I’ve been feeling a little down/unwell this week & I have two hospital appointments next week (and my second vaccine) so I’ve been a little stressed which means I haven’t been posting. I did comfort watch the hobbit tonight and now I really want to try and build all the hobbit holes!
Lol remember the note at the end of Chapter 3? I think? Of ALiP where I was like “mom is having brain surgery next chapter will take a few days” or something like that?
Lol remember the note at the end of Chapter 3? I think? Of ALiP where I was like “mom is having brain surgery next chapter will take a few days” or something like that?
I’m so freaking excited for June! The surgery that had to be postponed last year is finally happening and I am starting to freak out. Happily though. I cannot wait to be flat chested I’m so so ready for it. Begone fat lumps!
Just scared of throwing up afterwards though, or even before; if I manage to work myself up enough.
I think a lot of people forget how hanahaki disease would work. Like, it’s a disease you get because of unrequited love right? So like, why do people always write stories with it where it’s not unrequited, the other person just has yet to admit their feelings.
Like, unrequited love means the other person doesn’t love you like that.
I want to see fucking long slow burns involving this where the character suffering from it has to try and get the other character to fall in love with them.
Also, why does it have like such a short window to kill you? Like, if to get rid of it the other person has to love you, why would it take so little time to just make you do the not alive?
I do want to say though; the idea of getting the flowers removed medically through surgery but the backlash is not being able to ever have romantic feelings for that one person ever again is fucking, *mwah* chefs kiss!
So…the guy (not my bf, but one of the…relationships I’ve had in the history of my tumblr. Back before I got really creative with nicknames) 16 years ago (when he was early 30s–literally the age I am now) had heart surgery (long story, it wasn’t to fix a congenital issue but the result of a freak accident.) He’s been doing well since then, but just got word that he needs to go in for another surgery to repair things. On Monday. Which is my birthday. We’ve remained good friends since our involvement, so this is messing me up something fierce. Especially bc we already lost another good mutual friend in our group back in August who was the same age as him. I’ve been coping by looking up information on survival rates of the surgery (96-97%) and ignoring the long-term survival rates bc that’s a concern for future Strange. So all in all I think he’ll be fine. Especially bc I will go fight the universe itself if it lets him die on my birthday. But still, it’s awful and there’s literally nothing I can do except sit and wait and hope that he makes it. And it’s especially hard bc none of our mutual friends know we were ever involved (they wouldn’t have taken too kindly to the 16 year age gap, and while I’d tell any 24 year old now to NOT do that with whatever rando 40-something is hitting on them, I’m content with my life choices in that regard) so that’s a burden I have to bear alone–when it comes to shared grief, at least.
Soooo if anyone has any extra good energies to spare on Monday, send them his way. He’s a healthy guy all things considered, and has a fancy job with fancy healthcare so I know he’s in good hands medically. It’s just fucking terrifying.
Two of my favorite shows are getting new seasons the day I’m getting surgery so I will be in the hospital when they’re released and then too high to properly enjoy them when I come home
Me anytime I get surgery: I’m scared I’m going to say something embarrassing or reveal a secret when I’m on anesthesia…
Me every single time I’m on anesthesia: AAA I’M GETTING ABDUCTED BY ALIENS *falls asleep*
(This is queued to be posted while I’m in surgery)
I was expecting to be all silly this time but I wasn’t, still druggy but not silly, so I came out of anesthesia and once everyone left I was like mom my vagina hurts and got scared I’d somehow started my period even though I don’t menstruate.
Using this as my top recovery thread. Everything went well but a lot of anesthesia ended up in my right hand so it’s very dumb and also the thing that made my urethra hurt (not my vagina, apparently) is making me not be able to pee so just chugging water. Food at hospital is really good tho
Turns out anesthesia can interfere with your ability to urinate. Even sort of describing that would be very graphic so not going to.
Had a temp nurse who didn’t really know what I was there for and asked if I could use the urinal *fist pumps in victory*
Came home yesterday, able to type on short bursts when painkillers are in effect but not a ton of activity
Me anytime I get surgery: I’m scared I’m going to say something embarrassing or reveal a secret when I’m on anesthesia…
Me every single time I’m on anesthesia: AAA I’M GETTING ABDUCTED BY ALIENS *falls asleep*
(This is queued to be posted while I’m in surgery)
I was expecting to be all silly this time but I wasn’t, still druggy but not silly, so I came out of anesthesia and once everyone left I was like mom my vagina hurts and got scared I’d somehow started my period even though I don’t menstruate.
Using this as my top recovery thread. Everything went well but a lot of anesthesia ended up in my right hand so it’s very dumb and also the thing that made my urethra hurt (not my vagina, apparently) is making me not be able to pee so just chugging water. Food at hospital is really good tho
Me anytime I get surgery: I’m scared I’m going to say something embarrassing or reveal a secret when I’m on anesthesia…
Me every single time I’m on anesthesia: AAA I’M GETTING ABDUCTED BY ALIENS *falls asleep*
(This is queued to be posted while I’m in surgery)
I was expecting to be all silly this time but I wasn’t, still druggy but not silly, so I came out of anesthesia and once everyone left I was like mom my vagina hurts and got scared I’d somehow started my period even though I don’t menstruate.
Stephan Leyhe/Andreas Wellinger - “Like A Fairytale” (fanfic)
okay, this is happening. this is a thing that i wrote that is 9k words long and i am kind of freaking out. i have never written anything in these dimensions before and i’m more nervous than i should be over a fanfic. this is the complete version, even though i already put part one in a different post. but i thought hey, now that it’s done, might as well post the whole thing. this took ages and i probably could’ve drawn this out to be even longer, but i really wanted it online by the end of the season, so here we are! once again, content warnings are in the tags and also once again, i advise you to not spoiler yourself with them. i would never put anything too graphic in my fics! it would mean the world to me if you told me whether you enjoyed this (or if you thought it sucked, idc). have fun and i am possibly sorry in advance. enjoy!
„Alright boys, hit it. Four in this car, three in the other. Play rock paper scissors or whatever, I genuinely do not care. Meet you back at the hotel.”
With that, Horngacher hands Severin the car keys, then turns around and marches towards the building that hosts the big-boss conference. Which isn’t actually a thing. It’s just what Andi has been calling the meeting of the coaches and the officials and god knows who else is attending in his head because he has absolutely no clue what they will be discussing. Not that he particularly cares.
“I’m calling shotgun!” Constantin immediately sprints towards the passenger side of the closest car, cheering as he opens the door, already pulling up Spotify on his phone and connecting it to the AUX cable. He did two amazing jumps earlier and apparently the adrenaline still hasn’t left his system, which means: A lot of bad 2010 pop songs during the car ride and a singing Consti in the passenger seat.
Andi’s always up for that party.
“I’m driving the baby,” he announces, snatching the car keys from Severin. “Not a baby!” Constantin yells distractedly through the open passenger door, scrolling through his playlist. “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Karl says, grabbing the keys to the other car out of Severin’s hand and making his way to the driver’s side.
While the others discuss the rest of the car ride arrangement, Andi takes a step closer to Stephan, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since the competition, even for him. They’re used to Stephan being the perfect picture of quiet contentment after a solid performance, but it’s usually accompanied by a soft smile and a quick laugh at his teammate’s jokes.
Today, there are lines on Stephan’s forehead and Andi doesn’t like it.
“You alright?” he asks quietly, standing directly in front of his best friend. Stephan looks up at him and nods. “Just a headache,” he says, managing a tired smile. “I’m gonna skip the carpool karaoke, though. Seems kind of counterproductive.” Andi nods in agreement, maintaining eye contact. “I can drive with you, if you want?”
Stephan’s smile turns a bit more genuine. He pats Andi’s side in a grateful gesture. “Sweet of you to offer,” he says, “but you did great today and I know how much you actually enjoy singing along to One Direction in the car with Consti. Go on. Drive safely.” “We listened to One Direction once-“ Andi starts to protest, but stops mid-sentence when Stephan’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “Whatever you say, sunshine. See you back at the hotel? We could-“ Stephan stops himself, carefully schooling his face into a more neutral expression. “We could grab something to eat and- and read? For a bit? If you didn’t have any other plans, that is.”
Instead of an answer, Andi’s hands go up to fix the neckline of Stephan’s jacket. He’s impressed Stephan has worked up the courage to ask – not to read his book, not exactly, because that seems to have become a codeword for the weird little routine they have fallen into sometime in the middle of the season. It went a little bit like this: Stephan (loving to read) couldn’t find a comfortable reading position on the, admittedly terrible, hotel beds in Innsbruck. Andi (loving physical contact) opened his arms and let Stephan use him as a pillow and also as a book stand.
It works. They’ve spent most of their evenings like this since then; Andi dozing off or watching a show on his tablet with earphones in, Stephan snuggled into his side, reading quietly, even though he never asks for it. Andi’s aware the older doesn’t like to ask for things, which is why they don’t talk about it. Andi wordlessly opens his arms, Stephan carefully places himself at Andi’s side with a content sigh and that’s the end of it.
Which is exactly the reason why Andi’s getting wary about Stephan’s “just a headache.” If Stephan’s desperate enough to ask for a quiet evening with him, then that’s telling him a lot about his teammate’s state of exhaustion. So what’s he gonna do? Say no?
“Of course we can,” he says softly, “whatever you want. Meet you at the hotel.” Andi leans down, presses a quick kiss to Stephan’s check and looks back at the others, who seem to have come to a decision. Markus skips over to them, slings an arm around Andi’s shoulders and starts pulling him in direction of the car. “Let’s go, Welle. Get ready to fight Consti over the music choice.” Markus climbs into the backseat while Constantin channels his inner Celine Dion with “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now.” Pius and Severin collect Stephan and make their way to Karl, who is already waiting in the car, ready to go. Stephan looks back over his shoulder at Andi, who winks.
“We’ll be at the hotel first!” he calls after them. Stephan laughs and Severin turns around. “Of course you will,” he deadpans. “Karl is driving. He’s slower than Pius in the inrun.” “Now hold on a second-“ Pius protests and shoves Severin against the car. The oldest laughs and opens the door, climbing into the backseat. The rest of their conversation is drowned out by Constantin’s and Markus’ singing as Andi occupies the driver’s side, adjusting the seat to his long legs.
“There were nights of endless pleasure-“ Constantin yells dramatically.
“-it was more than all your laws allow!” Markus continues, grabbing Consti’s shoulders from the seat behind him. Andi laughs and starts the car, joining in with the chorus.
“Baby, baby, baby when you touch me like this-“
X
It’s a lot quieter in the other car. Karl is softly humming along to whatever song’s on the radio. Severin and Pius are still busy discussing the mystery of Pius’ non-existent inrun speed in the backseat. Stephan rests his head against the window and sighs, eyes closed.
Karl looks at him briefly. “You okay, Stephan?” he asks, turning his attention back to the road, even though the streets are pretty deserted. Karl has always been the most careful driver out of all of them, and with the snow and ice on the road he’s driving extra slowly. Stephan doesn’t mind.
“I’m good,” he answers and opens his eyes to look at the snow-covered fields around them, the trees beyond also decked with white. Their hotel is a good thirty-minute drive from the hill, but the scenery has something magical about it, like something out of a fairy tale. “It’s just a headache,” he repeats what he told Andi earlier. Karl raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve got some aspirin, if you want,” Pius pipes up from behind Stephan, sneaking a hand through the gap between headrest and window to squeeze Stephan’s shoulder. “I think I’ll manage for now,” Stephan declines and reaches up to pat Pius’ hand. “Thank you, though. Maybe I’ll come back to you later.”
He doesn’t add that a quiet afternoon with Andi and his book is probably going to be more helpful than all the aspirin in the world. He’s been particularly stressed before today’s competition, although he can’t quite put his finger on why that is. He woke up in the morning with an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes, despite getting a full eight hours of sleep. His jumps were good, or so he’s been told, but the usual feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment just wouldn’t set in. Instead, the headache has been getting worse and Stephan just really, really wants his bed, his book, and Andi’s arms.
He’s not going to get what he wants.
X
“-and when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell, you don’t know, oh-oh! You don’t know you’re beautiful, oh-oh!”
“That’s what makes you beautiful!” Constantin finishes, air-drumming the final beats of the song. Markus shakes his head in the backseat. “I can’t believe I let you play One Direction in this car,” he sighs. Constantin turns in his seat to beam at the older. “That’s because you love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Andi snorts. “I don’t care how much you two love each other; we do not tell Stephan that we sang One Direction in the car.”
“Oh, I will tell Stephan you guys sang One Direction in the car. I was just a victim. Dammit, I should’ve recorded this,” Markus says, putting his face in his hands. “As evidence.”
“With what?” Consti laughs. “You never take your phone anywhere! Remember when you got into an argument with- who was it? One of the Austrians? You got in the car with them and drove to their hotel because you were so busy with talking!”
Markus opens his mouth, then shuts it. “That,” he explains carefully, “was one time. I’ll have you know it was a very intense battle of me and Krafti against Michi Hayböck, the freaking Barca fan. Imagine thinking ter Stegen is a better keeper than Neuer. Utterly delusional.”
Andi looks at him in the rearview mirror. “No one was able to reach you for three hours,” he deadpans. “Karl was literally about to call the police because you didn’t answer your damn phone. We thought you were kidnapped or something.”
“They’d bring him back voluntarily,” Constantin mumbles while he scrolls through his playlist. “Fifteen minutes, max.”
Andi laughs as Markus leans forward between the two front seats and smacks the youngest with his beanie. “Listen, you little shit,” he starts, “it would be a delight to kidnap me. You would be the one they’d want to get rid of because of your questionable taste in mus- Andi watch out!”
It’s too late.
Wrong lane, Andi thinks, staring right into the headlights of an approaching truck. That vehicle is not supposed to be there.
Yanking the steering wheel to the right is a reflex, not a conscious decision.
The snow is pretty, Andi thinks as they go flying off the road. The trees are covered with it. Kind of like a fairy tale.
The sound of their car crashing against a tree is the last thing he hears for a while.
X
Someone’s knocking on the door to their hotel room. Stephan’s halfway through undressing in order to take a shower, so he quickly grabs a shirt off the bed and pulls it over his head. Probably Andi, he thinks. Forgot his keys again. Wouldn’t be the first time.
When they’d arrived at the hotel earlier, they’d wondered how the hell they’d made it there before the others. Karl had taken it as an opportunity to defend his driving skills. Severin had figured the others got so distracted by the carpool karaoke that Andi took a wrong turn somewhere. Wouldn’t be the first time, either.
When Stephan opens the door, however, he’s met with a mildly distressed looking Karl. Stephan raises an eyebrow. “Are you-“
“Have you heard from the others?” Karl interrupts him, grip tight around his phone.
“Uh, no? Should I have?”
Karl bites his lower lip. “I’m getting worried,” he admits. “We’ve been here for a good forty minutes already, and you’re telling me Welle took that many wrong turns?”
That is, admittedly, somewhat unusual. Neither Andi, nor Consti or Markus have the best sense of direction, but so far Andi has always texted or called or somehow let anyone know he got lost. Markus is another story entirely but knowing him, his phone is probably placed uselessly on his nightstand. Stephan’s headache intensifies.
“They’ll be fine!” Severin yells from down the hall.
Karl frowns in the general direction of Severin’s voice, then turns back to Stephan. “I just have a feeling. Eisei’s phone is in our room. Will you please call Andi? He always answers when you call.”
That’s true. Andi does always answer when it’s Stephan who’s calling. Stephan is convinced it’s because Andi knows he’d never call him without a good reason. The others think a bit differently, but they don’t tell him that.
Stephan leaves Karl standing in the hallway and goes to retrieve his phone from his bed. “Have you tried calling Andi or Consti?” he calls back to Karl, who nods. Severin appears next to Karl, Pius right behind him. Stephan pulls up Andi’s contact and presses call. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, something he can’t quite place. Even his headache dulls in comparison.
It’s fine, he tells himself. Karl is being paranoid.There’s no reason to assume anything bad has happened. They’re just a little later than usual. So what? Knowing those three, they probably stopped somewhere to have a snowball fight.
The pressure on his chest grows stronger with every dial tone. Pius is holding his phone to his ear as well. “Consti,” he mouths, then shakes his head when no one answers the call.
“This is the voicemail of Andi Wellinger. Please leave a me-“
Stephan hangs up.
X
When Andi wakes up, his first thought is that he’s cold, incredibly so. His teeth are chattering and he’s shaking all over - possibly because there is snow inside the car, falling in through the massive hole in the windshield.
Wait, what?
Itcomes back in pieces. The bright headlights of the truck on the wrong side of the road, the momentum of the car flying into the snowy ditch by the side of the street pressing him back into his seat, the whiplash of the impact throwing him forward against the dashboard.
Andi can feel the ache in his neck. He doesn’t dare move for a few seconds and has to force himself to keep his breathing under control. Panicking won’t help. He carefully wiggles his fingers and toes, relieved when he can feel them move despite the cold. His shaky exhale comes out in a cloud and fogs up the driver’s side window.
“Andi?”
Slowly, Andi turns his head to the right. His neck protests at the movement, but the pain quickly fades into the background when he catches sight of Constantin. There are tear tracks on the younger’s face, eyes red and wide. He looks terrified.
Andi clears his throat, eyes roaming over the other’s body to check for visible injuries. “You hurt?” he asks, voice rough. Consti closes his eyes, pressing his lips together as fresh tears start coming.
“You were unconscious and you didn’t wake up and I tried, I tried to get you to talk to me but you didn’t and-“
“Constantin. Are. You. Hurt.”
Consti shakes his head. “My shoulder hurts and I can’t move my right arm too much. Despite that I’m- I’m okay. But Markus-“
Andi doesn’t let him finish that sentence, fumbles to remove his seatbelt and gingerly turns around in his seat. His breathing catches when he sees the older in the backseat, slumped against the window, the right side of his face covered in blood.
No. No no no no no.
“Fuck,” he curses, trying to reach his teammate to feel for a pulse. Panic makes the movement frantic and pain shoots through his ribs, a sharp, electric stab like a knife in his lungs. His vision darkens for a second and slowly, he leans back against his seat, attempting to breathe through it. “Markus,” he tries as soon as the pain subsides, voice breaking. “Hey, Eisei. Come on. Wake up.”
“I tried that,” Constantin says quietly. “It’s not working. Something’s wrong.” The younger’s left hand is gripping his right arm tightly, trying to minimize the movement of his shoulder. Andi reaches out and rests his hand on Consti’s thigh, squeezing lightly. “How long do you think were we out?”
Constantin attempts a shaky smile. “About thirty minutes, maybe? I wasn’t, though. Out.”
Andi blanks for a second. His grip on Consti’s thigh tightens. “You were- You were conscious this whole time?”
Consti nods, lips pressed together. He carefully removes his left hand from his right elbow to take Andi’s hand in his, holding on tightly. “I was… kind of dazed, I think? For a couple of minutes. And then- neither of you were waking up, you know? No matter how hard I tried, you didn’t react and I- I thought-“ He stops himself. “I didn’t hit my head too badly because you- you threw your arm across my chest right when we flew off the road. It kept me from crashing against the dashboard.”
Andi’s eyes widen. “I did?” He doesn’t remember. He vaguely recalls tightening his grip on the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to hold the car stable, but he doesn’t remember giving up control over the car in favour of protecting his younger teammate.
“You did,” Consti replies softly. “Thank you. For that. But we need to-“ He inhales shakily, trying to keep his composure. “We need to help Markus.”
Andi looks back at Markus and tries not to flinch at the sight of all the blood. The older’s face is pale, lips turning blue. We need to get him out, Andi realizes. Now. And Consti and me too, or we’ll freeze.
Or something worse will happen to Markus, a little voice in his head tells him. If it hasn’t already.
Andi ignores it.
“Phone,” he says urgently. “Consti, where’s your phone?”
Constantin lifts his shoulders in a helpless gesture and hisses when he remembers his right one. “It’s not in here. Must’ve gotten catapulted out of the car on impact. I can’t get out on my side, there’s too much snow. The door won’t open and…,” his voice gets quieter towards the end. “Barely anyone has driven by since this happened. Three cars total, maybe, and we’re too far from the road for them to notice.”
“Fuck, okay. Mine’s in my- in my front pocket, let me just-“ Andi pauses when he catches sight of something next to the gas pedal. No, he thinks, no, no, please. He quickly leans down to grab his phone, ribs screaming at the sudden movement. Constantin looks at him with wide eyes. “Shit Andi, are you okay?”
“Ribs,” Andi pants, “and neck. I’m okay, but this is…”
He holds up his phone, screen cracked and essentially snapped in half. “New plan,” he says, catching Consti’s eye. “We need to get out of here and make sure Markus is-“
Not dead.
He swallows around the lump in his throat before he continues. “Make sure Markus is okay. And then we look for your damn phone. Think you can do that?”
Constantin nods, pale but determined.
“Let’s go.”
X
Karl has been pacing the length of the room for the past fifteen minutes and it’s driving Stephan nuts.
It’s not like he doesn’t get it, because he does. There’s a nervous humming in his whole body, a restlessness that tells him to get up, throw something, punch the wall, anything.
Instead, he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed this whole time, back straight, staring out the window at nothing in particular. The snowfall has picked up a while ago, which doesn’t reassure Stephan in the slightest. It’s been close to two hours since they arrived at the hotel, still no trace of the others. Pius has been checking the local news for reports of any accidents every two minutes, but nothing turned up.
Which is good, Stephan supposes, but it’s not exactly helpful either. They’re still missing. Andi is still missing.
The thought brings the humming inside him to a maximum until his hands start shaking and he feels like throwing up. There’s an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into someone’s side – Severin, who doesn’t look as unconcerned anymore as he did earlier. Karl is still pacing.
“Will you stop that?” Stephan snaps and immediately feels bad when Karl freezes on the spot. “Sorry,” he apologizes and drops his head in his hands. The headache has been getting worse. A thrumming had started behind his eyes as he’d called Andi again and again and again until Severin had carefully taken Stephan’s phone from his hands and refused to give it back. “I’m on phone duty,” the oldest had said. “Take a break, Stephan. I’ll answer when he calls.”
When he calls. Not if.When. Stephan clings to that little word.
“Pius,” he says quietly without looking up, “I’d take that aspirin now, if the offer still stands.” Not that he thinks it’ll help. The only one he knows could help him for sure is god knows where. Not here. Not where he should be. Pius nods and attempts a small smile at Stephan, but it falls flat, so he leaves to get the aspirin from his room.
“We should call the police,” Karl suggests, not for the first time this afternoon, sliding down the wall and hugging his knees to his chest. Severin sighs, still holding Stephan close to his side, and rubs his arm up and down in an attempt at comfort. Stephan tries to feel comforted. He fails.
“The police won’t do anything,” Severin answers, also not for the first time today. Even if his replies are patient, his voice has been getting more tense every time Karl brings up involving the police. “They’re grown adults and we don’t have anything that would lead the police to believe something has happened besides your bad feeling, Karl, and our word that this is highly unusual for the guys. They won’t help.”
“We should’ve driven back when it was still light out,” Pius says softly as he returns to the room and hands Stephan the aspirin. He goes back to leaning against the window, where the sun is barely visible on the horizon.
“Too late for that now,” Stephan mumbles, and he hates every word. Why didn’t they drive back to look for them? Why did they spent the last hour sitting around uselessly, worrying more and more with every passing minute?
Because stuff like this doesn’t happen, Stephan tells himself. Not in real life anyways. This would be a tragic plot point in a novel. An unforeseen twist in a romcom, at the end of which the two protagonists happily reunite under tears in the hospital, both safe and sound. It’s not something that happened to people he knows. People he cares about. Someone he loves.
But the blissful bubble of denial burst a long time ago, and Stephan is slowly starting to expect the worst. And judging from Karl’s curled up position against the wall, Pius’ frown reflected in the window and Severin’s tightening grip on his arm, so are they.
X
“I’m going to crawl in behind the driver’s seat and get him out from this side, alright? I’ll need your help with his legs, though. I can try and protect his head, but I can’t carry him alone like this.”
Constantin nods, then frowns, still holding his right arm. “Are you sure you can get him out with your ribs and all that? I don’t want you to get hurt any more. Maybe I should do it.”
“Better my ribs than your arm,” Andi mumbles, too quietly for Constantin to hear, then takes a deep breath and begins to climb into the backseat. If he’s being honest, he isn’t exactly sure about the extent of his injuries. His neck seems to be doing okay as long as he moves his head slowly, but his ribs are a completely different story. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, and Andi can only hope none of them are broken. He also must’ve tried to slam the brakes at some point during the crash, because in the attempt of getting out of the car himself, his right foot had given out more often than he’d like to admit.
He doesn’t tell Constantin that. The younger seems to have avoided any major injuries, but his shoulder had given him more than enough trouble when he’d climbed out of the driver’s side of the car. And with his right arm essentially useless, Andi sure as hell isn’t going to make him pull Markus out of the wreck. His ribs would have to manage.
Their oldest had certainly taken the worst of it. The blood has dried to an almost blackish colour, which contrasts eerily with the pale white of Markus’ face. As Andi carefully unbuckles Markus’ seatbelt, he sends a quiet thanks to whatever higher power is listening that the window Markus is slumped against didn’t break on impact. He’s not too keen on pulling glass shards out of Markus’ eye. Andi slowly maneuvers the smaller man onto his lap and winces when his ribs protest. “Consti,” he pants, “take his legs. And then move backwards – slowly – until I can put down his head once he’s outside.”
Constantin makes a vaguely confirming noise and gathers Markus’ legs against his left side, trapping them between his body and his left arm. Andi puts one hand around Markus’ shoulders, the other under his head and tries to hold him steady. There’s blood coating his left hand and even though he’s never had a problem with seeing blood - He was a clumsy, lanky kid. There were a lot of skinned knees and various wounds in his childhood – this is a vastly different situation. This isn’t a paper cut. This is a possibly fatal wound to the head. One of his best friends’ heads. And the blood is on his hands, literally and- figuratively too, Andi realizes as he looks down at Markus’ pale face. He drove the car. It was him behind the steering wheel. It was him who landed them in a ditch against a tree. Maybe, if he’d paid more attention, he would’ve seen the truck earlier and he could’ve… he doesn’t know. Done something that didn’t end with Markus bloody and concussed and unconscious.
The world tilts before his eyes.
“Welli?” Constantin’s voice reaches him through the fog in his head. “Not to rush you or anything, but Eisei’s legs are getting kind of heavy.”
Andi blinks away the tears and shoves down the panic that threatens to climb up his throat. “I got him,” he replies and slowly, so very slowly they pull Markus out of the car. He’s their smallest teammate, but the unconsciousness makes him heavy, like dead weight between them.
This must be what carrying a body feels like, Andi realizes and immediately regrets the thought because now, the image is stuck in his head.
Together, they carefully lower Markus to the ground. Andi’s ribs burn at the exertion and a sharp twinge shoots up his leg when he tries to step on his right foot, but he somehow manages to sink down to the ground on his left leg and prop himself up against the car, Markus’ head bedded on his lap. Thank his therapists for the hundreds of single-leg-squats they made him do in rehab.
The second their oldest is safely on the ground Constantin is on his knees beside him, pressing two fingers to Markus’ neck. Andi forgets how to breathe.
“There’s a pulse,” Constantin exhales shakily, “but I can barely feel it. He’s cold, he’s- isn’t there a blanket in the car?” He pushes himself to his feet and hastily goes to open the trunk, but Andi still catches sight of the tears in the younger’s eyes.
He checks for a pulse, too, because he needs the reassurance that Markus is alive and when he watches closely, he can see the older’s chest moving up and down with slow breaths.
The relief is bittersweet and doesn’t last long. The panic he’s tried so hard to shove down washes over him like a wave and suddenly, all he can feel is Markus’ head on his lap and the blood on his hands.
Andi is completely out of his depths. His knowledge of head injuries is very much limited to the time Karl walked square into a glass door, which resulted in a mild headache and a purple bruise on his forehead. Andi’s only task then was to get the older an ice pack and some ibuprofen.
He’s confident neither of those things will help Markus now.
Constantin returns with a blanket and starts wrapping it around the unconscious man on the ground, tucking it around his body and prodding at him to make sure he’s all covered. The younger’s eyes keep flickering up to Markus’ face, monitoring him closely. “How bad do you think it is? That he’s not waking up?”
It takes Andi a moment to snap out of it and realise Constantin is talking to him. The younger is looking at him expectantly, all-wide eyed and anxious and Andi desperately wishes for one of their older teammates to be here. Preferably conscious. “He’s breathing,” he says in lieu of an actual answer. “That’s better than- than if he were not breathing. It can’t be that bad if he’s still breathing.” It sounds stupid even to his own ears and Constantin shoots him a deadpan look from where he’s sitting next to them, holding onto Markus’ hand under the blanket. “Delightful analysis, Sherlock. But you’re not wrong, I guess. Can we just leave him here while we search for my phone, though? What if he, like, stops breathing and we’re not here to notice?”
Andi’s stomach turns at the thought of getting up again. The pain in his chest has faded into a dull ache a while ago, which makes it much easier to get distracted by his throbbing ankle. He attempts a smile at Consti and hopes the younger doesn’t notice how shaky it is. “Eisei would quite literally kill us if we stayed down here in the snow just to monitor his breathing. Finding that phone is our only shot at getting help. Greater chance at finding it when it’s both of us looking for it.”
“True,” Constantin answers, then stands up and looks down at Markus. “But I still don’t like it.”
Together, they carefully lift Markus’ head from Andi’s lap and bed it on his backpack. Consti adjusts the blanket, then holds out his left hand to help Andi up from the ground and frowns at the pained noise he makes as he pulls himself onto his feet. “You sure you’re doing okay?”
Andi grits his teeth and squeezes Consti’s hand once before letting go, purposefully standing up straighter than his ribs can handle. “Peachy. Let’s find that phone.”
Don’t do this, a voice in his head says as Constantin starts going around the car to look for his phone. The voice is gentle and sounds suspiciously like Stephan. Don’t pretend you’re fine when you’re not. Tell Constantin. Take care of Markus.
Don’t tell me what to do. Like you’re any better with your headache. You didn’t tell anyone either.
That’s different. You should sit down. Walking isn’t going very well.
The Stephan in his head is right. The world starts swimming the moment Andi puts weight on his right foot and he doesn’t even make it two steps. The time he’s spent sitting on the ground hasn’t done anything for him – quite the contrary, actually. His legs are shaking beneath him, barely supporting his weight. Andi becomes acutely aware of the cold. His vision goes blurry for a second and he has to grab the car to hold him up. Constantin seems to be miles away.
Sit the fuck down, Andreas.
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Andi yells. “Shut UP! I have to find this fucking phone so Markus doesn’t fucking die!”
He vaguely registers Consti’s confused call from the other side of the car and his ankle is throbbing in hot pain while the rest of him is freezing and he’s losing his damn mind-
“Forgot mine on my nightstand, sorry,” someone mumbles and it takes Andi a solid ten seconds to realise it’s Markus, speech slightly slurred and Bavarian dialect thick. “I’d also haunt the shit out of you if I died. After Karl, though. God how fucking funny would it be to haunt him, can you imagine? The man wouldn’t- wouldn‘t sleep another night for the rest of his life-“
Andi collapses onto his knees and feels the impact vibrate painfully in every single one of his injured ribs, but he can’t bring himself to care. He crawls the short distance to Markus, who looks at him with half-lidded eyes, face still white as a sheet. “Don’t move,” Andi chokes out when Markus tries to sit up. “Don’t move. How’s your head?”
Markus’ eyes flutter shut a few times before he manages to keep them open longer than a few seconds. “Terrible,” he whispers, and Andi has to strain to hear him. “Hurts worse than when Sevi sings in the shower.” The older frowns when he notices the tears on Andi’s cheek. He slowly raises a hand to Andi’s face and clumsily attempts to wipe them away, but his movements are jerky and uncoordinated. He misses Andi’s cheek a few times, then seems to decide his arm is too heavy for him to hold up. His eyes close again. “Stay awake,” Andi begs and takes the other’s hand in his own. “Eisei, hey. Tell me more about how you’d haunt Karl.”
Then Constantin stumbles around the car and almost face-plants into the snow. “Are you okay? I heard you yelling, who were you talk- oh my god, is he awake?!” He falls onto his knees on Markus’ other side, who manages to open his eyes long enough to look at the youngest. Consti sobs in relief. “I’d make so many scary noises,” Markus slurs. Constantin looks at Andi in confusion. “Karl hates scary noises. He startles so easily. Like howling at night and rustling his curtains. Do you think I can…” he trails off, eyes falling shut again. “Can what? What, Markus? Stay with us, can you do what?” There’s an edge of desperation in Andi’s voice, because a talking Markus is even better than a breathing Markus because it means consciousnessandenough brain function to form sentencesandnot dead.
“Do you think I can still- still move things when I’m a ghost? No fun if I can’t touch stuff.”
“No one here ends up as a ghost,” Consti says determinedly, aggressively wiping away his own tears with his left hand. “Not today, not tomorrow, not anywhere in the near future. And not on my watch.”
There’s the barest hint of a smile on Markus’ lips as he slowly slips back into unconsciousness. “You’re doing so well,” he whispers. “So well, both of you. Kind of annoying how well you two are. Doing. You two- love you…”
He stops talking. Andi goes very still. Constantin’s face loses all colour.
Markus doesn’t open his eyes again.
X
Stephan is wearing Andi’s shirt.
He hasn’t noticed before, hours ago when he hastily threw on the nearest piece of clothing just so he didn’t have to answer his door half-naked. Hours ago, when he still thought everything was fine.
But the shirt on his body is Andi’s, one size too big for Stephan himself, bottom hem so far down it almost looks like a dress, Andi’s merchandise logo prominent on the chest. It also smells like him.
Somehow, that makes everything worse.
Stephan hasn’t really moved in the past thirty minutes, not in the way the others have. Pius went to get them something to eat a while ago, even though Stephan would rather jump off the balcony than force food down his throat right now. Severin has been periodically trying to reach their coach, but Horngacher doesn’t answer his phone. Still in the conference, moved on to drinking with the other officials, Stephan doesn’t know and doesn’t care.
Karl looks so tense Stephan fears he’s about to snap. Karl is relaxed on most days, occasionally anxious, and scary when he’s mad.
He is terrifying when he’s worried. Which is why Stephan feels a little bit sorry for whatever poor soul that happens to be employed by the local police is on the other end of the line. Karl has been arguing with at least three different police officers in the past twenty minutes, and all Stephan has gathered so far is that yes, they will call as soon as any accidents are reported and no, they can’t send someone out looking for people that aren’t actually missing and sir, please just go to sleep and your friends will probably be back in the morning.
Karl doesn’t shout, because he never does. He calmly thanks police officer number three, who should count his blessings that he’s not in the same room as Karl, then hangs up and motions to throw the phone against the wall.
“Do not,” Stephan says quietly without looking up from the floor. “You don’t want your phone in pieces when they call.”
Pius returns with a couple sandwiches and some fruit. It remains untouched.
Stephan’s head is still swimming. The aspirin has done absolutely nothing for him.
Severin tries to get them to eat something. Karl indulges him and eats half an apple, then throws up ten minutes later in the bathroom. Stephan shakes himself out of the trance he’s been in ever since Karl knocked on their door and follows his teammate into the bathroom.
He might not be able to help the other three, but redirecting his worry at someone present, someone he can touch, is blessedly distracting. So, he rubs circles into Karl’s back as the older kneels on the cold floor, and he fills a cup with water for him to rinse his mouth with. Severin and Pius appear in the bathroom a few minutes later. “You okay, bud?” Severin asks Karl, whose pale face matches the white tiles. “Been better,” he answers, takes a deep breath and hunches in on himself to make his head fit on Stephan’s shoulder.
Stephan leans back against the sink and wraps his arms around his shaking friend in a loose hug. Physical comfort was never his forte. Between the two of them, Andi has always played that part: the tight hugs and firm hands and back rubs and head scratches. Stephan has always been the one to provide comfort with carefully chosen words, but tonight even that seems to fail him.
Severin leans back against the doorframe, head in his hands. “I’m going crazy,” he mumbles and Pius nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around himself. Karl is still clinging to Stephan, whose ever active mind scrambles for something to do besides the endless waitingandhoping.
He comes up empty. He rubs small circles into Karl’s waist with his thumbs. He stands and stares at the shower curtain. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest against Karl when the harsh bathroom light hurts his eyes and intensifies his headache.
Faintly, in the other room, a phone starts ringing.
X
“Pick up pick up pick up-“
“Consti?!”
Andi sees the exact moment all the tension leaves Constantin’s body at the sound of Severin’s voice. The younger closes his eyes and sobs, drowning out the frantic stream of words coming from the other end of the line. Andi carefully grabs Consti’s hand and holds on tight, tears spilling down his cheeks. The flashing lights of the ambulance up by the road cast a blue shadow over both of them and it’s making Andi dizzy.
“Consti, thank God. Hey! Are you guys okay? Constantin! Answer me!” Severin sounds slightly hysterical, which isn’t a tone of voice Andi ever thought he’d hear Severin use. Not their calm, collected Severin.
Constantin takes a deep, shaky breath before he manages to reply. “They took Markus,” he whispers, voice rough and breaking. Andi squeezes his hand. “They took him away to the hospital first because- cause, it’s something with head trauma? And lots of blood. We don’t know how he-. They’re sending a second ambulance for us. Andi is with me, we’re, uh. Really fucking cold, actually. But we’re okay, I think. Mostly.”
Consti looks skeptically at Andi, who gives a confirming nod and attempts a smile, even though he’s feeling the absolute furthest from fine. Moving his head hurts, breathing is getting harder by the minute and he dreads the moment the paramedics come back for them to get them out of the ditch, because that requires getting up. One of them stayed behind and is currently searching through the medical bag to find something to stabilise his ankle with, while the others whisked away Markus as soon as the seriousness of his condition became apparent. They haven’t heard from him since.
There’s a few beats of silence on the other end of the line, then a bit of rustling before Pius’ voice sounds through the speaker, shaky and hoarse. “Consti, what happened? We’re worried sick.”
“Car accident. Some stupid truck driver was driving on the wrong side of the road and Welle didn’t have a chance to react.”
Andi flinches.
“The alternative was crashing head-on into the truck,” Constantin continues, and now that he’s started speaking, he can’t seem to stop. “The road was slippery, too, with all the ice and snow and whatnot-“
Andi’s vision goes dark around the edges.
“- and fuck, Pius, it was- no it’s just my shoulder, I really am okay- yes I’m crying, leave me alone. We haven’t heard from Markus but we’ll ask about him as soon as the other ambulance gets here-“
Someone flips a switch and the air in Andi’s lungs is replaced by a pain so sharp he feels like someone’s stabbed him with a knife, right between his ribs. He sucks in a desperate breath. No oxygen reaches his lungs.
“…we’ll meet you guys at the hospital, then?”
The knife twists.
“- tell Stephan Andi’s okay, he’s alive and- God, he saved me, he- Welle?”
Andi’s grip on Constantin is tight, fingernails buried in the palm of the younger’s hand, so deeply he draws blood. Had there been any oxygen left in his lungs to fuel his brain, he would’ve felt bad. There isn’t, though, so Andi roughly points to his chest and tries to breathe, come on, breathe, but he might as well have been drowning.
“No no no Andi no, hey you! Something’s wrong with him, help! Andi don’t do this to me, not you too, please…someone do something, please! Andi, fuck-“
Andi dimly registers his younger teammate sobbing into the phone; frantic voices talking over each other out of the speaker, but the sounds are muted, like he’s hearing them from under a thick blanket. There’s someone else at his side, pushing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, telling him something he can’t hear. The paramedic, his brain supplies helpfully through the haze of the panic, and Andi manages a last look at Constantin’s horrified face before everything goes black.
X
The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway are worse than the hotel bathroom lights. Stephan squints against the harsh brightness and tries, once again, to blink the dots out of his vision, which have been there since the phone call came. He feels like he’s on the constant verge of blacking out, lightheaded and with a persistent ringing in his ears, but the universe seems determined to keep him conscious through every torturous second of this horrible, horrible night.
They have been sitting on some uncomfortable chairs designed for waiting and despair for at least forty minutes by now, but no one’s told them anything yet. Karl has gotten up to get coffee three separate times, and each time he’s returned without any cups. Stephan hasn’t spoken a single word since they left the hotel in a hurry to get to the hospital. Severin keeps shooting him worried glances, and Stephan imagines what he must look like in Andi’s oversized merch and a quickly thrown on Germany jacket that’s way too thin for the temperature outside, curled up on two of the chairs, staring at the wall. Not much has happened since Constantin called them and assured them everyone was still alive; except they didn’t know about Markus’ condition. Not much has happened since a tight rope of fear and anxiety and worry had wound its way around Stephan’s heart and squeezed every little ounce of hope out of it when Constantin’s tone had turned from relieved to worried to panicked because apparently, the universe not only needed him to suffer through this consciously, no, it also wanted him to witness the sounds of Andi’s gasping breaths over the phone, unable to do anything except sit frozen on the hotel bed and keep breathing when Andi couldn’t.
A door opens down the hall. Constantin steps out into the hallway, face red and blotchy from crying, right arm in a sling and a blanket around his shoulders. Severin and Pius are up and at his side in an instant, wrapping the youngest in a careful hug and guiding his head to rest on Severin’s shoulder. Constantin clings to Pius’ hoodie like his life depends on it. Stephan feels himself tearing up, too, and when Sevi and Pius bring Consti over to Karl and him, Stephan hugs the younger fiercely.
“You’re shaking,” Constantin whispers against him and tightens his one-armed grip. “Have you heard anything from Andi and Markus?”
Stephan peels himself out of the hug and mutely shakes his head. Karl takes his turn to hug Constantin and when he finally lets go, Severin is there to wipe the tears off Consti’s cheeks. He tucks the youngest into his side after and sits them both down on the hard plastic chairs.
Constantin then recalls the entirety of the accident. He fills them in on every small detail, things Stephan never wants to hear again. Of course Andi would put his arm across the passenger seat in a situation like this. Of course he’d prioritize his teammates well-being over his own. And of course he wouldn’t tell Consti he wasn’t feeling well until he fucking collapsed on the phone for all of them to hear.
Stephan is going to kick his ass once he’s allowed to see him. And once he’s made sure Andi is alive with his own two eyes.
Karl’s leg is bouncing up and down restlessly by the time Constantin finishes. “So Markus is-“ he starts, then trails off. Stephan gets it. Consti does, too. He shrugs helplessly. “He was conscious for a short time and then he- wasn’t anymore. There was so much blood, Karl, I don’t-“
“Are you guys here for Markus Eisenbichler and Andreas Wellinger?”
They haven’t noticed the doctor approaching them, but there he stands, and Stephan unconsciously grabs Karl’s hand to ground himself. The ringing in his ears gets louder. Karl’s face drains of all colour. Constantin looks at the doctor with wide eyes.
Severin, the only one left with enough rational brain cells to communicate, confirms. The doctor trails his eyes over the five of them, lingers on Consti’s sling and beaten up face and apparently decides they look enough like family for him to inform them about their teammates‘ status.
“Markus just came out of surgery for his head trauma. The intracranial pressure wasn’t as high as we’d originally thought, so we didn’t have to put him in a medically induced coma like we’d planned to do. He’s heavily sedated at the moment, though, to give his body the chance to rest. He will likely not wake up for another day. Miraculously, he doesn’t have any other injuries besides harmless bruising from the impact.”
Karl sobs in relief and lets go of Stephan to drop his head into his hands. Pius puts an arm around him and rests his forehead on the younger’s back. Constantin exhales shakily and nods, leaning further into Severin’s side.
The rope around Stephan’s heart loses the tiniest bit, but the pounding in his head doesn’t ease. He stares at the doctor. “What about-,” he starts, clears his throat, voice rough from disuse. “What about Andreas?”
The whole hallway seems to quiet down. The doctor looks at his chart. “Wellinger, yes? He’s also been in surgery with a tension pneumothorax. It’s a miracle, really, how he was able to walk around and breathe this well with four fractured ribs on the right side. He pulled your teammate out of the car, you said?” The doctor looks at Constantin, who nods. “Spectacular. He’s lucky one of the ribs caused the pneumothorax that late. He wouldn’t have made it without the immediate paramedic care. Andreas also shows signs of a whiplash injury and a lateral ligament tear on his right foot. We were able to rule out any kinds of organic bleeding or injuries. He’ll have to take it slow with his ribs and get professional physiotherapeutic care for his foot, but other than that, we expect he will make a full recovery. Both of them,” he adds, “were incredibly lucky. Andreas has woken up shortly after the surgery and immediately asked for one-“ he looks at his chart again, “Stephan Leyhe?”
Stephan’s hands are trembling so badly he has to sit on them to make them stop. “He’s awake already?” he croaks out, barely holding himself together. Constantin’s uninjured hand finds its way to the back of Stephan’s neck and Stephan can feel the massive relief in that one tight squeeze meant to comfort.
“He is awake,” the doctor confirms, then smiles. “Stubborn that one, isn’t he? Refused to let us hook him up to any post-surgery IV until we agreed to bring you to him. If you’d be so kind as to follow me.”
Stephan stands up, catches himself on Karl’s shoulder when the hallway tilts dangerously beneath his shaking legs. Karl steadies him with a quick hand at his waist. Once he’s collected himself enough to stand on his own, he looks down at the others and opens his mouth.
“Nope,” Severin interrupts him before he’s even had the chance to speak. “None of that. He asked for you. Go see him first, it’s alright. We’ll get this one,” he points at Karl, “to go see Eisei and then find some hot chocolate to warm Consti up. You handle Andi best, anyways. We’ll come around later.”
Stephan manages the first smile in hours, and even though it’s small, it’s also genuine. Constantin gets up, too, and hugs him again. Stephan notices how cold their youngest still is and wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Tell him we’re all here, yes? Tell him I’m okay, thanks to him.” Constantin ponders over that for a moment. “Also tell him he’s stupid and if he scares me like that again I won’t sing One Direction songs with him anymore.”
“You listened to One Direction right before the accident? Of all things-“
Pius’ incredulous voice fades as Stephan follows the doctor down the hall and into the elevator. One floor up, one turn to the left, third door on the right and then there he is, looking small and frail in his hospital gown. The whole team is skinny and lean, yet Andi has always had a way of taking up more space than he needed to with his mega-watt smile and infinite charm. That Andi seems lightyears away now, and as Stephan stands frozen by the side of Andi’s bed, he does something he hasn’t done in a long time.
He sinks into the chair next to the bed and starts crying.
He sobs and weeps and wipes his tears on his jacket, which is useless because they won’t stop coming. There’s a hand on his thigh, squeezing weakly, and only then does he look up and sees a milder version of Andi’s trademark smile. “Don’t cry,” the younger whispers, still slightly out of it from all the surgery medication. “Not- ‘s not worth it. I’m good now.” Andi tries to open his eyes with great effort, successful after attempt number three. “See. All good.” He squints at Stephan, who’s holding his hand with the intention of never letting go. “That’s mine? ‘S that my shirt?”
Stephan nods weakly and guides Andi’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the younger’s knuckles. “I like it when you- when you wear my clothes. Look good in that. Should do that more often.” Slightly more awake now, Andi suddenly frowns. “Is Consti okay? Markus?” He wiggles around in his bed, attempting to sit up, hissing when his ribs painfully remind him he’s been in a car accident. Stephan gently presses him back down into the mattress.
“They’re both fine,” he tells Andi, who relaxes visibly. “They’ll come see you later. The doc said you asked for me?”
Andi nods. “Wanted to know how your head’s doing. Can’t have been the relaxed night you wanted. Has it gotten worse? Should we ring for someone? Maybe they can give you something for the headache.” He looks up at Stephan so earnestly, so innocently concerned, Stephan wants to punch him for daring to be worried about him instead of himself after just having survived a fucking car accident.
He also wants to kiss him.
He keeps that thought to himself.
“It’s better now,” Stephan tells him and can’t help but smile when Andi sighs in relief. “You should sleep, Andreas” he then adds, brushing one of Andi’s locks out of his eyes. Andi has the audacity to pout, even though his eyes are closing on their own account.
“Wanna see Consti and- and the others,” he mumbles quietly. “And won’t you be bored then? Did you- did you bring your book?”
Stephan has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying again. He’s cried enough for the next few years, really. “I’m good, don’t worry,” he whispers back. “I will wake you when the others come.”
Andi seems content with that. “Like Sleeping Beauty,” he breathes before falling asleep entirely.
Stephan presses another kiss to Andi’s hand, still holding it in both of his. He watches Andi’s face closely, still pale but at ease in his sleep.
“Like Sleeping Beauty, yes,” he confirms quietly, even though Andi is already too far gone to hear him. “Like a fairytale.”
Outside, the snow covers the trees in blankets of white.
Lol remember the note at the end of Chapter 3? I think? Of ALiP where I was like “mom is having brain surgery next chapter will take a few days” or something like that?
So after a second opinion with another surgeon who this time actually seems to care about my concerns… I guess I’m still having surgery.
I didn’t update about first consult cuz it went badly and I didn’t want to bother people with my crap, and I was also was still hoping there was a way to reverse it without surgery. Hoping that updating with this one might prevent me from trying to walk back on my decision later.
