#story update

[evienyx]

Peter Parker v. The Ao3 Author's Curse

Peter Parker just wants to be Spider-Man, graduate high school, and finish his fix-it fanfiction of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy. Unfortunately, no one can escape the Ao3 Author's Curse—not even a superhero. Over the years, Peter becomes quite infamous for his increasingly ridiculous author's notes, as well as his dedication to finish his story anyway.

A tale told exclusively through Ao3 Author's Notes and Comment Sections:

-

Happy birthday, Peter! To celebrate, here is a fic about Peter attempting to finish his Star Wars fanfiction despite the world and the Author's Curse seeming insistent on not letting that happen.

[sonder-slut]

i know that i’ve matured plug! aaron into a studious young man, but how would yall feel if i said i plan on doing a spin off with another version of him being a rough florida boy…? thinking….

[finaltimelineau]

[lilacxquartz]

CHASING HUMANITY

mundane au kenjaku x f!reader

on ao3 • first chapter • < previous chapter • next chapter >

plot: ever since 2015, japan has been plagued by mysterious deaths all over the country with no particular lead, until one day, you saw something you shouldn’t have.

summary: after the attack on the museum, kenjaku realises something about himself while working to get you out — a/n: sorry about the delay, the drafts are very messy and summer slows everything down a little. worry not though, i am determined to carry this through to completion!

Chapter 21. Sentiment

At some point between the flow of things and the information he still could not properly process, Kenjaku finally allowed himself to be guided away from the museum and into the daylight. Though even when he could breathe again, just life itself felt surreal. The skies were too calm despite the storm raging inside; both physically and mentally.

It also took him far too long to recognise that the building had been emptying itself efficiently, too, having spaced out for the bulk of it. Those who were otherwise caught up in the initial panic, like him, were in a similar boat, in which the course of events was difficult to catch up on. Many were still left huddled outside, coughing out smoke into their fists or shaking on the sidelines. Others, who truly weren’t so lucky, were arranged onto stretchers, some looking limp, while others were covered up entirely. Inside, the trickier cases remained.

Kenjaku just wasn’t sure where exactly he fit into the panic, if he had to admit.

Honestly, he mostly just hated the lack of control he had over his surroundings.

Yes, perhaps he was locked in on the realisation that he was profoundly helpless. Nothing seemed to be grounding him. Briefly, he had considered whether this was how people felt when he messed with them, or even took their lives, but even then, he could not find it within him to feel regret or remorse. Maybe this was a different sort of feeling, then, and one that stemmed from losing something he valued and wanted to maintain, than what everyone else must have been feeling. Fear? Panic? No. He could move past this.

Yet, the realisation of this led him to momentarily spiral, in a familiar way almost, in how he did before. The possibility of you potentially being amongst the dead was not something he particularly enjoyed, and at first, his mind tried to dispel the very notion of care, because you being gone surely was a non-issue, and even then, your final disappearance didn’t sit with him in the way he could handle it. He didn’t like the idea that just as things were finally starting to be less hectic, that somehow, he had led you to a place where he couldn’t control the outcome and he had lost you as a result. The lack of closure was suffocating. Besides, if you were later to be identified as a missing person, then it would still lead back to him. He had to prevent that, at least.

Of course. It was just that. Nothing more.

Even he had a sense of self-preservation.

Kenjaku made a decisive effort to tear himself out of such a pitiful stupor, catching onto the nearest first responder that he could isolate. He had successfully dragged him away without even garnering the attention of a witness amidst the distraction and the panic, and to his luck, it was a paramedic. The poor guy shook with so much shivering anxiety that he barely noticed that it was almost all over. Kenjaku made swift work of his end, crushing his head against the bricking of some inner alleyway, either knocking him out or killing him entirely in the process.

When he pulled the uniform on, he might as well have looked the part, though, considering how much of a mess he felt.

In a way, though, he wondered if he should have conducted a cleaner approach, because he might as well have printed his DNA on a stranger for the authorities to later find, but then again, he was already losing it enough without the consideration of leaving behind evidence. He didn’t care too much about that anymore, and so, regardless, stumbled forth into a group of EMTs, the sudden addition of someone they did not recognise giving them pause.

Though Kenjaku was quick with it. He made up some half-assed excuse that he more or less had been rerouted as a rookie, which was why he hadn’t been introduced to the teams just yet, and there were likely more on their way. He claimed that there was an issue with communication in an attempt to disclose the issue, because the scale was already overwhelming the hospitals and not reaching some, allegedly. The fake panic in his voice might as well have been what sold him, because his voice sounded far too rough, and the genuineness in it was believable enough.

So, when Kenjaku found his hands on a stretcher, he was advised to help gather supplies for those working inside, and he adjusted so well that everyone’s guard was immediately dropped more or less within under a minute. This part of the fake job wasn’t a lie to him, because he was in an environment that he recognised very well. Besides, it did not hurt to blend in, and in doing so, he was able to gather on and off snippets over what must have been going on.

One person, in passing, on the phone, said, “Yeah, it came from the inside, maybe planted?”

“—the secondary collapse impacted—” voiced someone’s news report, playing from their phone.

Two others in particular, much closer by, and far more approachable, however, were discussing among themselves while working, “Probably gang related, that two-face gang has been on edge for a while. No wonder.”

That was as good an opening as any, he thought, so he garnered the confidence to ask, just for the sake of confirmation, as a fellow EMT, more of the details disclosed from the conversation. Everyone else was more or less talking about it, so it wouldn’t have been strange for him to want to know more.

“Really think it was them?” he butted in, attempting to sound casual as he helped them both pick apart the debris.

One of the paramedics took the bait, answering with a tired voice. “Yeah,” he yawned, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Who else but Sukuna and his guys? They’ve been threatening something like this for months at this point.”

Kenjaku found himself nodding along: a gang reigning siege over a city without enough resources or national attention/care to take care of its own problem made sense; besides, he had, at the very least, heard of the guy, even if only slightly. Though he did find that every snippet of information was oddly boring to him. He found that he didn’t care about all of the nuances as much as he cared about getting back to you, because everything else was just background noise. It was frustrating, he thought, because in order to get through this, he had to gather intel, but he did not care about the passing drama, for once. Gangs, aside from that, were predictable; he could likely piece out what sort of sloppy plan this was and just how easily it must have been carried out. He could likely guess that because of the scale, this gang was also done for, because the only way these groups ever stayed quiet was because they targeted each other and other factions internally, and only ever disbanded—either out of force, or leadership issues—due to taking things too far. Eventually, greater forces would have to intervene.

Another thought ended up entering his mind again, recognising that amidst his reluctant investigation, the police might, along the road, indeed, just as he had earlier speculated, look more into this attack and find patterns linking back to him, indeed. His face, picked up on the CCTV, was an example, and of course, maybe yours, too. The DNA he left behind on the person he likely had killed. Everything was becoming messy. He shouldn’t have taken you here. Fuck. He should have been more careful. Even if he did look different now, too, with stubble poking at his chin and his hair less than maintained, biological evidence was not something he could hide from. If that person risked waking up, too, he could likely recount what happened or describe the attack. All of this was down to just how perceptive people were willing to be. How… bothersome, he concluded.

Which didn’t even begin to cover the most pressing issue of all:

That he hadn’t seen you come out of the building yet.

Therefore, all he could truly do was keep on listening as a result, because panic in that of itself was useless, because it prevented an intake of information. He needed to absorb as much as possible in order to move the slightest bit forward. Though even if he hadn’t seen you yet, it didn't mean that you weren’t out. You might have been among the many who emerged with coverings over their whole bodies, because the damage was enough to have been fatal. You might have been grouped up somewhere and, by some miracle, have been recovering while he spiralled. You might have been rolled right past him while he couldn’t see anything but a lapse of plummeting control, and therefore, likely, could have been safe. He wanted to believe that you were in the final stage of that assessment. He didn’t like any other possibility, not even the one where you were alive and kicking, speaking to others, because that somehow conflicted with his guilty little desire of keeping you isolated to his side only. Ideally, you were a bit out of it. Ideally, you might cling to him, just enough to calm him down, to affirm to him that the control was still his to keep.

Kenjaku tried once more to keep himself steady, his voice coming out as both clipped and as precise as he could realistically manage as he attempted to weasel himself towards the hospital that the bulk of the help was going towards. He made up some excuse that the central line of communication urged him to return, and somehow, amidst the panic, nobody even questioned his motives or asked for proof. He supposed that he was lucky in that regard because of the collective panic, especially when each spoken response he could offer sounded relatively official and educated. Perhaps it was the case that in times of uncertainty, most people were content to accept authority and direction, because anything else felt unstable.

That’s how he eventually found himself riding off to the hospital, too, because there was more help needed on the inside than the outside, as it turned out, though he wouldn’t do a single thing, because his intentions were still selective. Thankfully, it was the one where all the initial victims went, so he would likely find you in it? God. He hoped. He would pretend in passing to move through where he was instructed to go, but he wouldn’t linger, and sure, he might grab what was needed along the way, giving them to the right person, but he would disappear into the sidelines just as quickly. The lobby, otherwise, even to him, was swamped with far more than the interior could handle, and he had seen a lot when he did have such a job. Far too many gurneys were hauled through the corridors for anyone to stop and think about him, the still undetected anomaly, as he worked to serve his singular agenda, which hopefully led him to you, among the fodder of everyone else.

And then soon, by some miracle, his efforts were rewarded.

It sure did take a while, though.

He found you after searching like a madman for what felt like hours, even though, realistically, it must have been far less. When time felt vital, everything felt either too slow or too fast, so Kenjaku must have been trapped within a sensation of both mediums. It felt nauseating to pace himself as soon as he recognised you.

That aside, he observed you to be sitting upright, though lying half-down on a suspended bed, which was a good sign already because you likely did wake up during the flow of things. You were likely also in a recovery pose, and therefore would be checked up on soon, which spiked urgency into Kenjaku, because he did not want others to check in on you if he could. This little hiccup down the road would be his burden to carry, if anything. He observed that you had oxygen tubing fitted under your nose and face, though parts of you were marred with the location you had been extracted from, so your body was still enveloped in debris, making the damage look worse than it was. A memory flashed into his mind, and he did not miss the way in which he saw you levitate earlier on, recognising that the fall must have been significant enough to hurt. He also spotted several other things, like the rasp of your breathing and the slight, small cuts around your jaw, but even the clipboard itself wrote nothing more than a few scribbles of inhaled smoke, being the bulk of the damage, so the relief he felt was very much immediate.

Indeed, you were sitting up. You were breathing. It didn’t seem like anything was broken.

You… were… fine.

He found himself stepping closer, his body guiding itself to you as if pulled by some unknown force, causing him to stumble just a little. His eyes moved around your body. He could, he thought, likely treat you privately. He knew how. The hospital was far too packed to focus on the people who had a better chance of recovery anyway, so it was a good opportunity, he gathered, to just pull you away and take you somewhere else. Besides, this part of the wing was empty enough. Hardly anyone was around by the time he made it here, and now, it seemed even more sparse.

Kenjaku, as a result, could not waste this opportunity—

—Already moving to fulfil his plan.

This meant unhooking you from the wires—carefully—so that doing so would not alert any such nurses by the front desk, though they must have been distracted by other matters. Still, he did not wish to risk any further unwanted attention. He wanted to go in, extract you, then get out as quickly as possible.

And, as he worked, he found himself even going as far as to fuss over you. His voice was low and annoyed, murmuring all sorts of lightly scolding, but almost nurturing things. “You’re fine,” he said once, before repeating it a few times a few moments later, preparing to lift you from bed. “You’re fine. Fuck. I’ll make sure you’re fine, so don’t you dare complain.”

He guided you upright, keeping you steady the whole time before slipping his hands right beneath you while hoisting you up. When he could finally step away and carry you off into the hallway, even though he was not familiar with this hospital in particular, figuring it out was pretty straightforward. Hospitals, in general, no matter where they were, were built in a certain type of way that meant directing people outward as much as they were designed to keep them in. A contradictory design, yes, but it was no different to an airport. It relied on a certain type of flow, of service corridors, but also emergency exits. He used guesstimation, mostly, to eventually find the outside, meeting with the now cool evening air, which finally caused a stir from you.

Not that you were waking up at all, but you did twitch. A good sign.

Kenjaku, however, continued to move quickly, not bothering to stop for too long. Like usual, his escape route had to be spontaneous. It would be too obvious and too attention-grabbing if he took an actively running vehicle, or even dared look at an ambulance, so he went to the longer stay lot, which was indeed, just like that of an airport. All sorts of cars were parked there, but he didn’t care for the modern type, walking quickly, trying to avoid the fleeting gazes of potential passers by, until he finally found a beat-up old model of a car that he could hotwire with some effort.

When—or rather, luckily, by some miracle—the car ignited into motion, he broke past the boom gate, gulping thickly as he did so, hissing at the damage, even if it did not stall the vehicle down at all. Maybe it dented the thing at most. He only really cared about being quick to get away. He didn’t care too much about whether he was being watched, trailed, or suspected anymore at all as much as he cared about reuniting himself with the only person he had ever met that made anything ever feel bearable at all. In that right, you were a source of comfort, and with you gone for that brief moment, he had nothing but himself, which he disliked.

Then, you stirred partway through the drive, waking up properly that time.

“What…” you started, sounding profoundly confused, your voice all rough from the smoke and the fatigue.

Kenjaku swerved over to the side, pulling over at once, hissing slightly as the wheels screeched from the sudden motion. Gravel crunched under the tyres, and right before he cast you a look, he only sighed, briefly pressing his forehead against the steering wheel before pulling back.

“You’re awake?” he asked. “No, of course you are. You’re fine. I told you that you would be fine.”

You tried again. “Wha—”

He replied instantly, sounding a bit skittish, as if he were afraid that you would hurt yourself from speaking. “Don’t talk just yet. What did I just tell you? You’re fine. So stop.”

You quietened down at his erratic mood, though you didn’t really feel the need to question him like you typically would. Whatever he said or didn’t say right now hardly mattered. You were still catching up on what must have happened before. Briefly, you remembered a noise and then heat and pressure catching up to you before it all went dark, then bright lights and the sound of machinery beeping, of all sorts of people prodding at you, but barely being awake to process it. You disliked how comforting waking up to Kenjaku next was, considering how much he had hurt you before.

Kenjaku, too, was going through something similar, oddly enough. His thoughts were eating him alive as he forced the silence.

Then, as if it were to break the quiet, he drifted slightly towards you, his proximity feeling a little invasive. He moved so eagerly that briefly, he was pulled back by the seatbelt, finding he needed to unbuckle himself to get even near you, but then paused when you flinched as soon as he tried to reel you in.

It was odd, he thought, because he was trying to be affectionate. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He just wanted closeness. That was as kind as he could have been, and surely, you could recognise that.

He wouldn’t do that for just anyone, but he genuinely had missed you.

“Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of me?” he scoffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Seriously?” though, as asked that last word, vulnerability was very much evident in his tone. His composure wasn’t the greatest right now.

“I’m not,” you were quick to insist. “I don’t even know why I flinched.”

Kenjaku breathed out of his nose, retaining that disbelieving smile. “I guess… you’re probably still out of it? Is that it?” he asked, trying to think about how you wanted him to react, even if, deeper down, he wished that you would just accept the way he acted for who he always was. Like he did with you.

You shrugged in response, trying to calm down a little. “Yeah, something like that,” you said, feeling as your heart slowed after the initial reaction. “The sudden closeness just threw me off, that's all. I genuinely can’t tell you why I reacted like that, though.”

He sighed heavily, wanting to so desperately believe you, and yet.

“You’re sure it’s not because of that thing from way before?” he risked asking.

You blinked at him, biting your lip in thought, but still acting purposefully oblivious. “What thing?”

He blinked back at you, quickly growing annoyed. “You know. That thing. At that fucking house,” he replied. “I pushed your boundaries, didn’t I? If you’re still bothered by it, then I won’t blame you.”

You found yourself folding your arms, your body language retreating in on itself. “I mean, yeah, but it doesn’t really matter right now, does it?” you muttered. “What’s done is done, and it hasn’t really been an issue when we were out doing stuff, has it?” you asked, trying to sound convincing, swallowing a thick gulp of air down. “Besides, we agreed to move past it, didn’t we? At least quietly.”

“Yeah, and that’s the thing,” he added, his hands tightening on the wheel briefly before relaxing, “you don’t sound too happy about it,” he pointed out. “Look,” he continued, trying to change the subject and yet, at the same time, keep it relevant. God. He had so much he wanted to say. “I don’t know how much time we both have left, and I’d really not end this hating each other.”

You scoffed quietly at him. “Why’re you getting so sentimental anyway? Let's just move on.”

A laugh tore out of him. God. You were so infuriating, he thought. Why? Why? Maybe because he thought that for a good moment that you were dead, and he hated that idea. Maybe because he thought you were seriously hurt. Maybe because he had almost lost you and then just barely found you, and that alone was because of sheer luck. Maybe because you made his sorry life fun and he couldn’t remember the last time he was miserable, let alone bored, because your weird little mind full of unhinged thoughts was what was keeping him from losing himself for good?

He clicked his tongue. “Fuck, I don’t even know at this point. You’re the most frustrating person I have ever met, genuinely,” he said, almost in a resigned tone. He was so done with you. “I’m just… very certain that we’re in deep shit. That’s all. I’m so sure of it. I… left behind a whole trail of evidence. I think we might be going down? But that’s okay. I think I can happily rot in prison, but not if it ends like this.”

“What are you even talking about?” you asked. “Did you hit your head?”

He scoffed, reaching out to nudge you on your shoulder, finding some relief when you didn’t flinch that time. “Well, before, I was searching for an answer to what the hell was even the point of my existence, or anyone else’s,” he tried to explain. “I thought if I pushed people beyond their limit, then I’d find something out.”

“Or did I hit my head?” you asked yourself, blinking at the roof of the car.

“It’s hard to explain, I know,” he continued, pressing ahead. “People are all too desperate right before death to offer anything coherent, so maybe that’s where I went wrong. Whatever answer they might have had was likely just to get me to stop and let them live, but obviously I couldn’t do that,” he half-laughed. “But… with you, I think I have experienced something different. I have experienced a distraction—have experienced fun, and maybe that’s all life is. Maybe I’ve been chasing the meaning for so damn long that I have probably found it long ago, but have lost myself to it.”

“Kenny,” you said, softer that time, in an attempt to ground him.

He turned to you. “I’m not making sense, am I?” he asked. “I think I just mean that I have found my meaning and I’m finally ready to settle with it. I just want to… make the most out of what’s left.”

“Before you go to jail for life?” you asked. “Bummer. I’ll visit you in jail, though,” you added, trying to tease him to lower the tension.

“Oh, no, no. I’m going to make sure we both go down,” he vowed, suddenly looking both serious and mischievous at once. “I’m going to sink us in such deep shit that we’d both be severely guilty. We’ll be so unforgettable.”

You blinked at him, watching him get ahead of himself for a moment, before stopping, his voice coming out as more of an afterthought.

“I want to be your worst memory,” he said, “and for you to be mine.”

Indeed, this time, he was done trying to outrun consequences, and more importantly, he would keep what he had left.

(How unlucky for you?)

[writing-in-lesbian]

Matter of Heart - Act II - Part II

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader, Kate Bishop/Fem!Reader Word count: 10k Translation: detka = baby A/N: second instalment of Act II. Told 90% from reader’s POV. 10% from Wanda's and Kate's POV to enrich the story and make some events make sense later on.

Y/N POV

My mouth opens before any other thought fully catches up.

“Kate…aximoff”

“Oh… that’s unfortunate,” she whispers in my ear again. There’s a cold sensation where I suppose she’s standing.

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep

I try to force my eyes open again.

"...aby" // "Jelly...."

Blurryness before the light. I blink. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a black haired nurse in green pass by the hallway. She seemed familiar.

I feel softness under me. It’s not that comfortable. There's a blanket around me? It feels stiff.

I caught a glimpse of something white.

My body feels groggy. A cold sensation down my arm, as a frozen liquid runs through my veins. I want to scratch it.

I feel a hand stopping me from moving.

I breathe, and the air is icy. There's something on my nose. I breathe, but my side hurts.

Muffled voices start to become clearer.

“Look who decided to join us,” there's a new voice. Female, older. Kinda soft.

My eyes focus on the world around me. A room. A white room. I see my mom. Her eyes are looking at me like when I was a child, and I just told her the most ridiculous story.

At the foot of my bed, there's Kate in her favorite plaid shirt. And Wanda, wringing her hands.

The lights are too strong. I close them again a little bit.

A faster beep-beep-beep-beep sounds on my right. I open my eyes and turn to look at it. The black-haired nurse in green pajamas is here. There's something really familiar about her. She's inspecting the monitor as if it personally offended her.

"Easy there." The soft voice calls me on my left side. I blink, trying to keep the focus on my surroundings.

"Nice to see those eyes open," I keep trying to follow her, when I feel a shift at the end of my bed. My brother sits on the bed.

"I'm Carol, one of your nurses. I've been taking care of you today." She looks at the monitor and writes something down.

"Is she okay?" // How are you feeling, honey?" // Nice scare you gave us, sis." //You good?"

I can feel their eyes on me. I want to speak, but my throat feels so dry.

Carol, I think she said it was her name, adjusts my bed. The sudden change doesn't agree with my body. The room spins.

"Slow breaths. They'll help with the dizziness," Carol says.

A glass of water comes from someone. I sip it. The liquid helps with the dryness of my throat, but the metallic taste increases tenfold.

Carol ushers the people around me off my bed. I want to tell her no. I have no energy left. I close my eyes.

"Now, now, let me see those eyes again,"

When I open my eyes, she's in front of me. Her sandy hair is short and styled. Her blue eyes scan my face.

She then shines a light briefly and straight into my eyes. I hear myself grunt and close my eyes.

"I know. Everybody hates that part, but I need you to keep your pretty eyes open for me."

"Maybe if you didn't flash a light directly at her, she would." Is that Yelena?

Carol doesn't answer. I look at her. She shines the light again, and I try not to look away. I have a feeling this is my best option. She writes something down again.

"I feel like I fought a dinosaur and lost." Is that my voice? It sounds raspy and rough.

Kate chuckles. Wanda smiles sadly.

Cof. Cof. Cof.

When I grab the cup again, I notice an IV connected to my right wrist. The transparent tube is taped to my arm to keep it in place with white tape.

"Something like it, sunshine. Now," she grabs my right hand. "Can you squeeze my hand?"

I do. Or I think I do. I'm not sure if what my fingers did counts as one. Carol raises an eyebrow.

"Strong grip. I like that." She keeps writing.

My mother gets closer but stops when Carol turns to look at her.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N," I hear sighs around.

"Good. Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital?"

"Right." Carol writes more notes. Looks at the monitor.

The nurse in green sits in the chair. Odd. Carol closes her folder and turns to leave.

"Everybody needs to take a step outside. I'm going to get Dr. Banner, and we will need a couple of minutes. After that, you can come back in. Maybe two by two. Please. I know you've all been waiting, but let us do our work."

Somebody grunts. Probably my brother. I see my mom smile at me and leave. Wanda lingers there. I make eye contact with her. Her eyes avoid mine. Kate waves. I wave back. Or I attempt to.

Once they're all outside, I take a quick look around.

Beep-beep-beep-beep. The monitor speeds up a little. I breathe. There's the sensation that something happened to me. I feel a hollow in my stomach.

I close my eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Beep-beep-beep-beep. Breathe in. Breathe out. Beep-beep-beep-beep.

"I was wondering which version of you would wake up corazón." THAT voice. I feel my heart speed up.

I open my eyes, and I see the nurse in green still sitting in one of the chairs. The doors are closed. She's eating something from an orange pill container. She looks oddly at calm. Her eyes are looking into me like I'm a quiz she's trying to solve.

"Are you allowed to eat those?"

Looking at the bottle, she reads the label... then tosses another pill into her mouth.

"Probably not"

"Figures," the ceiling offers a better view than her unsettling smile. I heard the door open again, and in comes Carol and a middle-aged man, glasses perched on his nose, scrunched like intimidated by Carol. I wait to see if they're going to say something to the nurse.

The chair is empty except for a folded blanket.

"Glad to see you awake, Miss Y/L/N. I'm Dr. Banner, and I'm your neurologist at the Stark Memorial Medical Center. I'm going to ask some questions, okay? If you can't speak, just nod or shake your head."

I nod.

He grabs a small light and shines it into my eyes. I squint but try to reopen my eyes. Just like with Carol.

"Good. Can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N"

"Good. Open your mouth, please." I want to throw up when he puts the wooden stick on my tongue. "I see a redness on your throat. She'll need some perioxidin 10ml, three times a day to help."

Carol writes the instructions. Dr. Banner keeps checking my throat. Finally, he puts his light aside and throws the stick.

"Do you know what day it is?"

I think. Nothing. I have a feeling it might be Tuesday? I love Tuesdays.

"I'm... not... sure"

"That's okay. I'm going to let your primary contact enter." Dr. Banner leaves the room. Carol stays, adjusting the IV bag. I hear the drops drip faster.

She comes closer, checks my left arm. A bandage is there.

"Okay, sunshine. Do you feel any pain?"

"Does my whole body count?"

"Look at you making jokes. Pain medication is scheduled to be given in an hour. Can you hold?"

"I feel dizzy". Carol stops and looks at me.

"You look a little pale. Let me grab you something for it. And I'll let your loved ones enter. I'll come back and finish my revisions, okay?"

"'Kay"

I hear the door close. A hospital room wasn't on my plans. I try to remember the day. My head hurts, and breathing is difficult. I breathe in and feel like a needle on my side. Breathing out is easier. Now I know why the air felt icy, as the tube on my nose helps as an indicator.

There's a knock on the door.

Carol comes without waiting for an answer; in her hands, there's a clear brown glass bottle. Using a needle, she draws the liquid from the bottle and injects it directly into the IV line.

"This will help," I just nod. "Your primary contact is on her way. Do you want me to let anyone else?"

Before I can answer, the door opens, and Wanda steps in. She hesitates at the door. Playing with the few rings on her hands, arms crossed in front of her stomach. I thought she had more rings. She looks at me, her eyes are a little puffy.

"Can her mom and Kate enter too?"

Carol looks at me and proceeds to nod. When I see them, Carol just tells them to give me space while she is still examining me. I see Kate enter, grabbing a chair, pushing it close to the bed, but not that close. My mom lingers around my right side, trying not to examine the monitor.

Wanda is the one who comes closer to the bed. I make a motion to grab her hand. She plays with my fingers but doesn't hold my hand.

I feel Carol's hand on my rib. "Breathe," I do as told. It hurts. I flinch.

"I'm going to lift your robe. Can you turn a little?" I try, and I'm reminded of the dinosaur fight I had. I yelp.

"Jellybean!" Kate immediately stands up. Wanda gets closer.

"I got you," Carol's voice says, and her hands support my upper body. I feel her fingers probing my body very gently. Still, hard enough it hurts. "Your ribs took a pretty good hit. Nothing's broken, but they're going to be sore for a while.”

She writes something down for the tenth time. Look at the IV bag, the monitor, and then at me. She fixes my sheets. "I'll bring you an ice pack in a bit. It'll help with the swelling. Don't go anywhere." She winks before leaving.

There's a silence after Carol leaves. I don't like it.

"How are you, sweetheart?" My mom gets closer. She kisses me on the forehead. Grabbing my hand, being careful of the IV needle.

"I lost against a dinosaur. My whole body hurts."

"I'm just glad you're okay." She caresses my head. I can feel her eyes on my body. I close my eyes, letting her touch anchor me. She then proceeds to fix my pillow. I smile.

"How does it look?" I ask with my eyes still closed.

"How does it look like what, honey?" The gentle touch of my mom's hand on my hair is lulling me into sleep. I open my eyes again. I don't want to go back to the darkness.

"The dinosaur."

Kate laughs. Wanda sighs.

I reach for Wanda.

"Hey, gorgeous." There's a hint of recognition in her eyes, and a tear rolls down her cheek. She gets closer this time, not taking my hand but caressing my fingers. Her touch is tentative.

I look towards Kate, crouched on the chair, leg bouncing. Signature black boots, moving slightly.

"You gave it a black eye," Kate says, biting her nails. My shoulders relax.

"Good," My head feels heavy. Probably the medicine Carol put on the IV. I don't want to sleep.

"You should rest," my mom says. I feel the space on my bed as soon as she takes a step back. "We'll be outside when you wake."

"Mkay, mom."

I see her waving at Wanda and Kate before leaving the room.

"Your mom's right, Y/N," Wanda says, and this time it's her hand that's stroking my hair, tender. Her touch feels familiar, instinctive even, but somehow distant. Something in me hesitates, barely leans away. But she feels it.

My eyes drift toward Kate. She's sitting farther away than I expected.

"Why are you so far away?" Kate perks up.

"Who? me? Oh well, you might not see it bean, but there are a couple of cables attached to you, and I really don't want to unplug anything." I laugh, but then I am reminded of my Rocky Balboa moment and grab my ribs, letting go of Wanda's hand.

"Easy there, detka." Wanda's hands gently guide me back to the bed. My forehead scrunches before I can stop it.

"What did you call me?" I grab her hand. Her thumb traces my hand. Wanda looks at me, tilting her head to the side. She opens her mouth, closes it again.

There's a knock on the door, followed by Carol entering. She has some white ice packages around a blue towel. Without saying anything, she goes straight to my bed.

"I'm going to let this one here. Apply it for a few minutes, as long as you can stand it. Once the cold becomes unbearable, remove it and rest for a few minutes. Then apply it again." She instructs the occupants of my room.

"Now, Miss. Maximoff, I need some signatures on some paperwork. Can you come with me?" Wanda nods. Carol goes out.

Before she leaves, and before she lets go of my hand, I grip it tighter, making her turn to look at me. Her eyes silently ask me why I’m preventing her from leaving.

"I guess we're going to miss the play tonight?"

"The play?" she knits her brows. There's her famous tilting.

"Water for elephants? We finally got the tickets," I say, remembering it was a pain since it was sold out for weeks.

"Y/N..."

Kate stands up, coming closer, taking the ice packs Carol left. She inspects them before applying them carefully to my side. The action is tender in nature, but there's something else I cannot decipher.

"No worries about it, right, Wanda? Let's get you out of here first."

"Right. I should go see Nurse Carol." Wanda leaves the room, leaving me with Kate.

I get the feeling I'm missing something. The medication is taking effect. I feel my eyes drifting to sleep. Kate's hands apply a small pressure on my ribs.

Before I'm taken into dreamland again, I feel a ghost of lips on my forehead.

The scent of coffee and rain lingers behind it.

WANDA'S POV The paperwork takes forty-three minutes.

I know because I counted them.

By minute five, I'm still confirming Y/N's address. By minute twelve, I stop reading the forms. By minute twenty, I stop pretending to. By minute forty-three, all I can think about is: Water for Elephants closed eighteen months ago.

"Neurological responsiveness", I heard Dr. Banner say in passing, as Carol and a male resident walked with him. “She's following stimulation and shows emerging consciousness.”

I look up, but he's already gone.

Y/N POV When I wake up again, it's due to the scent of fresh forest and flowers. My eyes scan the room slowly. I feel more awake than... well, the last time I opened my eyes. Now, if this little nagging pain in my head could go.

There are a couple of flowers on a table near the window. I see some yellow and pink gerbera daisies. Next to them, a single sunflower with a note, a couple of red and pink roses. There's an otter plushie holding a cup of coffee. And a "Get well soon" balloon tied to it. At the end, a bouquet of white and pink lilies and a small raccoon holding a gun? I almost missed the envelope next to it.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Mom closes her book and comes to me. She grabs my hand.

"Tired"

"Dr. Banner said it's normal," she fixes my pillow again. Adjusting my sheets. Like she's tucking me into bed. It feels nice being taken care of.

"Your coworker Natasha came by during lunch with the otter plushie. Don't fret, she said, not to worry about work. Mr. Rogers sent the roses, your team sent the lilies." My mom grabs the card from the gerbera, the sunflower, and the envelope. She gives them to me. The card reads from: Yelena, Scott, and Peter.

"Katie brought the gerberas, told me to tell you she'll come back as soon as she can. She only left because Yelena practically carried her out." I smile. I can totally picture Yelena dragging Kate. I wouldn't be surprised if she carried her out like a sack of potatoes.

"What time is it?" I don't know if it would make a difference, but I want to know at least the time I'm living.

Looking at her watch, my mom informs me it's 5:32 p.m. Should I ask the day?

"Wanda wanted to stay too, but I sent her downstairs to eat something."

There's a knock on the door, and a male nurse enters my room. He has a chart in his hands. As he gets closer to the monitor, he starts writing things down.

"Hi there, sunshine! I'm Donald, last name Blake! I'm your nurse for the day." For a male nurse, he's kind of muscular. I see getting the small light again. What's with all the eye inspection?

"Now, please can you follow my finger?" I do as told. At least he hasn't flashed anything in my eyes. "Good. Open up, please?" Another throat examination.

"Have you had any nausea?" I shake my head no. "Are you hungry?" At the mere thought of food, I feel a wave of discomfort in my stomach. I guess it's visible since Donald makes a uh sound.

"Would you like some ice chips then? If it were up to me, I would bring you some Poptarts, but I don't think your stomach would agree on them." I nod, not trusting my voice and my current feeling.

"Be right back then," He leaves shortly after that, not without waving back at my mom.

There's a chair being dragged when I open my eyes. At what moment did I drift to sleep? Based on the bright light above me, I guess it's nighttime.

My head is pounding. There's a noise coming from the chair. I look to the side, and I see the black-haired nurse sitting there again. Her scrubs are a different shade of green, less vivid but wrinkled. She's opening a pudding cup. A vanilla one.

The room feels smaller somehow. There are small drips of water on the flowers. Who watered the flowers? The tube on my nose is itching. It makes me want to sneeze.

"It would hurt if you do it."

Achoo.

Fuck, my ribs disagree violently.

"Told you!"

"Tha's ma pudding?" because how do you answer an "I told you so" when that's the last thing you want to hear?

She looks at the cup, looks at me, scans the room, and laughs.

"Ain't a meal tray for you here."

"Oh, you're awake," I hear Wanda's voice coming from the ensuite bathroom door. A second later, she steps out, wiping her mouth with a towel. I turn to look at her. And God. I can't help but feel butterflies in my stomach... but why is it followed by an emptiness? Like my stomach wants to patch a hole that's not there?.

She pauses for a second as if gathering herself before smiling

"She's eating my pudding," I signal to the chair.

Empty.

Right next to my bed.

I hear a laugh in the hall.

"What pudding, Detka?" Wanda comes closer. Sitting next to the bed, where the chair is. She grabs my hand and caresses the back of my hand. I feel her kiss it.

"You keep calling me that," I close my eyes. My breath evens out. I feel in and out of the world.

I barely catch her whispering, it means baby. I don't smile.

KATE'S POV The kettle's sound brings me back to the present. Yelena was right. A bath would help. As I pour water into my cup, I think about your comment about the missed play.

Water for Elephants closed eighteen months ago.

And even though I watched it with my mother rather than with you... We obsessed together over the soundtrack.

The coffee tastes burnt. I don't remember making it.

An alarm tells me visiting hours are about to begin again. I should bring coffee to Nurse Carol for allowing me to stay past that time.

Y/N POV "Can I have more ice chips, please?" My mouth says before opening my eyes. My throat doesn't hurt as much, but I need something fresh.

"Of course! You want nuggets, crushed, cubes, spheres, flakes?" Carol's voice informs me. I didn't know there were varieties of ice chips.

"Flakes?"

"I'll bring them over. Here, drink water first." She hands me a small plastic cup. I take a tentative sip. It feels like glory. "All your visitors are somewhere around. I ask them to give me some minutes to do my check-ups."

"No coughing? Can you swallow okay?" I shake my head when she asks about coughing. Swallowing doesn't hurt anymore. Guess the strange red liquid they have been giving me has helped with it.

"It's 10 a.m. Breakfast was served an hour ago, sleeping beauty, but let me see if I can bring you something soft. I bet you're starting to get hungry." The thought of food doesn't bring me too much joy, but I'll trust her.

"Can I have vanilla pudding?" Carol stops before leaving the room. Kate walking in almost knocks her over.

"We serve those for dinner. You're not getting princess treatment yet," she acknowledges Kate by nodding.

Kate enters the room, leaving her purple hoodie and bag on the small couch next to the table. She's going to sit there, but second-guesses and engulfs me in an awkward side hug. A foresty fresh scent.

"You smell nice. Is that a new perfume?" I ask, grabbing her arm, sniffing her wrist. I kinda love the smell.

"What? No jellybean, you gave it to me last Christmas." I only see her back. She walks back to the couch. Knitting my brows, trying to recall it. Kate's smile falters for half a second before she looks away. Her eyes become distant, like when she's trying to calculate something.

At that moment, Wanda and my mom enter the room. They greet her like war brothers or something. I actually feel left out.

Dr. Banner knocks on the open door. He hesitates before entering, taking notice of all the people here.

"Morning, Miss. Y/L/N. I heard Nurse Danvers will bring you something to eat." He opened his charts. Glasses come out of his pocket, and he cleans them before putting them on. "Miss. Maximoff, I have some medical updates. Would you like them here for the update?"

"Absolutely, yes, please." Wanda sits next to me on the bed, carefully taking my hand. I look at her. Her red hair is loose. I always like it when she leaves it like that.

"Okay, well, first of all, Miss Y/L/N CT looks stable, meaning the swelling in her brain is decreasing. Obviously, there was no need for surgery. Her left wrist is sprained, along with her right ankle, and she has a couple of bruised ribs."

"So I lost against a dinosaur and A truck?" I question because now that's a lot of things happening.

"The dinosaur remains under investigation," Kate says from the couch. She smiles at me. I know her. That smile doesn't fully reach her eyes.

I heard Wanda gasp next to me. When I look at her, I see tears forming.

"Hey." I try to get her attention back to me. "I'm okay. I'm alive." She fondly smiles at me. I feel pecking my lips, but she's standing up before I can really react.

"Let's do a quick assessment of how you're doing today." He takes out the infamous light. Shines into my eyes. I don't flinch. "Can you follow my finger?" I do as told.

"I'm going to ask some questions."

He asks my name. Y/N Y/L/N He asks where I am. At the hospital. He asks about the day. I'm still not sure. He asks about the people in the room. My mom, Kate, my best friend since forever, and Wanda, my girlfriend. He asks about how long Wanda and I have been together.

"Six months," I say proudly.

Three gasps can be heard.

Dr. Banner knits his brows, writing something down, observing them. Then at me.

Carol enters with a food tray in her hands. She stops a little but keeps walking. Pushing the small wheeled table towards me and placing the tray on it.

"I was able to bring you some jello, salted crackers, grape juice, and applesauce. Sorry about the pudding, pudding." Carol nods at Dr. Banner before leaving again.

I look at my delicious hospital food. Wanda helps me into a more comfortable position. She tentatively lifts the lid of the tray.

"All your favorites, detka," I smirk. There's a hint of restrain on her voice. Sadness maybe?

"Now, can you tell me where do you live?"

"188 Park Avenue, Suite 37," I told the doctor while I munched on my salty crackers.

"That's-" my mom stops herself.

Dr. Banner turns to look at her,

"Dr. Banner... I don't know if this helps. She mentioned missing Water for Elephants," Wanda says, trying to whisper. He looks at her.

"What about it?"

"It closed eighteen months ago," Kate adds. Wait, what?

I stop munching. Did I hear that right? The play closed?. The lights are starting to hurt my eyes. I flinch.

My mom sits in the vacant spot Kate left. Kate's foot bounces. I know she's anxious. Wanda caresses my hair. I lean into her touch. I'm not sure whether to comfort her or show support.

"Right. Let's continue."

He asks my age. I answer, but not that confidently. He asks about my job. At Roger's & Carter's Corporation. He asks if I remember the accident. No. He asks if I remember moving apartments? I never moved.

Someone chuckles. Or sniffles. I'm not sure.

I look at Wanda. Then at Kate. Then at my mom.

Nobody corrects the doctor. Nobody tells me this is some weird misunderstanding.

Dr. Banner keeps writing. He walks to the monitor, takes some notes, and checks my IV fluids. He asks before reviewing my ribs. They still hurt. My ankle and wrist come next. More writing, more revisions. Finally, he takes off his glasses and closes the chart.

"I'd like to review your file and imaging in more detail. I'll be back in a few minutes." He leaves the room.

I feel like I failed something. I got nauseous. Carol told me once there was a button on my bed if I needed something.

I press it.

"Honey?" My mom, ever the perceptive gets closer. I shake my head.

"I wanna throw up."

Carol enters at that moment. Having heard what I say, she turns and comes back with a crystal brown bottle. Applying it to my IV, she puts her hand on my forehead.

"You okay?" I mouth no. "Too much information?" I nod. "Salty crackers might help. Here. Drink your juice. I'm bringing you more chips. Are flakes okay?"

"I'll have it crushed if you can."

"I'm the Captain of the nurses. Of course I can, pudding." Carol adjusts my sheets, being really careful with my ankle.

"Bean?" // "Detka?"

"No. I don't feel good. I wanna throw up."

"Medicine should help you with it."

"Can someone lift my bed a little more?" My mom steps before Wanda or Kate can move. She presses the button. The bed moves slowly.

Breathe in. Fuck! My ribs disagree. Breathe out. Easier.

I close my eyes. Breathing slowly so as not to be in so much pain. Where are the ice packs Carol left for my ribs?

The room gets quiet. Someone rearranges the sheet over my legs. The nausea eases enough for me to think again.

When I open my eyes, the sunlight has shifted across the floor. I scan the room. My head doesn't try to kill me anymore. I don't see my mom.

Kate's half asleep on the couch. It doesn't look comfortable if her leg is bending in that way. Wanda's looking at her cellphone. Her brows are furrowing, and she bites her nails. Nervous.

"Wands?" I whisper loud enough for her to listen, but not to wake up Kate.

Wanda jumps a little. I didn't mean to scare her. Putting her cellphone back in her pocket, she comes closer. Grabbing my hand, she sits on the chair next to my bed. Her thumb caresses my hand. She doesn't say a word. I look at her eyes. There are bags under, she probably hasn't slept much. She's been crying as well. She looks at me. She's sad.

"My mom?" I still whisper.

"She went home. Say she would be back later tonight to change us, Kate and me."

I nod. Because what else is there to say? Another night at the hospital.

Kate shifts on the couch. Grunting, she sits, her back cracked probably from the minutes she spent in that awkward position. She sits, stretching her arms. She finally makes eye contact with me.

"Shine and rise, Katniss," she perks up. Her eyes shine, and there's that signature smile. She comes closer.

Wanda makes a move to stand up, but my grip tightens. She stays. Kate comes to the other side. I pat the side of the bed instead.

"No bean, there's still tubes and cables, and I don't wanna be held responsible if I sit on your IV and make you blee-" She stops herself. Furrowing her brows. She shakes her head, but sits at the end of the bed. Away from any potential damage. She cracks her knuckles. Once. Then again. Kate only does that when she's nervous.

"What time is it?" Surprisingly, I'm starting to get hungry.

Kate takes a look at her cellphone. Wanda is the one answering.

"It's 7:13 p.m."

"Carol left another food tray for you. Since you missed lunch."

"Is there pudding?"

"A vanilla one," Kate holds the cup. She handed it to me open. I see her licking the lid. "For a hospital, ain't that bad. They got the good brand."

Wanda's phone vibrates. Again. And again. And again. She takes a look at it. Puts it back in her pocket. The cellphone vibrates differently. Incoming call.

"You should answer it. It seems important," I told her while licking the cup. It's hard to have cutlery at the moment. It is, in fact, the good kind.

"You're more important," she tells me, but still looks at her phone.

Carol enters the suite. She navigates the room, doing her usual check-up at the monitors, my wrist, my ankle. She chuckles at my poor attempt at eating.

"I think someone can help you."

"I can manage," I say while I lick my cup. Kate comes back with a spoon. Takes a dip. And eats it.

"Rude!" she smiles. Wanda laughs.

"You said you could manage it."

"Can I come in?" Dr. Banner's voice sounds from the door. Someone nods as he enters.

"Miss Y/L/N? Do you have a few minutes?" I can only nod. Letting aside my pudding cup, I sit straighter on the bed.

He takes off his glasses, cleans them, and puts them back on. He opened his chart, passing some sheets, probably looking for a specific one. He clears his throat.

"Based on your imaging, neurological exam, and memory testing… We believe the injury has affected your ability to access certain memories."

"What does that mean?" Kate asks. She's perched on my bed. Her hand has come to rest on my good leg. I can feel her fingers tightening.

"This is consistent with retrograde amnesia."

"Certain memories?" I ask, trying to comprehend the meaning. Not really paying attention to the medical term.

"The pattern appears to involve memories formed within approximately the last two years. Based on what we gather, more or less," He's looking at his folder.

"Would she get them back?" Wanda stops caressing my hand, her grip falters.

"We don't know it yet. Memory recovery after a brain injury is difficult to predict. Some patients recover memories gradually". He finally closes the chart. He looks directly at me.

"Some receive them in fragments. Some memories return when they're exposed to familiar places, people, or routines."

Carol fusses with my pillow before leaving the room. I notice it's actually softer.

"Right now we don't know whether those memories were lost or whether your brain is having difficulty accessing them."

"There's a difference in it?"

"Yes. One is a book missing from the library. The other is a locked door.

Dr. Banner gathers his things. He approaches the door.

"Unfortunately, we don't always know which one we're dealing with."

He leaves the room.

There's a silence so thick I'm afraid to even breathe. I close my eyes. And even if breathing hurts, I breathe in, breathe out. Thousands of needles remind me that this is real.

The air feels colder somehow. A nagging sensation on the back of my head. Migraine definitely. I feel dizzy.

Carol comes back with ice chips. Crushed. She gives me the cup. Checks my IV. I see her adding another pain medicine into the IV. She gets closer to the monitor I have come to love and hate. Checks the vitals, writes them down.

She then turns to face Wanda and Kate

"I know what Dr. Banner said was difficult to process. But I don't want anyone trying to force memories." Carol explains as if she has done exactly this many times. "Answer her questions. Correct factual inaccuracies when necessary. But don't pressure her to remember. That can create frustration and stress."

The last thing makes me feel helpless and relieved at the same time. Carol leaves, not without saying she'll bring me dinner and my medications at 9 pm. I'm not hungry.

I take a look at Wanda. Her eyes are lost in the distance. Kate stood up, hand still on my knee. Her other hand plays with her own fingers. Neither of them has said anything.

Wanda's phone vibrates again.

I suddenly realize something.

They said Water for Elephants closed eighteen months ago.

We got the tickets. We saw the play.

I don't remember it.

I feel a tear roll down my cheek. I dry it with my "good" hand, and Kate notices it. Doesn't comment on it. I love her for that. I finally ask what has been on my mind since Dr. Banner's first test.

"What day is it?"

"Monday. You've been here for almost a week," Kate looks at me, her smile falters when she told me the number of days I've been at Stark memorial.

Almost a week. Water for Elephants closed eighteen months ago.

Almost a week feels like swimming on a kiddie pool. Eighteen months feels like drowning in an ocean.

There's a hallway ahead of me. Closed doors on both sides. It's dark. I see a light twinkling above a door, ten steps ahead of me. I'm about to grab the handle but the hallway stretches, taking the door out of my reach.

"Jellybean," Kate whispers, and I run towards her.

"Detka," Wanda's voice calls me, screaming. I stop.

The hallway spins. I try to run out of it. I know I'm running forward, but everything around me is moving backward.

"That's not how roads work, cariño"

I hear her behind. I risk a look. The dark-haired nurse is at the other end of the hallway, in green, vivid scrubs, holding a stop traffic sign.

Smiling.

A flash of light shines into her face, and there's a glimpse of bone on one of her cheeks. The eyes pierce my soul.

I open my eyes. I see my mother slept on the couch. A blanket is over here. I let a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"You're still trying to go backwards, I see."

I see her standing right next to my monitor. Casually eating a pudding cup, adding pills from another orange container. I open my mouth...

"Ah ah ah," she shakes a thin finger in front of me, "You can call me honey if you want," She keeps eating. Her hand gently strokes the monitor screen, where my heartbeat is visible. A strong, steady beat.

“You're the first I've met trying to find old time." She tosses another pill into her mouth. "You can wake up now.”

There's light in the room. The sun has come out, shining through the thin curtain. My mother is no longer on the couch, and the blanket is folded neatly. I hear sounds coming from the ensuite bathroom. Kate comes out of it.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," she says so casually. Her hair is loose, looks a little wet, revealing small waves. I smile before knowing I'm doing it. It frames her face perfectly. I frown.

"Ugh. Not you too"

"Sorry, but that's all you've done." Kate sits on my bed, carefully avoiding any kind of tube, bandage, or parts of my body she could squeeze. "I think you earned it... But I still prefer jellybean."

"Uh... is there still pudding?" Kate looks at me quizically. One eyebrow rising so high it could leave her face. She smirks after it.

"No, Donald said they were out of them, but he left you a food tray. I took the job of going through it and checking. I sneaked some poptarts and a chocolate milk though."

"No coffee?"

"Of course you'll want coffee." She laughs. Fully laughs. My stomach does a weird flip. "Stupid question but... how're you feeling?"

“That’s a loaded question, Bishop”

“Entertain me,” she says while taking out a package of Blueberry and another of Brown Sugar Cinnamon poptarts. I point to the blueberry ones.

Kate opens the package and offers me one.

“My head keeps pounding. Breathing hurts, my mind is mushy, and someone keeps stealing my puddings.” I munch on my poptart. The sweetest thing I tasted in the last few days. I’m not sure I’m allowed this amount of sugar.

“I’m sorry, Bean.” Kate scoots closer to me. Her hand rests on my thigh. Her thumb caresses it absentmindedly. I feel my body loosen a little.

Wanda comes into the room. A file in her hands. She closes it and puts it next to her purse. She gets closer to my bed. Pecks my lips.

I feel the absence of Kate’s hand on my thigh.

“Hi, gorgeous,” I say, and notice the bags under Wanda’s eyes are bigger than the last time I saw her. She also looks a little pale. “Are you okay?”

She chuckles, eyes shining with tears not shed.

“I should be the one asking you that,” I feel her fingers through my hair. I’m starting to relax. Her cellphone rings. I tense up. She sends the call to voicemail.

“I’m okay now, my two favorite girls are here.” Wanda pauses her ministrations. Kate stops midway to the couch.

Both look at me funny.

What?

Dr. Banner chooses that moment to enter. He eyes my poptart but doesn’t comment on anything. He comes closer to the bed.

“Your scans have remained stable. Your neurological exams have been consistent, and you’re forming new memories appropriately.”

“At least”

“The memory loss is something we’re going to monitor over time. Unfortunately, there isn’t a procedure or medication that restores those memories. That doesn’t mean they won’t return.”

He opens a small folder and writes something down.

“It’s that it?” Wanda says, she continues caressing my hair.

“No. Neurologically, she’s stable. The memory loss is something we’ll continue to monitor, but there’s no additional treatment I can offer her here.”

He rips the piece of paper. Donald enters, grabs it, takes Kate’s other package of poptarts, and leaves.

“I know discharge can feel sudden. But medically, she’s ready.”

Kate sits on the couch, arms resting on her knees.

“Carol will review medications and restrictions. Donald will make sure you have your follow-up appointments and contact information.” Dr. Banner smiles at me then. It’s kind of awkward. He proceeds to leave.

“Well… at least I’m going to finally eat proper food”

“Maybe we should start cleaning?” Wanda stands up and starts gathering things. Some flowers are a little down already. Those are put aside. She grabs the plushies, the balloon, and letters, and puts them in a recyclable bag she carries in her bag.

Carol appears at the door. Asks for Wanda as my principal emergency contact; she needs to sign the last of the paperwork.

Wanda goes out, taking with her the folder she brought earlier.

Wait…

At that moment, Donald comes in.

“Big day today, princess!” He has a metallic tray in his hands. Some scissors, cotton, bandages, and alcohol were placed there. He carefully closes the small lid on the IV bag, lifts my arm, and inspects my hand.

“Kate?” She stands and comes closer to me.

“What’s up, bean?”

“Weren’t you my Emergency Contact?”

Her eyes look at me, blue irises scanning my face. A little bit of a visible smile.

“You updated it after you and Wanda’s first anniversary”

“Right,” I focus instead on the cold sensation of the alcohol Donald is applying to my hand.

What else has changed?

He carefully takes out the tapes, applying the alcohol with the cotton when necessary. Finally, he asks me to inhale while he takes out the needle. He puts a cute bandage on it.

“No blood! I’m getting better at it!”

He then comes next to my chest. Takes out the electrodes monitoring my heart. The monitor sounds flat. He turns it off.

“Now, I’m going to take this out, and you’ll be able to finally breathe free”

“Bruised ribs, Donald,” Kate tells him. They seem pretty friendly. Back off, Donald!

Donald slips the tubing from behind my ears. The room feels cooler immediately.

I immediately rub my nose. “That’s been bothering me for days.”

“You’ve been asleep for most of them.” Kate reminds me of her beautiful, oh so sarcastic smile plastered on her face.

“Still counts.” The constant itch I’d been ignoring disappears, leaving only cool air against my skin. My ears feel sore.

I feel Kate’s eyes on me. I look up to see her scanning me, observing me. I suddenly feel exposed.

“I’m okay Katniss”

“I know. Just… making sure Donald didn’t accidentally give you another bruise”

“I would never!” He finished inspecting my arm, my nose, and my ribs. Everything he can do before releasing. “I think you’re all set up to change out of these horrible hospital clothes.”

“Are you saying I don’t look good on them?” I feel lighter without all of these things attached to me. I try to sit by myself.

“You look good in everything, Detka,” Wanda says from the door. She’s followed by Carol.

“I see Donald has already finished with you.” Carol comes to the bed, pushes the slippers on the small stool next to the bed. “I believe they have clothes for you. Get changed, and I’ll come back with the last details and instructions, pudding”

Carol and Donald leave the room.

Now changing is another thing. Wanda takes out a small bag from one of the cabinets, a shirt, a pair of shorts, a zipper hoodie, and underwear.

The clothes are unfamiliar. Are they hers? She then takes out a smashed cellphone, the screen is cracked. The cover looks like it saw better days.

“I brought the comfiest clothes you have, darling”

So they’re mine.

“I’ll wait outside,” Kate says and goes out of the room. Faster before I can stop her.

“Turn around as much as you can,” Wanda instructs me. I feel her hands untying my robe, fingers brushing my back. Her hand takes off the robe from my shoulders. She circles the bed, stands in front of me. “Careful,” she helps me get out of the robe. I hear her gasp when the robe falls on my lap. I look down and see a purple bruise stretching from beneath my left breast across my ribs, disappearing around my side.

“No wonder it hurts,” I say to defuse the tension I felt. Wanda’s hand touches the bruise, a feathery touch along the bruise. Tracing it. She stops right on my breast. She moves her hand towards the center of my chest. My heartbeat beats faster. I’m sure she feels it based on how her hand falters.

“Lift your arm,” Wanda helps me take off my t-shirt, kinda hard with the wrist brace. The zipper hoodie is faster. “Now for the short,” she lifts my right leg. Now for the left one…

Right. I forgot about the boot. Apparently has been there the whole time. Wanda switches techniques, and somehow it fits.

“All done,” she helps me sit back on the bed. Fuck! I'm exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Wanda hoovers

“I just… I need a minute, slow breaths. Trying to get my breath back.

At that exact moment, Kate comes back, followed by Carol pushing a wheelchair.

“Your chariot awaits,” Kate says and comes closer, offering her hand.

“Such… a gentle…woman,” I say, short on breathe.

Kate doesn’t comment, doesn’t take her hand away. She just waits patiently.

Carol then grabs the folder she has under her arm.

“Okay, sleeping beauty. I already gave your primary Emergency Contact the boring paperwork. Now, listen carefully: No driving until neurology clears you. No alcohol”

“Boring!” Carol side eyes me. But continues.

“Avoid strenuous activity. Take medications as prescribed. The instructions are on this nice goody bag you’ll have”

“I get tired trying to dress, how would I do any strenuous activity?”

“Monitor for worsening headaches.” Carol ignores me. “Call immediately if you experience vomiting, new confusion, vision changes, or seizures”

“Well, now that’s a bit extreme”

Kate and Wanda help me slow walk to the chair. Kate gets behind the wheelchair. Wanda starts grabbing my plushies, the few flowers left in good shape. The bag with my things.

“Now, given the memory impairment, we don’t recommend independent living at this time.”

I motion for Wanda to give me something to carry. She places the plushies on my lap.

“Meaning?”

“You need a babysitter pudding. Where are you staying or who’s taking you home?” Carol asks.

Wanda stops and looks at Kate.

“My apartment is big enough for someone to stay if that’s the issue”

Kate places a hand on my shoulder.

“Bean”

“You didn’t renew your lease when we moved into my apartment,” Wanda says, she searches my eyes.

I’m the one avoiding her eyes now. I look towards Kate, but she’s looking at the floor.

“Of course,” The words leave my mouth automatically.

A sharp ache blooms behind my left eye.

Of course. Because I don’t have an apartment anymore. Because apparently I haven’t had one for a while.

“Maybe… you can stay with me?” Kate says, voice low, fingers playing with my hair.

“Remember not to stress her out too much,” Carol casually says. I see her dropping something else on my medicine bag. She places it on my lap as well. I can see there’s a vanilla pudding there. So they still have those.

“Perhaps… for now it would be the best,” Wanda says. She waits for my reaction.

I just play with the bag.

“What do you say, bean? Sleep party like our college days!” Kate starts pushing the wheelchair outside the room.

“At least I remember those,” I hold my plushies as if they’re some kind of guardians.

I feel a hand on my shoulder that wakes me up. I groggily lift my head from the window.

“We’re here, bean.” Kate leaves the car and goes immediately to my side. Opening the door, she unbuckles my seatbelt. “Stay here.”

She goes to the trunk, and that’s when I see Wanda leaving the backseat. She carries the folders, the plushies, the flower, and the bag.

Kate comes out and hands me a pair of crutches.

“I can walk perfectly fine,” I say, trying to get out of the car first.

“I’m sure you can. Entertain us then.” Kate steps back and watches, amused by my losing battle with the boot, the angle I need to shift, and standing up.

“Use the crutches, detka. It will make your life easier,” I look up to see Wanda smirking.

Maybe for this time. I signal Kate to give them to me. She helps me stand up. I adjust my weight. Kate’s hands are on my waist, and I notice how close she is to me if I can smell her laundry soap on her clothes. I look at her face. Is that a new piercing in her ear?

Once I’m standing without balancing, Kate steps out, her hand in front of me just for precaution. Wanda comes next to me. I smell her flowery perfume. There’s a faint memory of it from our first date. She walks alongside me.

I know Kate’s apartment number. I know the hall like the back of my hand. I could recognize the doormat anywhere.

I don’t recognize the living room. There’s a bookshelf where she had the couch and a plant. The plant is nowhere in sight. The couch has been moved in front of the massive TV.

“Finally, Kate Bishop. I was worried… oh, here’s the patient. I see the girlfriend is still attached to the hip,” Yelena says casually from the kitchen table.

“What… are you…doing here”? I wobble to the couch. Sitting, leaving the crutches next to me.

“I live here now.” There’s a weird sensation in my stomach hearing those words.

“No, you don’t?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Kate says, bringing me a cup of water. “Drink this.”

Wanda walks past me, probably to the guest room in Kate’s apartment. Should I say my room now?

Yelena gasps dramatically, “Is this how you treat your guests? After all the time I spent cooking my famous Mac&Cheese for your lov-“ Kate hands stop Yelena from saying whatever she was going to say.

“Iuuuu.” Kate drops her hand. “You licked me!”

“Don’t do that again, then,” Yelena goes back to the kitchen at the same time Wanda comes back. She sits closer to me, grabbing my good hand.

“Yelena, can you help me set up Y/N’s room?” Kate balances on her toes. I look at Yelena, furrowing her brows.

“What? I’m not helping again to-”

“Yelena…!!” Kate half screams, half whispers, making Yelena walk towards the room, whispering Russian words. I bet she’s cursing at Kate or us.

I keep looking at the hall where they went until Wanda catches my attention by grabbing my leg. I look at her.

The sun shines on Kate’s apartment, giving it an aspect that I have always loved. The lights reflect on Wanda’s hair. It almost looks like she’s glowing.

“Detka, I have to go now. I need to go home and bring you clothes.” Home. I built a home with Wanda, one that I don’t have a recoil of doing. My smile drops. Wanda noticed if her thumb caressing my leg is an indication.

“Kate said she has some spare clothes you can use, but I’ll bring your clothes, underwear, toiletries, and some other things, okay?” I just nod.

She closes the distance very carefully, and I feel her lips on mine. I reciprocate her kiss, but even without my injuries, Wanda feels distant. I’m the one pulling away first.

I saw her grab her purse. Walking towards the door.

“Wands?” She turns to look at me. I’m starting to dislike the worry and sadness I see on my favourite shade of green.

I want to ask her about a million things. I want to know what our apartment looks like. How did she think the best thing for me was to stay at Kate’s? Why do I feel like she’s not choosing me?

“Don’t take too long,” Wanda gives me a tiny smile.

The door closes.

There's rain falling against the window. The sound is like a melody written a long time ago. I walk among several bookshelves. Books from ceiling to floor. Entire rows of them. Titles I don't recognize. Titles that look familiar. Some have titles I can't quite read.

There's one that catches my eye. I reach for it, but I can't move. I pull as hard as I can. My arm doesn't move.

The window trembles from the thunder. The lightning shines in the dark hall. I caught a glimpse of green scrubs coming towards me. Another thunder, louder this time. The rain becomes a storm. Crashes harder against the window.

"Interesting choice," the dark-haired nurse appears in front of me. "Funny how you tried so hard not to think about this one"

I can't move at all.

Car lights reflect on the window, a loud screech of tires, the floor trembles, and the book I want falls from the bookshelf. I try to grab it, but my body still refuses to move. I feel my breathing increase.

"You're pulling too hard corazón," The nurse says right next to me. The lights reflect her face, a glimpse of bone under her smile. I try to look away, but my head doesn't move. The bookshelves switch into a narrow street. I see Kate kneeling; there's blood on her hands. I want to reach her.

My body doesn't obey me. I feel my legs walking, but the distance doesn't narrow. Wanda passes running next to me. She's on the phone. I try to turn and look where she's going. The nurse tilts her head.

I feel cold arms around me. A freezing sensation descends from my body, my stomach, down to my legs, leaving through my feet.

"Stooooop!" I know my mouth is screaming. I don't hear my voice. "Make it stop!"

"Go now."

Strong hands shake my shoulders.

"Hey, hey, bean... wake up!" I open my eyes to see Kate shaking me lightly. I throw my arms at her. I feel the tears running down my cheeks.

"You're okay. Shhhh. I'm here, you're safe." I feel her arms strengthen her grip on me. She gently rocks me back and forth. Holding my trembling body.

I feel a shadow on the corner. Opening my eyes, I verify is just the curtain moving, the window is open, and the light breeze from the rain enters through the small opening.

After a few minutes, Kate stops whispering lovely words into my head. She steps back, hands still on my body to make sure I'm okay.

"Better now?" She asks. I nod.

"Just... a bad dream." I grab her hands, inspecting them. Making sure there's no blood on them. I turn them again and again, inspecting every inch of the hands that by now, I have memorized.

"Would you like some water?" She asks once I'm done with my inspection. I nod again, not trusting my voice.

She stands up. A thunder sound, followed by the lightning. I jump a little. I grab her arm, preventing her from moving.

"Don't go!! Can you... Can you stay with me tonight, please?"

"Of course. Let me close the curtain." I see her walking to the window, and the light from somewhere reflects on her body. Long legs show under her purple pajama shorts. An old archery t-shirt complements it. She makes her way back to the bed. Lifting the covers, she scootches closer to me, leaving a short distance between us.

I search for her hand. She meets me halfway. I don't want to sleep again.

"Go back to sleep, bean. I'm not going anywhere."

I close my eyes.

The bruises are getting this yellow, greenish color. It still hurts like hell breathing. I'm sitting on the couch browsing something to watch on the ridiculous catalog Kate has a subscription to while my leg rests on a cushion, with ice packs over my ankle. I hear the microwave popping, and the air starts to smell like salty popcorn.

Kate comes back to the couch carrying the snack and a soda. Placing the items close to me, she grabs her laptop and sits on the other side of the room. She smiles at me before going back to work. Benefits of being a big shot and owning half of her mother's company.

I finally decided on a version of my favorite Reality show, a chef's competition. The last season I remember is the past one.

Kate's phone sounds. She sees the notification.

"Wanda's downstairs," Kate closes her laptop. Only the noise from the TV. A different kind of silence. "I'll buzz her in."

A few moments later, there's a knock on the door. Kate stands up. I hear the quiet greetings they exchange. Wanda is the first one to come. She places a bag on the floor. She's wearing a red hoodie with the logo of a school. She lifts my leg, places the cushion next to her, applying the ice carefully.

"You know? I think we're out of cereal and coffee. And Yelena finished the boxes of mac and cheese. I'll go grocery shopping real quick!" Kate grabs her purse, her hoodie, squeezes my shoulder, and leaves.

"Hi, gorgeous," I acknowledge Wanda. She maneuvers to give me a peck on the lips.

"What were you doing, detka?"

"Catching up on shows. Want some popcorn?" I ask, passing the bowl towards her. She politely declines.

"I actually brought you something," Wanda says and retrieves the bag she put on the floor. She handed it to me. A bow is attached to the bag.

"Isn't our anniversary right?" because at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if that's something I completely forgot. I joked about forgetting Yelena's birthday, and she almost cried.

Wanda chuckles, but the smile is sad.

"No, you haven't forgotten it. It's just something I thought you might like." I take out the ribbon, carefully removing the staples from the bag. When I open it, there's a beige mug. Simple.

"A mug?" I ask, trying really hard to think if it should mean something.

"You used to drink from it every Tuesday"

"That's... oddly specific. But I do love Tuesdays"

"I know. You are oddly specific." You are. Not were. I smile, thanking her.

"I like it. Kate's coffee mugs are too small, and she keeps the big ones on a shelf I can't reach. Believe me, I tried"

She smiles, and I get captivated by that.

"You look different. Your hair is longer than I remember." Wanda pauses for a second, then proceeds to arrange the cushion on my ankle. Watching my empty glass, she stands up and refills it. She comes closer this time, rearranging my leg, asking me to scoot over, so she can sit on my other side.

She hugs me, her hand absentmindedly playing with my hair.

It feels familiar.

"You always do that"

"Do what?" she keeps stroking my hair. I feel her hand doing it absentmindedly.

"Take care of things before I ask."

"Well, I like taking care of the people I love." I turn my head and grab her lips. She gasps but responds eagerly. A few seconds later, I feel the urge to breathe. And it hurts.

"It's okay. Come here," She guides my head to her chest. I let her cuddle me while I fall asleep.

My armpits are sore from the crutches. I don't care how many cushions they adapted them with, after a while, I get sore. And exhausted.

I'm still pretty much on house arrest since the last time I tried to join Kate and Yelena grocery shopping, despite Kate's attempt to hide the fact that we were out of cereal, and now we have four bags of Cheerios, which we absolutely didn't need; I barely made it to the elevator before reconsidering my life choices and asking them to give me a minute.

Kate sent Yelena on her merry way to buy our list and walked me back to the apartment. I felt bad because pretty much she has been on house arrest as well, so I sent her to take a bath, to relax.

"Why aren't you using the crutches?" She asks as soon as she comes out of her room and finds me walking. Well, more like limping/jumping on my left foot to the kitchen.

"I am!"

"I saw them in your room!"

"You didn't specify the time of usage," I bat my eyes at her. She does a full eye inspection and notices I don't have the boot on. Oh-oh.

At that exact moment, Yelena enters with more grocery bags than she left with, and I'm pretty sure the list Kate gave her has not been fulfilled.

"Honey, I'm home," she singsongs, entering the apartment and putting the bags on the table.

The word sends an unpleasant twist through my stomach. At the same time, a chill crawls up my spine.

I've heard that before.

Somewhere. Recently.

I can't remember where.

"Where's the boot?" Shit, she didn't let that go.

"Somewhere"

"That's not a location. Why aren't you wearing it then?" She gets closer to me, trying to corner me to sit.

"Because I don't want to," I petulantly stand my ground, crossing my arms. Kate stops in front of me, mirroring my stance.

"Strong medical reasoning"

I heard Yelena whistling a stupid song she heard on TV. I see her putting away the groceries. There's a sensation in my stomach. I don't like seeing Yelena so comfortable at Kate's.

Kate sighs, lifts her arms up. Both hands are grabbing her face.

"Dude, I love you, but you fucking need to use the boot."

Yelena stops whatever thing she was doing. She looks at me, squinting her eyes. She looks at Kate and slowly leaves the room.

I use the distraction to try to keep walking, but I don't calculate my step and trip. Fuck that hurts. I lost my balance.

Strong hands grab me by my waist. I instinctively grab Kate's shirt. She steadies me. My breathing comes out in short intakes of air. After I feel my heartbeat calm, I loosen my grip on Kate.

She tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

She's closer than I realize.

Blue irises look into mine. For a second, they drop to my lips. I follow them.

She doesn't immediately let go.

I lean in.

Kate leans in.

"This feels like an inappropriate time to mention we're out of soda." I hear Yelena's voice on the kitchen door.

Kate jumps back ten steps.

I'm left there wondering why my heart does this beat I can't quite comprehend.

[royalfurtherevenmore]

OneAffini%

Chapter 13: "We'll just keep all our anxieties inside and never address them... Oh no, Miss Monad, look out! Miss! Behind you! Tabby with the steel chair!"

is live now on ao3! ^^

https://archiveofourown.org/works/79034111/chapters/239207831

memes use art from Liria and Manaphantasy :3

more memes under the cut :3

[truth-and-compassion]