charles rowland is not an idiot. he’s just a boy with ADHD and dyslexia who grew up in the 80s undiagnosed and being TOLD he was an idiot. and edwin makes charles FEEL smart, and he’s never felt like that before, edwin doesn’t care that charles gets distracted easily or hates reading because he knows charles is a damn good detective and an amazing, intelligent, wonderful person, even if he doesn’t believe it.
Summary: You tend to get hooked on things. It's part of your ADHD. Some things just stick in your brain. And at the minute, it's the self-defence training Bucky's got you doing after you got mugged. And you love it. But you love it so much that you start skipping meals, missing sleep, and deciding that redbull counts as a foodgroup to make time to train. So when everything in the gym becomes fuzzy and starts spinning, the only thing you want is your super-soldier boyfriend to make it better.
TWs: ADHD mentions/hyperfixation to a detrimental effect, fainting.
Jab, hook, block, switch.
You’d been at it for hours. Ever since you’d been mugged a few weeks ago, walking over to Bucky’s apartment just after sundown, Bucky Barnes had been a little overprotective. Okay, very overprotective. But it filled your heart a little bit, made you feel warm and cozy inside every time his hand rested on your lower back and he dipped his head to whisper a check in into your ear.
You’d shown up to his place shaking, mascara running down your cheeks, heart pounding fast, hands shaking uncontrollably. Bucky’s world fell apart the moment he’d opened the door and seen you standing there. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck in his gut and had immediately blamed himself. You were shaken up, but unharmed, except for a few bruises on your arms. Bucky had iced and pressed kisses into them like he was searching, begging, for forgiveness.
It had taken a week to get him to stop escorting you everywhere and another week to get him to stop blaming himself. That was when you’d agreed to training. Just some basic self-defence. You were no avenger, and you didn’t want to be. But you saw Bucky’s worried look that followed you out of each door. He’d tried to get you to learn right when you’d first started dating, warning you his life was dangerous and that he wanted to know you were safe. You’d told him he was all the protection you’d ever need. But then you’d been mugged. So yeah, some basic self-defence couldn’t hurt. Plus, you’d been meaning to get back to the gym anyway. It would be fun!
And it was. You trained with Sam and/or Torres three days a week, depending on who was at the tower and who wasn’t. You’d told Bucky a condition for you starting was that he didn’t train you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. You did. With your life. But accidents happened in training, planned or not, and you knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you. You didn’t need to put that on his conscience. You wouldn’t risk it.
And as you thought, you loved the sessions! Sam and Joaquin were great teachers; the latter’s excitement and enthusiasm balanced out the former’s seriousness and commitment to technique. You’d leave the classes with your muscles aching in the best way and your body tingling with a kind of aliveness you didn’t know you could feel. You buzzed. Literally, you felt like you were buzzing when you left training. You’d come home every time to show Bucky what you’d learnt with an excited smile on your face, and stories of Sam throwing Joaquin around demonstrating things.
And Bucky absolutely loved it. He’d let you throw him around the room and pretend to be an attacker so you could practice. He couldn’t help the smiles that bloomed on his face when your eyes lit up under his praise. He loved that you were safe now. But above all? He loved you.
You were both loving your new training regimen. But that was the problem. You were both loving it so much that it let you ignore the…problems…that came with it. The lack of sleep started because you were missing work hours for training, and needed to catch up on the time somewhere. You missed meals, accidentally, sure, but it was still happening. You’d be running from the office to training, forgetting to pack dinner because you were up late last night catching up on work, grabbing a red-bull and deciding that ‘would do’ as fuel. Plus, you didn’t want to stop your dance classes and hobbies just because you were training with the literal Avengers now. Somehow, you were suddenly out every night of the week, either training or dancing. You lost time to meal prep. You forgot to grab snacks on your way out the door. You’d leave training buzzing, energy only added to by the energy drinks that were fueling your training.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew training was supposed to be making you feel stronger, not weaker. You knew that the world wasn’t supposed to spin every single time you stood up. You knew constant headaches and three hours of sleep a night weren’t good. You knew logically that trying to keep juggling all the things you were doing wasn’t going to work forever. But you had it all under control. You genuinely thought you did. You’d spoken to your mentor about it, the man you’d gone to with everything since you were diagnosed with ADHD. Sure, you may not have given him the exact details, but you’d learnt that you were someone who ultimately just did better having more things on than not. It was how your brain liked to run. It was how you worked.
You didn’t realise that Bucky had started to get concerned. You’d happily eaten the apple that had somehow materialised in your bag for lunch. You signed in relief when you saw the laundry had been done and thanked Bucky with a home-cooked dinner that you definitely didn’t have the time to make. You didn’t realise that the concern in his eyes when you left the room had changed from one for your safety to one worried about how hard you were pushing yourself. Bucky had mentioned in passing that you could drop down to two days a week with the guys if you wanted to. You’d laughed him off, reminding him how much you were enjoying it.
You stood up from your desk, scrunching your eyes shut as the pounding behind your eyes made itself known and the room tilted and swam again. Somewhere, rationally, you knew that you were getting close to pushing a bit too far. It had happened in the past, and you were sure it would happen again in the future, no matter how hard you watched yourself, but you thought you could hold it off a bit longer. The weekend was just around the corner. If you could make it through today and tomorrow, you had two days to catch up on lost sleep and the mountain of tasks you had to do. And meal prep. And spend time with Bucky. And grocery shopping. And dance class.
Hands on your desk to steady yourself, you blinked your eyes open, standing for a second to make sure you weren’t gonna pass out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen at work - god, how embarrassing. As you straightened up, you pulled a can of redbull up to your lips, finishing it with a gulp before grabbing your training bag and slipping into your trainers. You heard the rustling of something inside your bag, smiling to yourself when you caught the glimmer of your favourite protein bar with a big yellow post-it in your bag.
‘Caffeine isn’t food! Nor is this really, but it’s better than nothing :) … seriously, doll - real food sometime today. Love you, JBB x’
You smiled fondly down at the bar in your hand, shaking your head a little and laughing as you pulled off the post-it, hanging it on your desk divider and ripping open the bar. The first taste of oats and sugar hit your mouth, and you groaned a little in delight. You would eat real food today, you knew you needed to, and that your loving boyfriend would give you his concerned, disapproving look if you didn't. You’d just have to do it after training.
The blast of cold air as you left your office building made the world tilt again, and the dull pain behind your eyes became more intense. Maybe you were coming down with something. You wrapped your scarf tighter around you, grumbling like a gremlin as you burrowed into the soft material and walked to the tower. You didn’t really remember getting there, or changing, but you must have done it at some point, because the next thing you know, you’re standing in front of a slightly worried-looking Sam Wilson, who’s asking, ‘did you hear any of what I just said?’ Embarrassment coloured your cheeks as you shook your head, an apologetic smile pulling at your lips, ‘Sorry, I guess I’m just a bit spaced out today.’ The frown on Sam’s face was now met with a look of concern on Joaquin’s, who was sitting over by the water cooler and stood up as he said, ‘Too spaced out to train?’ Sam jumped in, ‘There’s no shame in it, but we gotta keep you safe. Don’t want Barnes on our asses, he’d kill us if something happened to you.’
‘I-I don’t know, maybe?’ You started replying, realising that the world around you was spinning again, and that it wasn’t stopping. And Jesus, it was hot in here. Why couldn’t you catch your breath? FRIDAY’s voice crackled to life above you all. ‘I’m monitoring an increased heart rate, breathing and low blood pressure. Sargent Barnes is on his way up to this floor, but might I suggest you pause training and sit down?’
The worry in Sam’s face turned into panic as he started walking towards you, forcing a calm persona on his face as he shot both arms out, ready to stabilise you. You hadn’t realised you were swaying. Joaquin likewise started crossing the room. You turned your head between them, ‘I, uh, I dont - I think-‘ black spots were clouding your vision. The sound of the elevator opening pulled your head towards it, making the room spin even more violently. Head pounding, heart racing, all you wanted was to be with Bucky. He would help. He always did.
Bucky was running towards you, worry painting his face as fear ran through his steel blue eyes. You tried to take a step towards him, tried to get your body to cooperate, but when Bucky was only a step away, your knees crumpled beneath you. You couldn’t even move your hands to catch yourself.
Strong arms caught you just before your body collided with the floor, pulling you into the warmth of someone's chest. The last thing you saw was Bucky, looking down at you with horror in his eyes, his warm, calloused hands cupping your face, him saying something desperate above you, but the black patches of vision grew and you fell into them.
You were floating. Bobbing up and down in a warm sea. Your senses came back to you in parts; your vision combined with a blistering headache behind your eyes, your ears ringing before you could make out any sound. But when you do, waves of comfort roll over you, because somewhere near you, Bucky Barnes is speaking to you. His hushed promises sound like a prayer, repeating over and over again that ‘I got you, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.’
You’re in Bucky’s arms, some part of your mind realises. That’s where the bobbing was coming from. Hmm, maybe you’d fallen asleep watching a film, and he was carrying you to bed. It’d happened before. You just snuggled tighter into his chest, pressing into his warmth when the hand on your back shifts slightly, fingers brushing the side of your face. You struggle to force your eyes open to look up at him. The dopey smile on your face dissolves almost instantly when you see how scared he looks.
‘Hey, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You don’t gotta worry, you’re gonna be okay.’
The words wash over you like a calm wave, but before you can reply, Bucky walks the pair of you into a room with bright, sterile lights that make the pain in your head worse. You grimace, trying to burrow deeper into Bucky, and you can’t help but flinch as someone pulls your body from its comfort in Bucky’s arms.
‘It’s okay,’ he whispers above you while someone lays you down on something soft. ‘I’m right here. Not going anywhere doll.’ You feel his hands, the signature of warmth and coolness in one, wrapping around your own. You forced your eyes to open again despite their protest at the bright, clinical lights above you. Everything’s fuzzy, and you still feel like you’re floating, but you blink up at Bucky, your face crumpling into concern, seeing how worried he looks. You frown and try to sit up, to reach for him, to comfort him, but his hands are on you before you can, gently guiding you back down to the bed.
‘Nope, you gotta lie here for me right now, okay?’
In your daze, you still don’t understand what’s going on, why Bucky looked so worried. ’What happened?’ You croak out, looking up at him, and hissing as something sharp hits your arm opposite Bucky. Your head turns to the source of the pain; someone had put a needle in your arm. You try to form a word, but only let out a mumbled mesh of sounds before Bucky’s human hand is ever so gently tilting your head to look at him again.
‘You passed out,’ Bucky softly tells you, before he sighs out, ‘you scared the shit out of me.’
You go to say something, but Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, softly calming you, promising he isn’t going anywhere. ‘Shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Doll. You don’t gotta say anything right now, just rest yeah? I’ll be here when you wake up.’
You look into Bucky’s eyes once more, something in his face that is a merge of sadness and comfort convinces you he’s telling the truth. You nod into his hands, letting the darkness pull you under again.
The next time you wake up, the world comes to you more complete and with less pain. The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor and soft light of the evening greeting you as you woke up. Slowly, you blink your eyes open. Your body feels heavy and uncooperative, but peaceful.
‘You know, I don’t think they mean the whole ‘falling’ part of falling in love thing literally.’
You turn your head to see Bucky sitting at your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his eyes red and tired, but less scared than you remember last seeing them. You don’t know what to say. You know that Bucky’s only joking, trying to deflect the panic he’d been feeling, but shame flushes your cheeks nonetheless. Before you think of even a fake laugh, Bucky’s leaning over you, pressing a kiss to your head, one of promise and devotion, of love and care. He whispers above you, ‘You really scared me, doll.’ Your hand without a needle in it comes up to cradle his face, holding him for a second.
As he pulls away, the memories of what had happened flood your brain. You’d passed out in the gym training. Bucky had carried you here. You let out a groan, one of embarrassment and frustration. Before you even realise it, tears are welling in your eyes, threatening to fall. Bucky sees them and, in an instant, has moved to sit on the edge of your bed, his hand cradling your cheek.
‘Hey, hey,’ he jumps in immediately, ‘I’m not mad. You’re okay, we’re okay.’
‘I just-’ you swallow, ‘I thought I was on top of things. I thought I had it under control. I…’ you trail off into quiet, not knowing how to finish your sentence. Bucky kisses your forehead again, before replying gently, ‘I know. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. I know you can look after yourself doll. I promise, I know.’ You nod, the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. ‘I put too much on your plate, training too many days a week for too many hours on top of work and everything else. This is on me, doll. You were just tryin’ to make me happy; I’m sorry, I pushed you too far.’
You wipe the tears, flinching slightly at the pull from the IV line. ‘No, no, this isn’t on you. Hey, it’s okay. I like it, hell, I love training! I just,’ you sigh, your lip wobbling as you tried to calm down, ‘I let myself get overwhelmed, and I tried to barrel through. I thought I was on top of it, and I wasn’t. I thought I was proving something to everyone, to myself.’
‘You never have to prove anything to anyone, yourself included, love. Especially not when it leads to you passing out in the gym. I just - I should have seen this happening, and I didn’t. I let you push yourself too far, and you could’ve got hurt.’
‘It’s okay, Bucky. I promise, it’s okay. I got hooked on training and we both missed it - this isn’t on either of us alone. I thought I was okay, and this happened.’ Your hands clasp Bucky’s face now, gently guiding it until he’s looking back at you, ‘But we caught it. You caught it, okay. You saved me, literally. I’m going to be alright, baby, I promise.’
Bucky slowly nods, his own hands coming up to his face to match yours. He slowly brings your hands to his lips as he places chaste kisses onto the palm of each. You sit up, Bucky moving in an instant to help guide you as you pull him into a kiss, delicate, tender, united, before you come apart, simply resting foreheads against each other.
After a while, and without a word, you scoot over in the bed, opening up a space and gesturing for Bucky to join you. He looks at you tentatively, but your raised eyebrow shuts him up quickly enough. Careful of the various wires attached to you, Bucky gingerly climbs into the too-small bed next to you, helping you shift until your head’s resting on his chest. His fingers move to absent-mindedly brush through your hair.
‘You scared the crap out of the guys, too, by the way.’ You turn your head to look up at Bucky. ‘Joaquin made sure you got down here and has literally been hiding from me since. Sam hasn’t stopped standing guard outside your room, keeps texting me apologies.’ You let out a chuckle, nuzzling closer into Bucky, ‘they’re silly,’ you say fondly. ‘They are,’ Bucky agrees, ‘but they care about you. I’ve never seen Joaquin look so upset before, you know?’ You hum into Bucky, tired once more. ‘Although,’ Bucky carries on, ‘if you ever pass out from training again, I will kill them.’
‘Bucky!’ You cry in a mock-outrage.
‘What? I can’t have my best girl passing out on me again.’
‘Hmm, I’ll do my best.’ You jokingly promise. But Bucky’s face above you becomes serious once more. His hand continues running peacefully through your hair, ‘just so you know,’ he says, ‘you’re on bed rest until further notice. No work, no training. Just three meals a day, a shit tonne of water and move marathons.’
‘And will my very devoted, loving boyfriend be joining me?’ You ask.
‘Oh doll, I’m never leaving your side ever again.’
You let out a laugh at Bucky’s words, but you know a part of him is deadly serious. Once you’re better, you’re gonna have to use some of the tricks Sam gave you to sneak out. But honestly? As you cuddle back into Bucky, letting his fingers run through your hair, you couldn’t think of anything better. Just you, Bucky, soft blankets and movies. Yep. You weren’t exactly glad you passed out, but if this was the result, it wasn’t all bad.
AN - I kind of feel like this reader is the same as my reader in Take A Break. If people seem to like it then maybe it'll turn into a series...we shall see ! Much love as ever for anyone reading & sharing x
I hate that no one talks about just how distressing memory loss from adhd actually is. I always see memes that are like “haha I forgot my phone, I don’t remember where my laptop is, etc”, but no one seems to talk about how it can really fuck you up long term to just, not remember things that are completely mundane to non-adhd’ers. The memory loss is, however, so frustrating to us. I cannot physically count how many meltdowns I have had over the sheer mental frustration and torture of not being able to remember seemingly simple things
So....does anybody else collect lots of stills, scenes, and art of a character you're currently fixated on to help build imagination fodder for reading and writing fanfics, or am I just weird? 😗
Sirius: Have you ever felt like your entire personality is annoying and decided to change everything about yourself but then gotten distracted and gone straight back to how you always were?
James: I have ADHD. That is literally my entire life.
