unhingedchaos | A newly converted rat has a birthday

[ But here's the thing, he has this crushing feeling like some horrible shit is about to go down. He's always right, this feeling has never failed him. But he watches him leave and sinks down against the pillow.

There's really nothing he can do? Just hope it'll be fine. Fucking dammit.

24 is already shaping up to be amazing, huh? ]

[ Gavin makes it back to the waiting room on his own just fine, although Nines trails after him. His stupid gargoyle. Necessary, for now.

He texts Mike’s assorted weirdos.

And he should leave it at that. He knows he should. But one of his most recent conversations is with someone labeled “Mike².” Probably just notes for himself, yeah? Some sort of journaling?

Notes for himself that Gavin should respect as his private business and not be a nosy motherfucker. But he sees a glimpse of the final message sent — “Why are you LIKE this” — then...

Meeting up at the waterfront. Flirting. Someone else calling Mike “baby” and “baby boy.” That hurts, stings like a motherfucker, but it’s a joke, right? It’s a joke. Just going out to meet someone while Gavin’s asleep — he could ask about it and it’d be nothing, obviously.

“Let me fuck you.”

A joke. Definitely a joke.

“And fuck Gavin for not seeing you need help.”

They were talking about him.

“If Gavin makes you feel like you’ve done everything wrong, why are you with him.”

He’s not parsing context here, exactly. Not parsing that Mike is disagreeing: he just sees that Mike is talking with someone, conversing with someone who thinks this of Gavin. Someone who calls him a thing. Someone who thinks he isn’t good enough for Mike.

Someone else who sees it.

Not a joke. Not a joke at all. So this is where Mike’s been going at night. While Gavin’s asleep and having nightmares about losing Mike, and waking up to him gone...

It’s as if something was trying to tell him this was all too good to be true. And he should have listened to his instincts — should have fucking listened.

He just stops reading. Has to. Everything hurts and, god, he was so stupid to think Mike could ever be his. Mike? Mike?

Gavin Reed is the fucking joke here. Has been the joke this whole goddamn time.

He looks up at Nines, who’s giving him that creepy dead stare as he scans him. Not rambling about elevated heartrate and stress levels and all that — Gavin’s got him partially trained to shut his fucking yap. And it’s not like he can read Gavin’s mind and know what he saw.

So maybe it strikes the toaster as odd when Gavin grabs his hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing, as he bends over in his chair. Shutting his eyes. Trying not to scream. Not to cry.

Because Gavin Reed doesn’t cry, obviously. ]

[ The terrible thing is he was planning on explaining everything to him that day. He really was going to put an end to it. But then everything went down and he fucking forgot. The whole damn thing wasn't necessarily his choice, it was complicated as hell, but that doesn't change how wrong it had been in the first place.

But the one thing that is never going to change is he does belong to Gavin. Always will. Even if he's never thought he would actually have him around forever. Was always ready for the moment of losing everything.

But at this time in particular? Yeah, there were other things he wasn't saying. And maybe he said goodbye like that because he was told the particular surgery he's getting is harsh and harder to survive. He was thinking about sparing Gavin stress. But he had no clue other shit would come to light.

He's going to make it through, though it'll be a few hours before it's over. But if he wakes up alone in the ICU after, he'll start panicking. And not really understand yet it's due to something he did himself.

A life like he's led makes you terrified of being open and honest but in the end, that only leads to misunderstandings and pain for everyone involved. ]

[ It’s not as if Gavin can leave. Where would he go? He gave up his home for Mike. Mike was — is? — his home. And none of this changes the fact that Mike is hurt, nor the fact that Gavin loves him. Has to keep an eye on his texts, too.

Really, Gavin’s just a sucker here. In too deep to fucking quit. Always figured something like this would happen, but not once he’d sunk so goddamn deep. Fallen so hard.

And Mike really convinced him this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. Honestly had him thinking this was real. Made him deny his instincts. Turned him into a right proper dipshit.

And maybe he really is a dipshit, because if he had an ounce of strength left, he’d be leaving now. Already gone. Gone before all this, but now — now.

All those instincts that have scratched their way up his spine all these months, telling him to leave? Should’ve listened. Should have fucking listened.

The thought sends him hurtling to the bathroom. On his knees over a toilet. Clutching at his stomach.

God. And what the fuck is he supposed to do with this? This thing? Just thinking the word has him clutching the toilet again.

Thing. Because that’s all he is, yeah? All he’s ever been?

The plan was to wait until Mike’s better before they talk about Gavin’s... whatever the hell this is. Whatever the hell. But he’s alone with this too, isn’t he? So he doesn’t need to wait. ]

Nines? Fucking Nines?

[ Gavin’s raising his voice, even as the android opens the bathroom door. And he’s looking up at him, this obnoxiously tall appliance, about to snap at him, when he sees...

Mike. Out in the hall. He swears. Gavin is up, pushing past Nines. Calling out for Mike and he turns back, just for a second. Neck bandaged with a line of red blossoming through. And he smiles. Gavin wants to wipe that smirk off his face; wants to shove, slap, scream. But now Mike is walking faster. Away. Why is he out of surgery? Why is he...? Scuttling right down the hall with his portable IV like a man fucking possessed.

Once Gavin turns the corner, he’s gone. Disappeared into one of the patient rooms, but which? Hell if he fucking knows. ]

[ Now here's what happened before Mike went under - he declared Gavin in charge of anything and everything. Next of kin, emergency contact? All check. But here's the kicker - he made him in charge of any possible decisions, if something terrible happened and he couldn't. It's probably something they should have discussed but it's not like he doesn't trust him explicitly. He just didn't know what would be found on his phone, or think through that kind of thing is a stressful thing to be surprised with either way.

Because, well - that's what's happening. Complications to the surgery that Mike can't make a decision on, because he's fucking under. So the medical staff are definitely hunting a simple rat down.

Because, well - there's an awful lot of bleeding. And at this point, decisions have to be made as to whether or not this is worth handling or letting go. ]

[ It’s not as if Gavin can just go knocking on every door. Peeking into every room. He doesn’t have the time or energy for that. And if Mike’s running around? He must be fucking well enough to, yeah? Not like the hospital staff would just let him run amok. Not that Gavin thinks they could keep a determined Mike down, but…

Doesn’t answer many — or any — questions, but it’s better than the alternative. Which is that Mike somehow infected him with his weird ghost sight, and Mike is actually…?

Nope. Gavin’s definitely not going to think about that. Nope, nope, nope.

What he’s trying to focus on now is his phone. Getting a call. Something about Mike, about Gavin being needed — why? Why would he be needed when Mike’s out here running around like a rat, possibly a ghost? “Decisions need to be made”?

So, yeah: he meets up with Nines, lingering not too far behind, and heads over to meet with Mike’s doctor. ]

[ Moira is not a happy person. She tends to be called in for the worst of the worst, where miracles need to be made. But she's too damn old for all this.

When Gavin shows up, she'll explain that multiple things have happened. The main issue is the bleeding and lack of any resources to use. ]

It's not anything I've seen before. His blood is a type we've only identified in around 80 people in the world.

Has he ever talked to you about this? What he might have wanted done?

[ Sure, Gavin might be the resident dipshit around here, apparently, but even he can tell that this whole blood business? Bad fucking news. ]

Of course he’s never talked about — what? Dying? No, he never told me about any weird blood shit. But he doesn’t want to die, if that’s what you’re asking.

[ Because he’d want to live for Gavin, right? But then he remembers the texts. About him not understanding how much Mike is suffering. ]

I don’t want him to die. Is that answer enough for you?

[ He sighs. Slumps his shoulders. ]

How long... how long can he survive? Till you find one of your unicorns?

For now, we can do cell salvage. It involves taking what he's bled out and giving it back. But it will only get us so far.

[ This is not news she likes giving. If only she still had government connections? But she left that life behind long ago. ]

We noticed there was family on file. Several, in fact. Are you in contact with any?

Edited 2025-09-21 00:51 (UTC)

Several? I don’t — he doesn’t know. Mike. We were in the process of getting DNA testing done. He doesn’t know he has family.

[ Happy fucking birthday, apparently? Once Mike wakes up. And he will. ]

Klaus is one. One of the people who might be family. Don’t know his last name. I have Mike’s phone, too, so — can contact whoever needs to be contacted. If they’re in there.

It's in the parental data on file. His biological father is a particularly prominent figure. Deceased, but all his children are alive.

[ It's at that moment someone comes over. They take her aside and from what they're saying, her eyebrows go up. Going back to Gavin, her eyes are puzzled. Perhaps annoyed? ]

Promise me you're not all playing some sort of game. Your last name was Reed?

Because we've found someone here at the hospital that's a possibility, but theirs is as well.

Edited 2025-09-21 01:58 (UTC)

[ Gavin would ask if this doctor is playing some game. Prominent figure? Mike must not know. ]

Fiancé’s dying, yeah? No game here. No fucking game.

[ He’s trying to hold it together. Really. Because regardless of everything else, regardless of what he saw on Mike’s phone — Mike is the most important thing here. Making sure he gets better.

And Gavin flying off the rails isn’t going to help him. That can come later. Hopefully later. ]

Reed’s not exactly an uncommon surname. But okay. Get their blood. Bada bing, bada boom.

It's not, no. But their first name is Michael. Hell of a coincidence at that point.

[ She won't say anything else. There's simply no time. She has to make sure of other things. ]

I'm assuming once we get the blood, you'll want everything done possible. But you need to do some thinking about it. How long you'll want extraordinary measures to be used, if they continue to be necessary.

Your android can probably help you puzzle it out.

Don’t need to do any thinking. You take those “extraordinary measures,” or whatever, till he’s better. Whoever this Michael guy is doesn’t need all his blood. Obviously.

[ Gavin turns to squint at Nines. It doesn’t matter what he says.

He already knows what Nines would say, anyway — let Mike go, let him die; he’s wasting resources that could help others — but he doesn’t want to fucking hear it. ]

Noted. We'll make it happen.

[ She could tell him exactly how unlikely this is to go well, but there's no point. She doesn't even hesitate, she just nods to him and leaves.

Because she has a patient to save. ]

[ Whenever Mike wakes up, Gavin will be sitting beside him. Trying to find something to occupy his mind with that doesn’t just piss him off more. Who is there to text that won’t just stress him out? What is there to do, to look at?

He watches Mike, too. Imagines talking to him. Screaming at him. Holding him. Kissing him. Telling him how sorry he is.

But mostly Gavin just thinks about this morning. Back in bed after Mike had finished his... extracurricular activities. Just holding each other. Those quiet moments of peace that Gavin will forever long for.

But like with most things, that’s all gone.

He still isn’t wearing his ring. Wanted Mike to put it back on him, but... maybe they can’t anymore. Maybe Gavin won’t be strong enough.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Nines is standing outside, at Gavin’s request. Command. He’s not sure which anymore. Gavin meant for Nines to be helpful for both him and Mike, but...

Now Gavin’s just glad he isn’t by himself. Because he feels that way: alone. ]

[ After everything that's gone down, it's near midnight when Mike wakes up. He definitely didn't expect, this morning, to wake up in the fucking ICU. He's so insistent on never getting any medical treatment that he didn't even go for his hand?

And now twice in probably as many months, he's been in this shitty hospital. The room is large but crowded with machines, a sliding door that's easily pulled open. Mike has so many foreign things in him that it's a disappointment it's not some sort of kink party. No, it's just for recovery and it fucking sucks. Multiple chest tubes, multiple IV lines. One is hooked up to a PCA that's delivering a basal rate of heavy pain medication in addition to whatever he might press the button for - but it's not like he's doing that at the moment.

There's more. Temporary pacemaker? Check. Catheter? Also check, he's going to complain to the moon and back about that. Thoracic epidural catheter, check as well. Drains? Telemetry? Let's stamp check on those as well.

But the big one is the fucking ventilator with a tube down his throat. They definitely weren't prepared for him to snap into being fully awake from unconscious, this doesn't generally happen, okay? So there were no measures taken to make such a thing easier.

So. He's definitely panicking blindly and trying to extubate the damn thing. What the fuck, what the hell?! ]

[ Gavin definitely wasn’t expecting the sudden snap of Mike waking up, either; nor the way he’s apparently trying to pull a goddamn tube out of his throat.

He’s on his feet in an instant, not knowing what to do but managing to hit the call button, at least. ]

Mike —

[ ...baby, he almost says. But stops himself. Assuming the pet name wouldn’t help, anyway; why would it? The guy’s trying to pull a goddamn tube out of his throat. ]

Mike, stop.

[ He’ll fight Mike over that goddamn tube if he has to, but for now Gavin tries touching his shoulder. ]

Kind of need that to breathe, or whatever. Stop that. Stop that.

[ The shoulder touch helps. The pet name would help even more, actually, but he's feeling like he needs to continue trying to get this damned thing out. He stops for the moment at least, takes a look at everything around him, then renews his efforts with more determination.

He needs OUT, thank you very much, and that requires removing this fucking thing. There's no way he's staying here! ]

Mike. I swear to fucking god. Almost lost you already. I am not letting you die because you yank a fucking tube out of your goddamn throat like a dipshit.

[ Gavin doesn’t want to fuck anything up, but he relents and tries to grab Mike’s wrist. Aiming to keep him still. ]

If you are in any way coherent, and if you love me or have ever loved me, you will stop thrashing around like a worm.

[ One of his wrists is where one of IV lines is, it's for monitoring. And, unfortunately, this is the one that's grabbed. He winces deeply and drops his hands from the tube.

He doesn't usually care about pain, even relishes it. But at the moment, everything is pain and he can't bear much more of it. Even though he has two different sources of pain relief being delivered here, it's still too much in total. This doesn't help, though he obviously doesn't think it was done on purpose at all.

He tries to manage to say something but it's impossible.

Not happening. ]

[ Gavin’s still the resident dipshit here, but he can see the pain on his face. He loosens his grip on Mike’s hand, holding further down his arm to try and guide it back onto the bed. Gently, for all the good that might do. ]

Jesus fuck. I didn’t — I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. Then I went and did it for you, huh?

[ He shrugs weakly. Not as tired as Mike, undoubtedly, but still exhausted.

So touching Mike? Bad idea all around right now, probably. But at least he’s not trying to pull out his goddamn tube. ]

I know you wanna talk, wanna get all yappy on me, but you gotta hang in there for a while, okay? I don’t want to see you hurting more. Hate fucking seeing you hurting.

[ Hurt that Gavin himself has caused, too. Maybe especially.

More of that to come, he’s sure. And now he has to look away to clear his nose and wipe at his eyes.

Not crying. Obviously. ]

[ He's panicking more at the sight of those tears. It's sending him back to another event, one where he also made Gavin cry by fucking himself up. And he's supposed to feel worthy of marrying this guy?

He needs to tell him about everything he's done that was wrong. Needs to, before it comes out in some other way. But he can't like this, so he raises his hand again to reach out, then -

The nurse comes in. He motions desperately at the tube and to his luck? She's willing to look at pulling it out. It just requires evaluating a few things.

He keeps his eyes focused on Gavin. Doesn't see anything else. ]

Edited 2025-09-21 06:47 (UTC)

[ Gavin takes his chair and scoots back. Trying to give the nurse room to do… whatever it is she needs to do.

Should he look at Mike? Look away? What does Mike need? Gavin doesn’t fucking know, but the way Mike is watching him…

Gavin watches right back. Not sure if he can smile or offer anything small like that, but he’s at least looking.

One glance toward the door, though. Just one. The door — behind which Nines still stands. Gavin knows that without a doubt.

An escape, of sorts. If he needs. ]

[ The process goes on and Mike puts jp like with all of it because he has to. Just the multiple tests to assess if he'll be able to breath on his own before they're satisfied.

And in the end, the tube pulled out and he fucking hates it, thanks. Why can't it just be teleported out? Is it too much to ask that the hospital be as supernaturally gifted as he is? Whatever. He accepts the aerosol mask and coughs hard before letting them put it on.

A few instructions are given for what to call for help about, like noisy breathing, then the nurse leaves them alone. He considers immediately tossing the mask but when he shifts to the left, he feels short of breath, so he decides to keep it. For Now. ]

I need to tell you something. Okay? Can I do that?

[ His voice is hoarse and strained but he doesn't care. He's going to talk, dammit. ]

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cn: discovery of cheating 💔

I had to detour to do massive research

(cn: emeto mentions) we love research in this house 👏👏👏

I personally victimized myself with the last sentence WHOOPS

OMG ;-; a simple rat tho sdggsdg

Me deciding yolo let's fucking write her

YOLO!!!!

Guess the test results weren't needed ~

👀👀👀👀👀 the rats are intrigued

I think it's particularly funny if he's been clueless but it's been public record

we love hacker Mike missing this crucial info

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CW medical trauma details, panic over such

fhjdjf KINK PARTY

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Tests kept becoming either teats, tears, years or Tesla what a combo what is HAPPENING