfway and pulled her into a hug. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa quietly slid out as Brie and her dad reunited. He helped her sit on the couch. “What did the Doctors at Med say, Brie?” he asked her as he held her hand.

“Dr. Choi said I was lucky. Nothing major other than bruising. It could have been so much worse, Dad. I swear he had never hit me before, Dad. He had yelled, thrown things, but never put his hands on me until last night. I ran once I could. Found my way here. I guess Detective Halstead saw me first. He made me feel safe. He has helped me with the dreams and memories too. It is so scary, Dad.” She said leaning against his shoulder.

“I’m so grateful that you are safe, Brie. When I went to the house and couldn’t find you or your pictures, or your personal stuff in your sitting room, I was scared out of my wits. Michael wouldn’t answer my calls. I knew you weren’t at work because I had gone there before the house. I had no clue where you were, but I knew something was up when I saw your engagement ring was sitting on the table with your house keys.” He said holding her closer.

They sat together for a few moments before Jack spoke up. “It must be luck that you ended up here with Voight’s unit. He and I worked together years ago. I knew him back when he met his late wife Camille. They were great friends of your mom’s and mine. We had lost touch after Camille’s passing due to cancer. I thought he had hidden you from me at first when I got here. That is why I was yelling. I’m sorry we upset you, Brie. But I must say that Detective has quite a backbone to stand up to both Hank and I for you. It was very surprising.” He said.

Brie smiled. “He seems like a good man, Dad. Everyone seems to respect him. Even at Med, they respected him and his brother there.” She said quietly.

Jack moved to look in Brie’s eyes. “You know you can’t go back to the Charity Center, right, Brie?”

“I do. I hate it. I loved that job. But it would be too easy for Michael to find me.” She said.

“Hank had an idea. They need an administrative assistant/office manager up here in Intelligence. He thought your skills might be a good fit and it would give you a chance to get back on your feet in a place where you feel safe around people you know.” Jack said.

“But where will I stay, Dad? I can’t come to you and mom. He will look there first. I can’t risk you getting harmed. I don’t have any money right now. He took it all. Convinced me to let him handle it all.” Brie said with tears in her eyes.

“Let me talk to Hank. See what we can do temporarily for you until you can get funds on your own and Michael has been formally charged.” Jack said rubbing her arm as she pulled away from him. She nodded and watched as he stepped into Hank’s office next door.

Hank and Jack had Brie stay with Hank for a few days. It was nice for Hank to revisit the memories with Brielle and Jack. Alice came into town the next day to join them and helped Jack and Brielle as Brielle began to heal from her injuries. Hank smiled coming home that next day once Alice arrived. He missed the feel of friends in his house and Alice’s warmth reminded him of Camille. Alice was grateful to Hank and would ensure that they all had meals at night until they could find Brie a place to set up as her own and feel safe with.

Brielle spent a few sessions with Dr. Charles from Med who helped her move past her assault as well as the controlling behavior Michael had used to isolate her with. He helped her create a plan for rebuilding her life and moving past the memories. She started to feel more solid and stable in her life.

The intelligence unit had taken Brie under their wings and introduced her to the groups at Molly’s and widened her circle of friends she could get help from. She found them all warm and made her feel as if she was safe again. She began to search out a new life for herself and knew that her place seemed to be at the 21st with the intelligence unit.

Kim, Hailey, and Vanessa all took Brie under their wing and she quickly felt like part of the girls’ group which at times included the girls from 51’s 2ndshift and Med’s ED. Brie decided to take the position in Intelligence if Hank would allow it. She enjoyed this group of people who seemed to want to help her and let her create her own life while having her back if she needed them. Jay became a familiar face for Brielle and Brie found in him a kind person that she could respect and feel like a man that she would be proud to call a friend.

Hank and Trudy quickly got the paperwork set for her to take the job in Intelligence. Brie quickly had things organized and ready to go and at the Unit’s fingertips any time it was needed thanks to her skills from the Charity office. She also had managed to assist the unit with her accounting skills to track down how a payment had been made during a case. She had an apartment of her own that she was able to rent not far from Jay’s and was beginning to feel like her life was her own.

Only once had Brie heard from Angelo DiLeone. His message told her that Michael’s actions were not approved of and the family would not keep him from serving the sentence he had received. She felt a little more reassured since Angelo had never lied to her and had said more than once that she was someone he respected even if others didn’t.

Michael had yet to find her or even contact her. She still screened her phone calls as well as watched her surroundings for suspicious activity. Jay, Hank, and Hailey taught her skills to help her feel safer. Hailey had actually helped her learn self-defensive techniques that she felt would help in an emergency.

She had rebuilt her relationship with her parents only seeing them in Chicago when they chose to come once she had finished her recovery at Hank’s. They always met out in public and never at her apartment as she knew the time would come when Michael would be out of prison and she feared that he would only want revenge.

#jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines

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nade2308 · 3 years

Note

Whump drabbles — Separated for Mac & Jack ☺️

Hope this one is good ;)

Alina Chernyshevsky was a Russian scientist working at a lab in LA, on a scholarship who was kidnapped by a rogue crime group almost a week ago. The Phoenix was tasked with recovering her and capturing any of the members of the group they could find. It turned out that the son of a banker, the daughter of a businessman and the brother and sister, the kids of one of the most powerful Romanian crime groups had one thing in common. They wanted to get out from under the shadow that their parents put them in. So they formed their own union, and thanks to the ties Andrei Bogdan, their leader, had from his father's world, they quickly made their way up in the underground dark world. Climbing up the ladders, they did the odd jobs here and there, hits on important people for hire, and it was based on their combined knowledge of the finances, the system and the law, that they stayed undetected and under the radar for so long. Until Alina discovered some sample or another in the lab that was brought for testing and she made herself a target and was kidnapped in broad daylight.

When the search for her didn't yield results, the team stepped in to try and find her. And if their intel and the search that Riley did on the dark web was correct, they were on their way to rescue her.

Mac and Jack split up to cover more ground while Riley provided tech support from the van as a TAC team was securing the place.

It happened all of a sudden. Mac found Alina. She was locked in a room with a see-through door and there was someone inside the room with her. It looked a lot like Andrei and Mac had a split of the second to decide what to do before someone put a gun to his neck and punched the digits to the lock. The door opened with a whoosh, sliding to the left and Andrei approached Mac and whoever was pointing a gun at him.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Who are you and what are you doing on my premises?”

Mac stared at Andrei. At 6'2'' he was taller than Mac and bulkier, so he towered easily over him. But Mac held his ground and the guy's look. He wasn't going to give in to the fear.

“You must be here for our beautiful friend here, no? I doubt you got lost out here by yourself… Tell me, pretty boy, is there someone else with you here?”

Mac tried not to flinch at the pretty boy comment, but was unsuccessful.

Andrei noticed.

“Aww, don't tell me no one has called you pretty before… because you are. Now, where were we. Ah, our friend. I assume you are here for her?”

Mac still didn't say a word and watched with a bored look. At least he hoped it looked bored.

“I've been into business since before you were born, boy, so I suggest you start talking. Or I'll make you talk.”

The suggestive once over Andrei gave him made Mac feel nauseated. The indication of how exactly Andrei planned to make him talk…

“If you won't talk, I will continue talking with my friend Alina here. Sonja, take him to another holding cell.”

Those last words were spoken on Romanian and thanks to Mac learning a brief and short course in Romanian he was able to understand.

"Wait. Wait. I… I'm here to trade myself for her. Our government wants her. And they are willing to make the exchange. Me for her."

Mac could see Alina's surprise. It wasn't like she knew that he was bluffing, but if he could get her out… then maybe Jack was right behind him to help. Mac could do that. He could stall.

Andrei seemed to consider the trade and then he nodded and motioned for the guy… or rather the woman who was holding him at gunpoint, to grab Alina.

"Very well, you will get what you want. You in exchange for her. Now that she is out of our way… what are you offering in return?"

Mac gulped. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to get her out and then… then what?

Think, genius, think!

Where was Jack?

As if on cue there were sounds outside in the hall of flesh hitting flesh and Mac sighed in relief. But it was short lived because before he knew what was happening, Andrei was shoving a butterfly knife to his side.

"As much as I like to have fun with you, I'm sure you'll prove yourself quite useful…" Andrei let his gaze linger on Mac's body, driving the knife deeper, "I must go. La revedere, dragul meu."

In a flash, Andrei was gone and the door closed behind him. Mac realized what was going to happen when he saw Andrei use the same knife he stabbed him with, to jam the key code panel and thus effectively locking him inside.

He looked at the wound in his side, it was deep and already soaked the side of his shirt and jeans. Wearing white shirt didn't work well with the blood, and Mac knew Jack would panic when he saw it.

Mac pressed against the wound with both hands, as hard as he could. It stung and it hurt, making him yelp and twist in pain.

He heard footsteps and could see that Riley and Jack were coming to him.

Riley was the one who saw him first and she couldn't hold the gasp that escaped her lips. That in turn alerted Jack who was staring at the ruined panel. And then Jack saw him.

…

There were so many times Jack got scared for his life early into getting in the Army and then the CIA. But as time went by and he saw close combat, came in touch with death and cheated it, he became sort of immune to all the talk about mortality and death and most of all fear. He made peace with himself that at one point he'd die, sooner rather than later. But that didn't make it any easier when he acquired the kids. He was in a desperate need to stay alive. He wanted to be there for them, and dying would defy that purpose.

Right now the bone deep fear he felt was not for himself, but for Mac, who was bleeding from somewhere in the general direction of his left side. If Jack had to guess, it was from a stab wound.

Currently he stared daggers at the little knife standing out of the ruined panel. Mac was locked in. And Jack didn't know how to get in.

"Jack…" Mac gasped then and Jack's attention got diverted to Mac.

"Hey, Mac."

"I'm sorry…"

"What are you sorry for?"

"For getting stabbed."

Jack felt a stab of fear go through his heart at those words.

"Oh kiddo, it's okay. Not your fault. We'll get you out."

Jack could see that Mac wasn't convinced of it, but Jack had to make sure Mac didn't lose hope. They would find a way out.

Jack already checked the door and while it looked like it was made of glass, Jack had seen enough to know it was reinforced, and he didn't want to risk putting a hole in Mac while trying to shoot at the glass.

The panel was jammed, and even if Jack pulled the knife out, the circuit board was shot to hell. At least, Jack thought so.

Riley was typing on her laptop furiously fast and Jack could see that she was just as worried for Mac as Jack was. With the corner of his eye, Jack noticed that Mac was now sitting on the floor, head leaned against the glass door. The shirt was soaked now and Jack wanted to scream.

"Hey, Mac, talk to me buddy? How is it looking?"

"I'll live. I hope."

Jack cringed at the sound of those words, but Mac wasn't far off how it looked, so for him to say that… Jack figured that it must feel even worse than it looked.

"It's going to be okay. We're working on getting you out. Ri?"

"I can't hack this Jack. I am trying to access it remotely, but the knife must have hit the main motherboard. Sorry."

Riley sounded dejected, but Jack refused to give up.

"How long till we get a team to get those guys into custody?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Get me the closest hospital and tell Matty to clear things with them. We need them to have someone on standby for when we get Mac out."

"Jack…"

"Yes, buddy."

"It hurts…"

Jack hated to see how Mac looked even paler than he was. What he hated even more was that greyish tint his skin was getting. They really had to get him out of there.

"Look at me, bud. Mac?"

Mac took a few seconds too long to look at Jack and Jack did the first thing his heart told him to. He put his palm up against the glass, and waited until Mac got his palm mimicking Jack's.

"I know I'm not there with you, but I'm here, boss. I'm here. I ain't goin' anywhere until you get out of there, okay?"

Mac nodded, getting weaker.

Jack took a look around the room and except for two chairs and some ropes that were lying haphazardly Mac was the only thing or person inside. He was out of commission for the time being. Until something came to Jack.

"Hey, Mac?"

"Mhm?"

"Remember when Patty locked you in the interrogation room for your own safety. When Murdoc was hired to take you out?"

"I do."

"You think we can try and do the same thing here? With the code and the wires?"

Jack could see Mac lifting his head slowly. He had both his hands pressed against the wound now and Jack was left staring at the bloody imprint where Mac's hand was before. But Mac seemed to perk up at the mention of a possible plan. Nevermind how far-fetched it sounded or how it may not even work… Jack was desperate enough to try.

"I… I don't know if there's enough circuit connected to the wires… To the wires."

Mac sounded winded, and that last part was whispered before he said it louder, and that was all the motivation Jack needed to go through with this plan.

"It's worth a try. Did you see the combination on your way in?"

Mac nodded and as Jack worked around in trying to locate the wires and pry the cables off of the secured posts, Mac did that on his end as well. Thankfully they didn't take his SAK or paperclips, so with a little bit of a push, they both started working on the wires.

When five minutes later the door opened with a whoosh and Jack rushed to get to Mac, it was all the relief he could feel before he had an armful of his kid, unconscious.

Jack looked up and pleaded for one more miracle.

…

Mac slowly came to the beeping of monitors and the standard hospital smell of disinfectant, meds and industrial bleach cleaner. Not to mention the scratchy gown and the crinkle of the pillow under his head.

He slowly raised his hand that wasn't connected to an IV to touch his face and found he had a nasal cannula attached. There was something warm around his other hand and with a little bit of effort he turned his head and found Jack holding his hand, and sleeping with his head propped on his forearm.

Mac was too tired to keep his eyes open so he gently squeezed Jack's hand and went back to sleep.

The next few times he woke up were a mix of doctors and nurses asking him questions, his vitals being taken, and after the third time he actually managed to stay awake for longer, they decided to transfer him to a regular room.

Jack was there every step of the way, fussing over him, adjusting the pillows just as Mac wanted them, pulling the blanket higher, and generally just being a fussy parent.

Mac took it because he knew how worried Jack was and Mac secretly loved when Jack fussed over him.

Once the doctor left the room, Jack took his usual place at Mac's bedside and Mac relaxed more in the fluffed up pillows.

"Hey, it's good to have you back, sleepy head."

"It's good to be back." Mac grinned.

"Oh, they've got you on the good drugs, huh? You are grinning."

"Maybe I'm just a little bit high."

"Only maybe a little?"

Mac burst in a fit of giggles and it took him a while to get himself under control.

"You scared me, kid. Don't do this to me again, okay?"

Mac solemnly nodded, fully knowing he'd do it again. But it was all he could offer to Jack now. And it was enough for them both.

#100 drabble challenge #drabble #writing #my writing #my fic #fan fic #prompt number 98 #separated #stabbing #blood #Mac whump #angus macgyver #jack dalton #macgyver #macgyver 2016

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Note

It's time for Pooja and Ethan to play round two of our favorite game ;)

Here we go!

For Both

What’s the most embarrassing childhood story you know about your spouse?

What did they want to be when they were younger?

What was your spouse's favorite band in high school?

Describe your spouse in high school using memes or/and gifs only.

How old was your spouse when they had their first kiss? Who was it with?

If you two were the same age and had met in college, how would you have met? Would you have liked each other? Dated? Eventually married?

Which of your spouse's friends is the most attractive?

Who was your spouse's hero when they were growing up?

Can you name all your spouse’s exes before you?

Bree, thank you so much for these! I loved answering them (and got a little carried away, hehe😅)! But seriously, thank you and love you❤️!

1. What’s the most embarrassing childhood story you know about your spouse?

Pooja: (Evil Laughter)

Ethan: Anything except that Teddy Bear tale.

Pooja: Anything?

Ethan: Why does that scare me?

Pooja: Because I do have some good stories to share about you (winks)

Ethan: My God.

Pooja: This story is around the time when he was 10 or 11. This man was quite an aspiring chef when he was young, I must say. So, it was the first time he was going to make pancakes and he was super enthusiastic about it. He was like, "you just put the batter, flip them and tada!"

Ethan: That's not true.

Pooja: Keep convincing yourself, sweetheart (giggles)

The preparation was going really nice, he had the batter made perfectly, all ready to pour. And then he switched on the stove, placed the pan and poured the batter in it. In the goddamn cold pan.

Ethan: Ugh.

Pooja: And then when he realized that the pancake was taking much longer than it should to get prepared, he put it on high flame and went to drink water. Safe to say, by the time he returned, the poor pancake was all black. 27 years after, he still cannot make them (chuckles)

Ethan: At least I try.

Pooja: (still chuckling) Definitely, I give you a point for that.

Ethan: Pooja's story is more about her trying to be a mini detective when she was 7.

Pooja: Oh no!

Ethan: Oh yes. It was her mother's art exhibition, and she, like the perfect kid she was, she walked all around the place with her mom. One lady, was very curiously gazing at one of her mom's paintings and then started taking pictures of them. Little Poo thought that she was going to carry out a heist and steal all the art pieces, so she took out her faux phone, went close to the lady, and said as loudly as she could, "Hello 911? One lady is trying to steal my mommy's art."

Pooja: She was being suspicious, I couldn't help it.

Ethan: Mini detective (chuckles)

2. What did they want to be when they were younger?

Pooja: Ethan actually wanted to be a chef until he pancake burnt up to ashes. After that, he wanted to be a detective.

Ethan: She wanted to be a private investigator too, later it was forensic investigator.

3. What was your spouse's favorite band in high school?

Pooja: Ethan's favorite was Snow Patrol, and I am glad to be married to a man with superior music taste.

Ethan: Pooja was not much of a band person. She was and still is, an old classic Bollywood music lover. But if I had to choose, Silk Road & Sanam, both Indian bands.

4. Describe your spouse in high school using memes or/and gifs only.

Pooja: Ah, yes, love this question.

Ethan: I will never understand this craze over gifs or memes or whatever they are called.

Pooja: Well, it's quite easy to guess, because I don't think there is much difference between this Ethan & that Ethan.

Ethan: Pooja has two very clearly distinguishable moods, one when she is hyper productive,

And the other when she is super lazy.

Pooja: I- You just described my entire life with those two.

Ethan: I just know you well, Rookie.

5. How old was your spouse when they had their first kiss? Who was it with?

Pooja: He was almost 15 when he kissed his Highschool sweetheart, Eva. He wanted to make his first kiss a special occasion, with a date and all, but it just happened and I don't think he regrets it.

Ethan: She wasn't my high school sweetheart, we just liked each other. And I do wish that my first kiss was you.

Pooja: Aww, stop (blushing)

Ethan: (After giving Poo a cheek kiss) Pooja's first kiss was actually an accident.

Pooja: And here I was relaxed thinking you won't bring it up after the embarrassing story question.

Ethan: (Whole-hearted chuckle) But technically it was your first kiss, accidental or not.

Pooja: (Totally embarrassed) Whatever.

Ethan: This was when she was 14. There was guy in her class who liked her, and wanted to date her. One day, Pooja slipped on a puddle of water, and he, trying to help, held her hand. The next moment, he was on the top of her, lips touching.

Pooja: (in a pleading tone) Please, Pleease, Stop. It's too embarrassing!

6. If you two were the same age and had met in college, how would you have met? Would you have liked each other? Dated? Eventually married?

Pooja: Oh, most definitely! Honestly, I feel like us falling in love is inevitable.

Ethan: I do not believe in soulmate stuff, but it's unimaginable for me to not fall in love with you.

Pooja: (lays her head on his shoulder as he gives her a kiss on the forehead) I think we would have met as opponents at a debate competition. We would be the only two yelling till the end of the competition, trying to prove the other wrong, until the judges got fed up and asked us to stop. Even after the competition, we would still meet in the corridors and tell the other how wrong they were.

Ethan: After sometime, we would become friends over shared interests, and after getting to know her, I would naturally start to fall for her.

Pooja: Me too! I would be totally like, "No matter how much he yells and how wrong he was, he is still cute. And not a totally bad guy." We would gradually become best friends.

Ethan: I would be the one to comfort her when she discovers her crush is in relationship with someone else.

Pooja: And you would realize that you are in love with me (gives him an elbow nudge)

Ethan: (softly smiling) Maybe I would. And I would imagine you falling in love with me not much later.

Pooja: And then we would be sitting alone, talking about random stuff. Suddenly we look at each other's eyes, and before we realize it, we are kissing.

Ethan: We would start dating afterwards, all through med school and residency. I would definitely want to marry her, have a future with her. I like to imagine that I would be lucky enough and she would agree to be mine.

Pooja: No matter which universe, I would always agree to marry you. Every time.

(They share a soft kiss, heart full of love for each other)

7. Which of your spouse's friends is the most attractive?

Ethan: All her friends are quite attractive, even if she the only one who catches my eye.

Pooja: I am assuming that you mean all my current friends and not ex-friends. Or Landry.

(Ethan's face scrunches up in disgust and Pooja's question is answered)

Pooja: For me, it's Tobias.

Ethan: (Rolls his eyes) Him out of everyone else? You could have said Mark.

Pooja: Mark is attractive, for sure, but he has become more of my brother over time. Also, if he got to know it, he would never let me live it down (chuckles)

Ethan: But still, Tobias...

Pooja: You are jealous, aren't you? (Winks)

Ethan: (Quickly straightens his face) No, Of course not. I don't get jealous Rookie, don't forget.

Pooja: Sure thing, E, sure thing.

8. Who was your spouse's hero when they were growing up?

Ethan: Pooja and I have similar opinions on this. We don't have a hero or an idol. Yes, there are quite a few people who have inspired us, but we both don't have any hero. For Pooja, it was her parents, especially her mother. Later on, it was Kadambini Bose, the first woman from India to practice medicine and (gives a striking smile, bubbling with happiness) of course, me.

Pooja: (Mimicking him) Of course, me.

Ethan: (in a teasing tone) Is it not true?

(Pooja just rolls her eyes)

Pooja: For Ethan, it was his father and Naveen.

Ethan: You too, Rookie.

Pooja: (With genuine curiosity) Me?

Ethan: You have inspired me to appreciate the little things in life and to love myself. You have played a big role in making me the man I am today.

Pooja: (Sniffles) Did you come here with an aim to make me cry, Dr Ramsey?

Ethan: (Smiling at her) It's the truth and you should know it.

9. Can you name all your spouse’s exes before you?

Ethan: This is probably the easiest question for me to answer. She has had three relationships in total. A lot of crushes, but very few actual relationships. One was during her middle school, I guess his name was Shresht. The second one was with her best friend, Ayaan and lasted all through med school. The last one, is Me.

Pooja: The ones I know are Eva and Rosalie in high school, Renia in med school and Harper during his residency and after. Ethan has a number of casual and serious relationships and honestly, I am not surprised. Everyone wants to be with a man like him (Winks)

Ethan: You are the only one who can have me.

Pooja: (Places a hand over her heart) I am honoured, Dr Ramsey. And lucky, so damn lucky.

Ethan: I am lucky one here, love. (Gives her a forehead kiss)

#ethan x pooja #asks answered🤍#newlywed questions with our favourite host Bree💕

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weathergirl8 · 3 years

Text

Master of Deflection - Part 4

Another update, I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for being incredibly supportive during this rough time as I try to navigate myself through this dark period. I am deeply grateful to have your support. I honestly don’t think I would still be here if it weren’t for your love and support.

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@gumnut-logic Virgil smothers for you!

@godsliltippy @misssquidtracy Gordon jokes and laying down the law for you!

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daylight narrowly filtered into his bedroom as Alan slowly opened his heavy eyelids. The eighteen-year-old groaned as consciousness greeted him, and it was anything but welcoming. He swallowed with a grimace as his throat not only felt dry but painfully scratchy like sandpaper. Alan coughed as a tickle erupted from him, which only added to his misery as the rattle settled deep into his chest. He threw his covers off him as he felt smothered by heat, sweat collecting across his brow.

Turning to look at his clock, he noticed a note and a fresh bottle of water sitting on his nightstand. Alan groaned as he forced his achy body to reach the note before him. Unfolding it, Alan saw it was from his father.

Alan,

I came in to check on you, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. Be sure to drink this water body to help stay hydrated. It’ll help with your headache. There is soup in the fridge waiting for you whenever you feel up to it. We can bring it up to you if you need us to. All you have to do is ask. I’ll come to check on you again in a few hours unless one of your brothers beats me to it. I laid another dose of your migraine meds on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to get up. If you think you need another dose, I’d prefer you contact Virgil so he can check on you. For your old man’s sake, humor me.

Love, Dad

Alan smiled and laid the note back on his nightstand as he collapsed back into his bed. Closing his eyes, the teen moaned as his body ached once more, his head still pounding. Sniffling, he pulled the last Kleenex out of the box on his nightstand and blew his stuffy nose. He sighed when he didn’t see another box in sight.

Pushing his tired body up, he closed his eyes against the dizziness that stole his balance. A chill slithered its way throughout his body, causing the teen to throw the covers back over him quickly.

Nope, not worth making the trip to the bathroom.

Alan collapsed back into the comfort of his bed once more with a whimper as he realized he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore. Illuminating the face of his watch, he sent a quick text to his brother Virgil hoping the medic was both awake and near the device as it was still early morning yet.

He turned to grab a drink of water as he fought against another tickle in his throat while throwing the blankets off him as he suddenly felt heat overwhelm him. Alan felt his watch buzzing but was unable to answer as the tickle turned into a deep cough. The teen pushed himself up and tried to clear his throat. Fiddling with the cap on the water bottle, Alan attempted to take a sip of water in hopes it would help. He swallowed at the wrong time, making him cough more as he choked on the water.

“Alan!” he heard his brother call and felt Virgil’s steady arms around him.

“I’m okay,” he wheezed. “I just swallowed wrong.”

“Geez, kid. First, you text me you need me, and then you don’t answer. Then I find you in here choking,” Virgil barked. “What’s going on?”

“Virgil, can you take it down a notch,” Alan’s hoarse voice pleaded, wincing as his head throbbed.

“Sorry, you just gave me a scare is all,” Virgil exhaled as he eyed his baby brother precariously. “Are you okay? Is it your head?”

Alan coughed, groaning once more. “Yes and a few other things.”

Virgil frowned. “I don’t like that cough. When did it start?” he asked as he felt his brother’s forehead. “Yikes, kiddo. You’ve got a fever cooking there. What other symptoms do you have?”

“Headache still around. The cough started last night, along with the body aches. My throat hurts. One minute I’m cold, the next I’m sweating. It’s annoying,” the blonde grumbled, as another cough erupted from him, causing a grimace. “Chest hurts a little when I cough too.”

Virgil frowned deeper. “Let’s get you down to the infirmary and see what kind of fever we’re dealing with. I think you might have caught a nasty chest cold, Allie.”

“Lucky me,” Alan sighed. “Can’t I just stay here, and you can do your magic?”

“No can do, Sprout. I want to do a full-body check. If everything checks out, I’ll send you back here to isolate and rest. Deal?”

“Fiiine,” Alan whined and climbed out of bed slowly. As he stood, Alan felt his world tilt.

“Whoa!” Virgil exclaimed as he caught Alan around the waist, preventing the teen from falling. “Dizziness another symptom?”

“Yea,” Alan mumbled as he held onto his older brother.

“You okay?” Virgil worried as he continued to hold most of Alan’s weight.

“Peachy. Did you catch that bus that hit me?”

Virgil chuckled. “Afraid not, Al. Next time I’ll be sure to ask for license and registration. C’mon, let’s get you taken care of.”

-TB-

“I should’ve noticed this before the mission last night. I woke him up before the klaxon went off and something seemed off,” Scott cursed, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

Word had quickly spread across the villa that the youngest Tracy was sick. Virgil had kicked them out until he was finished examining the youngest Tracy.

“Alan is the master of deflection, Scott. He only lets us see what he wants us to see. Outside of the headache and general shock from that jerk Captain, he seemed fine,” Gordon said from his spot on the floor. “Besides, even you big brother can’t stop a cold from infecting one of us.”

“I could’ve stopped him from getting drenched in those freezing waters last night. Stopped him from being held by that Captain.”

“Don’t even go there,” Gordon said, looking at his oldest brother pointedly. “I’ve already had this conversation with Virgil. None of you are to blame. It happened, we dealt with it, and Alan is fine.”

“What did Virgil say to you?” Scott asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s fine,” Gordon reassured.

“I highly doubt that,” Scott scoffed. “Either way, I should’ve benched Alan last night.”

“You stop the kid when his mind is set on something?” Gordon mused. “How well has that worked out for you in the past?”

Scott glared at his younger brother.

“Okay, you two,” Virgil interrupted as the automatic infirmary doors opened. “You can come in.”

Scott didn’t waste a second as he entered the sterile room. Approaching Alan’s bed, he nodded at Jeff, who had stayed in the room. “Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Alan groaned.

“Don’t worry, Allie,” Gordon chirped from beside Jeff. “You’ll be good as new before you even know it.”

“What’s the diagnosis?” Scott asked, looking to Virgil on his left. The brunette frowned as Alan was overcome with a coughing fit.

“Something viral,” Virgil said. “Looks like a nasty chest cold taking him for a ride.”

“You’ll be fine in a few days,” Jeff smiled, running a gentle hand through Alan’s unruly mop of hair that desperately needed a haircut.

“I hope so,” Alan croaked as he swallowed, the action irritating his throat. He closed his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit me.

“Tired?” Scott asked, rubbing Alan’s arm.

“Yea…” Alan replied, opening his eyes.

“You can go back to your room, Sprout. I don’t see any reason to keep you in here for the moment. I already gave you some Tylenol to help with your symptoms,” Virgil said.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a bit? I’m too tired to move,” Alan moaned with a sniffle.

“Sure,” Virgil smirked.

“Better mark that one on the calendar, guys,” Gordon chuckled. “How high is that fever?” he asked jokingly as he tried to reach around their father.

“Shut it, Fishface,” Virgil warned. “We don’t question good things!”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Alan coughed as he reached for a Kleenex to blow his nose.

“Alright, c’mon. Let your brother get some rest,” Jeff said, as he watched Alan’s eyes close.

Virgil rested his hand lightly on Alan’s shoulder. “I’ll check on you in a little while, okay?”

“Mmm,” Alan mumbled, and he was out within seconds.

“He’s wiped,” Scott frowned as they each exited the infirmary.

“Rest is the best thing for him,” Jeff added as they headed toward the office. “I better go update John on the latest and let him know to pack up.”

“Pack up?” Scott asked, confused.

“Brains was already planning on heading up to Thunderbird 5 today with a few software updates to the ship. I saw him on my way to the infirmary this morning and let him know Alan was sick. He offered to take over for a few days so John could be here to help out,” Jeff explained. “I told him we’d be fine, but Brains insisted.”

“Johnny’s coming down for a few days? That should be fun,” Gordon smiled devilishly.

“Gordon,” Jeff cautioned.

“What?” the redhead asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I’m just excited to see the guy, that’s all, geesh.”

Virgil raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Sure, you were.”

“You have to convince John to leave first,” Scott said. “You know how he is about his rotations up there.”

“He’d be skipping out to see Alan,” Gordon added. “Just lead with that.”

-TB-

“So, the Sprout is sick?” John asked.

“Virgil said it looks to be mostly viral, but he’s keeping an eye on him,” Jeff reassured.

“Are you sure Brains wants to swap?” John asked apprehensively.

“Positive, John. He insisted. Plus, even if we don’t need the extra hand, it’ll be nice to have you five all earthbound again.”

John smiled. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? Even if the kid is sick.”

“Let’s just hope your brother will get over this bug quickly,” Jeff said, hopeful.

John studied his father’s features on the screen in front of him. “You don’t think he will? I thought Virgil said it was just viral.”

“He did,” Jeff exhaled. “Just a feeling, I guess. Your little brother tends to make me worry. Don’t mind me.”

John smirked in understanding. “I get it, Dad. So, how long do I have until Brains heads up here?”

“A couple of hours. Brains is loading Three as we speak with his equipment and extra supplies.”

“F.A.B. Tell Alan I hope he feels better, and I’ll see him tonight,” John acknowledged.

“Will do. See you soon, John,” Jeff smiled and disconnected the call. Leaning back in his desk chair, Jeff looked across the pictures on his desk. His eyes landed on an image of his sons at Alan’s graduation. A sense of nostalgia filled him as he remembered the day vividly. The patriarch tried to push his feelings of worry aside. After all, Alan was just sick with a cold. There was nothing to worry about.

TBC…

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #alan tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #jeff tracy #john tracy #writing #my writing #fanfic #part 4 #thunderfam

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

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HOSTIS, Chapter IV: Vetiti Fructus In, The Forbidden Fruit

Previous Chapter (III: Aemulatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): angst, drama, comedy

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“why am i always one step behind you?”

the black rim of the file glistens under the light hanging above the table on your left. translucent curtains were drawn behind and next the the oversized L-shaped couch you were laying on, legs stretched out and laptop sitting on a cushion on your lap.

the white table was strewn about with freshly printed sheets of data and research you managed to collect in the last week.

it was day seven of your ten days being mentored by doctor choi. the welcome-party was to be held at the end of the month, not the coming weekend.

something about the team that was responsible for handling newcomers not being able to host it because everybody was busy... something along those lines.

you didn’t bother noting the reason for a delayed party when the more pressing issue was getting that research file out to doctor kim before lee hyunjae did, and with better content.

throwing your head back against the pillows, your eyes naturally travel along the ceiling to the glass doors beyond the sofa, lining parallel to your position. the faint dots in the sky above takes you back to the first time you went stargazing with your father.

you remember your mother didn’t go because she was too busy.

the brain-juicing brightness off the laptop screen starts to yank on your attention, and you sigh at the sight of the word ‘oncology’. you already did the research online and whatever doctor kim had provided you, and it wasn’t too difficult a task to imagine that lucifer probably had the same type of content written down for that last section as well.

the frustration empties itself from your chest in the form of a loud groan while your fingers travel to your forehead.

the only thing left to do was this stupid oncology section, but how were you going to outdo lee hyunjae? sure, the rest of the research report would already be different; every pocket of free time you found in between your rounds with doctor choi, you were working on it. lee hyunjae was nowhere to be found either during those free periods, so what else would he be doing besides filling up the research report?

there was no more room for your own research and understanding of oncology to beat him. you were a neurologist after all, not an oncologist.

why did doctor kim even include the oncology section when he knew it was going to be difficult for me to get the information?

“arghhhhhhh--” your vision flashes white for a split second at the sudden sitting up, and you place your laptop down off the cushion. the rug covering the living room floor brings comfort to your toes as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair.

the painful, but satisfying memory of what happened pre-med school starts to roll in your head like an old VHS tape. the look in lucifer’s eyes when you had him against the locker, the only thing stopping you from driving a test tube down his throat were the long arms of law.

otherwise, it was sweet, almost diabetic, to watch him crumble and lose to you despite him being the fire starter.

but then again, you lost the first boy you ever loved because of lee hyunjae.

you couldn’t even convince yourself that you won.

the VHS tape in your head starts to burn and disintegrate into ashes while the nostalgic fire lights up in your chest, and the thought of losing to him four years ago made you want to get that oncology section done.

your inner ares picks up the file and flips to the last page where the word ‘oncology’ was printed in big, block letters at the top, followed by a bunch of details and information with hypothetical questions listed down.

the left brow on your face twitches and the muscle movement felt so eerily detached from you, a surge of unstoppable desire erupting inside you like mount vesuvius in 79 AD.

if you could possess a single power right now, it’ll be pyrokinesis.

the light shining into your office was so bright and warm, it would’ve been a crime not to talk a walk outside.

you would’ve, but not today.

lucifer’s office door opens and closes and you notice him heading off in the direction of the washroom, and your peripheral vision captures the oncology page of the hospital website on the computer screen.

after waiting it out for a safe period of time, you adjust the white coat to hide the color of your breast pocket (where the color differentiated which department you were in) and shoved the staff ID card down the back pocket of your jeans. you grab your file, phone in hand and the gears in your head start to churn out some smart excuse in case anybody were to question why you, a newcomer, looked like you were about to go for a meeting.

you head for the lift, fingers dancing around while you searched for the floor that connected the east wing over to the north.

you were already beginning to recite that excuse you built in your head in case doctor kim runs into you while you were walking through the north wing.

but zeus must’ve decided that one half of his sons deserved some love today, for you run into zero staff who didn’t pay attention to the absence of your staff ID around your neck.

your eyes follow the signs to the west wing, and that was where you started to notice people you really haven’t seen before.

the atmosphere changed once you got to the office level where all the oncology doctors would be, and most of the staff looked like they had been working without a wink of sleep.

your vision and attention start to dart around the hallways and doors, trying to look for a name tag on a door that said ‘shin ga hyun’ or something along the lines of oncology research archi--

there we go.

the words ‘research facility’ printed in block letters on the door of the room looked like the word ‘victory’ in another language, and you could only thank zeus for being so kind to you today.

the lab coat on you and the file case you were holding was enough to prove that you were a staff here, so even if shin ga hyun were to find out you were in her wing, there was nothing she could do about it besides get mad at you for “losing your way while searching for research content”.

the staff ID card slides out from your jeans so you could give yourself access to the dark room, and you notice the only view in was through the little window on the door itself.

once the door was open, your first step was to get it closed, regardless of whether your eyes could adjust to the orientation of the room.

relief floods through you, and you quickly wonder why you were so scared of something that wasn’t even illegal.

a small snort runs through your nose at the thought that you were scared, because frankly, there wasn’t much that could scare you anymore. maybe sometimes, just sometimes, the only thing that could scare you was yourself.

the scent of old paper and files fill your nostrils with every drawer and cabinet you opened, and you start searching for documents with information to grant you access to the oncology database, but not one single sheet of paper satiates your thirst to win.

your heart was already zipping back and forth in your chest, and the emptiness of the room only reminds you that anybody could come in anytime. your eyes look around the dimly lit room and you note the gap between the lockers behind the desk and the wall where you could run and hide in case someone came in--

“...yes, ga hyun, everything regarding the department’s database have been shifted to your office.”

the pupils on your eyeballs shrink in a second and something similar to a heart attack tears through your chest at the name. the footsteps halt right outside the door and you close the drawer with such calculated strength to prevent yourself from slamming it shut. your heels turn towards the corner and it takes you three incredibly large steps to get you there.

but everything happened so fast that you didn’t even register the fact that you got pulled into that little corner.

you would’ve rammed your knee so high up this man’s groin if he wasn’t going to scream like a fucking baby if you did.

“what the fuck are you doing here?!” he mouths angrily at you, ears red and cheeks flushed with fear when the door of the room clicks open.

“are you sure everything related to the database has been cleared out this room?” shin ga hyun sounded like she’d slit your throat and show no signs of remorse.

“what do you think?!” this silent conversation was going to warrant you a reason to punch him in the face later.

“yes, doctor shin,” the second voice sounded so dead and unbothered, you imagine it had to be someone of a more senior position than shin ga hyun for her to talk to the department head like that. “there may be a few stray sheets here and there but if they weren’t filed properly in the first place, then it’s highly likely they weren’t too important.”

“don’t fucking touch me!” his arm brushes against your shoulder and if you could scream, it would’ve deafened him.

“if you hadn’t come in, we wouldn’t be stuck in this shitty little gap!”

your eyes widen at his sudden stoppage of mouthing, and you could hear the little breaths coming out after every consonant.

“will you shut the fuck up?!”

“so you mean to tell me that there is a slight possibility that an important sheet of paper regarding our database is sitting around somewhere inside this room?”

“how can i shut up when i’m stuck in this godforsaken space with you?! i don’t even want to fucking breathe the same air as you!”

oh my fucking god, will he fucking shut his trap-- we are going to get caught--

“oh, my god,” an exasperated sigh fills the room. “ga hyun, you really need to take a chill pill.”

“don’t tell me to ‘take a chill pill’--”

“if you didn’t walk in here like you owned the fucking place, i wouldn’t have touched you!”

your index finger flies up to your lips and you beg him to shut up with your eyes.

but this piece of dumbshit-doctor doesn’t fucking get it--

you had a victory to claim, and you were not going to let him take that away from you.

the ares inside you wraps your fingers around his face and shoves your lips between his, but your eyes were still wide open, looking out at the glass on the cabinet on the other side of the room to see a taller female trying to drag a shorter female out of the office.

“you need to take a chill pill. the entire hospital is scared of you, honey. don’t you want to amend that?”

the scanner beeps, and the door clicks open.

“if nobody’s done anything wrong then there’s no reason for them to be scared of me.”

“fair, but you need to start wearing a smile on your face more often!” the door hisses shut, and the footsteps start to move away. “i’ll get someone to check the database stuff for you then...”

ares leaves your body and your soul gets sucked back into its rightful place, and you don’t think you’ve shoved anyone, or anything for that matter, faster than you shoved lucifer off your face.

wincing in disgust, the back of your hand wipes the corner of your lips as a frown hardens on your forehead, and lucifer was busy sticking out his tongue like he had just eaten something spicy.

“son of a bitch,” the hiss seethes through your teeth as you walk out from the gap, deliberately running your shoulder against his left arm. “don’t you ever assume that i would let the thinnest strand of hair on my body touch you.”

the wrath and rage drips off your tongue like saliva while you walked, turning your head and looking over your shoulder to glare at lee hyunjae.

“and don’t you ever fucking kiss me again!”

your staff card was barely inches away from the scanner when the words start to eat at your ego.

“for your fucking information, i did not want my lips to be on yours,” you take two big steps to him who was walking towards you in a fit. “someone just didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

his breath was hitting your cheek rapidly, and you jab your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to claw your way through his self-proclaimed glare that he probably thinks scares you off.

your suck your lips between your teeth and scrunch up your nose with effort, your right hand instinctively deciding that it was a good idea to shove him backwards before you left the room.

throwing yourself into your own leather seat in your office and the beads of sweat on your forehead coming off onto a tissue, your eyes plaster themselves to the ceiling.

mission failed.

not only that,

i had to kiss this motherfucking son of a bitch to shut his fucking ass up.

the tissue gets crumpled in your grasp at the thought of underestimating him, and you hurl the lightweight ball barely a metre away from you.

doctor choi brings you on his final round for the day, and happiness was as simple as finding out that lucifer had been called to handle some boring admin work by the hospital administration because he screwed up somewhere in the system.

the round was longer than expected, with one of doctor choi’s alzheimer’s patients talking to you about his childhood. doctor choi tries to steer you clear of the patient, worried that you were uncomfortable. but the stories he was telling you brought you back to a time when your parents were still pretty prominent in your life. doctor choi just leaves you with him until the nurses bring around his medicine as a distraction, providing you with a chance to leave before the patient keeps you for the night.

the evening sun paints the floor a tangerine shade, through the glass doors of the offices. and in your hand was the black file with such reluctance and bitterness that you wish you didn’t agree to this whole research department thing in the first place.

most of the research department officers and doctors had evening duties to tend to before they left, so it was pretty quiet and desolate once you reached doctor kim’s desk with the idea of submitting the research report.

yet the sight of the blue file strikes up a flame of confusion and suspicion. laying down your black file, your fingerpads brush over the cover of the blue one, and ares returns to whisper seductive motivations in your ear.

you run through the pages, not surprised that most of the data was different from yours, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the five-thousand-word-long report behind the oncology cover sheet.

motherfucker.

he must’ve found one of those ‘stray sheets’ for the database while he was snooping in the room.

red bursts of revenge and hatred start to rush through your veins, and you pull apart the rings of the file to remove the ridiculously long report.

the papers were messily stuffed into your work case and you return the file back to its original position, in time for doctor kim to return to his cubicle.

“ah, i was waiting to see if you were going to submit it today!” he gleams at you, and his warm, elderly aura comforts you, peeling you away from the horrible deed you just carried out.

“well, yeah... but i have to confess, i didn’t do much for the oncology report at the back.”

“i was already expecting that after i warned you about doctor shin! but nevermind that, i look forward to reading your report.”

“oh but, uh...” you rub the back of your neck. “have you looked through doctor lee’s? it looks pretty thick.”

doctor kim’s palm finds the two files and he shakes his head. “oh, nope. he just gave me this wide smile and told me to read his file like i was reading a book. his confidence is really something else.”

oh, thank god.

“i see,” the sugary taste of satisfaction rubs itself into your taste buds. “i hope we didn’t let you down, doctor kim. we really worked hard on it.”

the smile doesn’t leave his face, and he only gives you a small pat on the shoulder. “i will look forward to reading both reports.” he nods, and you take your cue to bow and bid goodbye.

your living room was barely lit up with the only source of light being the one from the kitchen, and the gentle chirps of crickets outside were muffled through the sliding doors of your living room.

the wine in your glass was practically frolicking about with your little dance of triumph of the day. though part of the reason why you were drinking wine was to force yourself to forget that you kissed lucifer -- ew --, you were also drinking to celebrate.

“well,” you pout at the little cactus that sat in the middle of the table in your living room. “he should thank me for removing it. doctor kim could figure out that he only got the information from snooping into the oncology department and he could get trouble for it.”

talking to yourself wasn’t a daily routine, but you just couldn’t resist the temptation of convincing yourself that you did nothing wrong.

which in fact, you did not.

but the competitiveness seeps through your bones and makes your stomach churn with regret and displeasure again, when the realisation sinks into your head.

why am i always one step behind you?

with a contorted look of discontentment staring back at you in the reflection of the wine glass, you lift the rim to your lips and down the rest of it like they were shots.

“i should’ve known he was going to do it,” the wine bottle calls out to you like a siren, and your fingers wrap around the cool, glass surface. “if i did it sooner, i might’ve gotten the fucking database information--”

knock knock

you berate zeus for sending a visitor at such a shitty time, throwing your head backwards and squeezing your eyes shut.

knock knock knock knock knock knock

“ugh, mom! i told you not to visit me on a weekday!” the release of the wine bottle only fills your stomach with disappointment as you trudged towards the door.

with enough frustration to fuel your grip around the handle, you yank the heavy door open.

“mom, what are you-- oh.”

shit.

flares of aching poison start to pierce their way into your eyes upon the eye contact, and your knuckles whiten with the tightening grip on the handle of your door.

“you’re gonna wish it was your mom, alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter V: Monitum

#lee hyunjae #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae #the boyz fanfic #the boyz hyunjae #smUT ALeRT

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stonertransdad · 3 years

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Life Update since I hadn't been on here in forever

The pandemic was/is wild! Lockdowns started literally around the time we were going to the fertility specialist to get her pregnant. I lost my job to COVID in March shortly before we did the procedure, but we decided there's never really a good time to have a kid. Why not during a global pandemic when one of us in unemployed? (BTW, I don't recommend having a kid during a pandemic. Not being able to go to all of the appointments and having to sit in the parking lot was brutal.)

Let's talk about May friends...it was rough. (TW for mention of suicide btw. I'll post a gif where it's safe to start again if you wanna skip over it.)

So May 1st is the anniversary of my father's suicide. It had been 4 years. I found his body and since he wasn't married, I had to handle his affairs and arrange his funeral. May 1st, 2020 my wife and I had a Zoom game night with our friends and I got drunk because everyone was drinking (except my wife because she was pregnant). After our game night at like 2am, I had a psychotic break. I threatened to kill myself numerous times. My wife tried to talk me down, but eventually called the cops to take me. I thank her for that because looking back, that was the moment I knew something needed to change. I was convinced the cops were gonna kill me because I'm a trans dude in rural West Texas. I legit took the phone out of my wife's hand, hung up on 911, and yeeted her phone across the backyard and tried to hop the fence. Eventually the cops came and talked me down. They took me to the hospital an hour away in handcuffs (for their protection I did nothing wrong). They took me to the religious hospital that I was born in. So when they looked up my info by my name and date of birth from my driver's license (I only changed my middle name) literally all my paperwork and my bracelet had my deadname and wrong gender despite all of my legal stuff saying male with my new middle name. I mentioned it to them and they didn't care. They misgendered me the entire time I was there. I had hit my head hella hard on the bath tub when my wife was trying to snap me out of it, did the hospital even check me for concussion? Nope. I had punched so many things and my hand and wrist were swollen and discolored. Did they check out my hand and wrist? Nope. I was there for over 10 hours before I was able to convince them I was okay and that it was just the alcohol. Did I mention during that 10 hours I was literally out in the hall on a gurney with no mask and this was when COVID was running rampant in Texas (the first time)? I heard people die that night. I had nothing to distract me because they took away all of my personal items and clothes. My wife picked me up and we went home and I have been sober ever since. It's not the first psychotic break I've had with alcohol in my system. Alcohol just doesn't agree with me, but I'm finding new things to replace it with.

TW has been lifted...it's safe now.

A couple of weeks after that I began teletherapy because I had been on the same mood stabilizer and anti-depressant for almost a decade. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that I felt like it hadn't been working for at least a year. This is a reminder to check in with your doctor if you feel like your meds aren't working. You may just need a different dose or a new med. There's no shame in that. I bounced around on various medications trying to find the right combo, some side effects scarier than others, but we got there. Before this, I had been diagnosed with ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. My therapist threw out my Borderline diagnosis and said it was CPTSD instead, which made sense.

Fast forward to December because my wife was pregnant, I was unemployed still, and we did absolutely fuck-all because the global panini was still raging.

Our son was born on December 3, 2020. He weighed 5lbs 9oz and scared the ever loving shit out of us. He wasn't breathing when he was born so they called NICU in ASAP. I'm freaking out because I can hear and see what's going on while my wife was asking if he was okay as they put her guts back in place to sew her up. 5 or so minutes pass and a nurse asks if I want her to take some pictures. I'm like is he okay, he still hasn't cried. She's like "oh yeah, he's chillin." This goon was being held by a nurse and was just looking around not crying or anything. Chillest baby ever (he still is btw). I held him next to my wife's head until it was time to go back to the room. Little dude did have to spend 4 nights in the NICU because he couldn't keep his sugars or temperature regulated, but he was healthy otherwise. He's now 4 months old and is starting to sit up on his own a little bit and he's OBSESSED with standing. He's still a little guy, but very healthy and growing like a weed. He saves my life daily.

So after being unemployed for over 9 months, I started a new job working in a call center. I absolutely hate talking on the phone. It gives me anxiety and throws me into panic attacks, but I had been putting out hundreds of job applications since I lost my last job and this was the first offer I got. I wasn't really in a position to turn it down since my unemployment had ran out 2 months prior. It was 2 months of training, then we'd be on our own. I got thru the training and thought I could handle it...until they started putting us on live calls with someone helping us if we got stuck. My mental health hit the lowest point it had in a few years and my wife was terrified she was going to lose me. She convinced me to quit on February 28th (not because I didn't want to, but because I'm a stubborn ass who felt guilty). My meds got tweaked a little bit more dosage wise during this mess.

Starting about mid-February, I was experiencing severe shakiness, tremors, and spasms. I've always been a shaky person and never really thought too much about it, but at some points I could barely feed myself, or get a drink, or hold my son. On March 7th, I tried to make an appointment with my doctor about the weird symptoms I was experiencing, but she was out of town and her next opening wasn't until the 31st. My body said that won't work and my wife rushed me to the ER on the 9th...I had begun having seizures that day. I had no previous history of seizures. Got to the ER and had a seizure literally as I was walking thru the door, so they rushed me straight back. They took some blood and that was literally it. No MRI. No CT. They pumped me full of Ativan and said it was just a panic attack and to go home and chill.

Spoiler Alert: It wasn't just anxiety. I was having 20+ seizures a day. On the 10th, my wife rushed me to a different hospital...the good hospital over an hour away. First we had to drop off our gremlin with my mom to make things a little easier. Yet again, I had a seizure as I walked in the door and was taken back immediately. I don't really remember much because they kept pumping me full of Ativan and morphine because I had been in excruciating pain from the number of seizures I'd had. I do remember them doing a CT pretty quickly after I got there. Then they weren't happy with the results of the CT, so they took me to get an MRI, which showed possible signs of Multiple Sclerosis (but I didn't find that out until AFTER the notes showed up in my patient portal after being home a few days, so I raised hell...more on that later.) They did a 24 hour EEG on me and it showed nothing abnormal. Also, EEG glue is a bitch on your hair and scalp. After looking at everything and given my previous mental health history, they diagnosed me with Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures, or PNES. It is a subset of Functional Neurologic Disorder, or FND. I couldn't walk well anymore and had to use a walker when I was discharged. I was in the hospital for 3 days.

When I had my follow-up appointment on the 23rd, I asked why the possibility of MS was never mentioned to me since it was very clearly in the notes. The doctor didn't have an explanation. He called in a referral to neurology so I could get a 2nd MRI to confirm MS and marked it as high priority. He also didn't take my pain seriously. My pain levels had been at a 5 or higher every single minute since they took me off of the morphine in the hospital. He told me to keep taking prescription strength doses of ibuprofen and Tylenol, which I had been. I let him know I had been and it didn't even take the edge off the pain. He ignored me. Leading up to this appointment, I had also added urinary incontinence to my growing list of symptoms and was forced to wear diapers so I didn't have to do laundry all the time. The doctor also took me off my ADHD meds because they were lowering my seizure threshold. He also took me off of my sleeping meds and nightmare meds for the same reason I'm assuming.

I kept my appointment on the 31st with my primary doctor because she's been my doctor for 5 years now and I knew she'd take my pain seriously. She did. She immediately wrote me prescriptions for a muscle relaxer and Tylenol 4. She also told me that my referral had been rejected by neuro. She said my case wasn't a good one for what she called a "wallet biopsy" and the doctors in neurology could be real assholes. She immediately sent the referral to other locations to get an approval. I am still waiting on that despite it being marked as high priority. She wrote me a prescription for a wheelchair because we both agreed my wheelchair was not enough for particular days.

Yesterday my wheelchair was finally ready for pickup, so my wife drove me to go get it. I'm still unable to drive due to my seizures and my tremors and twitches as it's predominantly in my legs and arms. I am an ambulatory wheelchair user now. Some days I can go short distances without my walker, some days I can't go without my walker, some days I can't even get out of bed, and some days I will be using my wheelchair. Don't judge a book by its cover, not all disabilities are visible. I have managed to keep my daily seizure count down in single digits and have even had a few seizure free days. They are still incredibly taxing on my body. I feel like I can't ever replenish my spoons fast enough to keep up with anything in my life.

So all in all, life has been chaotic. We are moving from Texas to New Mexico in the next few weeks, which should be interesting considering I can't overdo it without throwing myself into seizures. We will be closer to my mother-in-law so she can help us with our son and I can start resting a bit more on the more difficult days. Being a stay-at-home dad with an invisible illness has been one of the most challenging things I've done in my life, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

Sorry this is so long. I just wanted to update my followers since it's been over a year since I posted before a few days ago.

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tansypoisoning · 4 years

Text

(Un)Conditional - Part 2

I Came Out to Have a Good Time and I’m Honestly Feeling So Attacked Right Now

You didn’t remember how or why you found yourself in Ransom’s bed in the first place, but now, poor, pregnant and desperate, you had your reasons for putting up with him, and they weren’t noble. His reasons for staying with you weren’t noble either.

Hey, long time no see... This took me longer than it should because I wasn’t sure about the dialogue. Still not sure about it. Some of you might have missed the polls I posted so you could help me decide the future of this series, so here they go: Whether or not I should redeem Ransom and What gender the baby (or babies, damn) should be. Democracy is important :)

Anyway: Reader meets the Thrombeys...

Story warnings: Smut, abusive relationships, mentions of past sexual assault, talk of abortion, daddy kink, drinking, mention of drug use (Will add more as the story goes on)

Chapter 1 - Truce

Chapter 3

Fandoms: Knives Out

Ships: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Chapter warnings: The reader and Ransom joke about incest and Ransom jokes about selling the baby to pay his grandfather back for all the money he lend him; people drink wine; there’s mention of drugs and people doing them; The Thrombeys are being particularly shitty.

You were off to the clinic to get an urine exam the next day. Ransom had encouraged you to get a more reliable test to make sure you were pregnant, but he wouldn’t accompany you. He was busy, he said, but he didn’t say with what. Probably begging his granddaddy for more money or chasing after another pair of legs.

The clinic would call you in a couple of days to let you know the results. The wait was killing you. The longer you waited, the harder it would be for you to get an abortion. At some point the pill would stop being an option, and you would have to go under the… knife? Scalpel? Coat hanger? Whatever the procedure entailed, it was bound to be more stressful than just taking some meds.

What was most concerning, though, was the possibility of you becoming attached to the fetus. Your misgivings originated from a fear that you might be doing something you shouldn’t, but you had no particular regard for the thing growing inside you. You might as well be carrying a rock – it certainly tired you like one. Some day that could change, though, and the moment it did you knew it would be game over.

The first thing you did when you got home was take off your coat, kick off your shoes and fall face-first on the couch. That was also the only thing you did. According to the sources you checked, fatigue was an early pregnancy symptom, but you weren’t sure it was meant to be this bad. Good thing you weren’t behind on your freelance work; you didn’t think you could handle doing anything that evening. You were hungry, but didn’t have the energy to even go to the kitchen. Your cellphone started ringing at some point, but you had dropped your bag by the entrance. Maybe something else happened too; you didn’t know, you fell asleep soon after.

You were roused from your nap by a cacophony of car honks right outside your window.

You jumped from the couch and stumbled to see what the commotion was about. You expected to find a car crash in front of your building, but all that was there was a familiar vehicle.

You stepped into your slippers and left your apartment. Ransom was still abusing the horn of his BMW when you came out onto the lawn.

“What are you doing?” You cried out, jogging to his car.

He put his head out through the window. “You don’t pick up your phone anymore?” He complained.

“I was sleeping.” The reason why you didn’t answer didn’t matter. This was a distraction. “Why are you here?”

“I came to pick you up, what else?” He seemed to notice you confusion and explained himself “I’m going to introduce you to my family. They’re having a dinner party tonight at my grandfather’s house. If I show up there with a kid before they even know the mother, my mother’s gonna kill me.”

That gave you pause. Introduce you to his family? That had never been in the cards before. Ransom had always been against anything that could hint to intimacy that went beyond sex, because intimacy entailed responsibility, and he was allergic to that. Your relationship was more of an arrangement, one in which he was the one with the most to gain.

Perhaps this would be your chance to really get something for yourself, something other than the occasional orgasm. Although Ransom’s charms and your proclivities were the biggest reason behind the start of your odd relationship, you’d be lying if you said his grandfather’s accomplishments didn’t affect your interest in him. Having been an avid reader of Harlan’s books back in high school (when you still had time and motivation to read) and now working as an assistant editor in the mystery fiction imprint of a large publishing company, you had hoped that maybe being involved with Ransom would give you the chance to meet him.

Even when it became clear Ransom didn’t like you like that, you still stuck around. He was inflexible when it came to your relationship’s dynamics, but you still had a sliver of hope that one day you’d get to meet his family. In the end you were right, and all you had to do to get your wish was let your idol’s grandson raw you after a couple of beers.

“I’m not even sure if I’m pregnant yet.”

“After five tests? Come on.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it.”

“If you don’t, you don’t. Just let me introduce you before you decide. It’ll be awkward otherwise.”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. Ransom’s family wasn’t likely to think well of you if he introduced you as “the chick I knocked up by accident”. Your family wouldn’t be happy about it either, and yet you had to find a way to convince him to meet them at some point. You knew they weren’t going to like him, but it was better than trying to pretend it was a case of Immaculate Conception. They wouldn't fall for it anyway.

“Go get ready so we can go.” He said.

You nodded and ran back inside. He looked like he was in a rush, so all you felt comfortable doing was retouching your make up and putting on a different pair of pants. When you came back down, Ransom was pouting at his wheel.

“About time,” he said “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I took like five minutes.”

“Eight.” He tapped the watch in his wrist.

You decided humoring him wasn’t worth it, so you got into the passenger seat without a word. Ransom took off, his tires squealing as he did a u-turn on your sidewalk. He always drove like a madman, most of all when he was in a hurry.

“How long ‘til we get there?” You asked.

“I can make it in half an hour.”

“I mean safely.”

“In that case, thirty minutes.”

Shame on you, forgetting Ransom was convinced he was immortal.

“Is there anything I have to know about your family before I get there?” You asked, trying to take your mind off the traffic lights flashing by at an alarming speed.

“I could never do them justice,” he snickered.

“At least give me something to work with.”

“You are going to have talk to my parents at least,” he mused “Just nod and agree with whatever my father says. You gotta be smarter with my mother, but avoid challenging her. Joni and Meg are annoying, Walt’s creepy, and there’s no point in talking to Donna and Jacob; they’re gonna hate you no matter what.”

“And Harlan?”

The question put a grimace on his face.

“Be honest. He’s gonna like you.” There was a minute pause before he added “We just celebrated his eighty-fifth birthday, so if you can bring up how good he looks for his age without being obnoxious, he’s gonna love it.”

“Eighty-five? When was that?” You liked Harlan’s work, but you didn’t like it enough to bother learning his birth year. You expected him to be younger, what with all the books he was still pumping out on a yearly basis.

“Last week.”

“Your family is big on get-togethers, then?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt,” you offered. You weren’t sure you’d get along with your parents as well as you did if they didn’t live in another state.

“Sucking does too.”

“But I thought you liked people who suck?”

That was a twelve year old boy joke, but it got you a chuckle.

“Already know what I’ll be trying today: Hey, Joni, blow me.”

“That’s your aunt right?” You asked and received a nod in response “I can’t wait to see you asking her for a blow job.” You didn’t really think he would go that far, so you weren’t worried you were goading him on. If he did it anyway, it would be because he decided the amusement he would get from pissing his aunt off would be worth whatever she could do to get back at him.

“Fuck, I’d accept one from my grandfather at this point.” You two had had sex just yesterday, but that was fine, you supposed.

“I think I’m going to regret this, but since we’re already in too deep and none of us knows when to stop, where are your parents in the Joni-Harlan blowjob scale?” This question might’ve offended anyone else, but Ransom was made of sterner, more horrible stuff.

He replied without missing a beat. “Oh, my dad wins easy. I don’t fancy getting bit.”

The throwaway line about his mother killing him if he just announced your pregnancy out of the blue came to mind. You wondered if she was as terrible as he made her out to be. You wondered if any of his relatives were as horrible as he made teem out to be.

“Hard to think you’d be scared of anyone in your family with all the money they lend you and you never pay back.”

He snorted. “I’m not scared of any of them. Wouldn’t be going if I were. I already owe Harlan more ‘one-pounds of flesh’ than I weigh.”

“Good thing he doesn’t charge interest.”

“Who says he doesn’t?” His eyes flicked to you for a moment, comically wide “What do you think I want the baby for?”

“You- you want the baby?” You knew he meant to jest about selling your child, and perhaps the bit about wanting it was said in the spirit of the joke, but you couldn’t help but hope it was a Freudian slip. Why did you hope that?

His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he considered your question for a few seconds. “I said I would help you with it.”

“No, you said that at first, but now you said you want it. I didn’t even ask for help, I just thought I should tell you. Why did you offer to help in the first place?”

He shrugged. Something about the gesture felt off, less cocksure than his usual self. “Because it felt right.”

“But do you want to do it? Do you even know what raising a child means?”

“Do you?”

No, you didn’t. You might have even less knowledge of the subject than Ransom, weird as that seemed. You hadn’t said you wanted to have the baby, though. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

“Do you want me to drop you off at a clinic? Because we can end this now.” Something about the way he’d said it made it seem as if he was talking about more than just the pregnancy.

“That’s not what I meant.” You whispered.

Edifices were replaced by trees as Ransom drove on. It was easy to focus on the changing view, now that he wasn’t talking to you anymore. You had broken one of his unspoken rules: never get emotional around him. You knew he wasn’t in it for something as trivial as feelings, but now with the pregnancy thing you thought… Well, you weren’t sure what you thought.

The rest of the trip went by in silence, seeming to take forever in spite of the scenery flying by. By the time you arrived at your destination you were disheartened – lucky you that the house Ransom parked in front of was the stuff murder mystery fiction dreams were made of.

Harlan’s mansion had been plucked from one of his books, it had to have been. With its red bricks and the Gothic Revival style, it looked like it’d been taken straight out of “Around the Corner and Down the Lane”. It was a magnificent, giant, mysterious house you could easily imagine multiple murders happening inside.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Ransom left the car, slamming the door shut on his way out. You had to hurry after him to get to the porch as he was knocking on the door.

You didn’t have to wait long to hear sounds coming from the other side. There were footsteps against a wooden floor and the shuffling of keys, and then time seemed to slow down. When you woke up that morning, you’d never have thought you would end up meeting Ransom’s family by the end of the day. Were they anything like him? What would they think of you? And what would they think about the thing? You weren’t going to talk about it today, but still…

The door opened, revealing a slim woman with an old fashioned bob-cut. She looked confused when she saw Ransom, and even more when she spotted you. She opened her mouth, but didn’t get the chance to say anything.

“Hey, Frannie,” Ransom greeted. If you didn’t know him better, you’d assume he was being friendly. “Take this for me, would you?”

He removed his coat with the speed you’d come to expect from him when it came to taking off his clothes and shoved the mass of fabric into her arms. He walked inside, brushing past her, ignoring the outraged look on her face. You followed after, and her expression was no kinder towards you. It wasn’t the first time someone got mad at you for something Ransom did, but what were you to do? It wasn’t as if you could control him.

As Ransom walked through an arch on the left and the woman scurried through a door to the right, you stood on the spot right in front of the entrance. The gargoyles sculpted in the wood of the stair railing paralyzed you, the lights from the ornate chandelier blinded you, and the memories of books read long ago, hiding under the blankets with a flashlight when you were supposed to be sleeping came rushing back to you. This was much more than you had been expecting.

The inside of the house was dark and sinister like the outside, but there was a sense of warmth you hadn’t anticipated. The soft lights, the lavish rugs, and the numerous trinkets scattered about gave it a lived in feeling. The decoration somehow split the difference between “home” and “haunted house” right down the middle.

Why was it that Ransom didn’t like visiting his grandfather again?

“What are you standing around for?”

Speak of the devil…

Your forced your feet to move and followed him deeper into the house. Something inside you screamed at you to just ditch Ransom and this stupid dinner party to explore by yourself, because you got the feeling he would end up dragging you to a place that looked much more boring. You needn’t have worried – the living room was adorned in much the same way as the hall, cluttered and discordant and fascinating. Every piece of decor seemed to selected based on its own merits rather than any common theme or style, but it somehow all worked together.

You had started making your way to a windowsill, from where a model of a carousel with fish instead of horses called to you, when a voice stopped you in your tracks – a voice you had never heard before.

“Who’s that?”

You whirled around to see a man standing just a few feet away from Ransom. The age was about right, and with the two standing so close together, it was hard to deny the similarities between them.

“That’s my date,” Ransom said with a shrug.

“Date? You brought a date?”

“Nice, Richard. We don’t want to make her feel too welcome.”

At that, the older man looked back at you with a grin that would be charming if not for the utter shock reflected in his eyes.

“Hey, there,” he greeted, extending a hand “Richard Drysdale, father of this,” he glanced behind himself to look at Ransom, who was busy messing with a figurine in the mantelpiece “rascal.”

You offered your hand to him (his handshake was strong, professional) and introduced yourself.

“I gotta say, this is really something else,” Richard said “Ransom hasn’t brought any girls home since high school.”

“I bring girls home all the time, I just don’t live with you anymore.”

The meaning of his words didn’t go unnoticed. You already knew he fucked other women on the side – or rather, there was no “side”; you guys weren’t a thing, and it wasn’t as if you only put out for him – but Richard understood him as well.

“Is that the kind of thing you say in front of your date? I thought we taught you better than this.”

“No, Richard. We really didn’t.”

You looked to the source of the voice, and spotted the woman who had to be Ransom’s other progenitor.

“Linda,” she extended her hand to you, but not a smile. Her handshake was even stronger than her husband’s.

Richard joined his son by the fireplace to fiddle with a pewter box, looking downright chastised. Ransom, for his part, seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh.

He had said his family was a mess, and that he found it all terribly fun. Up until now, you weren’t really sure you believed him.

“Whatever this” Linda pointed from her son to you, then back to him again “is about, I hope it ends soon, for your sake.” The last bit, she’d said while looking at you, then she left through a different archway than she’d entered from.

It seemed Ransom had inherited the charm from his father, but the ability to put the fear of God in those who crossed him came from his mother.

“Who else is here?” Ransom asked once Linda was out of earshot.

“Mostly everyone is in the library,” Richard replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, all the former friendliness leaving him like a deflating balloon “your grandfather locked himself in his office with the nurse, and who knows where they put Wanetta. Meg’s not coming.”

“What excuse did Joni come up with?”

“Schoolwork. Essays, whatever. I mean, it’s a Friday, it could wait.”

“She’s going to spend at least half of the evening doing drugs with a friend, easy.”

“Dope.”

Ransom snorted “Like she’s shooting up.”

Richard fixed his son with a disbelieving look. “No. Dope is weed. Dope was weed just yesterday.”

“It used to be.” Upon seeing the defeated expression on his father’s face, Ransom shrugged “World’s passing you by, man.”

That didn’t help. Richard looked back to the pewter box, turning it on his fingers like he was trying to find the best angle to see his reflection. Ransom stared at him for a second longer, then stepped away from the fireplace and exited through the same way his mother had.

He didn’t call you, so you assumed you weren’t needed at the moment, but then, what were you going to do with yourself – watch a man have an existential crisis?

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. You had been standing there, watching Richard sigh to himself for maybe a minute when three other people entered the room. The first was the woman who had opened the door for you; the second, a younger woman, with something almost doe-like about her, and the third…

Well, Harlan Thrombey didn’t need introductions – at least, not to you.

He was the first to speak, looking at the woman Ransom had called Frannie. “Seems like you aren’t going mad, Fran. Unless we all are, which is possible. Can you see her too?” And at that he turned to the other woman, who smiled at him. It was hard to tell whether her smile was fond or embarrassed.

Then, his eyes landed on you.

“Since you’re just standing around with this idiot,” He said. Richard gave a tight smile and tapped his fingers against the mantelpiece “I’m going to guess idiot number two left you to fend for yourself?”

This wasn’t the kind of welcome you’d expect when meeting your not-boyfriend’s family, but Ransom was eccentric, so maybe his relatives were as well. Maybe it was a rich people thing.

“I’m used to it, when it comes to Ransom” you offered.

Harlan grinned at you, but then again, he had been smiling since he entered the room. There was something very Ransom-like about both expressions.

He ambled to you, extending a hand which you rushed to grasp. His smile grew, but maybe that wasn’t good.

“I’m Harlan, the proprietor of this” he gestured to the room with both hands “little menagerie of horrors. And these,” he turned to the women “are Fran, my housekeeper, the only one who can keep this mess in order,” the woman who’d opened the door smiled and raised her hand in greeting, but she still seemed suspicious of you “and Marta, my caretaker. Heaven sent, I would already be dead if not for her.”

Marta had smiled at you as she was introduced, but frowned at the last comment.

“Don’t say that,” she admonished “you’re strong like a horse, you’re going to live for a million years, I’m sure.”

Harlan whimpered theatrically and extended a hand as if trying to grasp at something.

“Marta, is that you? It’s so dark, I can’t see. Oh, is that a light at the end of the tunnel?”

“Really? You’re impossible.” Marta huffed, and Harlan laughed.

They seemed close. Close enough that they’d forgotten all about you in their banter.

Once he was done with his joke Harlan turned back to you.

“I promise you I don’t get any more charming, but you get used to it with time.”

Time. Did he think you’d get to be around long enough to get used to anything there?

“Let’s... get this party started,” he said with a wink “I don’t ask you your name because I’m dying to see how my grandson will introduce you, and I don’t want to get attached.”

That answered that question.

You followed the party of three into another living room(parlor?), then another(fainting room? How many rooms for sitting could one person need?), then finally to what you presumed was the library (that could easily double as a living room), given the floor to ceiling bookcases in every wall that wasn’t occupied by a window. The room was large, large than any room in a house needed or had a right to be, and there were so many books on so many shelves there was no way Harlan would’ve been able to read them all, even accounting for his age.

Despite the exorbitance, the place was cozy and interesting, not at all a monochromatic art installation behemoth the likes of the Kardashian-West mansion (Which you didn’t care about in the slightest… one of your coworkers had shown you the pictures, it was all), the sort of thing you expected from people with too much money and no sense of comfort. The library was furbished with plush seats, nooks where one could hide in to read in peace, even a mezzanine, and– was that a sculpture inspired by “A Thousand Knives”?! Excessive, very excessive, and somehow also really cool. You were sure you could spend hours perusing books and examining baubles, but there were other people already in the room, and you had been raised too well to just ignore them when it was obvious you had already seen them.

Linda leaned against an open window, balancing an unlit cigarette between two fingers, and looking out, as if debating whether or not to have a smoke and whether or not doing so inside. There were a man and a woman on a pair of matching high-backed chairs, looking nervous and annoyed respectively as another woman talked at them, and a teenager speaking to Ransom in between typing things on his phone. He was the first to notice you’d entered the room and he directed a brief glare to you before his eyes landed on Marta.

“Well, no need to stand up or anything,” Harlan spoke from behind you, waving his hand as he passed.

“Dad, plea-” the sitting man began, but he stopped once he saw you. After a moment of confused staring by both parties, he looked back to Harlan “Is that-”

“Don’t know; she came with your nephew.”

All eyes were now on Ransom. He was enjoying the attention, if the stupid smug grin on his face was any indication.

“I brought a date. I figured I had to be the first to do it, since Meg thinks all sex is rape and Jacob’s an incel,” that earned him an elbow in the gut, which he barely reacted to.

“A date? Boohoo,” Harlan spoke, and you almost winced “I expected something more exciting from you.”

“Would you rather she was a notorious diamond thief and I brought her here to steal every red penny you own, old man?”

“That would be more on brand.”

“That’s it,” Marta said, placing her hands on his shoulders and directing him to an armchair in front of the knife sculpture “I’m putting you to bed earlier, abuelo.”

“Not without me throwing a tantrum, you’re not.”

Ransom’s uncle looked back and forth from his father, then to you, then to his nephew, before settling on you and standing up. He picked up a cane that was resting beside the armchair and wobbled toward you, smiling.

“Hello. I’m Walt, it’s a pleasure to meet you…”

You gave him your name, exchanged proper greetings, shook hands; his fingers were trembling slightly, but the length of the hand shake was very appropriate.

“I hope you like it here so far. Any friend of Ransom’s is welcome here.”

“You say that because you never met any of my friends.”

“You know what Ransom,” Walt turned gave him a sarcastic smile “I’m surprised you have any friends at all. You sure you not paying her to be here?”

You didn’t know exactly what it was that Walt had said, but something had set Ransom off.

“Why, you want a round with her? Don’t think you could afford it right now, pal.”

Walt’s lips were still pulled up into a smile, but his pupils were darting from side to side like he was searching for escape routes. That was fair, so were you.

“Don’t speak to my husband that way,” the woman who hadn’t said a single word to or even acknowledged your presence so far, gripped the seat’s armrest as she seethed at Ransom “it’s not his fault that-”

At that she fell silent and turned to Harlan, who was looking at everything with mild interest.

“Actually, you don’t have a job either, do you Donna?” Ransom continued. You knew that look; he was getting steam and you didn’t want to know what would come next.

“I think we’re all just a little stressed with everything that’s been going on,” the woman who had been silent so far – Ransom’s other aunt, you presumed, the one he wanted to suck his dick – mercifully cut in before he could get anything else out “I think we need to roll things back, maybe start over? I can go back to the car and get my crystals so we can do a-”

As if on cue, Fran entered again, a tray with a wine bottle and glasses in hand. She left everything on a coffee table, then walked by Marta, whispering something that convinced the younger woman to move to a more secluded corner of the room with her.

Donna perked up when the drink touched the table, and, smiling the well practiced smile of a hostess who did her duty with no joy, she started pouring drinks and handing them around. When one of the glasses was placed in your hands, you weren’t sure what to do. You rolled the stem in your fingers, pondering as the other adults drank and Jacob sulked.

“So,” Joni began, giving you an easy grin “you and Ransom have known each other for…”

As she trailed off, Linda chuckled, but she wasn’t looking at you.

“Eight months, give or take.” You answered.

The answer seemed to surprise her “Eight months? And how long have you been dating?”

“Oh, I’m not...” you turned to Ransom for help, but he was looking at his nails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the World or as if he really didn’t want to take part in this conversation “I’m not sure. We haven’t exactly made things official.”

It looked like she was fighting to keep her smile in place “And you met-”

“What do you do?” Linda interrupted, still looking out the window “Do you actually have a job or are you just expecting to scam someone here?”

You turned to Ransom; he had placed a hand over his heart and was looking at his mother as if he found her comment deeply offensive.

You hadn’t thought about what you would say if Ransom’s family decided to grill you, deciding it would be best not to overthink things as he’d suggested. A question about your job was expected – it was just harder to process it when it had been asked in such a manner.

“No, I- I’m an assistant editor at Little, Brown and Company.”

There was a splashing sound, and you looked just in time to see Walt trying to rub off a stain from his sweater with one hand, while holding his wine glass with trembling fingers. When he noticed you looking at him, he offered a stiff smile.

That was the wrong answer, it seemed. It was the truth, of course, but the reactions around you were discouraging. Linda huffed, Harlan chuckled, Joni nodded mechanically, Donna seethed as she wiped at her husband’s clothes with a napkin, Walt trembled, Jacob’s scowl deepened, the sound coming from Fran and Marta’s corner of the room ceased, and Ransom’s grin was the widest you had ever seen on his face.

“Really?” Linda asked, now focused on her son “Where do you find those people?”

He laughed. “What? I’m very charming.”

“I need to use the restroom,” you squawked. You didn’t really need the restroom, just any place other than there.

“I’ll show you where it is,” Marta said, as quickly as you had. Her eyes told you everything: she was also dying to get out.

You handed your drink over to Ransom and followed Marta out of the room, the two of you almost running down the hallway.

She led you to a lavatory, where you turned on the faucets to cover the sound of you whimpering and heaving inside. After splashing your face with some water, you exited the room to find her still waiting for you outside. She offered an apologetic smile.

“So…” you started, not sure of how to best broach the subject. Good thing she already knew what you wanted to get at.

“They aren’t always like this,” she said “they’re all good people, but things have been a little… you know how it can be with family, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a little… seems kind of a bad time for me to be showing up.”

“No, I think it helps. They are better behaved when there’s company.”

But that’s true of everyone.

“Ransom didn’t tell you about…? Anything?” She asked.

“No. He said it’d be fine.”

Marta’s expression was of doubt, but she didn’t say anything to discredit him.

“Are you okay to go back?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

She nodded and stared leading you back to the room.

“They’re good people, but can be a little much sometimes. You get used to it with time.”

“You- I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but you don’t look that used to them yourself.”

She shrugged “I guess I just… haven’t been around long enough.”

The scene you returned to was different from the one you had run from. Linda had abandoned the window and reclined on one of the armchairs. Richard had made his appearance, leaning against a bookcase behind Linda; He kept a respectful (perhaps even safe) distance between the two. Walt, Jacob and Donna were squeezed in on a single couch, looking like they’d just been plucked from a stuffy family portrait. Joni lounged on a window seat, leaning her chin on one hand and swirling her wine with the other. Fran was nowhere to be found. Harlan, sat atop the chair in front of the halo of knives, looking every bit the magnanimous patriarch. Ransom had taken his place on an armchair, just beside another empty one. On his other side was a small table with two empty wineglasses. His legs were crossed and he had a wide, satisfied smile that you knew well – so you knew it couldn’t mean anything good.

You sat beside him and angled your body in a way you felt would rend a pretty picture, because that seemed to be the game they were playing, while Marta made her way to a corner and stood there, doing the most not to draw attention to herself. Smart.

“So,” Harlan began as you settled into your spot “I think you were telling us about your career?”

“Yes, but there really isn’t much else to say.” Unless they wanted to be bored, that is. You had more tales of spotting typos than of interesting literary works.

“You said you worked at Little, Brown and Co?” He asked and you nodded “How long have you been there?”

“Two years. It’s about all the experience I have working in the field, other than internships in college.”

“Ah, College.” He grinned, but didn’t explain what he found so amusing “What did you major in?”

“English literature, with a minor in communications.”

“Good, good. Topical. You two bonded over books, then?”

You turned to Ransom, who was looking at you with a lazy smile. You had never told him about your job, let alone what you had studied in college.

“Yep,” he said. You two talked about books sometimes, but you didn’t think those conversations had helped with any bonding.

“You know, I think it’s so good to see Ransom has found a positive influence,” Joni said. The affectation in her voice and mannerisms was suddenly much more noticeable, and it felt like an omen.

You turned to Ransom. His lips were pressed together into a thin line and his chest was swelling like he was gathering oxygen for a screaming match or something worse. The longer you spent around these people, the more you were convinced he wasn’t the only one who liked to needle others.

“Honestly, I-” the words tumbled out of your mouth and you could only hope they were the right ones “I’m not sure if he’s influenceable.”

Ransom was still scowling and for a moment you were afraid you had only made things worse, but then his mouth opened and he let out the air in his lungs with a low chuckle. Much better than being in the middle of another argument.

Fran walked back into the room before anyone else could start a scene and announced that dinner was ready. Apparently Harlan hadn’t been exaggerating when he said she was the only one who kept his house in order – all around you tense shoulders relaxed and frowning brows smoothed with the promise of a meal. You must’ve looked happy as well, given you hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch and your stomach was starting to hurt. There was also (and you wished the thought hadn’t run through your mind, but it did) the chance that Ransom and his family would be much less likely to speak if their mouths were stuffed with meatloaf.

You wished you didn’t have those sort of intrusive thoughts about people you had just met, but they weren’t making it easy for you. Marta had alluded to a “family situation” that had left them on edge, but you had never seen people react this badly to strangers. This was the stuff or nightmares, or at least of “Florida Man” news reports. They were supposedly worse when there wasn’t company? How much worse could they get?

Ransom had told you not to worry about dining with his family. Maybe he was so used to them he didn’t think the way they acted was all that strange; maybe he knew his family would behave the way they had but he decided not to warn you for purposes of fuckery; it didn’t matter all that much. The worst thing was knowing that they sucked as hard as he liked to say they did. If you chose to go on with your pregnancy, this is what you would be bringing your child into.

#ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fic #Ransom Thrombrey #knives out fanfic #mine #(Un)Conditional

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comradekatara · 4 years

Note

any more hcs on sokka and azula’s “rivalry”?

sokka has been the competition since day one. he’s the only person in this godforsaken den of idiots who can remotely keep up with her trenchant mind. she despises him, naturally.

every week, zuko hears her rehearse debate strategies on the way to school, and he feels that trademark mix of irritation and concern he feels for her whenever she is doing something particularly on-brand. “i’m going to crush sokka today,” she announces to him proudly. “i’m going to destroy him.” zuko sighs, rolls his eyes, and proclaims, “for the last time, azula, i don’t know who that is!”

sokka is confused as to why a freshman he doesn’t know approaches him in the halls today to say “i see someone doesn’t seem to care about their so-called perfect attendance record.” and sokka’s really tired so he’s just like, “i was at my girlfriend’s funeral. is that okay with you, random child?? is that allowed???” azula just narrows her eyes and says, “hm. lucky save.” this actually gets sokka to laugh for the first time all week.

sometimes sokka will complain to katara about the young republican in his debate class. oftentimes katara will complain to sokka about the girl on the team who’s always taunting her for no goddamn reason. they get way more excited than they should the day that they realize that they are talking about the same person. sokka suddenly forgives katara for all those times he had to pick her up from detention for getting into fistfights during practice, because yeah, he’s heard her stance on affirmative action, so perhaps she simply got what she deserved :)

the first time azula sees zuko talking to sokka in the halls, she is shaken to her core. she knew he was ruthless, a master tactician, but what kind of cruel gambit is this??? she demands that zuko tell her everything they were talking about. zuko’s like “you know that cardigans album ‘first band on the moon’???” and azula, who would never wear nor listen to a cardigan, is just like “what kinda 5D chess is he playing..........”

azula is desperate to know what sokka got on his SATs. he won’t tell her, because why the fuck would he. it keeps her up at night. eventually he gets sick of her incessant texting, so he blocks her number. she hacks into zuko’s phone and writes, “’Sup, bro? Did you get your SAT results back too? How’d you do?” and sokka just responds, “hi zuko! what a normal question!” and then lets zuko know the next day at school that azula stole his phone.

sokka actually raises his voice one time in debate. it is during a resolution that “colonialism has its benefits, actually.” he manages to stay level while explaining his position, but some kid in the back nods thoughtfully while azula is spouting nonsense, and sokka just points a finger at him and yells, “I SEE YOU NODDING, WHITE BOY.” katara oh so desperately wishes she had been there to witness that glorious moment, but since she’s not a nerd, she doesn’t do debate.

one lovely summer’s day, azula follows zuko all the way from home, waits a reasonable amount of time, and then just walks past them, lowers her sunglasses and goes, oh so casually, “zuzu? zuzu’s friend? can it really be you? why, whatever are you doing in the park?” zuko just responds flatly, “i thought you said that ‘parks are for vagrants and the poor.’” and azula’s like, “nonsense! i’m meeting mai and ty lee here right now.” sokka says, “but suki just sent me a picture of her with ty lee three minutes ago.” and zuko says, “and mai is babysitting tom tom because their au pair came down with tb.” azula mumbles that actually, she’s talking about someone else, and also what the fuck, do people even still get tb??? and zuko just frowns and says, “but azula, you don’t have any other friends.” she laughs and says, “shows what you know,” and saunters off, a confident stride in her step all the way home. at which point she locks herself in her room and screams into a pillow. meanwhile, at the park, sokka is like, “do people still get tb???” and zuko just shrugs and says, “i don’t know; i just felt like calling her bluff.”

azula thinks it is most outrageous that sokka is valedictorian considering that he has countless absences from his freshman and sophomore years. ty lee just blinks and tilts her head. “azula, how do you even know that?” she asks, at which point azula casually admits that she has copies of his entire record and all his grades. ty lee is very scared, but wisely does not inform sokka. better to let him live in blissful ignorance, she thinks.

her senior year is very dull without sokka. ty lee suggests that she find another hobby to replace it. azula’s just like “what are you implying????” but they both know ty lee chooses her words very deliberately. azula takes up archery.

she calls zuko once all year, and it is to inform him that she is going to harvard. he wishes her the best of luck, and then promptly hangs up. at harvard, which is in boston, perhaps you’ve heard of it, she does the engineering and the pre-law track, because if zuko’s going to be every immigrant parents’ worst nightmare by majoring in some humanities bullshit, she may as well make her father twice as proud. (lowkey she is kind of ashamed that she’s not pre-med, but she knows she’d make a better lawyer than doctor.) she refuses to admit that the workload is too much for her until people she doesn’t even know start coming up to her to ask her if she’s okay.

in her senior year at harvard, she has a ...bit of a mental breakdown. finals are approaching, and the pressure has finally gotten too much for her, and she just cracks. she takes some really shitty scissors, like, those kids’ scissors with the zagged edges, and gives herself “bangs.” she cries in the shower until the water gets so cold she screams. she eats nothing but cheetos for three whole days and she doesn’t even bother to wash her hands. she drunk dials zuko to be like “oh i am doing so good you don’t even KNOW.” zuko plays the six voicemails she left him at 3am back to sokka, who’s like “i think we have to go to boston???”

because azula is very sensitive right now, zuko pretends that he’s there to ask her for money. he takes her to lunch, which she wears sweatpants to, and sokka just happens to run into them. azula’s like “what the fuck are you doing here???” and he’s like “oh....you know......just visiting my cousin......” to which azula’s like “you have a white cousin?” but then zuko invites him to have lunch with them, and azula brags about how great she’s been doing in college and how she’s top of her class and is gonna go to harvard for law school as well, and sokka’s like “that’s so great! i had no doubt you could do it.” and then she openly sobs in the middle of a restaurant and zuko can feel all the other patrons of this boston establishment glare at them and he’s just like “azula do you mind not being so loud?? we are begging to be hatecrimed” and tries to apologize to everyone on her behalf. after she stops crying, she’s like “well, i must be off to cambridge now! don’t know why we went all the way into boston, since i have a lecture in an hour” and sokka’s like “ok cool bye” but then zuko kicks him and he says, very naturally, “you know, i’ve always wanted to know what the harvard campus is like.” (he doesn’t mention that he saw the harvard campus when he toured MIT.) azula’s just like “of course you would.”

they end up staying with azula until they can persuade her to see a therapist, which takes a really long time because azula believes that therapists are a scam for weak-willed white liberals who love to complain, but sokka manages to organically bring up how he was in therapy intensively for a really long time after yue’s death, and this finally manages to convince her. it takes her a really long time to adjust to therapy because she sees it like a game she refuses to lose, but having completed their mission, sokka and zuko are confident that she’s sprung back enough that at least they don’t have to keep staying in this really creepy motel in boston that zuko is convinced is haunted. she ends up having to repeat the semester, and then takes another semester off, but she goes to harvard law after that.

she makes partner in record speeds. women hate her, and men fear her. her makeup never smudges, her outfits are always impeccable. she never loses a case. then her father dies. she sees zuko at the funeral, and though she stays completely calm throughout the day, she’s a mess on the way home. zuko hates driving, but he drives her home because she had half a bottle of vodka and it’s evident that she is softly crying because her eyeliner teartracks are running over themselves, black smudges spilling down her face. he sleeps on her couch. he’s still there the next morning, and he’s gotten her fresh pastries for breakfast, which she must admit, is a lot tastier than black coffee and a protein bar. he insists that she take another day off work, and she’s like “um they already let me have one day off for the funeral??? i can’t just miss my job willy-nilly, zuzu. it’s my job.” he is so concerned for her. so he reaches out more after that. eventually, she reaches back.

after a lot of coaxing from zuko, sokka unblocks her phone number and texts her, “hey, how’ve you been?” she agonizes over this text for two days, at which point she responds, “Fine.” he writes, “i’m gonna be home for the holidays. if you’re around we should hang out!” and azula, who had no such plans of going anywhere for the holidays, especially not back home, where she has no family left, anyway, is like “Yeah okay.”

seeing sokka for the first time in years, and katara, who she hasn’t seen for even longer, is really jarring for azula. katara’s in a happy relationship. sokka has a fulfilling career. she always told herself she’d get a girlfriend after she got on the supreme court, but that suddenly seems awfully far away as she watches katara’s boyfriend dote on her. aang, this guy who was a few grades below her and insanely popular, throws a new year’s eve party, and invites a whole bunch of people from their highschool because apparently, he was not only friends with everyone, but regularly keeps in touch with all of them. horrid. absolutely horrid. azula goes, out of sheer curiosity. she sees toph, who is having the time of her life at this party that is neither a black tie fundraiser nor a dinner party, and as casually as possible asks her where sokka is, since of course she still remembers that sokka and toph were best friends in high school (though is in fact unaware that they still are). tophs just like “oh, you know how zuko hates parties, so he and sokka just stayed home.” azula gets lightheaded despite having not yet had a drop of alcohol. what exactly did toph say??? toph, yelling this time so that azula may hear her better, yells, “HE AND ZUKO STAYED HOME.” azula’s just like “what the fuck?!??!??!”

#sokka and azula's petty highschool rivalry the saga #azula #sokka #zuko #azula&sokka #azula&zuko #sokkaxzuko #asks #anon #modern au

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neworleansspecial · 3 years

Text

I Never Thought of Myself as Mean (I Always Thought that I’d be the Queen) | Letters!AU

Summary: Ava tells her side of the story

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Murder, Suicidal Ideation

My name is Ava Bekker. I was a cardiothoracic surgeon with Chicago Gaffney Medical Center for a few years, but I had that taken away from me just like everything else. I write this letter not to instill pity, nor fear, but to express my side of the story because all anyone ever heard was that of the people who did this to me in the first place. Nothing I did could stop them from holding that over my head.

I write this letter also at the advisory of Dr. Sarah Reese, should that be of concern to anyone who reads it; my dearest Sarah wanted me to tell my side in hopes of bringing me some sense of closure, or perhaps catharsis, about the trauma which I faced at the hands of the Rhodes men. I do believe her timid assistant, Miss Sexton, only agreed for the purposes of publishing and analyzing my literature. I am sure edits will be made to my retelling to make it more palatable to the audience, though I will write things as they happened for this exact reason.

It occurs to me that my version of events will likely never become public in the way the story of those who victimized me is. It was published across thousands of news sites the way I allegedly brutalized Connor and Cornelius Rhodes, but not a single one asked me whether or not they got what was coming to them.

There are also fictionalized versions of the events. Some publishings said that I gutted Cornelius Rhodes like a fish, which is simply untrue. Reading the coroner’s report alone disproves that. It was Connor who died a bloody death, and even then, I showed him much more mercy than he deigned to show me. I will not bore the reader with such details now, as this is my side, and I intend to tell it chronologically.

I know that Connor never wanted me in Gaffney. The first thing Dr. Latham told him, even prior to the passing of Connor’s mentor, Dr. Downey, was that I would have been his choice for a fellow. I joined Med shortly thereafter from my position in South Africa. To be honest, I took the position for the raise it gave me. I made much more as a heart surgeon in a premiere Chicago hospital than I did in a small South African hospital. I didn’t care about who would replace me. I just wanted the money, and I wanted change. I have always been good at what I do, and I think Connor resented me for being better at this than he was. He hated that I was better than him. He hated that I was better liked than him. He hated that I was prettier than him.

Before my arrival, I was aware of the reputation he had. It persisted even in my presence. He slept around, with women and men alike, and he was viewed as being pretty. It was the blue eyes and the dark hair, I think, that made him so “classically beautiful” and earned him the attention he received. Patients and their families flirted with him as well as our coworkers. After I arrived, however, much of this attention was redirected toward me. It is not that I wanted, or even liked, this attention, but merely that I received it in lieu of him once I settled into my role as a CT surgeon at his side.

We performed many surgeries together, Connor and I; some things are easier with two sets of hands. He never listened to me in such cases. I was the lead surgeon more often, but he chose to ignore my instructions and advice, if he did not try to overtake my leadership altogether. I think he may have been unable to relinquish control to a woman, particularly one he was attracted to.

I do not claim his attraction as a facet of narcissism, but as a statement of fact. As I continue on, my evidence will become clear and one will understand how I know he found me, if nothing else, pretty enough to put his hands on. His father did to. The apple did not fall far from the tree with the Rhodes men, though Connor would deny such a thing. He did until his deathbed, after all. They were both narcissists and power-assertive rapists, a term I’ve read much about in my incarceration.

I’ve found myself reading near constantly since my arrest, primarily about trauma and psychology. I’ve read about myself. People have written papers on how I was able to “hide” a personality disorder, and the way I likely killed before, and I’ve read each one. Those who have never even come within ten feet of me claim to know me, and attempt to explain my behavior as a facet of mental illness rather than trauma.

I’ve debated myself whether Connor is a power-assertive or an anger-retaliatory rapist, though I’ve settled on power-assertive. He always hated me, of course, but he did not attack me as a method of punishment. He did it because he could, just as his father did. I read several pieces of literature about it, and watched old news recordings of Captain Olivia Benson from New York City. I wanted to understand them, though I know now I will not be able to get inside their heads enough to truly understand why they did what they did.

When I was a child, I was attacked similarly. I was eleven years old, I was scared, and I did not understand what had happened to me. I repressed the memory for a long time, and it is only recently that I have begun to remember it. There lies another thing to be angry and hurt about.

Connor and I were friends, if nothing else, for a little while. I liked him enough to not want him to leave, out of a fear that someone worse would take his place. He hated me, and then he realized his attraction to me outweighed his ego, and we reached a peace of sorts. I did not prefer his company even then, but I did learn to tolerate it, and became used to him. I do struggle with change, and always have, so I suppose I wanted to cling to the evil I knew. I knew what to expect from Connor. Or at least, at that point in time, I thought I did. While I knew how he felt about me, it never occurred to me that he may do something as vile as what he did.

Twice.

We were friends, though. Not close, but close enough, and when he was shot down on the hybrid OR due to funding and planned on taking the job at the Mayo Clinic, I did not want him to leave. As such, I stepped into his world, and that led me to his father, Cornelius Rhodes.

I had met Cornelius on perhaps one or two occasions prior, and he was the only person I knew with the funds to pay for Connor’s hybrid OR. I had hoped to convince him by reminding him how much he loved his son, and perhaps repairing their damaged bond for my benefit. I can admit, such a task was manipulative, but it was all I knew to do at the time, and as such, I tried. I dressed up nice and tried to do the right thing. I wanted to help Connor.

There was nothing nice or helpful, of course, about being pushed up against a desk and having my dress yanked up my thighs.

I would like to say that I struggled, but the truth is quite simply that I froze. I have read a lot about this phenomenon- the third survival instinct, beyond fight or flight- and learned that I am not the only one it has happened to. I could not move. I could not think. I could not breathe. My memory of the event remains hazy but I remember that it hurt, and he left bruises on my body that made me vomit every time I saw them. I hated what had happened to me, and I wanted to die.

I thought about killing myself, at first. My body, my soul, felt tainted by what had happened to me. I felt like I let it happen because I didn’t, couldn’t, fight him off. When I told my lawyer, I was asked why I never reported, but the truth is that I tried. I told Will Halstead’s brother, the only police officer I knew and believed I might be able to trust, and he sat me down with a very stern look on his face.

“Those accusations could ruin Mr. Rhodes’ life,” he said to me. “Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked me. “It’s not worth it to do a rape kit,” he told me. “You’re being overdramatic,” he informed me. He never made a formal report, nor did he pass this information on to his coworkers or superiors, and I felt humiliated for having to relive one of the worst things to ever happen to me, only to be berated for allowing it. When I was done speaking with Det. Halstead, I felt even worse than before and knew that no one would ever be willing to hear my side of the story.

Cornelius did not leave me alone after that. He sent me flowers. The moment I saw them, I knew I would never be able to escape what happened to me. I refused to leave Gaffney, however, because it did not seem fair to me that I should have to give up everything I ever worked for because of something that was out of my hands. It only got worse from there, but let it be said that I tried so hard to survive this and make it out unscathed.

I had nightmares where it happened again. The same scenario, the same rape, over and over again whenever I shut my eyes for longer than a blink. I could not forget it, and it was exacerbated by Connor’s eyes and his voice. He was so much like his father that I could hardly stand it anymore, but I still wanted things to be alright. I tried, day in and day out, to keep moving forward in time when it felt like my body wanted to sink into the earth like quick sand.

Then there was the gala, the one where Cornelius claimed I slept with him to get him to pay for the OR, and Connor punched him but he believed him. He had looked at me with that same arrogance in his eyes like he knew no one would ever believe me about what truly happened. I heard his voice calling me a whore all over again. I felt his hands on my body. My cheeks burned and my eyes stung and I wanted to die rather than live through this.

That is the first time Connor attacked me.

We were leaving, and I felt both exhausted and embarrassed on top of the pure terror that comes with reliving something like that. Of course, Connor was angry with me. He believed his father that I willingly slept with him. He didn’t want to hear that his father raped me, or that it happened because I was trying to do something nice for him. All he wanted to hear was that I had betrayed him. We were quiet in his car for about half the drive before he started yelling at me.

I didn’t invite him up to my apartment, but he came anyways. He followed me. When we were alone, he pushed me up against my door and put his hand on my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I knew was panic, and I tried to scratch at his hands to get them off of me, but nothing worked. He was stronger than me, and angrier.

He dragged me all the way to my bed and pushed me down. He tore my clothes off me and laughed at me for trying to cover my body with my hands. Connor pinned my wrists with his hands and my thighs with his knees and he assaulted me. I looked at the clock while he did, so I didn’t have to look at him, and it took hours for him to be finished violating me. I think it was. I remember it being around 10 when he started, and around 2 in the morning when I was able to move again. He was getting redressed and I saw my blood on the sheets. I curled up on the mattress and tried not to be sick. It was all I could do not to add to the mess. He did not say anything before he left

I chose not to report it this time, since they were so helpful when Cornelius attacked me. No one would believe me. Once I could move again, as painful as it was, I crawled to the shower and turned it on as hot as I could possibly manage without scalding myself. Then I took my scrub and ferociously attacked my skin with it, desperate to erase any and all traces of Connor on my body. I didn’t want to feel him anymore. I could smell his cologne, feel his hands, feel his lips still on my skin. I wanted him gone.

The next three days, I called out of work. I could not face the world, and certainly not Connor, after being brutalized a second time. I did not know that he would try once more, only that I was hurt and afraid and so uncomfortable in my own skin that it burned with every movement I made. At that time, I could not bear to return to my bed, so I stayed in the bathtub, shivering, until the sun rose the next morning and I could crawl out of the plaster. I spent those three days wallowing, unsure how to carry on.

Connor acted like nothing ever happened.

I did too, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do, but I was never the same afterwards. I could not stand the way his voice sounded, or the feel of his hands on my skin in a million casual touches carefully orchestrated to make me lose my mind entirely. I hated him. I was terrified of him. I wanted him dead.

That is not when I decided to kill Connor, however, and it was not even when I decided to kill Cornelius. At that point I was just scared. My decision to take back my courage and my sense of self was made much later on.

I began to hate myself in the aftermath of what Connor did to me. I had allowed myself to be assaulted twice, or at least, it seemed I had allowed it, and I could no longer trust myself to do anything. What kind of weakling must I have been? How stupid? I trudged on. I wanted to die, though I was too much of a coward to commit to it. Connor never mentioned what he did, and in fact continued to flirt with me and make comments about my inability as a surgeon compared to him. No one paid attention to my flinches when his hand touched my back or the way I cringed from the sound of his voice.

Some three months later, Cornelius was hospitalized and placed in my care because of a heart problem. As I looked after him, he talked about his memories of hurting me, and how lovely he found the sweat on my skin against his hands when he held me down. That was when I finally decided I had had enough.

It was not an impulse decision to kill Cornelius, though it was for Connor. I wanted this vile man off the face of the Earth. I waited for the right time, found an extra dose of insulin, and made to shoot him up with it. Unfortunately, this insulin had a contamination that could be traced back to me, something I did not find out until later.

After his father’s death, Connor confronted me with his accusations. He was correct, of course, but I lied to him and turned the tables back toward him. It would be beautiful for him to be imprisoned for my murder of his father. One rapist dead. One behind bars. I craved it, but I was too late. They would know it was me in a matter of hours.

I tried to run. I could return to South Africa, or make a home for myself in Brazil, or any number of things. I would need to pack a bag quick, draw cash quicker. It occurred to me that I did not have much time, if I had any at all, but I still made for an empty operating room to breathe and figure out my next step.

Unfortunately, Connor followed me.

He shoved me, hard, towards the surgical tray and put his hand around my throat just like he had when he hurt me. I panicked. Though he was not choking me nearly as hard, I couldn’t breathe past the memory of what he did. His free hand found the waistband of my scrubs and I knew he would do it all over again. So I did what I had to. It was my only choice.

I picked up the scalpel and slid it into his chest, dragging it and pulling to rip his torso open like he ripped open my soul. His hands fell from my body and his body hit the floor. He was still alive, frantically pressing down on the wound and gasping for breath when I did it again, across his stomach this time. Then I did the only logical thing. I made sure he would never even think about hurting me again. I pulled down his scrubs, though such an act made me gag, and I castrated him. He screamed, then. If people weren’t on their way before, they were then, and I knew I would not be able to escape. Connor’s final act as the light began to fade from his eyes was to ensure I would never be free of him. I would never be able to forget what he did.

When the police found me, I was laying next to his body, covered in his blood. I was laughing. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was the fact that I would never have to face either of the Rhodes men again. Maybe I knew my life would be spent in a cage. Or I just lost what few pieces of myself were left, and some sad, hurting, angry thing in a fit of laughter was all that was left.

I told my lawyer everything, but no one believed me, just as they did not believe me when it all happened in the first place. My rapes were never brought up in trial, only my responses. When I tried to make the claim, I was objected to. They shut me up. Dead men’s reputations were more important than my freedom.

The few friends I had all abandoned me. Not one of them wanted to hear what I endured. All they cared about was the murders, and then, only of the victims and not why I did it. Until Sarah, no one cared at all.

I still wonder if Sarah even cares, or if she merely means to profit off my suffering.

#sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #chicago med #emwrite #letters!au #usercj #crockettstiddies

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writeyouin · 4 years

Note

Hey there, wanted to know if I could get some scenarios of how ratchet, ravage, swerve, and cygate would handle if their human s/o found an abandoned baby and was instantly overcome with motherly instincts. Mama bear mode activated

Transformers MTMTE-LL Reader Insert Drabbles - Baby

A/N – All baby girls in the fic today cos I’m biased.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Ratchet

Ratchet stared at you and the small child swaddled in your arms. He had felt bad when he had to work again instead of joining you on the visit to the space port. Now, he regretted not going, because he would have handed the child over to the authorities instead of bringing it aboard like it was his own sparkling.

“(Y/N), please tell me that you aren’t planning to keep this child. What about the original owners?”

“The parents,” You emphasized the word as if it burned your tongue, “abandoned this baby in an alley, with a note, claiming anyone could take her. I mean, who does that? So now, I’m going to be her parent, aren’t I Evie?” You addressed the child. “Yes, I am and I won’t ever abandon you, will I?”

Ratchet glared at you, trying to keep his voice low when he spoke so as not to scare the child. “(Y/N), we cannot keep her. You have to take her back. This is no place for a baby.”

“And why not? She’s not going to cause any trouble here Ratchet, and she needs a family.”

“Of course she needs a family, but it’s not going to be us.”

“Don’t you want to start a family with me?”

“No,” Ratchet hissed. “(Y/N), you are my Conjunx and you had better understand me here. This is not our child. She will never be our child. This was somebody else’s and we will take her back.”

“Ratchet, if you think that I am ever leaving this baby-”

“THIS WON’T MAKE UP FOR THE ONE WE LOST!”

At that point the baby in your arms started crying and you turned all your attention to calming her, “Shh, shh, oh, it’s okay Evie. Your daddy is just working through some issues, he didn’t mean to shout. There, there.”

“I am not her father.”

“Ratchet,” Your stare bore into him, “We are married and this is my child now. You either get on board with this or we are going to have a serious discussion about our future. Now, I would storm out, but Evie needs a health check, so once you’ve given her the all clear, then I will leave.”

No more was said over the matter. Ratchet still didn’t want the child and clearly, he would have to convince you that keeping her was the worst idea for the two of you. The last baby, an accidental clone of you from one of the younger scientists, had been another surprise that Ratchet hadn’t wanted. He hadn’t said so at the time as he could see how you would feel responsible for that one; all the same, while he had never wanted to be a father, he also never wanted the child to die in that unspeakable accident. The Lost Light was no place for a child, and Ratchet hoped he could make you see that before you got hurt again.

After Ratchet had given the baby a thorough medical check, finding that she was perfectly healthy, he started up the argument with you again. It didn’t matter what he said, you simply weren’t listening.

Finally, after a full-on shouting match in which Ratchet regretted most of what he said, he roared at you to get out. It seemed that he would be in no mood to go back to your shared hab-suite for a while, at least until you came to your senses.

While Ratchet expected you to give in, and realise he was right, you waited for him to do the same. Days turned into weeks and Ratchet still hadn’t returned to the hab-suite, nor you to the medical bay.

Although Ratchet didn’t venture out from the med-bay, he heard stories from the bots that came in about how Evie had become something of a ship-mascot and treasure. Every-time she so much as waved her arms or gurgled a spit bubble, Rodimus added another cuddly Rodimus star to her collection.

Even knowing of the rift between the two of you, most bots tried to bring Ratchet around to their way of thinking by pretending they didn’t know about the fight and saying, “You must be one proud bot, having a sparkling so great,” upon finishing their medical evaluations.

Finally, Ratchet couldn’t take it anymore. His spark ached from yearning and sadness and yet he felt in his mind he was right, and no matter what, he would not be a parent. He stomped his way through the ship to the hab-suite he hadn’t seen since the fight. Ready to argue his point further, he stepped inside, instantly deflating at the sight that met him.

You were asleep on the berth, with Evie sleeping atop your chest; the two of you clearly exhausted from the day’s activities. Ratchet sat down in a nearby chair, watching the two of you. He had no idea how much a baby could grow in a month, and yet here it was in front of him.

Staying there for a while, seeing how peaceful the two of you were, Ratchet sighed.

‘Primus,’ He thought, ‘I’m not a praying mech, but… I hope I’m a better creator than my mine was. I’ll need to be here for this child… For Evie.’

Indeed, he hadn’t ever wanted to be a parent, but if Ratchet could be better than those who raised him, then maybe everything would be alright.

Ravage

Ravage sniffed the tiny fledgling in the basket in which you had found it and brought it aboard.

“What is it?” He asked, his tail lashing in frustration as the creature reached out its tiny fists to touch him.

“She is a human, like me,” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ravage didn’t like that tone, nor did he like your infatuation with the small human; you hadn’t taken your eyes off it since bringing it aboard.

“Is it deformed?”

That earned him a glare from you, “No.”

He glanced at you then back to her, realisation finally drawing on him, “Oh, so it’s a Minibot then. Smaller and weaker… What happened to its vocaliser? Why doesn’t it say something?”

You supressed a smile at Ravage’s unwitting ignorance, “Ravage, this isn’t a Minibot. This is a baby, you know, like a sparkling?”

“This is how you start off? No wonder you need me to protect you all the time.”

“Keep talking like that, see where it gets you in this relationship.”

Ravage hissed, making the baby cry with the sound.

“Ravage, you can’t make noises like that around the baby, you’re scaring her.”

Ravage glared at you as you picked the tiny human up, swaddling her in a blanket and soothing her. He hated not being the centre of attention where you were concerned.

“Fine,” He spat, keeping the growl out of his voice, “Tell me everything about your new toy so I won’t accidentally break it.”

It had taken some time for Ravage to understand everything to do with the human sparkling but he finally felt that he could take care of it, if he so wished.

While you were occupied, Ravage strutted into your room carrying a sandwich in his mouth. The baby was lying on its back in the playpen you had commissioned from one of the other bots obsessed with the fleshling. You had named her Danica after the first female NASCAR driver, but Ravage much preferred to call the creature ‘Spawn of Unicron.’

Perching on the playpen rail, Ravage dropped the sandwich onto the baby’s chest.

“Eat, you little retch,” Ravage growled. “I said eat. Then you will grow and (Y/N) will be all mine again.”

The baby giggled and waved her arms.

“You milky little let-down. My hunting skill was perfect. I stole that sandwich from (Y/N) herself. Now eat it.”

Danica gurgled, sticking her fist in her mouth.

“Well,” Ravage sneered, “At least you can clean yourself without help… Wait, what is that? Is that drool? Disgusting. Ugh fine, watch me.”

Ravage started cleaning himself gracefully, watching to see if the baby would do the same. When it did not, he simply rolled his eyes; clearly the child couldn’t do anything for itself.

“You’re not really a threat, are you. Fine (Y/N) can love you and I suppose I will do my part in protecting you. Do we have an agreement, spawn of Unicron?”

Danica started blowing spit-bubbles, entertaining herself in her own manner. Ravage merely scoffed and laid down outside the playpen; until the child learned to stop drooling, there was no way he would get any closer to her.

Swerve

“Let’s keep her,” You said, upon finding the abandoned child in the alley.

“What?” Swerve sputtered, gobsmacked by your suggestion.

“Why not?” You asked, picking the child up and checking her temperature. “We were talking about trying soon, so… Well, we can’t leave her here, and this planet doesn’t have a whole lot of humans and, Swerve, I just-” You looked at him for the first time since finding the baby, “I can’t leave her.”

“Will she- I mean- What should we call her? How long will it take her to walk? Do you think we should make Skids the Godfather? Primus, who will be Godmother? What items does she need? Don’t tell the others that, only me. I’m her dad now so I want to make the furniture? Scrap, where do we get baby formula? Argh, I just swore in front of our child.”

From that very rant, you knew Swerve was going to be a great father.

“Okay… Can you think of anything else we need to babyproof?” Swerve asked, looking at the new layout of the hab-suite.

“Nope, we crushed it,” You answered happily.

“You hear that, Nova? This is your new home.” Swerve picked up the baby from the sock drawer you were keeping her in until the cot was ready. Upon being disturbed Nova started crying. “Oh no, don’t cry. I’m sorry. (Y/N), what do I do?”

“It’s okay Swerve, just keep calm and rock her gently. She’s probably just over-tired.”

“(Y/N), please take her. I need to see how this works.”

Swerve handed you the baby, watching closely to learn how to handle her.

“Alright, so this is how you calm her,” You said, using the techniques you had picked up on Earth whenever a family member or friend asked you to babysit. Eventually, Nova stopped crying and you smiled, “See, it’s just a matter of practice.”

“Oh… Okay. Yeah, I can do this. Hey, will she be needing her crib now?”

“Yeah, as soon as we can get that and the other stuff, we’ll be all set.”

“Great, then I’ll be just a few minutes. I built them earlier, so it’s just a matter of collection.”

Swerve hurriedly left and you smiled to yourself, “See that, Nova? Your daddy is having a freak out. Come on, we’ll start walking to the labs. By the time we get there on our tiny legs, he should have calmed down.”

Swerve vented air through his system, trying to cool down. He wondered how he could be a good parent if he didn’t even know how to calm his new child down. Primus, he would be terrible at this. How long would it be before you realised that he was no good for you and Nova before you left him? He bet it wouldn’t be long at all. After all, humans were so different than Cybertronians; he couldn’t possibly be any good for a human baby.

Swerve slumped against the lab walls, looking at all he had built for the child. All the designs had come from the Earth’s internet, but he had painted them with things from both your planet and his. Looking at his work, Swerve thought of all the pros and cons of him being the child’s adoptive parent; that imaginary list held a lot of cons.

Eventually, the door swished open and Swerve busied himself, pretending to check over the items.

“Hey sweetie,” You greeted upon entering the room. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Swerve laughed anxiously, “I’m doing great. Life couldn’t be better. I’m just late back because I was looking at this crib and I was wondering, does it look rickety to you, because to me it looks rickety, so what do you think?”

“I think you’re freaking out.”

Swerve stared at you, ashamed that you had seen right through him. “I’m sorry. I just- I love Nova and I want to be a good parent, but what if I’m not? What if I screw up and she grows up to hate me? I’ve never been a parent and I’m scared. There’s so much that could go wrong.”

“Swerve, it’ okay to be scared. I’m scared too. This is hardly a normal place to raise a child. Anything could happen, but as long as we have each other, I know we’ll do great. All we can do is love Nova and show her that every day. If we do that, we’ll do great. So, do you want to come back to the suite and help set up the nursery?”

Swerve pulled you into a hug, being careful not to disturb Nova. “Let’s take our baby home,” He whispered.

You kissed his cheek, “That’s my Conjunx.”

Cygate

“So, what do you think?” You asked Tailgate and Cyclonus, having explained to them how you had come by a human baby. There was only one acceptable answer from the pair, but you hoped they wouldn’t make you choose between them and your new daughter.

Tailgate’s frame started shaking with excitement, and Cyclonus had to hold him back before he tackled you and the child in a hug.

“Careful,” Cyclonus warned. “The baby is more delicate than even (Y/N).”

Tailgate tried to take the warning into consideration, remembering when you had agreed to a polyamorous relationship with him and Cyclonus; he had hugged you so hard that it broke your arm and three ribs. Although he always tried to be more careful now, he still found it hard to restrain himself sometimes.

“WHAT DO WE THINK?” Tailgate exclaimed. “THIS IS AMAZING. YOU HAVE A SPARKLING- NO, WE HAVE A SPARKLING. Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy. I can’t wait to teach her to play catch. And we can watch shows together and read to her, and Cyclonus can teach her to sing. WE ARE GONNA BE THE BEST CREATORS IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.”

You had to laugh at Tailgate’s enthusiasm, but you didn’t let it escape your attention that Cyclonus had yet to say how he felt.

“We can keep her, right Cyclonus?” Tailgate asked what you had been too afraid to.

Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate. You were the only two people he had ever loved in all of his long life, and it had taken a long time for him to open his spark to you and let himself be vulnerable. Did he really have room in his spark for a third person? It seemed that you and Tailgate were full of nothing but love, but Cyclonus knew he wasn’t like that, and knowing so scared him.

He looked at the sleeping child nestled in your arms. She was so tiny. Delicate features graced her face, and such a young being could only be innocent and pure. Cyclonus was neither innocent or pure. He had a dark past which he would always be haunted by. While it was true that you and Tailgate had helped to heal his inner scars, he knew they could so easily be reopened if he wasn’t careful.

Did such a precious child really deserve such a bad role model? Cyclonus wasn’t sure of the answer to that. Perhaps he would be a terrible creator and only serve to dampen the baby’s future, but maybe, just maybe, he could heal even further with her to care for.

Swallowing his fear, Cyclonus looked at you and Tailgate, and with some effort he said, “She needs a name.”

Tailgate punched the air, crushing Cyclonus in a hug afterwards, “YESSS. WHAT ABOUT AUTOCLAVE, OR CAMBER, OOH CHICANE- NO, RUMBLESTRIP.”

“How about a name from Earth?” Cyclonus suggested, looking to you for an answer.

You considered the question for a moment, knowing full well that Cyclonus didn’t want a Cybertronian name that might remind him of his past. “Okay, what about… Penelope?”

“Penelope…” Tailgate sounded out the word in his vocaliser.

“Yeah, she’s blonde like Penelope Pitstop and one day, she’ll be one hell of a driver.”

“I don’t know who this Pitstop person is, but I like the sound of Penelope. What do you think Cyclonus?”

Cyclonus gave a small smile, “I think she’s perfect.”

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