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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

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someday soon

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is having hope for the future'

rated t | 1,237 words | cw: ptsd, injury recovery, negative view of self (Steve) | tags: angst with a happy ending, getting together, hurt/comfort, falling in love

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Steve ignored his bat bites for too long.

That's what all the doctors and nurses said when he'd been rushed into the ER by Robin, panicked when he passed out and woke up with very little memory of what they'd done that day.

She assumed it was the concussions catching up to him, but it turned out to be a hell of an infection. The infection had spread from the worst bite on his side to his hip and down his leg. They caught it in time to save the leg, but it would be weak for months, if not years, and he'd need to do physical therapy to keep the muscle dense enough to walk.

Everyone was pissed at him, but mostly just happy he was finally getting taken care of. That was a difficult thing for him.

Eddie joked that it was his turn to keep him company in the hospital now, but Steve wasn't up for jokes. Not when he'd become such a burden. Not when he was pulling attention from things and people that actually needed it. He was using up resources that were already barely available for people much worse off than him.

When he was finally fever-free, showing signs of improvement, and promising to keep taking the antibiotics for two more weeks, he was set free. Eddie and Robin brought him to Eddie's trailer to ensure he would actually take care of himself, and he didn't have the heart to argue with either of them.

He felt ridiculous, every single time he got stuck on the couch because his leg was too numb to stand, every time Wayne would grab whatever thing he couldn't quite reach from the top shelf of the cabinet because he couldn't stand on both of his tip toes, whenever Eddie would half-carry him to the shower and wait by the door in case he fell on his bad days. It was all so stupid. He was stupid.

He spent his days doing what he was supposed to, but only the bare minimum. He did the exercises, but only alone in Eddie's room while he was busy at work or picking up Steve's slack. He took the meds when he was in pain instead of "suffering in silence" like Robin told him to. He packed Wayne's lunches for work as a thank you for letting him stay even though Wayne always insisted he didn't need to do anything to deserve a roof over his head and people to care.

He ignored the stupid churning in his stomach that started when he thought about what would happen when Eddie brought him back to his empty house. He ignored the butterflies every time Eddie got home while he was faking sleep on the couch and covered him with the blanket that was by his feet. He ignored the way his heart fluttered every time Eddie would make him the tea he secretly liked instead of the coffee he normally forced himself to drink.

He pretended that the love that grew in his chest was made up, that Eddie was only doing what any friend would do.

Steve only let his imagination run away with him on the nights when Eddie was at Hellfire late, when he was curled up in Eddie's bed at Eddie's insistence that he sleep there. He let himself picture a future like this: waiting up for Eddie to get home from work or a show, curled up with a pillow that smelled like him against his chest, wearing a t-shirt that had holes from being worn too much, and the mixtape Eddie made for Steve playing low in the background.

It was a perfect future.

He fell asleep to the thought of Eddie's arms around him, holding him because he wanted to, not because he had to.

He woke up to Eddie's arms around him, the dark and silent room around him making him panic until Eddie's grip tightened and he pulled him closer.

"You awake?" Eddie whispered against the top of his head.

"Yeah." Steve didn't pull away, couldn't make himself even though the alarms were going off in his brain telling him to put space between them before Eddie realized what this meant to him. "When'd you get back?"

"Hour ago maybe. Didn't mean to run so late, sorry," Eddie's fingers were tracing patterns up and down his spine.

"It's okay. You can do whatever you want," Steve let himself have this moment. He nudged his face further into Eddie's shirt, smiling at the warmth of his chest. "You sleep at all yet?"

"No, I was busy."

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Watching you."

Steve turned his head so he was looking up at him. "Watching me sleep? Why the hell were you doing that?"

He should probably sound more upset, maybe more concerned about being watched while he was unconscious. But a pretty big part of him was fine with it, wanted it, hoped it meant more to Eddie too.

"The corner of your mouth twitches a lot in your sleep, did you know that? And when you're in pain or having a nightmare, it stops. Sometimes I just watch to make sure you're sleeping okay," he answered simply. "Been at least a few nights since you've had any nightmares right?"

Steve nodded, speechless at the fact that Eddie had noticed something like that.

"You curl the blanket in your hand when you sleep, too. Or my shirt. Sometimes your own shirt if you can't find anything else," Eddie continued.

Steve felt his fingers loosen in Eddie's shirt, not having noticed the way they'd been holding on for dear life this entire time.

Eddie's hand covered his, squeezing something that felt like reassurance and love right into his skin.

"You're not the same Steve you used to be, but you still worry about what people think. You can just be you. Just be Steve. I promise the Steve you are is the Steve we love," Eddie smiled down at him.

"I-" Steve took a breath. "I just don't wanna ruin it all."

"Stevie, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head. "You couldn't ruin it. When are you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that we're all stickin' this out with you?"

"But you don't have to."

"No, we don't." Eddie squeezed his hand again. "But we do. And we will."

"Even if I'm always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Recovering. Having nightmares. Scared. Robin says I might be depressed? I'm probably gonna limp forever."

"Stevie, look at me," Eddie said, tilting his face back towards him. Steve hadn't even realized he'd turned away so much. "I love you. Okay?"

"You do?"

"Do you think I notice what other people's lips do when they're sleeping?"

Steve snorted. "No, I guess not."

"I love you and sometimes that might mean I have to deal with your shit, but I want to, okay? It won't always be this much shit. I can hold your hand through it," Eddie smiled. "Now, you should go back to sleep."

"You didn't kiss me yet," Steve said around a yawn.

"We've got plenty of time for it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."

Steve believed him.

He knew it would still be shit. He knew he wouldn't always believe what Eddie said. He knew he'd still feel like a burden.

But they had time to wade through it together.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is having hope for the future #angst with a happy ending #established relationship #hurt/comfort #injury recovery #ptsd

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wildlife4life · 5 months

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Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the always lovely and amazing, @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @daffi-990 @elvensorceress and @bigfootsmom Thank you all so much and I'm super excited for all your upcoming works!

Last night ya'll... I'm still reeling and pinching myself because the whole Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce lyric change and kiss! OMG! So in honor of my favorite player basically winning on his bye week, I have unpaused from NFL Buck and bring you this.

Buck's first in season game back from his leg injury had every nay sayer and Watson advocator go silent. 432 passing yards, 45 rushing, 4 touchdowns, and a solid 32-10 win over Aaron Rodger's Green Bay Packers. Astonishing. A fairy tail ending from a horrible beginning. It took every fiber of Eddie's learned military patience and control to hold himself back from running down to the field and personally congratulate Evan. "Squeeze him extra tight for me." He told Maddie, before she stepped off the elevator towards the family waiting area. Eddie adjusted his grip on a sleepy Christopher and watch his reflection slide in with the closing doors. "He won daddy. With his bad leg." Christopher murmured in his shoulder. "I knew he would." The smile that had fallen earlier at the reminder of Eddie and Evan's closeted situation, returned hearing his son's bright optimism. "Never a doubt mijo." Later, in the privacy of their own home, Eddie stared up at the red door canvas photo that gave them their beginning. 'Just walk in.' A motto Buck took to heart during his recovery. Just walk into the doctor's office, you won't know what the prognosis is until you do. Just walk into physical therapy, even if you think there is no point. Just walk into team locker room, you and the team need you in there. Just walk into the stadium, show them all Evan Buckley is the starting quarterback. Just walk in the front door and kiss the man you keep hidden, but loves you so much that he values the reasons to stay hidden. Just walk in. And Evan continues to do so. He walks in their front door. Eddie turns to him, steps forward, throws his arms around those broad shoulders, and kisses him like he wanted at the stadium. All consuming, filled with love, and oh so damn proud.

Hehehehehehehe. YES I am giddy through and through, and I hope you all enjoyed! All things NFL Buck can be found here.

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @ladydorian05 @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @hoodie-buck @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

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the-24-7-lawlu-library · 2 months

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Poll Vote Hurt & Comfort

Hello lovely readers <3

Here is our Poll Vote post, there are so many great Hurt & Comfort fanfic with them, we picked out some of them for you.

Have a great weekend and enjoy reading <3

across the distance (M) by Tciddaemina

Law and Bepo have just finished charting a new course when Law feel's Luffy's heart begin to race. He lets out a breath, ignoring it, and finishes looking over the last of the calculations, giving Bepo a final nod and stepping away, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he steps out the door onto the deck. He leans against the rail, lighting up, and brings the cigarette to his lips, inhaling. He feels Luffy's heart skip a beat. The racing slows, tempo lowing again back to normal rates, and Law almost huffs and ignores it entirely, except then Luffy's heart rate continues to drop, and it doesn't stop. It hits his resting heart rate and then keeps falling, plummeting rapidly. Law sucks in a sharp breath, stomach dropping, one hand clutching at his chest as he stops so fast he almost staggers, because fuck, something is happening- - Luffy is dying, and Law is half an ocean away, too far to help.

Will You Share Your Emotions Under The Moon? (G) byDoodle4Noodle

A Satellite Far from the Sun cosmicatta T """How stupid. You are the Sun and I’m no more than a distant satellite trapped in your orbit."" Law sees sunshine at midnight, learns how to dance (kind of), and finds out where he truly belongs within the solar system. All before daybreak." 3,02 2023 complete

Not about the free lunch (T) by chenziee

There were a lot of things Luffy wanted to tell Law but right now, looking at the blood dripping from the hastily patched up wound on Law's arm, there was only one thing on his mind.

A Satellite Far from the Sun (T) by cosmicatta

"How stupid. You are the Sun and I’m no more than a distant satellite trapped in your orbit." Law sees sunshine at midnight, learns how to dance (kind of), and finds out where he truly belongs within the solar system. All before daybreak.

Dead Defend No Honour (G) by KhepiAri

What if Luffy found out, Law lost it all at the hands of Blackbeard? Will he let Law suffer alone, or will he drag him back to Sunny?

what fate wants (T) by frogsterz

“What do they mean?” Luffy blinks round eyes up at him, his hair dripping water down his face. Law wavers between answering him honestly, because lying to Luffy feels like a crime against humanity, and keeping his dark, sordid past to himself. “It’s a heart,” he deflects. “You have many hearts,” Luffy observes. He pokes his right arm. “Are they for someone you loved?” (What Luffy wants is what fate wants. Law will realise this firsthand, whether he wants to or not.)

Your Heart, Broken in My Chest (T) by purplehairedwonder

Luffy was far from an expert at having someone else’s heart in his chest, but he was pretty sure what was happening with Torao’s heart wasn’t normal. Written for 10 Days of LawLu 2023 Day 8: Hurt/Comfort

Breathe (T) by CheshireSense

Luffy never told Ace, and he probably won't tell Sabo either, but he's never really liked fire. Or, the one where even Luffy has his bad days. Law understands.

If You Need Me, I Will (G) by BasicallyACat

Luffy can't find the words to describe all the things he feels, couldn't say them even if he found them. He knows people don't understand him usually and doesn't really mind. His nakama understand and that is all that matters. When he meets Law, suddenly there are far too many things to say even when he can't and Luffy prays Law can understand anyways.

scarred but not beyond repair (T) by marimoes

Across the room, Law grumbles in his sleep. A sharp inhaling of air sucks in through his lips and it nearly sounds pained. Like he’s been hit, and Luffy jumps up at once on alert—but finds nothing. As he creeps closer, Luffy watches Law's left hand start to dig at his bandages.

-Mod Raiya

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wangxianficrecs · 3 months

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ordinary people by dcuros

ordinary people

by dcuros

M, WIP, 9k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS WIP Bang

Summary: What if Wei Ying was never found by Jiang Fengmian? - Wei Ying is a simple villager, farmer by day and hunter by night. One night, he finds an injured boy in the forest. Kay's comments: A super cute story where Wei Wuxian grows up as a simple farmer and encounters Lan Wangji after he got hurt on a night-hunt and then promptly nurses him back to health. I love Wangxian's relationship in this, so cute and funny and also just so sweet. Excerpt: “Lan-gongziiii~,” he whined during lunchtime when his stories drew no reaction once again. “Come on! Talk to me! What have you been doing?” To his surprise, Lan Wangji set down his chopsticks and said, “Speaking is forbidden during meals.” He promptly resumed eating again, although a slight furrow had appeared on his brow. Finally, a reaction! Wei Ying wasn’t about to let go now. “No speaking at all, gongzi? Who said that? What if the situation was life or death? If there was an axe murderer was behind me? You wouldn’t say a word, Lan-gongzi? You’d let me die?” He jutted his lips out in an exaggerated pout. Lan Wangji merely raised an eyebrow at him, one that suggested that he would be the one swinging the axe if Wei Ying kept talking. “Aiyaaa! You would! And after all we’ve been through!” Wei Ying wailed, his own food now forgotten. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye and sobbed. “You really would! You’d let me die of boredom, Lan-gongzi! This is how you treat me after all those nights we spent together.” “I–” Lan Wangji started, but his words seemed to catch in his throat. He glared at his bowl, still half-full, and clenched his chopsticks tight enough to turn his grip white. After a moment’s pause, his grip relaxed and he breathed deeply. He spoke, “I apologize, Wei-xiansheng. I am… unused to this.”

pov wei wuxian, canon era, canon divergence, injury, injury recovery, cultivastion sect politics, non-yunmeng wei wuxian, hurt lan wangji, caring wei wuxian, getting to know each other, different first meeting, domestic fluff, developing relationship, fluff and angst

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 days

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Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 16/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered.

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted.

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked.

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could.

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned.

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher.

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake.

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked.

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned.

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked.

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.”

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?”

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase.

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked.

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded.

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything.

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.”

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied.

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked.

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned.

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.”

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles. A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes. My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.”

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 15 days

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Fine is a Four-Letter Word (Chapter One)

Summary: This is Part Twenty-Two of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Injury Recovery, Trauma Recovery, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Family Feels, Team as Family, Road Trip, Kissing, Romance, Mild Sexual Content, Swearing, Eventual Happy Ending

Chapter One

Monday, August 31st, 2015

Sam

Dr. Fredericks sat in the cushy armchair across from him; the picture of calm compared to Sam’s jiggling knee and hands that didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Officer Kent,” she began. That was probably supposed to be some kind of a soft lob of an opener, but god, what a loaded question.

“Well, uh—” Sam took a shaky breath. “Sergeant Platt said that, uh, the department had someone for people to talk to after—after tough calls and that I might want to consider it. And that…”

Dr. Fredericks nodded gently. “And?”

“She said that walking in on a scene like that—you saw the file, right?” Sam slumped back in relief at her nod. He knew they’d be going over it all eventually, but knowing that she’d read it made starting this conversation that much easier. “She said walking into a scene like that is hard enough, but it’s that much worse when—when your loved ones are involved. Your family.”

He swallowed hard against the painfully fresh memories of that day.

“She said it wasn’t required or anything and maybe I was fine, but, uh—” Sam gripped at the armrests of his chair, hoping that would make his hands stop shaking. “But in her experience, it could be helpful and I talked to my partners about it and we all thought it would be a good idea for me to try because—because I’m not.”

“You’re not what, Sam?” The question was asked so softly, he could almost forgive it for how thoroughly it was cracking him open.

“I’m not fine,” he choked out. “None of us are and it feels like—like we never will be again.”

“What constitutes as fine is always a bit of a moving target after a trauma like you and your family have been through,” she said.

Images of Emery in her hospital bed flashed through his brain.

Still going through, really.

“Being willing to talk about it is a good first step,” Dr. Fredericks continued. “And not an easy one, either. You might not be okay right now, Sam, but be proud of yourself for that.”

He jerked his chin in a nod, not trusting himself to speak as he let that sink in.

A first step.

One of many, probably.

Shit.

Okay.

“So, how, uh—how do we do this?”

***

Will

It was early, seven am or so, but time never really meant much in a hospital anyway. The sounds of people bustling around in the hallway was muffled slightly by the door.

And by the snores coming from Jay on the couch.

Connor had left a few minutes ago to check in on Emery. Bex was asleep in the bed beside him—a bit restless, but that was better than what he’d seen of her every time he’d woken up throughout the night. The stomach issue side effects of a concussion were hitting her hard.

Chris and Mouse were sitting in chairs beside her, talking quietly. Probably trying to make plans since she was scheduled to be discharged today.

Will was not.

And look—he was a doctor! He understood all of the hows and whys of this, but holy hell was he already tired of staying in bed and resting.

He was tired.

He was in pain which was also pissing him off.

…and he was really thirsty.

Will snuck another glance at Mouse and Chris, but they both looked exhausted and very wrapped up in their intense little conversation.

Jay was still completely sacked out.

His cup was right there on the bedside table. He knew there was water in it. Connor had poured some for him before he left.

It wasn’t that far. Will could reach it…if he stretched…carefully…just a little bit more and maybe if he twisted—

There was a little pop as a ripple of pain went through Will’s abdomen. He looked down to see a small patch of red bloom through his hospital gown.

Well, shit.

***

Jay

No one was allowed to say anything about Jay being a bad patient ever again.

Ever.

“Stay in bed means stay in bed, Dr. Halstead,” Jenna, their nurse for the day chastised Will as she finished administering his medication. “You know that better than most patients.”

“I was just trying to get my cup,” Will began, cut off by Jay’s snort.

“There’s three people in here who could’ve grabbed it for you, man,” Jay said. “You didn’t have to pop a stitch—”

“Two stitches,” Connor piped up from where he was sprawled in the arm chair, eyes half closed as his head lolled against the arm rest.

Jenna flashed two fingers at Will with a pointed look.

“Right,” Jay said. “Two stitches. They’re gonna take your doctor cred if you keep this up.”

“It’s actually pretty on brand for doctors,” Jenna muttered.

“I know! Okay? I’m sorry.” Will slumped back against his pillows with a wince. “I’ll be more careful.” He gave Jenna a contrite little grin that actually seemed to work on her. “I promise.”

“We’ll be holding you to that,” she said, smiling back at him. “Now rest.”

Will raised his arm to give her a salute, only to lower it quickly, curling his hand into a fist as he hissed. “Ow.”

Idiot. Jay barely managed to hold back an affectionate snort. He and Jenna had to maintain a united front.

Jenna shook her head, shooting a glance at Jay as she headed out the door. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

Jay managed to knock off an actual salute, ignoring the sneaky middle finger Will was giving him. “You’re getting me in trouble with the nurses,” he whispered at Will. “Aren’t we supposed to be trying to stay on their good side?”

“Yes,” Will and Connor replied in unison.

“So, no more messing around, okay?” He pointed a stern finger at Will who nodded sheepishly.

Seriously. He was so much worse than Jay had ever been. At least Bex was behaving herself.

Although that might be the concussion.

Jay frowned to himself, peeking at the other side of the room where Chris was talking with Bex while Mouse hovered close by. His radar started pinging at how serious they both looked.

“Psst.” Will motioned for him to come closer and Jay made his way around to the left side of the bed. Will ‘pssst’d at him again so he leaned in a bit.

“Jay.” Will looked up at him with wide, definitely drugged up eyes.

“Yes, Will.”

“Pass me my cup?”

Jay shook his head at the sound of smothered laughter coming from Connor’s chair. “Yes, I’ll pass you your friggin’ cup,” he said. “I’ll even put more water in it for you.”

“Thank you, Jay.”

He watched to make sure Will didn’t spill all over the place before taking the cup back and returning it to the bedside table.

“Chris, you’re not listening to me!” Bex’s raised voice caught both of their attention.

“I am, but you’re not thinking straight—”

A groan from Bex cut him off as she closed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. “Just stop.”

“Hey.” Jay made his way over to their side of the room. “What’s going on?”

“Bex’s being stubborn,” Chris sighed and Mouse exchanged an uneasy look with Jay behind his back.

“I’m not—” Bex took a shuddery breath and started again. “I just want to go home, Chris.”

“You can’t,” he said, gearing himself up. “Not alone. You’re in no shape to take care of yourself. We can move the kids around temporarily and get you set up—”

“No!”

Chris jerked back at Bex’s tone and Jay stepped closer to the bed, making room for Connor to come and join their little huddle.

Bex looked up at the four of them, tears forming in her eyes as she let out a frustrated huff. “I just—I can’t—”

Jay crouched down beside her, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Whatever you need, we’ll make it work.”

“…I don’t want the kids to see me like this,” she whispered. Chris deflated, as gut-punched by her words as the rest of them. Jay understood. She—she looked rough still. Almost worse now that all of her bruises were blooming across her skin. “And I love you guys, Chris, but I need to be in my own space. My own bed. I’ll be okay. I can—”

Jay made eye contact with Mouse and knew without a word they were on the same page. “Mouse and I will stay with her,” he said. “We can talk to Voight and do whatever we need to make our schedules work so that one of us is always there.”

“Don’t you need to be here with Will?” Chris asked, shaking his head, already dismissing the idea. “Connor’ll need help—”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I can handle him on my own.” Connor jerked a thumb over at Will who was completely passed out and drooling on his pillow. He grinned when that got a little giggle out of Bex. “We’ve got people here who can help out,” Connor said. “Jenna’s probably going to tie him down at some point so that’ll make things easy.”

“I know you’re joking,” Jay said. “But I think she actually might.”

“Oh, I’m only like, fifty percent joking about that,” Connor laughed. “But I’m serious about it being fine. We’ll be okay.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Chris said, raising his hands in surrender. “If you can make sure someone’s always there, I’ll trust you and leave you to it. But—” He pointed a stern finger at Jay, Mouse, and then Bex. “Cindy and I’ll be stopping by regularly. No arguments about that.”

“No arguments,” Bex agreed.

“Alright.” Chris slapped at his knees as he stood. “Let’s break you out of this joint.”

***

Chris

Chris left the room under the excuse of tracking down Bex’s discharge paperwork, but ducked down the first quiet hallway he found. He tried to take a slow and steady breath as he leaned against the wall, but it came out in one harsh exhale.

Christ.

He pressed his palms against his eyes and cursed at himself. Get it together, Herrmann.

Bex was the one who went through a trauma. He had to respect her needs—respect her choices—even if the thought of not being able to keep an eye on her 24/7 until every one of those horrific bruises faded away made him feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

He rubbed at his face, swiping away any evidence of tears. He could be okay with this because this was Jay and Mouse they were talking about. They were probably going to be even bigger…what was it Bex and Jay always say?

Mama chickens.

Chris chuckled to himself as he straightened up, shaking his head.

Right. Jay and Mouse were going to be huge mama chickens about this and he and Cindy could check in as often as they needed.

Which he would be doing with that key that Bex gave him when she first moved it.

So there.

His brain settled as numerous plans for check-ins and meal drop-offs began to form. Maybe he could talk Cindy into making a spreadsheet or something. Chris nodded. Yeah, they could make this work.

But first, the promised discharge papers.

He set off with renewed purpose, ready to get the ball rolling on his promise to spring Bex.

***

Bex

Jay left shortly after Chris, saying something about packing up enough stuff to stay at Bex’s for awhile and promising to stop by Mouse’s place to grab some things for him as well.

She waved him off and settled back against her pillows, trying not to wince as she was well aware of the two sets of eyes still on her.

“Hey.” Mouse pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “Are you okay with this plan?” he asked quietly. “We kind of steamrollered you there.”

“No, it’s good,” she said. “I just—I can’t be at Chris and Cindy’s, but Chris is right. I probably shouldn’t be alone. If you and Jay don’t mind—”

“Not even a little bit.” Mouse jumped right in with that. He reached out to squeeze the fingers the were poking out of her cast. “I’m glad, uh, you—thank you for letting us. For letting us help.”

“Will, no—” Connor’s voice cut through their moment. “Let me get your cup. You are ridiculous. Don’t make those eyes.”

Bex met Mouse’s eyes and they both barely managed to push back their giggles.

“Hey,” Mouse whispered, leaning in. “Can I sign your cast?” He pulled a black Sharpie out of his pocket and waggled it at her.

“Where'd you get that?”

He grinned. “I have my ways.”

“Okay, keep your secrets.” Bex stretched her arm out along the bed. “Have at it.”

She closed her eyes, listening to him hum softly as the marker scratched over her hard cast. They’d finally put it on last night after another round of being poked and prodded and scanned. They weren’t worried about her internal bleeding anymore—yay—but her concussion symptoms were rearing their ugly head.

Chris and Cindy had picked up a pile of delicious food and she hadn’t been able to eat any of it. Her stomach was off. Everything tasted weird and gross. Jay even went and grabbed her more French fries, but she couldn’t even make it through one bite.

It was like, everything from Friday to Sunday felt so unreal and now reality was creeping back in, sharpening everything up, and Bex was completely weighed down.

By pain and exhaustion and all of the medication and now freaking nausea. She couldn’t wait to go home to her own bed and, well, probably continue to have crap sleeps, but at least it would be quieter and comfier there.

“There.” She opened her eyes to see Mouse capping the marker and gesturing at her cast with a proud flourish. On the inside of her wrist was a doodle of a tiny mouse.

“I love it,” Bex said and he quirked his little grin at her.

“Okay, campers,” Chris said, charging back into the room. “It’s go time.”

“Finally,” Will sighed and both Chris and Connor were on him in a flash.

“Not you,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“If you move from that bed,” Connor began. “I swear—”

“Jeez, can’t a guy make a joke?” Will help up his hands.

“Probably would have landed better two stitches ago,” Mouse said.

“Now that,” Chris grinned, pointing at Mouse. “That’s a joke.”

“You guys are jerks,” Will grumbled. “Bex, remember me when you’re on the outside.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you pout,” Connor said. He leaned in to kiss Will’s forehead, giving him another on the lips when he tilted his face up for more. “Now cut it out.”

Will didn’t stop pouting, but at least he stayed in bed while Mouse and Chris helped Bex out of hers. Cindy had already helped her get cleaned up and dressed earlier that morning. She was definitely going to have to figure out some kind of system for that once she got home.

Moving slowly, because wow walking didn’t feel that great, she made her way over to Will and gave him a careful hug goodbye.

“I’ll see you soon,” she promised. If he could manage to keep himself out of trouble, he should be out in a few more days. Then they could all be at home together.

She was in the middle of hugging Connor when Jenna showed up at the door with a wheelchair. “Hospital policy,” Jenna said cheerfully. “We take you right to the door.”

Mouse and Chris hovered as she carefully got into the chair, giving her a flash of what the next week or two was going to be like. She might as well put the hovering to good use.

“Chris.” Bex reached out to touch his arm before he could move around and start pushing the wheelchair. “I want to make to see her before we go. Please.”

Every single person around her got a pinched look on their face at that request and she knew, okay? She knew that Emery was in bad shape and seeing her was going to be hard, but there was no way she was leaving her before doing that.

She needed Emery to hear her voice. To know they were both still here.

And that she had to keep it that way.

“Okay,” Chris sighed. “Hold on tight. Herrmann Express is leaving the station.”

He looked down at her expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m not—”

“Choo choo,” Mouse offered helpfully.

“Good enough for me,” Chris said as he wheeled them out of the room.

***

Mouse

Watching Bex sit beside Emery’s bedside, holding her friend’s limp hand as she talked to her—it was…rough. Mouse couldn’t stop thinking about how that could have been Bex too.

Or worse, that Bex might not have even made it to the hospital.

But she did make it, he reminded himself. And she was hurt, but she was going to be better and he and Jay would be there every step of the way.

“Her stats are better,” a voice popped up beside him. He looked over to see Kira, Bex and Emery’s friend standing between him and Chris. She’d given up her seat when they’d arrived so Bex could have a visit, claiming it was a good time for a coffee run.

“Emery’s stats,” she clarified, sipping at her to go cup. “They’re not great, but they’re better so…that’s something.”

“Have they said anything about when they’ll start bringing her off the sedation?” Chris asked.

“Maybe in the next day or two,” Kira said. “I’ll keep you guys posted.”

“Appreciated.” Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. They kept watch for a while longer, clocking when Bex started to flag and starting the slow process of actually getting her to leave.

Eventually, they managed to get her out of the hospital and into Mouse’s car. There was no way they would have been able to get her into Jay’s truck which was he drew the ‘go pack up their shit’ short straw.

After Chris had triple-checked that Bex was safely buckled in, he finally stepped back and shut the car door. He gave Mouse a measured look. “Take care of her,” he said.

“Every minute,” Mouse promised.

“I’ll be stopping by too so no funny business or walking around in your underoos or anything like that,” Chris said, jumping when Bex banged on the car window, scowling up at him. “Ooh, I did not think she could hear me. Okay, okay, I’m going.” He blew a quick kiss at Bex before quickly jogging off to the van. “Be seeing you!”

Mouse waved him off and got into the driver’s seat, ignoring the grumbling coming from the passenger side. “Let’s get you home.”

Bex let out a quiet sigh at that. “Please.”

The drive was surprisingly quiet. They were in that after-commute window and it seemed like a light day for construction. Mouse kept the radio off, mindful of Bex’s headaches, and focused on getting them there. Bex didn’t make a peep for the longest time. When he glanced over at the next red light, she was slumped against the back of the seat, totally passed out.

He was tempted to just keep driving and let her sleep for as long as she could, but she had to have some kind of internal radar because as soon as they got close to her street, she started to stir.

“We almost there?”

“Almost,” Mouse said, turning down her road and pulling into the parking lot. “Hang on, I’ll help you out.” He got out and dashed around to her side of the car. Working too quickly for her to argue about it, Mouse opened the door and undid her seatbelt. He carefully helped her out of the car, cataloguing every wince she tried to hide. Getting her upstairs was going to be a battle.

“Bex,” Mouse said, trying to figure out how to broach the subject as best he could. “I think, uh, don’t get mad, okay?”

“What?” She frowned faintly at him, swaying a bit before leaning against the car.

Crap. He did some quick math in his head. She was definitely due for another round of pain pills too. He really needed to get her upstairs. “Will you let me carry you in?” he asked, biting the bullet and putting it out there. “It’s far and I know—”

“You want to what?” “Uh, carry? You?”

Bex squinted at him and then groaned. “You know what? Go for it.” She raised her good arm and Mouse didn’t wait for her to second guess it before scooping her up gently into his arms.

“This okay?” She’d winced again when he’d picked her up, but she settled, wrapped her good arm around his neck and laying her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said. “Hurts, but not as bad as walking did.”

Jay chose that moment to pull into the lot, doing a double take as he drove past them. He parked quickly and jogged over to meet them at the front door. “Everything okay?”

“Just getting Bex upstairs,” Mouse said. “Figured we could come down for everything else later.”

Understanding crossed Jay’s face as he checked his own watch, realizing where they were in the schedule. “Good idea.” He went ahead, getting the doors and managing the elevator, then opening the apartment door.

The place was a little musty after not having anyone around for the last couple of days, but Jay turned the air on and it started to clear up quickly.

Mouse set Bex down and she already seemed more relaxed by being in her own space.

“You hungry?” he asked and she made a face. “Bex, you need to eat.”

“I know, but everything tastes awful and I feel so pukey—” She stopped when she looked up and met his eyes, sighing at whatever she’d seen in them. “I’m sorry, I know I need to eat.”

He didn’t want to guilt trip her, but she really did need to eat, especially with the kind of meds she was one. “Maybe a bit of toast now? And we could try soup later?”

Between the two of them, they managed to gently bully her through a piece of toast, taking her medicine, and into trying for a nap. After getting her tucked into bed, Mouse closed the door to her room, leaning against it with a sigh. Jay was waiting for him in the hall.

“She asleep?”

“Not yet,” Mouse said. “But close.”

They stood there in silence for a moment.

“Think we can do this without fucking up?” Jay asked.

“Gonna try.” Mouse pushed away from the door and headed toward the kitchen because that was it. He was gonna try. No matter what. “You have any idea how to make real soup?” he asked Jay over his shoulder.

“No, but that’s what Google’s for, yeah?”

Mouse laughed, smiling as Jay hip-checked past him into the kitchen and started rooting around the cupboards.

Okay. Plan of attack.

Figure out how to make soup. Bring their stuff up. Make soup. Feed the soup to Bex.

It was a start, at least.

“Hey, do you think this carrot is salvageable?”

Right, soup.

***

Bex

A quiet knock on her door was the only warning she got before Jay poked his head in. “Hey,” he whispered. “Ready to get up?”

“Not really,” she grumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

“So, does that mean you don’t want to go see Emery and Will?”

He laughed when she shot up out of bed. “I’m up, I’m up,” she said. “Give me two minutes to change.” He left her to it and she changed into fresh clothes in record time. She grabbed the door handle, pulling it open and stepped out—

Into the hallway of the hospital. The ICU floor. “Jay?” she called out, but there was no answer. The only sound was a flat whine coming from one of the rooms.

A sound she was way too familiar with.

One that made her stomach fill with dread and panic and—

She found herself moving toward the noise, pulled toward a doorway, into a room.

“No,” Bex whispered.

Will and Emery, lying side by side in twin hospital beds, motionless as the monitor screamed out the flatline behind them.

“NO!”

“You did this.” Connor stepped toward her from the side of the room. “You were too slow. Too weak. You didn’t save them.”

“I tried—”

“You let them die,” Connor snapped out at her. He looked down at his own chest where growing patches of red were forming, blood starting to run down it in little rivers. “This is your fault.”

“Connor!” She screamed as he fell to his knees, eyes staring out at nothing. “No. No, no, no! Help!” Bex turned back out to the hall, searching for someone, anyone. She spotted someone lying on the floor a few feet away.

It looked like—

No.

Bex ran, falling to her knees beside him and carefully turning him over. Chris flopped back, dried blood crinkling the side of his shirt. His lips were blue. Eyes as empty as Connor’s.

And Will’s.

And Emery’s.

“I need HELP!” Bex yelled into the empty hallway. “Please. Someone, please help!”

“It’s too late, Bex.”

She whirled around to see Mouse falling to his knees as blood poured out of his mouth.

“There’s no one left to help,” he gasped before collapsing to the floor. Behind him, the hallway was filled with bodies.

Jay. Cindy. Uncle Bo. Uncle Mouch. Trudy. Matt. Gabby. Shay. Kelly. Kevin. Adam. Kim. Sylvie. Otis. Joe. Kira. Malia. Sam. Everyone.

All of them.

Every single person she loved.

Dead.

“This is your fault,” Ty said, slamming a knife into her chest and pinning her to the wall.

Bex woke up with a gasp, doubling over as pain throbbed through her at the sudden movement. She couldn’t—where was—they were all—

No.

She took a shaky breath.

Then another.

Slow.

Waiting out the panic.

It was a dream. It wasn’t real. They were all alive.

It wasn’t real.

Bex carefully let herself lie back against her pillows and ran her good hand over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “It wasn’t real,” she reminded herself.

A knock on her door had her jolting again. Heart pounding.

“Bex?” Jay called before he cracked the door open. “You awake?”

“Um, yeah,” she croaked out. “Just now.”

He poked his head inside, peering at her. “You okay?”

She took in the sight of him, alive and okay, but with massive bags under his eyes and concerned lines etching across his face. Stress and exhaustion seeping out of his bones.

This is your fault.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Sure about that?”

“Yes,” Bex said firmly, willing away her headache and sore ribs for long enough to flash him a convincing smile. “I’m okay…and I believe I was promised soup?”

He grinned back and started in on what had apparently been an epic soup-making adventure with Mouse. Bex let his words wash over her, pushing away the remnants of her nightmare.

See?

Fine.

Click here to read Chapter Two.

Click here to read Fine is a Four-Letter Word on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @iunnowatuwant, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @thebewingedjewelcat, @emme-looou,

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clickerflight · 4 months

Text

Esial: Part 11 - Phone Calls and Door Latches

Happy new years, guys! This is the last part of this arc. There will be more of Esial, trust me, but there will be a bit of a time skip between this and the next arc. Things are going to get wild. I have a plot line and everything. Anyways! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Part 10

Content: Vampire whumpee, human whumpee, emotional whump, injury recovery, depressive thoughts (nothing too deep but hinted at) loneliness, emotional angst

.................................................

Kyle checked the clock for what had to be the 12th time in the past half hour. He pressed a gentle hand to his side. It was well wrapped in bandages and padding and it was apparently healing well, but it still hurt. He needed to take some meds for it soon. The only issue was Kyle had to take it with food or he would end up throwing up.

He sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch, barely listening to the cooking competition show he had turned on to distract himself. He needed to get up to make food, which would make the pain worse, which would make the food harder to make. It was an unending loop. In the past he would have been able to ask Joanna for some help but even just thinking about her made his head and side hurt more.

He closed his eyes, trying not to tear up. His life was a complete mess. He didn’t live near any family who could come help him, Joseph and his bondmate were the closest things Kyle had to friends, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask them for anything. Muir was busy all the time, running himself even harder than before now that he was a vampire and Joseph was always at the rehab center. Adding himself as another load onto them was selfish.

He sighed again and leaned forward slowly, wincing. He couldn’t even get off this stupid couch. His education was down the drain, he couldn’t work, he didn’t have any family or friends. He didn’t have anything except for expensive medical bills that would drain his funds for finishing out schooling and lawyers calling him every day trying to get him to change the wording in his testimonies in sneaky ways, trying to get him to make it look less bad that his best friend had kept a vampire in her shed surrounded by silver and then shot him in a desperate attempt to sell the guy.

This was insane. How was this his life?

By the time Kyle got to the counter in the kitchen, he had to lean on it, fighting rising sobs because he knew they would only make his side hurt more. He could cry after the meds had some time to kick in. No crying before then. And maybe he could do it in his bed as well. As a treat.

He slowly gathered himself back together and opened his fridge, pulling out a container of chili. His neighbor, Barbara, had been bringing him some food now and again after he’d gotten back from the hospital. He wished she would stop. She was friendly, of course, but there was a prideful part of him that wished he had more help than his 50 year old neighbor who took pity on him and took the chance to talk to him as a way to feel a little less lonely herself. He put the chili in the microwave, wincing as he heard the first pop of one of the beans. Who knew how long his microwave was going to be chili splattered before he had the energy to clean it.

He leaned on the counter again, waiting for the minute to be up so he could stir it and put it in for another minute when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He closed his eyes against the anguish the sound caused in his soul as he dug it out. He looked at it, dreading to see some unknown number that could be the hospital or another Lawyer who found another phone number to call from, but he had this number saved in his phone.

Joseph.

He didn’t know if that was worse.

He accepted the call and went to lift the phone to his ear, but gave up as pain lanced up his side.

“Nope,” he muttered to himself, putting his arm back down and putting Joseph on speaker.

“Hey,” Kyle said, hoping desperately that he didn’t sound like he’d been crying.

“Hey, Kyle. Good to hear your voice,” Joseph said. Kyle didn’t like how timid the vampire sounded, like he wasn’t sure about how Kyle was going to react to something. “How are you? I meant to come up and check on you this morning but then I figured you were probably still sleeping and I didn’t want to-”

“What is it, Joseph?” Kyle sighed, watching the inside of his microwave get progressively dirtier inside.

“Oh… ah. It’s Esial.”

Kyle closed his eyes as his microwave beeped. He’d wait till after the call to deal with it.

“What about him?”

“He’s doing alright. Ah, a little confused, homesick, that sort of thing. That’s normal. He just asked if he could talk to you sometime. You don’t have to do it now, of course. I’m just seeing if you’d be up to it in the next couple of weeks or… you know… whenever.”

Kyle didn’t open his eyes, focusing on keeping calm steady breathes. There were flashes of light in his mind’s eye, a bleeding vampire hovering over him, Kyle himself open on the table.

A gun to his head, a scared vampire trying to free himself from a woman Kyle had once called his best friend.

A vampire sitting, nearly naked, in a spot surrounded by silver in a shed.

“Kyle? You still there?”

“No.”

“What?”

“No,” Kyle said, more exhausted this time. “Look, no offense to the guy, but I can’t. I can’t anymore. I’m so sick of this.”

“Oh… well, maybe we can talk about this later after you’re heal-”

“NO! Joseph! I don’t want to talk to that stupid vampire. I don’t want to ever see him again, you hear!? I want my life back! And I know it’s not his fault but…. Crap, Joseph. Just….. Just leave me alone.”

Before Joseph could protest, Kyle hung up. He tossed his phone onto the counter, staring at it for a long time before he turned. He left the chili in the microwave, he left the TV and lights on, but he snagged a piece of bread to stuff into his mouth on the way past, made a beeline for the bathroom where he took his meds.

He laid on top of his blankets for a long time, something in his pocket digging into his leg as he stared at the wall. Once he felt the meds start working he buried his face in his pillow and screamed before allowing himself to cry softly for another hour, letting that eventually carry him to sleep.

…………………………………….

Esial had finally figured out the door handle properly. It amused him to no end to open the door and then just pull the handle down to see the catch slide in and out of the door. He was fascinated by the mechanism and a little tempted to take it apart to see if he could replicate it in some way. He didn’t dare, though. When he’d done that to the ‘lamp’ by his bed he couldn’t get it to work again after and he didn’t want to do the same thing to the door latch.

He looked up as he heard someone coming down the hall and was delighted to see it was Joseph. And just like he had asked Joseph every time Esial had seen him since the night walk, he asked, “Can I talk to Kyle?”

Joseph reached the door, looking rather uncomfortable. Esial was getting good at recognizing that emotion, especially on Joseph, but his teachers who had started teaching him body language said he was picking it up pretty well anyways.

“I called Kyle,” Joseph said slowly, but Esial waited patiently for him to get to the point.

Joseph rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s… going through a rough patch right now. He just got really badly hurt and he’s tired and having a kind of bad time. He’s not ready to talk to you right now.”

“Then next week?” Esial asked. He hoped a week meant what he thought it meant. Or was it day? He knew it wasn’t month. A month was a cycle of a moon cause they both started with an M sound.

Joseph sighed. “I don’t know when, Esial.”

Esial frowned. “Why not?”

“Because… look. Kyle’s not ready to really be around people much. We should leave him be.”

Esial wrinkled his nose at that. “Not ready? I just want to talk in the old language. That is all. I am not asking for him to kill hippos while he is injured. I just want to talk.”

Joseph gave Esial a look that the isolated vampire didn’t understand. It looked complicated.

This only frustrated him further.

“Do I ask too much?” Esial asked, bearing his teeth. “Only talk. Does not even have to be long one!” He wanted to apologize for coming to the hospital, he wanted to ask about certain things that he couldn’t grasp because he didn’t know English well. He wanted to talk in a language he was more familiar with instead of fighting with each sentence and each word.

“No,” Joseph said. “He’s just tired. He’ll probably come around to talk to you eventually-”

“‘Come around?’ That is phrase with other meaning. He does… he does not want to talk with me.”

“No, wait, Esial, it’s more complicated than that. It-”

“He does not. I scare him?” Esial did not consider himself scary to anything. Not even to hippos. Hippos do not feel fear. He wasn’t very tall, he was confused most of the time, and he didn’t even mean Kyle harm. Kyle knew that! He defended Esial in the hospital.

Esial growled and Joseph tried to placate the older vampire. “Esial, it’s not that. A lot of things happened, okay? He’s dealing with a lot of bad emotions and he doesn’t know what he wants. This isn’t about you.”

“I do not ask much! I only want to sorry to him! I want to ask thing that do not … not-” Esial snapped his fingers- “In here,” he said, gesturing to his head. “I was hurt! Why bad emotion with me!?”

“Emotions are more complicated than that. It’s, They’re, crap. How do I explain this to you?”

“This why I need talk with Kyle!” Esial said, giving up on following all of the stupid confusing rules of this stupid confusing language.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Joseph blurted, frustrated. “Right now,” he said quickly, but Esial heard the pause.

Esial snarled, bore his teeth again and cussed Joseph out with the language that his parents had taught him before backing up and slamming the door, panting as he stood in the darkness of his room.

He could hear Joseph pacing outside for a moment before he finally walked off, leaving Esial alone.

Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thecyrulik @gt-daboss

From Dust to Ashes: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @currentlyinthesprial @pigeonwhumps

#whump #esial #from dust to ashes #human whumpee #vampire whumpee #angst #injury recovery #depressive thoughts

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 7 months

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Whump Prompt #1265

Anon asked:

TW: Sports injuries

Maybe prompts for whump related to sports?? Could be an injury on the field/court, or even as far as the star athlete being poisoned or sabotaged by the other team.

I can give it a go!

You could start off with the 'aftermath' of the injury. Perhaps when the whumpee is in the hospital or at home. Maybe they've gone back to the place of the incident to work out what happened (maybe they're struggling with fever, and take it upon themselves to go back.)

The day started out normally, they had their usual breakfast and went about their warm ups. There was nothing that could have gone wrong...

But it did. It so unequivocally did, and now they're nursing injuries they may not recover from.

Maybe there's still bloodstains where it happened.

Maybe their whole life revolved around being the best, and now they're so setback they start to doubt their future - they have to learn to be something/someone else. (Or so they think)

I could imagine the whumpee to be quite emotional too - either just generally depressed or very angry at themselves.

Maybe it was an accident, maybe it was deliberate, but above all the whumpee blames themselves.

#whump #writing #prompts #sports injury #angst #injuries #fever #severe injury #sports injury tw #tw just in case #injury recovery #recovery #heavy angst #emotional whump

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months

Note

challenge monday - running from the daylight by medusapelagia // they have a really strong voice and I love their works but this may be one of my favorites

Running From The Daylight by Medusapelagia

@medusapelagia

Rating: Mature

15,961 words, 15/15 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Snow, Mountains, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Established Relationship, Avalanches, Inaccuracies, Blood and Injury, Suicidal Thoughts, Blood, collapse, Broken Bones, Hurt, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sick Character, Major Character Injury, Injury, Head Injury, Injury Recovery, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Past Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Memory Loss, Hospitals, Medical Procedures, Medical Inaccuracies, Surgery

Summary:

Eddie sighs, looking at the white blanket around the chalet that Steve booked for their first holiday together. The landscape is incredible, the chalet warm and comfortable but Eddie misses the chaos that always seems to surround him: the only sound in that stupid chalet is the crackling open fire, which is nice, don’t get him wrong, but after two days of white snow and crackling fireplace he is definitely bored to dead.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was find fics with under 100 kudos.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #challenge monday #no upside down #rated m #established relationship #hurt/comfort #injury recovery #tw suicide ideation #sick fic

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oopsbirdficced · 7 months

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The Winding Path Home

Art by @z-h-i-e / Zhie (AO3)

Story by @oopsbirdficced / ingenious_spark (AO3)

Fic rating: T/13+

Warnings: mild blood, referenced torture, canon typical violence, forced transformation

Relationships: Thranduil/Finrod

Characters: Thranduil, Finrod, Original Characters

Tags: werewolves, Finrod survives, domestic fluff, light humor, injury recovery, illustrated work

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Sometimes grief is the first step on the lonely road home. For two aching souls, it’s also the first step towards each other.

Sometimes what you need to begin to heal from grief is someone to take care of.

A collaboration created for the 2023 Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang, @tolkienrsb !!!!!

Collection/link will go live on September 8th!

#silmarillion #finrod #thranduil #werewolves #domestic fluff #humor #referenced torture #injury recovery #grief recovery #mild blood #happy ending #trsb23 #event fic #my writing #fanfiction

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magdelanesingerin · 4 months

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Lucky

Jaskier is lucky. He knows he is.

He’s alive. It could have been worse. Geralt got him out after only a couple of days, cutting a bloody swath through Nilfgaardian prison guards and leaving his interrogator in twitching pieces on the floor before he swooped Jaskier up in his arms and carried him to safety, cradled gingerly to his chest. He can remember feeling a detached sort of shame at the uncontrollable, shaking whine that forced its way out on every exhale until he finally passed out.

He’s lucky. He’s alive. It could have been so much worse.

The thought drifts across his fuzzy mind along with voices in the room, the sound of them floating through the murky, dim air as he slips in and out of a dazed, pained confusion.

“Just heal him, Yen!”

Ahh, that rough, low voice, so familiar, but muted now as Geralt hisses quietly and fervently in anger that sounds more like desperation.

“I told you. I. Can’t,” the equally hushed and furious reply. The cadence of their arguments is one Jaskier knows well, the building frustration and exasperation bouncing and building between them until it explodes, and they’re finally driven away from each other again. “I used too much power portalling us in and out of the prison, and that fucking mage took more effort than I planned for. I have either enough power to try to heal him —probably badly, since this is nowhere near my specialty– or to take you both safely to Oxenfurt so a qualified healer can stabilize him. Not both.”

“These are complex injuries, Wolf.” A serious, gruff voice that Jaskier doesn’t know. “These aren’t clean, simple breaks. That bone is shattered. I haven’t treated injuries like this in decades, not since there were trainees here.”

Oh, this must be the mysterious and venerable Vesemir. Not exactly the way he planned on meeting Geralt’s father figure. In every one of Jaskier’s imaginings of this moment, he had definitely been conscious, and not covered in a crust of blood and shameful human filth. Wonderful.

“He’s not like us,” Vesemir continued, “if she encourages the bones to heal without setting them correctly, he might never use his fingers again. It will take weeks for the pieces to fuse, months to heal completely. He needs a human physician.”

“Months!?” Geralt sounds incredulous, and Jaskier would laugh, or try to, if he could open his mouth without screaming. Bless his wonderful witcher, he has no idea of how human bodies work.

Vesemir heaves a deep, weary sigh and Yen cuts in again, her voice tight with impatience and something unfamiliar that Jaskier can’t quite place. Fear? Guilt? Neither of those are things he’s used to hearing from Yennefer. “Yes. He’s human . And not a young man anymore,” she says flatly.

His half-lidded eyes struggle to take in the details of the room around him; he can see the shapes of the people standing over him but can’t quite understand any of it. The breath hisses through his tightly clenched teeth as he clings to control, sounding impossibly loud.

“An injury like this would take you a week, maybe two to heal with a couple doses of Swallow, and your body would rebuild ligaments and nerves rapidly. His won’t ,” she says, and the whole room can hear the words “you moron” tacked on to the end of her sentence. “He’ll need special care, and not just for a day–for weeks. someone who knows enough about the human hand to be able to piece this mess back together,” she finishes with a tone of frustrated disgust. But Jaskier barely notices, is too distracted by sudden focused awareness on his body brought on by her words…

He twitches and clenches his eyes shut, trying not to imagine the sharp, twisted grin of the interrogator, the flare of pain when the man moved his attentions from one ruined finger to the next. The acrid smell of burning somewhere in the room. The breathless ache in his chest as whimpers crawled out of his body unbidden and unstoppable on every pained exhale. His head swims and he can feel his heart pounding at the memory that rises up to swallow him.

Waves of trembling wash over him, tightening muscles in shivering surges that seem unstoppable. He must be in shock. Isn’t shock supposed to dull pain, though? If this is the pain dulled, he thinks hysterically as he tries to force his body to calm, how much worse will it be when he comes out of it? It would be easier if he could just fall fully unconscious.

“Shani. I can take him to Shani. She’s a physician and…Jaskier’s friend. She’s in Oxenfurt.”

“Can you trust her?” Vesemir asks sharply.

“Yes.”

The conversation keeps swirling around him and Jaskier loses track for a little while. Yennefer and Geralt seem to be arguing about going to Oxenfurt, and something about Ciri, but he can’t quite focus enough to take it in. He feels a chill of formless, shameful guilt anyway. He’s causing problems again. Putting them in danger again.

And then there’s a broad hand over his forehead, smoothing his hair back gently, and Geralt’s voice, cracked and miserable, close enough to feel the warm air of this breath.

“It’s my fault. They took him to get to me. To Ciri. I should have been there sooner.”

Jaskier usually loves when Geralt touches him like this, offering softness and comfort. It’s uncommon enough to be precious.

Right now, the touch is too much, though, overwhelming in a way that shocks him, and he flinches away from Geralt’s palm before he can stop himself, eyelids fluttering open enough to see the wince and flash of hurt on his friend’s face as he draws his hand away.

Geralt’s hand forms a shape in the air over his head and Jaskier feels a wave of warmth and relief wash through his body as his clenching muscles relax. “Sleep, and feel no pain, Jask.”

continue on Ao3

#the witcher #Jaskier whump #whump the bard #post-torture #injury recovery #protective Geralt #my fic #pre-slash geraskier

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

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uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is healing wounds #injury recovery #cw: mild blood #post s4 #hurt/comfort #getting to know you #tending to wounds

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alidravana · 28 days

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Fandom: Blue Bloods, FBI

Pairing: Joe Hill/OA Zidan

Length/Rating: ~3K, Teen

Tags: Developing Relationship, Family Bonding, Blue Bloods S12E06, Major Character Injury, Hospitalization, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Non-Sexual Intimacy

Summary:

While recovering from his injuries, Detective Joe Hill learns some important things about the Reagan family, and even more important things about himself.

Written for @flufftober's Spring Edition 2024 for the following prompts: new beginnings, banter, "let me take care of you", and breakfast in bed.

Welcome to my newest crossover rare pair! Been watching both Blue Bloods and FBI lately, love both of these characters, and voila. Would love to know what you think, as I do already have another fic idea or two for this ship!

Read here on A03!

#fluffspring2024 #blue bloods #fbi cbs #joe hill #OA Zidan #rare pairs #crossover #injury recovery #self discovery #hurt/comfort

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madamefeu · 2 months

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Hey! Alastor whump lovers! Pspspspspsps food for you! AKA, Alastor gets badly injured during his fight with Adam, and Niffty struggles to cope with losing the closest thing she’s ever had to a father:

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #Niffty #Alastor whump #fanfic #angst #fluff #found family #ao3 #ao3 writer #whump #injury recovery #wattpad

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wangxianficrecs · 9 months

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💙 in payment, a hand by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account)

💙 in payment, a hand

by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account)

M, 10k, Series, Wangxian

Summary: “It was a kindness she didn’t take your right hand,” Jiang Yanli is the one to say, when she’s arrived with Jiang-shushu and he’s finally been taken to the healers. Not that the healers can do much. - Or, the one where Wei Wuxian's hand is taken. Kay's comments: I absolutely adore this series and I'm still heartbroken that justdoityoufucker orphaned all their works, but thankfully, the stories didn't get deleted and are still here for us to enjoy! This story has everything that I love: a fix-it that it's rooted in "it gets worse before it gets better", canon-divergence, Wen siblings feelings, Wei Wuxian finding his own path away from the Jiang Sect and Wangian finding their way together, it's the perfect package! It explores how the story could have gone, if Madam Yu had cut off Wei Wuxian's hand to save Lotus Pier and I love which directions it took. Excerpt: When Wei Ying wakes again, he initially thinks himself alone in the room, Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s beds neatly made up and the two of them not in eyesight when he pushes himself to sitting. He’s wrong. He’s not alone. There’s an achingly familiar white-clad form at the low table, sitting with perfect posture, writing with exact precision. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, he thinks the other boy’s name but he must say it out loud because Lan Zhan turns to him like a flower toward sun. He doesn’t know why, but upon the sight of Lan Zhan, upon the way his eyes soften with worry when he sees Wei Ying, Wei Ying bursts into tears. It’s all so much, too much, and he wants to go to sleep and wake up and have it be before all this, before his hand got cut off, before the Xuanwu, before everything. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Lan Zhan was starting to look worried about the sudden tears, which was a funny thought, but not funny enough to override the sudden realization of just how much his life has been ruined by those he once thought to be his family. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan finally says, standing and stepping forward until he’s right next to the bed. He hesitates for a second, then flicks his sleeves out and neatly sits there, on the edge of the bed, and doesn’t even flinch when Wei Ying collapses into him.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, sunshot campaign, family of choice, found family, amputation, injury recovery, major character injury, jiang family dynamics, not jiang family friendly, implied/referenced abuse, love confessions, getting together, first kiss, self-reflection, angst with a happy ending, no golden core transfer, angst with hurt/comfort, recovery, weddings

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 3 days

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Fine is a Four-Letter Word (Chapter Two)

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Mature

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Kira

The morning sun was just starting to peek through the clouds when Kira flopped down on a chair, resting her elbows on the cafeteria table.

She’d basically been living in the hospital for two—no, three, it was Tuesday, three days now—and she was definitely over the food. Malia and Devon and Isaac had been in and out while she spelled off with Sam and they’d brought meals when they could, but sometimes she was on her own. Like now.

She stared down at the sad looking breakfast burrito.

Really on her own.

Back when she’d agreed to be one of Emery’s emergency contacts, she never thought something like this would happen. Or that Bex would be hurt at the same time. Kira thought that they’d be facing whatever happened together.

Not that she’d be talking with doctors alone, trying to understand what the hell they were saying and praying that the treatments she was agreeing to were actually the best way to go.

Thank god for Connor. Right now, he was spending most of his time with Will—understandably so—but he still made time to check in. To explain things properly. To keep an eye on Emery.

And she’d had a chance to visit with Bex yesterday which helped a bit.

Although Bex had looked like shit and was trying to pretend she didn’t feel even worse. Kira had wanted to tell her everything about how things had been going with Emery and get her thoughts and lean on each other like they were supposed to, but after one look at her, she just…couldn’t.

Bex needed to focus on her own healing right now.

And Kira…she only had to focus on not letting one of her best friends die.

No problem.

“Well, that’s not a ringing endorsement for today’s breakfast burritos.”

Kira’s head jerked up at the sound and she started at the sight of an older gentleman in a white lab coat standing beside her table. “Sorry? I—what?”

“You seem a little upset,” he said, offering her a napkin. He gestured at his own face after she took it, making a wiping motion when she just held the napkin in her hand and stared at it.

She reached up, surprised to find her cheek was wet with tears. “Oh. Um. Thank you.” She wiped at her face and tried to ignore the twinge of embarrassment in her gut at being caught crying over her breakfast in the hospital cafeteria.

“Mind if I sit?” The gentleman asked, barely waiting for her nod before pulling out the seat across from her. “I’m Daniel Charles,” he said. “I work here with Bex’s brother, Will…you’re one of her friends, right?

“Yeah, uh—” Kira gave her head a shake and offered her hand. “Kira Cole. Nice to meet you.”

Daniel shook her hand with a little smile before sitting back and taking a sip of his coffee. “Your other friend,” he began, gazing at her over the rim of his cup. “How’s she doing?”

The sigh slipped out before she could stop it. “Better? I think? They’re talking about bringing her out of the coma today,” Kira said, all of the facts and scenarios and possibilities Connor laid out for her still running through her brain. “They pull back on the medication and then we wait and see.” Kira scoffed. “I’m starting to hate that phrase now. It’s all people keep saying to me. Wait and see, we have to wait and see—like, that’s my only option, to stay here and watch and wait to see if one of my best friends—my family—to-to-to see if she’s going to die. ‘Cause…that’s a normal thing to do.”

She caught herself then, horrified at how she’d just word-vomited her stress all over a stranger.

“Right, uh, sorry about that,” Kira huffed out a laugh as she poked at the edges of her burrito. “Short answer is, hopefully better. Soon.”

“It’s not easy,” Daniel said. “Being the person who waits.”

Kira felt tears prick her eyes again and all she could do was shake her head.

“It might feel like an exercise in futility,” he continued. “But it’s the furthest thing from that. It’s about having hope, Kira, and that kind of hope—that kind of love? It needs a lot of fuel. Your friend…”

“Emery,” Kira whispered.

“Emery.” Daniel nodded. “When she wakes up later, I don’t want to have to explain to her why we let you eat that sad looking burrito. That’s no way to get through the day.” He side-eyed it, making her laugh again.

“Across the street though, there’s this bakery,” he said, getting a kid-sneaking-a-cookie little grin on his face. “Has cheese croissants that melt in your mouth and cinnamon buns as big as your face. Coffee’s nothing to sneeze at either.” Daniel stood up and jerked his head toward the exit. “What do you say? It’s on me…”

On any other day, she’d be way more stranger danger about this whole thing, but she’d heard Bex talk about Dr. Charles before and if she was being completely honest—she was too tired to be anything else—he had a real parental vibe that she was seriously in need of at the moment.

“Yeah, okay,” Kira said, standing up to join him. “I’m in.”

That earned her a mega-watt smile and he ushered her forward. “You’re in for a treat,” he said. “I’m serious. Big as your face!”

Kira laughed and for the first time since Friday, felt the tiniest bit lighter.

***

Otis

“Otis…” Joe stared down at the plate in front of him. “What is this?”

“Scrambled eggs,” Otis shot back as he glopped another pile onto a plate and handed it over to Brett. She took it without a word, eyes going wide as she held it at arm’s length all the way back to the table.

Severide peered into the pan. “Are we one hundred percent sure on that?”

Otis slammed the spatula on the counter, levelling a glare at him. “Nobody said you had to eat it, Severide,” he snapped. “Toaster’s over there.”

“Alright, relax, man.” Severide raised his hands in front of him, backing away. “Careful there, Casey. He’s cranky today.”

Casey ignored him and came around to stand beside Otis at the stove. “What’s going on?” he asked quietly. “This is going a bit beyond your usual ‘I hate doing the cooking’ routine.”

“I just—” Otis sighed. “I hate feeling so useless.”

“Useless?” Casey raised an eyebrow. “At your job as a fireman where we regularly go out and save people’s lives?”

“You know what I mean,” Otis moaned. “I genuinely don’t,” Casey said. “But I’m trying to. Talk to me, Otis.”

“It’s this whole thing with Bex and-and Emery and Will,” he said, trying to find the words to explain. The whole break room quieted down as everyone listened in. “I wish that there was something we could actually do to help them, you know? There’s nothing to fix. I need something we can fix. I just—” Otis cut himself off with another sigh. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry, Ignore me. I’ll, uh…I’ll make a new batch of eggs. Please don’t eat those.”

“Too late,” Capp announced cheerfully. “I kind of like them. I ate Tony’s too.”

Shay shoved her plate in his direction and then turned back to face the rest of them. “You know…there might actually be something we could fix. If they let us.”

“Yeah?” Casey leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed. “What are you thinking?”

“Emery’s place was—well, it was pretty much trashed after what happened,” Shay said and Brett nodded solemnly. “If we’re allowed, it could be nice if we went in and cleaned it up before she’s out of the hospital? Give her a proper place to come home to when she’s ready?”

“It would probably make Bex feel better too,” Joe said. “Knowing that Emery wouldn’t have to deal with any of it?”

Casey and Severide looked at each other for a moment before coming to some kind of silent agreement and nodding. “I’ll make some calls,” Casey said. “If I can get it cleared, we can head over after shift. Anyone who wants to help out is welcome.”

Otis flashed him a grateful smile and Casey clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t take it out on the poor eggs next time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Otis rolled his eyes as he scraped out the pan. “Okay. Who’s ready for round two? No, not—Capp, you’ve had at least three breakfasts already, dude.”

“Bet you five bucks I can do six.”

***

Mouse

Mouse squinted at his phone, trying to make sense of the notification he just received.

CINDY added you to the chat ‘Secret Squirrel Chat’

That was…hm.

Questions.

He had a lot of questions.

MOUSE: Hi?

CINDY: Hi, Mouse! Welcome to our chat!

MOUSE: Our?

CONNOR: Hi

CINDY: It’s our secret in-laws chat

Mouse’s brain blue-screened for a moment.

CINDY: Relax. Breathe. I use the term loosely.

CINDY: It’s just a space for us to chat and plot as needed. I’ve been meaning to add you, but figured I should REALLY add you now considering everything that’s going on.

CINDY: So. How’s everyone doing today?

CONNOR: Will developed a fever and he started another bleed so he’s off getting some scans and bloodwork done. Waiting to find out if they need to go back in.

'Go back in' meaning another surgery, Mouse was guessing. He grimaced at the thought of telling Bex about that bit of news.

CONNOR: They’re going to try and bring Emery out of her coma this afternoon.

MOUSE: That's good, right?

He had his fingers crossed for something good to counteract the Will news.

CONNOR: Hopefully. There's a lot of variables at play. They might have to put her back under if it causes distress. It's kind of a wait and see situation.

CONNOR: If Will's okay to be left, I'll be headed up there so I'll try and keep you posted.

CINDY: And how are YOU, Connor?

Three little dots appeared and disappeared for a solid half a minute before Connor’s reply finally popped up.

CONNOR: Worried, but okay.

CINDY: I'll be by later to spell you off. No arguing.

CINDY: How’s it going over there, Mouse?

Oh. Okay. He thought for a moment before he started typing, not quite sure what to share.

MOUSE: Bit of a rough night.

Connor already knew that though.

Mouse thought back to Bex waking them up at 2 am with a piercing scream and then them trying to wake her up without aggravating her injuries. She’d been so out of it, even after she’d opened her eyes, grasping at them, asking if they were okay—

If this was real.

Jay called Connor so he could reassure her that he and Will and Emery were all still alive. It wasn’t until after that call that she finally seemed to be fully awake and refused when Jay offered to call Chris as well.

They’d ended up camping out her room; Jay setting up a little nest on the floor and Mouse dragging the arm chair she had in there over to beside the bed so he could stay close without jostling her. None of them slept much. Not with Bex still jolting awake every so often and Mouse and Jay’s eyes flying open every time she even twitched.

And now this morning…

MOUSE: Bex is still feeling sick. It’s hard to find stuff she can handle eating.

He was currently in the kitchen, making her some toast and cutting up an apple. Anything to make sure she could take her meds.

MOUSE: She’s still in a lot of pain, but Jay brought her his ribs pillow.

CINDY: His WHAT?

MOUSE: He’s got this pillow that he uses when he’s got hurt ribs. Hugging it makes them feel better so he’s loaned it to Bex. She says it’s helping.

CINDY: That’s great. I’m just stuck on the fact that he’s got a designated pillow for it. #HalsteadProblems

Mouse blinked at his phone. He definitely hadn’t had enough sleep to deal with this.

CONNOR: Glad to hear Bex is using a pillow. That’ll help. Now. How are YOU, Cindy?

CINDY: My parents have the kids today and Chris made me promise to rest, but I’m still worried about everyone so you have to keep me updated! Use the chat!!!

CONNOR: We will if you keep your promise to rest.

MOUSE: Go put your feet up.

CINDY: I’ve been horizontal this whole time.

CINDY: PS Chris is making the rounds this morning so…incoming. :D

Right on cue, there was a knock on the door of the apartment and the sound of Jay and Chris talking shortly after that.

MOUSE: He’s already here.

CONNOR: 😂

CONNOR: On that note…

CINDY: Updates! Don’t forget!

Mouse and Connor signed off the chat after reassuring Cindy once more that they’d keep on top of sending her updates. He pocketed his phone and sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t want to add to the stress that Connor and Cindy were already carrying, but part of him wanted to dive back into the chat and ask for more.

For more advice about what to do next. For reassurance that he and Jay weren’t completely screwing up here. Were they being selfish? Thinking that they could help and not just…add more hurt.

No. Mouse picked up the tray of food.

They could do this.

It had been a rough night, but they’d made it through. He could hear Chuck’s voice in his brain telling him to take it all one step at a time. They could do that, right?

He stood in the middle of the kitchen for a moment before blinking and shaking his head. “Why am I waiting for someone to answer me?”

He seriously needed a nap.

***

Bex

“I told you, I'm not hungry, Mouse,” Bex called out when a knock sounded at her bedroom door.

It cracked open anyway. “You still gotta eat,” Chris said, poking his head through the gap. “Don’t make me send Cindy over here.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Bex struggled to get herself a little more upright on her pillow pile, ignoring the shooting pains in her side. “Is everyone okay?”

“I said I was gonna check in,” he said, pulling the door close to him and not actually making his way into the room. “And I, uh, I may have brought you a visitor…”

A flash of irritation went through her. She’d told him she wasn’t ready to see the kids. No one was listening to her about anything. “Chris—” Bex’s sigh was cut off by a very familiar whine. “Kol?”

An excited bark followed by an ‘oof’ from Chris as he was pushed out of the way when Kol bounded into the room.

“Wait, Kol,” Chris called out and Kol froze just as he was about to leap onto the bed. “Remember what we talked about.”

Kol let out a plaintive little ‘aroooo’ as he looked back and forth between Chris at the door and Bex on the bed. Chris shook a firm finger at him. “You have to be gentle.”

Bex had to hold back a giggle as Kol snorted and huffed at Chris before hopping up onto the arm chair and then placing one very delicate paw onto her bed and then the other. He whined again as he got closer, tilting his head as he looked her over.

“Hey, boy.” Bex held out her good hand and he sniffed it all over before letting her pet his head. “I missed you,” she said. “Did you miss me?” He huffed again, licking her hand once and then tucking himself in beside her and snuggling in.

“He was going a little nuts at our place so I thought we could try out a visit since I was stopping by anyway,” Chris said, coming in and plopping down into the chair. He passed over a handful of papers. “Brought you presents from the kiddos. They made you some get well cards and pictures. Will and Emery too.”

“Aw, that’s—that’s really sweet.” Bex looked over the pages and pages of pictures and little notes from her nephews and niece.

“They were upset about not being able to see you yet—” He held up a hand, cutting off the argument that was ready to burst off of her tongue. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I get it, okay? I’m just explaining why you’re probably going to have enough artwork to repaper this room by the end of the week. Sending you stuff made them feel better.”

“Please tell them I said thank you,” Bex said, smiling a bit at the pages from Max. He was writing her some kind of get well story and had sent her the first chapter already. Then the next drawing caught her eye. “Uh…did you see this one?”

Chris leaned over to peer at it and groaned. “Yeah, Annabelle didn’t really get our explanation of what happened. Cindy’s on it.”

“Is this—is this me?” Bex tilted the drawing, marvelling at the amount of red. “And am I holding Ty’s head?”

“She’s very proud of you,” Chris said, a weary smile tugging at his lips as he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s definitely going on the wall.” She passed them back to Chris and he set the pile on her side table.

He turned back, setting his feet up on the edge of the bed and levelling a look at her. “Heard you had a rough night,” he said.

“It wasn't that bad. I think it's just the medication messing with my dreams,” Bex said and he narrowed his gaze at her blatant lie. Whatever. She was exhausted and she didn’t feel like getting into it right now.

Chris opened his mouth, probably gearing up to push the issue, but there was another knock and then Mouse coming in with a tray full of toast and fruit while Jay lingered in the hall behind him. “Alright, kiddo.” Chris slapped his hands on his knees. “I gotta talk to the boys so you focus on eating that—and I mean all of that—and I’ll come say bye before I go.”

“What do you have to talk about?” Bex tried to crane around Mouse who was settling the tray in her lap and aim a proper glare at Chris. “If something’s going on—”

“We’re just talking about schedules and boring crap like that,” Chris said, eyes darting off to the side so she knew he was fibbing and something clearly was going on. Something they wanted to keep her out of.

Well, that was bullshit.

Bex stared at Chris as she picked up a piece of toast and bit into it with a smile. “Sounds good.”

She waited a solid ten seconds after they had left her room and poked at Kol. “Kol,” she whispered and his head popped up. “You want treats?” Bex fed him a small piece of toast, smiling as his tail went crazy. “Good boy. Okay, you’ll get more in a second, but first you have to help me out.”

“Awoof.”

“Quietly.”

Kol boofed at her softly and she patted his head. “Open the door for me, Kol,” she said, nudging him toward the edge of the bed. “Just a little bit. And remember—quiet.”

He shuffled off the bed onto the chair and then down to the floor, hardly making a sound.

“Good boy,” Bex whispered as she watched him carefully make his way across the floor. Once he reached the door, he got up on his hind legs and grabbed the door handle in his mouth, gently pulling it down.

The door popped open. Bex and Kol froze, listening. The conversation in the living room didn’t pause and Bex had to hold herself back from cheering. Success!

“Okay, come here,” she whispered to Kol. He snuck his way back to his spot beside her on the bed and snuggled in. Bex fed him the rest of the toast and her apple slices as she strained to listen in on what was happening down the hall.

Something about Will…he had a fever? And he'd started bleeding again? That was—that didn’t sound good at all. What were they doing about it? Would he need more surgery? She had so many questions. Shoving the tray aside, Bex leaned further toward the door, wincing at the pain in her side. Now they were talking about Emery.

They were going to try and bring her out of her coma today?

Bex bit back a gasp. Frustrated tears sprang into her eyes and she scrubbed them away. She should have been told about all of this—someone should have—she should be there.

Ugh, she hated this. Hated not having her phone to keep in touch with Connor and Kira and everyone. Hated being kept out of the loop. For what? Her own good? Because she couldn’t handle it?

Bex had been handling everything life could throw at her since she was six.

This, for the record once again, total bullshit would not stand.

The sounds of the living room conversation started to slow and Bex returned to her spot on her pillow pile as quickly and as quietly as she could. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

Two could play at deceivery…no…deception-ness? De—ugh, her stupid, tired brain. Two could play at BEING A LIAR.

Her door creaked open and she heard a low huff from the doorway. “Bex?” Chris called out softly. She snuffled and turned into her pillow a little more.

“She’s asleep,” he whispered. “Looks like she ate everything though.”

“Oh, good,” Jay whispered back. “Finally.”

“Kol looks like he’s behaving so I’ll leave him here for now,” Chris said quietly. “I think he cheered her up a bit.”

“Keep us posted, okay?” Jay asked, his voice getting fainter as they walked back down the hall.

Bex waited, hearing the click of the front door closing, the murmur of Jay and Mouse talking to each other, and then the whoosh of water as the shower went on.

Okay, one of them was definitely occupied in the bathroom for the next few minutes so now was probably her best chance.

She braced herself, biting her lip against the pain as she got out of bed. Kol’s head popped up and she shushed him when he whined at her. “Stay here, okay?”

Shuffling as quietly as she could down the hall, Bex risked a peek into the living room.

Empty.

There was a clang from the kitchen and the sound of water sloshing as Mouse washed the dishes. Perfect. She sped up her shuffle walk as much as she could, snatching a hoodie off the back of the couch and grabbing her bag off the hook. Holding her breath, she opened the door—

Clink of dishes.

Shower still running.

No one noticing a thing.

Bex exhaled slowly as she slipped out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. Step one complete. Now she just had to figure out how to get to the hospital. Driving was out of the question, but once she was outside, she could try and hail a cab? Or call an Uber? Was her phone even in her bag?

She started up her shuffle again, making her way to the elevator. Screw it. She’d walk the whole way there if she had to.

A flurry of barks had her jolting, clutching at her side as it throbbed in pain at the movement. Kol. “I can’t believe he’s freaking tattling on me,” she grumbled to herself. Maybe she could at least get inside the elevator before—

The door of the apartment opened. “Bex?”

—before that happened.

“Bex!” Mouse called out, voice high and frantic. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

Jay came stumbling out after him, a pair of sweats clearly hastily yanked on and getting slowly soaked by the water dripping steadily down from his hair. “Kol, stay—stay! Mouse? Where’s—what the hell, Bex?”

She leaned against the wall, turning to glare at them as they rushed over. “No, you what the hell? Were you even going to tell me about Will and Emery?” She scoffed at the look they exchanged. “Unbelievable.”

“We were going to,” Mouse began.

“But you need to rest too,” Jay cut in. “We all knew—”

Mouse coughed.

Jay sighed. “Chris and I knew exactly what would happen if we told you everything right away, which was this by the way—you tearing off to go see them—and I'm sorry, Bex, but you’re not up to going back to the hospital right now.”

Bex straightened up carefully, willing back the pain so she could stare him down. “Fucking watch me.”

“You’re not even wearing shoes!” Jay exclaimed, flinging water everywhere as he gestured at her feet.

Bex looked down and blinked at her—hm.

Yup, those were her socks.

A bang had her head snapping back up—ow—and Jay and Mouse whipping around to look at the apartment door which was now very much closed.

Jay tried the handle, cursing when it wouldn’t budge.

Kol barked joyfully from the other side and Bex took back everything she said about him tattling. He really was the best boy. She settled against the wall again and watched as Mouse searched his pockets, shaking his head at Jay who hadn’t stopped cursing.

Bex cleared her throat, getting their attention. “I may have forgotten my shoes, but I’ll give you one guess as to what I didn’t forget,” she said, patting her bag and smiling as her keys jingled inside. “Let’s negotiate, shall we?”

Click here to read Fine is a Four-Letter Word on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3

@foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @emme-looou, @thebejeweledwatercat

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