#Pediatric Nurse Sweatshirt

[studyinnursing]

Pediatric Nurse Sweatshirt | Studyinnursing.com

Elevate your style with our Pediatric Nurse Sweatshirt, designed for comfort and showcasing your dedication to pediatric nursing. Explore our collection of nurse apparel and accessories to find the perfect addition to your wardrobe.

Pediatric Nurse Sweatshirt

[rainbow-baby-one]

Pediatric Dream Team!!

[zickmonkey]

I made a new self insert

[littlegalaxychild]

Yandere Alpha Derek Shepherd x Omega Reader x Alpha Meredith Grey

TW: GUilt tripping, baby trapping.

The Reader just entered college and realizes how expensive it is, so she joins a "Sugar alphas who want a sugar omega to spoil" type website. And instantly, she gets two looks at her profile. She answers Meredith's first The Reader gets a scarf delivered to her apartment with a scent sample of Meredith's scent, which I think would smell like smoke and Coffee

Reader's inner omega accepts the scarf, so Meredith starts spoiling her. Derek becomes curious about who Meredith is spoiling, so Derek asks Meredith what's going on. So Meredith tells Derek and shows him a picture of the Reader. The Reader soon gets a scarf delivered of Derek's scent, which is a mixture of expensive cologne (that's not overpowering), flannel, and musk The Reader accepts Derek's scarf, so now she has two powerful alphas in her back pocket. But here's the thing: The Reader keeps a secret of what she's studying in college (I imagine she's learning to become a pediatric nurse), causing her to become stressed out. Derek and Meredith hate seeing her stressed out, so they dig into the readers at her college and learn that she's studying to become a pediatric nurse. But their respective inner alphas hate it; they want to spoil her and make her look like a housewife. They make enough money (both of them) that the Reader doesn't have to worry about their pretty little head working. So, one day, Reader doesn't have any classes. They bring her into the hospital. The Reader is wearing Meredith's heavily scented Dartmouth sweatshirt and Derek's sweatpants. Derek mentions how the hospital could be the same hospital that Reader works at so that the Alphas can be closer to their omega and how it will make courting easier. But… The Reader looks at them, confused. Reader explains to Derek and Meredith how she's only at the college cause it's a full scholarship. She says (that instantly makes Derek's and Meredith's eyes red) that she's moving away to her home state once she graduates. But Derek and Meredith introduced her to their Pack (MAGIC, Bailey, Mark, etc.). So, now they are doing Plan A before Plan D. They both Guilt her into staying in Washington. And since the Pack likes the Reader, too, they help. Reader is firm on her decision, but Meredith and Derek have already manipulated the University into kicking Reader out of her dorm, so she has to move in with Meredith and Derek. When the Reader discovers what Meredith and Derek did, she tries to cut off contact despite living with them. However, the idea of them pulling the plug on her tuition scares her, so she does some housework when she isn't studying. But one day, the Reader overheard Meredith and Derek talking about (dark TW) baby trapping her and making her drop out.

She hates it

But wanna know something?

In this world, it's legal to baby trap an omega, depending on what state you live in

And it's legal in Washington.

So what Meredith and Derek are doing and planning on doing is legal The Reader tries to run away, but since Meredith and Derek already filled out the intent to Mate forms, she gets returned to them. THEY ARE PISSED They tell the University to pull her out of her program They punish her hard and roughly It's to the point they constantly use their alpha voices on her do they forgive her eventually?… Yes, but it takes a long time They bite her neck on her first heat with them Alphas use a mating collar to make their omegas in public, and it's supposed to be degrading. Reader tries to act out, but Meredith shuts it down by being manipulative, while Derek is more physical.

[chronicparagon]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

NAME: Harmony Celestine Halcyon, Chickasaw name was Nita' Ishkanno' si' (Little Bear) until she graduated from high school when she got the name Ihoo Nita'(Bear Woman).

NICKNAME: It’s verse and ship dependent, but the default is Har and Harmy. Verse and ship-dependent nicknames are Little Dove (by Envy), Care Bear (by Takumi), Camellia (by the Jailer), Beacon (by Julian), and affectionate nicknames like dear or babe by other partners in their own verse.

TITLE(S):  Usually Miss Harmony except in some verses where she’s Officer Halcyon in her police verse, or Doctor Halcyon in her physician’s assistant verse. In verses where she is married, it becomes Mrs.

AGE: Default age is 21 years, but it’s verse dependent.

SPECIES: Human

SEX: Female

NATIONALITY: Chickasaw (American) Also from the Lakota on her father's side.

INTERESTS: Nature, animals, medical science (especially maternal, neonatal and pediatric health), holistic healing, swimming, hiking, the paranormal (specifically ghosts, spirits, demonology, and cryptids), horror movies (the older, the better), vampires, Halloween, the night, learn and appreciate other cultures, music (she loves all forms but can sing and play guitar), hygge (pronounced as hooga, and means coziness or taking time to enjoy life’s quieter pleasures), arts, crafts and diys, video games, desserts and baked goods.

PROFESSION: Default verse is a university student who works part-time as a barista or server. She is studying to be a certified nurse-midwife (CNM). Becomes a CNM later on. Other verses have Harmony as a nurse (primary care or general practice), physician’s assistant (primary care), detective, or police officer. In the Mobius verse, (with Julian) Harmony is the diplomat representing Robotropolis.

In the more fantasy-like verse, she is a healer who has an apothecary or is a cleric (later high priestess) of a deity of darkness and shadows (but deity’s identity is also verse dependent)

BODY TYPE: The best description for her figure is pear-shaped, meaning her hips and thighs are wider than her bust. She isn’t muscular but is toned from exercises like swimming.

EYES: Bright silver

HAIR: Very dark reddish-brown, almost black with red highlights. It shines red under the light. It’s about waist length and straight. Usually styles it down, but sometimes have it in a high ponytail, loose ponytail, braids, or messy bun. Harmony’s fringe covers her eyebrows and can be messy. When her hair is pulled back or up, she has framing locks loose.

SKIN: Tan with her burn scars from her right shoulder down her arm having darker pigment.

POSTURE: She tries to stand and sit up straight, but tends to slouch when sitting too long. Sometimes she crosses one leg over the other when she sits, but never does that when she’s wearing a dress or skirt.

HEIGHT: 5’4”

VOICE: Harmony has a girlish voice and is usually soft-spoken but is louder when she’s excited, angry, scared, or upset. She is very expressive, and her voice would reveal that. She enjoys singing, so her singing voice is best described as second soprano (lower than first soprano, but higher than alto).

The closest voice that matches what I have in mind for Harmony is Aurora’s voice from this game. You will hear the voice throughout the teaser: Link

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: Verse dependent and season dependent but default outfit is a pair of black denim shorts that are frayed at the hem, a white or black tank top, a green bomber jacket, and a pair of black biker boots. In the colder months, she would wear a pair of black jeans, tank top, and sweatshirt, hoodie, or a black coat with black Mukluks (favors the Manitobah brand). Jewelry varies by outfit but usually wears a bear claw pendant which was a gift from her grandfather.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Verse dependent

COMPANIONS: Verse dependent

ANTAGONISTS: Verse dependent

STRENGTHS: Kind, gentle, motherly, protective of others, polite, adventurous, open-minded, forgiving (to a point), loyal.

WEAKNESSES: Chronic heroism, willing to help everyone even to her own detriment or risk of making things worse, very stubborn, a little naïve, too trusting, tends to act with emotions and not think things through.  

FRUITS: Harmony favors berries like huckleberries, blueberries, blackberries, and strawberries. She also likes oranges (especially blood orange), bananas, and cherries.

DRINKS: Coffee, water, cola, and other sodas

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: Usually about 1-2 mixed drinks/cocktails a month or so. Harmony can drink straight alcohol but prefers fruity mixed drinks. She doesn’t drink much. It’s very rare when she gets tipsy. She doesn’t drink when in verses where she’s expecting little ones.

SMOKES: No

DRUGS: No

DRIVER'S LICENSE: She has a license and an older black BMW that she got from a used car dealership. It’s not brand new and has a lot of miles, but it’s reliable. She also has a motorcycle after she turns 18, which she named Violet for its color.

Stole it from @paleobird

Tagging: @s-talking, @spectralhunter, @whispers-in-daydreams (for Scarlett, please), @rubbarband, @b-erserk, @neglectedbond (for any muse, please), @riftofthestars (for any muse, please), @archivisim (for any muse, please), @skullboysfinale (for any muse, please), @gearlessjunkdogjoe , @thehouseofivo (for Julian, please), @strykingback (for Zeks, please), @the-expatriate, @pocket-sized-lawyer (for Junsui, please), @pinklocksoflove (for Karine, please), @rikelusshinra, @fantasyconcrete (for Canticum, please), @beloved-death (for Mason or any muse, please), @burdened-boy, @burdened-android, @raktanag, @hriobzagelthewanderer, @electricea, @pluviacuratio, @diotheworldus, @monochromatic-minds (for any muse, please), @tximidity @keithhoward, @a-dragon-and-an-eagle (for Shyvana, please), @mused-like-roses (for Dante, please) and everyone else who wants to do this!

[rainbow-baby-one]

https://www.tumblr.com/rainbow-baby-one/725658238848303104/pediatric-dream-team-shirts-peds-nurse-sweatshirt?source=share

[briamichellewrites]

72

Elliot was in the intensive care unit after developing a cold. She had a cough, a sore throat, congestion, and sneezing. Brad had found her not feeling well when he came to pick her up for her appointment. He called her oncologist, who recommended getting her to the hospital due to her damaged immune system. After finishing the call, he went over to her and told her what they were going to do. It was a lot better to be safe than sorry. She got up slowly and he helped her into her wheelchair.

After helping her get dressed in a t-shirt, sweatshirt, sweatpants, hat, and jacket, she ate breakfast. He then brought her out to his car and he helped her in before putting her wheelchair in the back. She kept her blanket over her lap to keep her warm. It was sixty degrees out but it felt colder. He ran back inside to get her medical information because they would need that.

She put on a mask before going inside. After being examined by a triage nurse, she was given a room whilst they waited for the doctor. She pulled the blanket up to her neck before coughing. Brad felt helpless because he didn’t know what to do or even if she was going to be okay. He sent a quick text to Anna letting her know where he was. The doctor came in and introduced himself. He then asked about what brought them in.

They explained her symptoms, as well as her status as a cancer patient. What kind of cancer was she getting treatment for? Pediatric breast cancer. How long has she been receiving treatment? It’s been over a year. She had a lumpectomy and they were going to visit her oncologist to talk about the possibility of doing more chemotherapy because of the remaining cancer cells.

During the exam, she coughed again. What did she feel when she coughed? Her head hurt. What kind of pain was it? It felt like a headache. It was moderately painful. The doctor recommended that she be admitted to the intensive care unit because she could get more sick being in the emergency department. While he made arrangements for that to happen, Brad comforted his daughter. She was going to be okay. He rubbed her back.

The ICU was scary because it was full of people who were very sick. She was hooked up to machines that took her vitals. An IV was placed on her arm to deliver fluids and medication. She also had a ventilator placed over her mouth and nose to help her breathe. Out in the hallway, he gave an update to Anna before calling her nurse to let her know.

Elliot is in the ICU for a cold. Please keep her in your thoughts and send her strength. – Brad

Only he could visit her because he was immediate family. He had to wear a face mask and wash his hands before he could visit. Her blanket was put into a bag because it contained germs. She was given a new blanket. That made her sad because she loved that blanket but she understood why she couldn’t have it. It could make someone else very sick. The nurse apologized. She gave a thumbs-up because she couldn’t talk.

“Thumbs up? Ok, thank you.”

She pulled the blanket up to her chin, as the nurse left. It was cold in the intensive care unit. She had taken off her jacket because it wasn’t comfortable. It was in her wheelchair. She looked at the equipment in curiosity and she tried to figure out what everything was for. One monitor took readings of her heart rate, blood pressure, respiratory rate, and O2 levels.

Her finger went up and down with the waves of her heart monitor. It was fascinating as it momentarily distracted her. She then looked at her father and laughed a little. What was she laughing at? She pointed to the heart rate and made waves using her finger. Being in the hospital wasn’t fun, so she was making her own fun. He still had no idea what she was doing. The heart monitor waves. Oh. He laughed with her. Was she easily distracted? She nodded.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Because he had to keep his phone off, he couldn’t reply to messages from Anna or her nurse. The cell signal interfered with the medical equipment. He would check his phone later. Anna had contacted Mike, who let the band know. She didn’t have very much information about what was going on because Brad had only given her a brief text.

Just got off the phone with Brad. Elliot is on a ventilator to help her breathe. She is also getting fluids through an IV. He is going to find out who can visit, so they can take turns being there with her. – Anna

He was able to get special permission from the head doctor to allow George to visit because he was a very close family friend and the only other person she had. What was his name? George Clooney. The actor? Yeah. He was like an uncle to his daughter. Okay, they would let him visit. He thanked him before going back outside to use his phone.

When he sat down on a bench, he laughed quietly. He would never use his or anyone else’s fame to get special privileges or treatment. But he thought it was amusing how the doctor had permitted once he heard George’s name. Elliot was asleep when he got back, so he sat back down after washing his hands outside of her room. He wanted her to rest because she was fighting against infection, as well as cancer. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve this.

He thought about telling her that it was okay to let go. They had been at home talking about her decision to go back to chemotherapy after learning that she still had cancerous cells. If she was ready to stop treatment, he would respect that.

“That’s the thing I’m afraid of the most. I have to keep telling myself that you’re going to beat this and that you are going to live your dreams. You have been so strong since your diagnosis, even when you’ve broken down into tears. You have never given up. There has never been a day when I haven’t been proud to be your father. If the worst happens, I will know that you fought as hard as you could until the end. If you want to stop treatment, I will respect that. As difficult as it may be. It has always been your body and your choice.”

He wanted her to be free from cancer, even if it meant letting her die. I’m not ready to die yet. As he looked at her laying with a mask over her face, he hoped she would be able to come home. He selfishly didn’t want her to die because he wasn’t ready to lose her. Please don’t take her away from me. She’s going to get through this and live out her dreams. He had to believe that.

He silently cried as the monitors continued beeping. The monitors were there to remind him she was still alive. He wiped his tears. After sleeping for an hour, she woke up. How was her nap? She gave another thumbs up before making a finger gun. Bang. He laughed and nodded. Yeah, he remembered teaching her that when she was younger. They had been on the set of the Mexican and were goofing around. He remembered her shooting Gore Verbinski’s coffee mug.

He had so many memories like that and he hoped he never lost them. After getting up, he kissed her forehead. I love you. She made a heart with her hands before pointing at him. I love you, too.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[maattamatthews]

Meeting Luke’s parents for the first time if you can! (Luke Martin)

You and Luke had only been dating for about four months when he proposed the idea to met his parents. They were coming up from St. Louis for senior night and he thought it would be the best time to meet them. You were terrified, to say the least. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to meet your boyfriend’s parents, you really wanted to meet them. You just were worried that they wouldn’t like you.

“Luke!” You call from his bedroom.

“What’s up?” He said as he walked into the room from the bathroom. He was buttoning his shirt and grabbed his tie from his dresser.

“What time are your parents getting here?” You asked.

“Mom texted me about five minutes ago and said they should be here in like twenty minutes,” Luke said as he tied his tie in the mirror.

You got up from his bed and walked over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and sighed into his back. Luke felt the stress radiating off of you, and paused his movements to place his hands on top of yours. 

“It’s gonna be okay, babe.” He started. “They are so excited to meet you!”

“I’m just scared they won’t like me,” You said.

“They are gonna love you,” Luke said as he turned around in your arms to face you. “But what if they don’t?” You said as you looked up at him.

“Y/N, trust me on this okay?”

“Fine,” you said with a groan. You removed your arms from his waist and reached up to run your hands through his hair. His hands stayed on your waist as he ducked down and placed a quick kiss on your lips. 

“Now, I gotta tie my tie, and then we can wait downstairs for them,” Luke said with enthusiasm. Luke quickly tied his tie, threw his suit jacket on, and grabbed his phone and keys. You slipped your shoes on and followed him out of his room and down the stairs of the house. 

Will and Griffin were sat on the couch, watching highlights from whatever NHL game was on last night. They were both dressed in their game day suits, much like Luke. You leaned against the back of the couch in your jeans and one of Luke’s hockey sweatshirts that seemed to swallow you. 

“When are your parents getting here?” Griffin asked Luke.

“They should be here any minute honestly,” Luke replied. 

“How long was their drive?” Will asked. 

“About seven hours, but they stayed in Chicago last night so they could leave early this morning.”

“Where are they staying?” You asked as you leaned against Luke who was standing next to you.

“They’re staying at a hotel near campus,” Luke said.

Right when he said that, there was a knock on the front door. Luke walked over and opened the door to reveal his parents. His mom quickly engulfed him into a hug and then his dad did the same. You quietly walked over and stood next to Luke after he greeted his parents.

“Mom, Dad, this is Y/N!” Luke said with a bright smile.

“Hi,” you said shyly. You stuck your hand out for them to shake, but his mom chose to forgo that and pull you in for a tight hug.

“Oh hello, honey! We have heard so much about you!” She said with joy.

“All good things I hope,” you laughed.

“All good things,” Luke replied.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” his father said as he gave you a quick hug as well.

“You guys ready to go?” His mom asked as you pulled your jacket on.

“Yep!” Luke said for both of you. “I’ll see you guys at the rink!” He shouted to Will and Griffin who were still in the living room.

You followed Luke’s parents out of the house while he closed the door behind him. You walked to his parent’s car where Luke got in the passenger seat while his mom sat next to you in the back. You get situated as the car pulls away from the curb and towards Yost.

“So Y/N,” his mom starts, “Luke tells us that you are a nursing student! How do you like it?” 

“Oh, I love it!” You started to say. “I can’t wait until I get my degree and can start working full time, to be honest.”

“What area do you see yourself working in?” His dad asked from the driver’s seat.

“I’ve always seen myself working with kids, so hopefully pediatrics. I have thought about going into some sports realm though because this one has given me enough practice attending to injuries.” Yod said as you placed a hand on Luke’s arm.

“Oh, my injuries are not that bad!” He said jokingly. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.” You replied.

The quick car ride to Yost is filled with stories about Luke as a child, stories about his family, and getting to know his parents. 

“I’ll see you guys after the game?” Luke asked before we went our separate ways.

“Of course dear,” his mother said.

“Good luck out there,” You said before you kissed him quick.

“I got all three of my good luck charms here today,” He said as he wrapped you in a hug. When he let go, he hugged both of his parents and then walked towards the player’s entrance. 

You and his parents walked into Yost and to your seats. Throughout the game, you got to know his parents and they got to know you. The boys won the game, and after it ended, they had the celebratory send-off for all the seniors. You and his mom held each other close as they called his name. You were holding back tears for his mom’s sake, but you knew that they were still in your eyes. After the game, you went and met him back at the car. 

“Oh come here,” his mom said through tears. She pulled him close embraced him tightly. His dad did the same after his mom let him go. 

“I’m proud of you,” you said giving him a quick squeeze. Luke laughed into your hair before he pulled away. He kept an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Alrighty,” he said. “Drinks on me?” 

You all nod in agreement and hop into the car. After a few drinks and crappy bar food, his parents drop you guys off at his house. You make plans to see each other tomorrow for brunch and they pull away from the curb. 

When you and Luke are finally in bed for the night, he turns to face you.

“They really love you,” he said half-awake.

“I really love them too,” you said.

“Were the nerves worth it?” he asked. 

“No, but your parents are some of the sweetest people I have ever met. I now know where you get your charm from.” You whispered as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[wkemeup]

Feel Again

summary: Instantly captivated by the woman the nurses have dubbed the��‘frequent flyer’ of the emergency department, Bucky can’t help but fall for Y/n. He relishes every moment he can spend with her and with her apparent clumsiness, it’s quite often. That is, until he learns the real reason behind her injuries.

pairing: doctor!bucky x reader

word count: 13k 😬

warnings: mentions of a physically abusive relationship (no direct descriptions of violence), descriptions of injuries

authors’s note: this def gets a little dark but I promise it’s worth it. please enjoy a very lovestruck/protective bucky 🥰

“Alright little man,” Bucky chuckled, brushing his hand over the curls of the three-year-old boy name Nico sitting in his father’s lap upon a cot. The busy chaos of the emergency department had Nico clinging onto his stuff stuffed stegosaurus for dear life, curled up against his father’s chest. 

Small brown eyes looked up nervously as Bucky knelt down at Nico’s eye level. He pointed to the Band-Aid he had obtained special from the pediatrics floor on the boy’s elbow, light green and covered in small cartoon dinosaurs.

“Don’t go running down the stairs again, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

Nico nodded, his curls bouncing into his eyes. Bucky stood up with a grin and shook the hand of Nico’s father who apologized for the fifth time in as many minutes for bringing his son in for such a small cut. His wife was away on business and he had a bad habit of panicking at the small things when it came to their son.  

“Always better to be safe,” Bucky advised, offering the nervous father an encouraging smile as he slid the chart into the basket at the end of the bed. The man hugged his son tightly before he reached for their coats, thanking Bucky again for his time. He watched as Nico’s father lifted him easily into his arms and carried him to the exit of the emergency department. 

As they pushed open the doors, Bucky caught a brief glimpse of the night sky, blanketed in darkness and freckled in stars. Last he knew the sun was still above the skyline. He glanced up at the bright red numbers illuminated above the nurses’ station to read it was nearing on one in the morning. Bucky sighed, giving himself only a moment to breathe before he recognized Steve jogging in his direction.  

“Buck!” Steve called over the loud chatter of irritable patients waiting for their turn and the constant beeping of about a dozen heart monitors. He shoved his way through a hoard of interns in light blue scrubs gathered over the bed of a man talking casually despite the knife protruding from his collarbone and grumbled something about ‘dough eyed idiots’ under his breath. Panting for a moment as he reached Bucky, he glanced down at the clipboard.  

“I need you on bed eight.”

“You doing okay, Steve?” Bucky smirked, leaning against the countertop at the nurses’ station. “Looks like being head of trauma ain’t all it’s worked up to be. You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“We’re swamped,” Steve grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. One of the nurses could be heard scolding an intern with defibrillator paddles in his hands as the patient was opening his eyes from a heavy sleep. “The interns are completely useless and I’ve got more patients than beds. This full moon shit is killing us.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he moved toward the bed at the end of the line. “Take a breath, Stevie. Sam’s on call for tonight. Why don’t you give him a ring?”

“Yeah I bet he’ll love that,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell him it was your idea, too.”  

"Wouldn’t that be a damn shame,” Bucky called over his shoulder, chucking to himself as he swerved his way through the crowd of people gathered for the injured soccer player in bed six.  

Bed eight sat at the end of the series of cots lining the east wall of the department. It was tucked a little further into the corner, separated by a series of rolling carts and machines, so it at least felt slightly less claustrophobic than the rest of the beds around here.  

The curtain was drawn around the bed, obstructing the patient from view, so Bucky took a minute to glance over the chart.  

Y/n Rumlow. Female. No record of prior medical history, which was a bit unusual, but the nurses had at least taken down note that the presenting problem was pain and swelling at the wrist. Shouldn’t be too difficult to manage. He could have her out of here in a few minutes and on to the next patient before Steve started flogging the interns or actually woke up Sam, for which Bucky would face some serious death glares for the rest of the night.  

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the well recited speech he usually doled out to patients.

With a quick tug, Bucky swung open the curtain, eyes still glued to the clipboard, “Good evening, ma’am. My name is Dr. Barnes and I’ll be--”  

A yelp sounded over the metal rings sliding against the rod over his head and Bucky froze.  

He glanced up over the brim of the chart to find a young woman sitting cross legged on the bed, dressed in light wash jeans and a sweatshirt with faded lettering worn with years of use. Her hair was tied up away from her face, like she had thrown it up last minute before leaving the house, messy strands falling down from the bun. The faint discoloration of dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the imprint of what appeared to be the fold of a pillow case on her cheek.

Bucky noticed almost instantly that she was undeniably, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.   

She was gingerly resting her right wrist against her knee just over the rip in of jeans. Her phone sat on the bed by her hip, softly playing music from the speaker as the headphones must have yanked accidentally from the plug. Wide eyes, a breath coming in too quick, a hand stabilizing against her chest, and Bucky realized he had startled her.  

“Sorry I scared you there, Miss, uh,” Bucky chuckled nervously, glancing down at the chart for her name again, “Rumlow.”

“Y/L/n-Rumlow, actually,” she corrected with a soft, almost proud, smile and Bucky wondered if he ever heard a voice as sweet as hers before. 

She pulled the headphones from her ears and quickly turned off the music playing from her phone. The strum of the guitar silenced, something that sounded familiar to Bucky though he couldn’t quite place it, and the unnerving noise of a busy ER filled the room again.

"Y/n is just fine,” she added and Bucky’s heartbeat kicked up.  

“Okay then, Y/n,” Bucky smiled back at her as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the way her name felt on the edge of his lips. He swallowed, cursing at himself for the flush in his cheeks that seemed to redden the longer she looked at him.  

He had a job to do. Might as well focus on that instead of the anxious energy surging in his veins.  

He gestured for her hand. “Why don’t I take a look at that?”

“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time. I’m sure there’s someone who needs your help more than me right now,” she said nervously, glancing down at the series of bed filled with patients and the bustling families around them. 

Bucky noticed then that she was alone, and he wondered why that was. 

“I’m sure I’m probably fine,” she continued with a shrug, “but I didn’t want it to get worse, you know?”

Bucky nodded, watching the way she kept glancing down at the eight-year-old in bed five who hadn’t stopped coughing since he arrived, skin flushed red and sweat dripping down his back. His mother sat on the cot with him, running her hands along his damped hair as the poor boy looked like he was about to faint at any minute.  

“You’re not preventing anyone else from getting care,” Bucky assured her genuinely.

Steve approached the boy and his mother just a moment later and Bucky nodded down towards them. Y/n followed his gaze and her lips curved up against her cheeks, watching intently as Steve took off his stethoscope and let the boy listen to his own heartbeat. A grin broke through the boy’s tired face and he gestured excitedly for his mom to try.  

“I’m sure you see a lot of pain working in a trauma center like this,” she said, gaze still trained on the boy, watching him with a kind of secondhand joy that made Bucky’s stomach weak. He didn’t know people were still this genuine. She turned back to him. “Do you have good moments like that, too?”

Bucky nodded, his cheeks a little sore from smiling. No one had ever asked him that before.

“We do, actually. The good moments aren’t always cute kids, though.” He could feel her eyes on him and he took a deep breath, continuing. “Sometimes, the good moments are when a patient’s heart rhythm picks up again after flatlining long past when someone else would have called it or when we’re able to stabilize a patient coming in from a car wreck long enough to get them up to the operating room or when we catch a tumor in a scan for a concussion that’ll probably end up saving their life. That kind of stuff happens more often than you’d think.”  

Bucky didn’t realize how wide he was smiling, caught up in the memories, until he noticed the bewilderment with which Y/n was watching him, eyes practically sparkling, as he was lost in his own world to just talk about what made this job worth all of the bad timing and the lost causes.  

“But a lot of times it’s the cute kids,” Bucky added, chuckling softly under his breath.  

“It’s really nice that you care so much about what you do,” Y/n said, almost longingly with a bit of an ache in her voice that Bucky didn’t catch. “Not everyone is fortunate enough for that.”

Bucky shrugged, trying to brush it off casually. He glanced down at her wrist, noticing the way she was favoring it as she had pulled it closer to her hip bone.

“I should probably take a look at that, then. Since I care so much,” Bucky said with a teasing smirk, one that somehow made her smile even wider and he swore he could just stare at the way her lips curved so sweetly against the soft hue in her cheeks for eternity and be content.  

“Right, of course,” she giggled, extending her arm towards him.  

She hissed as he took her wrist carefully into his grasp, a frown pursing over her lips and Bucky cursed himself for being the cause of it. He ran his fingers carefully over the swollen area, light bruising forming at the surface, and he glanced up to gage for her reaction to find her pulling her lower lip into her mouth, biting at the dry skin.  

“What’s the damage, doc?”

“It’s definitely sprained,” Bucky admitted, reaching for the cart next to the bed and dragged it towards him. The wheels clicked against the tile surface and he pulled open the second to top drawer, rummaging through the supplies until he pulled out a long, tan bandage. “I’m going to wrap this, alright? It may hurt a bit.”

She nodded as Bucky began to unroll the bandage. He glanced up at her, finding himself wanting to know more about a patient than the necessary questions for the first time in years. 

He wanted to know what school that sweatshirt was from because he couldn’t quite make out the faded lettering on his own. He wanted to know what artist she had been listening to when he startled her and if she made playlists for the weather and obscure kinds of moods like he did. He wanted to know if her eyes were naturally such a warm, inviting hue or if she smiled like that at everyone or if she wanted to go to dinner Friday night--

Wait.  

Focus.  

Bucky set the beginning of the bandage at the inside of her wrist and began to wrap it carefully around her arm and then up around her palm between her thumb and pointer finger, and then back around her wrist twice. As he worked, he could sense her eyes on him, watching, and he found himself needing to ask her more questions just to hear her voice again.

“So, no medical history, huh?”

“Just moved to the area,” she replied quickly, a little flatter than what her tone had been before though Bucky didn’t pay it any mind. “Haven’t had a chance to find a primary doc or transfer my records yet.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied enough with her answer, though he didn’t notice the way her shoulders seemed to sigh in relief when he didn’t probe further. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for patients to show up without a medical history, especially if they were from out of state or hadn’t been to a provider within the hospital’s network before. He didn’t think too much of it.  

“So, you wanna tell me what happened that you sprained your wrist at this time of night?” Bucky asked playfully as he secured the adhesive end and released her hand.  

She flinched slightly at his question and Bucky narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment to watch her as she averted her gaze to his hands. She shrugged, though a sliver of hesitation slipped in before she spoke.

“Oh, I just tripped over some shoes in the hallway coming back from a shift. Landed wrong.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unsure. He swore he remembered seeing the indent of a pillow crease on her cheek when he first sat down, like she had woken up from a deep sleep, but then she started to laugh. She had those crinkles up by the sides of her eyes that made Bucky’s stomach flutter and he couldn’t remember why he asked in the first place.  

“I’m pretty clumsy, actually,” she sighed with that grin that made Bucky’s stomach churn. She brought her left hand up to her lips to hide the smile Bucky couldn’t seem to look away from as a blush filled her cheeks.

That was, until he noticed the flash of a diamond reflect under the florescent lights and his heart sank. 

He shouldn’t be surprised; didn’t know why he was. A girl like that, so effortlessly beautiful and a smile that could instant light an entire room; he didn’t have a chance. Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, forcing out a grin to match hers despite the disappointment wallowing in his stomach.  

“Well, I don’t want to keep you too long,” Bucky said as he stood from the bed, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “Just make sure you ice that and get yourself a primary doc, okay?”

She nodded quickly, gathering her phone and headphones into her bag before she slid herself off the side of the bed. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I really do appreciate your time.”

“Bucky,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. She raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You can call me Bucky. You know, if you, uh, ever find yourself back here which I, um, of course hope you... don’t.”  

Cheeks flushed red with an embarrassment he was entirely unused to talking to a woman and Y/n grinned so wide he was sure the corners of her lips might touch her ears. He’d never seen anything like it.  

“Okay, Bucky,” she said sweetly and he wanted her to say his name a dozen more times. “Hope you have some good moments tonight.”

Bucky smiled, giving her a subtle wave as he watched her disappear into the crowd of doctors and patients before he caught sight of her again by the door. She paused, digging into her bag for her phone, brushing a fallen hair behind her ear and huffing it out of her face when it fell back a second later. The soft pout on her face made Bucky’s legs weak. Once she pulled the phone from her bag, a frown pursed over her lips and her shoulders seemed to stiffen. Bucky was about to walk over to make sure she was alright when he felt a nudge in his shoulder.  

“You look like a complete idiot, just so you know,” Sam grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he clearly was following his gaze.  

Bucky tore his eyes away from Y/n reluctantly as Sam began to snicker to himself. He grabbed a chart out of the hands of an intern as they walked by and tracked down some kid named Peter Parker in bed two with a glorified bug bite.

When he looked for Y/n again, she was gone.  

***

“You’re thinking about the girl from bed eight again, aren’t you?”  

Bucky lifted his head from his arms folded against the countertop of the nurses’ station and sent a glare in Sam’s direction. He hadn’t had a decent night sleep in four days and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift, the lack of sleep evident in the bags below his eyes and the messy wave in his hair. He only agreed to stay an extra hour to help Steve with the transition of interns coming onto the night shift so his patience was incredibly thin, especially for Sam’s antics.  

“She’s married, Sam,” Bucky groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t matter if I’m thinking about her. She’s not available.”

“Maybe it’s a green card marriage,” Sam offered and Steve wacked him upside the head. He shrugged, seemingly unbothered, though he ducted out of Steve’s reach before he spoke again. “Maybe the guy’s emotionally unavailable and she’s looking for a way out. Or... maybe she’s in the market for some side action.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s hip with his own, making some ridiculous cooing noise. He apparently found himself to be incredibly hilarious as he nearly doubled over laughing at Bucky’s non-reaction.

“It’s been three weeks, Buck,” Steve said cautiously, shoving Sam away and stepping between the two as usually found himself doing. “Maybe you should let Nat set you up with the nurse in cardiology.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Look, I appreciate the thought but I’m way too busy for--”

“Dr. Barnes?” one of the interns came up behind him, timid voice barely heard over the hustle of the ER. Bucky turned around to face her. Wanda, he thought. She handed him a chart. “Bed fourteen is asking for you specifically.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her that we don’t--”

“Thanks Wanda,” Bucky pressed out a smile, interrupting Sam as his eyes fell upon the name listed at the top of the chart. 

Sam glanced rather obviously over his shoulder and started chuckling to himself, saying something to Steve Bucky knew would only come at his own expense, but he took off towards the west side of the department without waiting to hear what is was.  

He couldn’t seem to get there quick enough. Several interns tried to snag him away as he walked past, asking questions they should have learned in their first year, but he shrugged them off, gesturing for one of the nurses to assist them instead. The nurses always seemed to know more than the interns anyway.

Sure enough, as he turned the corner, there she was. 

Hair cascading down over her shoulders, exposing the soft curl amongst messy waves he hadn’t seen the last time she visited. She was in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, almost as if she had just crawled out of bed and still, she was hands down the most captivating person within view.  

Her eyes glanced around the room, almost curiously, just watching the doctors as they scribbled their messy handwriting into charts, nurses as they drew IV and scowled at the interns, and patients as they muttered amongst one another, complaining of the noise and the long wait time. Bucky found himself grinning before he even took another step in her direction.  

She hadn’t noticed him approach the side of the bed and when he cleared his throat to say hello, she recoiled away as if something had burned her. Her hand clasped to her chest, breath picking up in pace, eyes wide in such a familiar state to when Bucky first met her.  

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurted out, sliding her chart into the basket at the end of the bed. He scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Man, I’ve got a habit of scaring you, don’t I? Guess I should learn to walk a little louder...”

Y/n relaxed instantly as her eyes fell upon him, a blush burning in her cheeks as she grimaced at him, though it turned into that sweet smile Bucky missed so much.

“No, no it’s my fault,” she waved him off, laughing nervously. “I startle easy.”

Bucky nodded, already feeling a contentment just being around her again. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to captivate him so quickly, so easily, without much effort at all. The way she was looking up at him, under thick lashes and a soft red in her cheeks, Bucky felt like he could melt.  

“So, what’s going on this time?” Bucky smiled, pulling up a stool and wheeling it under him as he sat next to her bed. She extended her right hand in his direction, wrist covered in the bandage that should have been removed over a week ago.  

“I think I messed up your good work,” she frowned, her gaze darting to the ground, almost shamefully. It sat in startling contrast to the kind features in her face.  

“It’s not my work I’m worried about,” Bucky said lightly, hoping to get her smiling again. “What happened?”

Y/n didn’t respond for a moment. Instead, her eyes were focused on the way Bucky’s hands grazed over her wrists tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure, his own eyes flickering up to hers every once in a while to make sure he wasn't accidentally using too much force. 

“I um,” Y/n started, slowly bringing herself to meet Bucky’s eye when he paused, waiting for her to respond. A smile curved at her lips, though something felt a little off about it. “I tripped over the damn cat. Can you believe that? If I’m gonna fall so much maybe I shouldn’t use my wrist as my landing support, huh?”

Bucky nodded apprehensively, watching the way the smiling didn’t quite reach her eyes. But then again, it was nearing midnight and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift. Maybe he was just seeing things.  

“Guess I should count myself lucky you’re so clumsy then,” Bucky said, flashing her a smile.  “Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”  

She bit on her lip in an effort to suppress the grin pushing at her cheeks and the light sparkled in her eyes again. Bucky chuckled under his breath as he started to unwrap the bandage, exceedingly cautious to touch her skin with only the gentlest of pressure. 

She hissed as he pulled the bandage from her arm and the cool air brushed over the skin. Bucky narrowed his eyes, studying the swelling, though he was surprised to see some green and yellow marks, bruises about a few days old, wrapping around her wrist. They looked almost like stripes.  

“When did you start to notice the bruising?” Bucky asked curiously, lifting her arm slightly to examine the other side.  

“Oh, that’s been there for a while,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.  

“You know,” Bucky started, thinking aloud as he took a closer look, “it almost looks like...”  

Fingers? A hand print?  

Bucky stopped himself before he could ask. He was sure he must be seeing things. He really needed to get some rest after this shift. Bucky sighed, gesturing for the nurse who walked by to bring him a few of the breakable cooling packs they reserved for favorite patients.  

“Think I’ll be okay, doc?” she asked light-heartedly, retracting her wrist from his touch when he had stilled his movements and he was simply holding her hand. He swallowed nervously, not even realizing he had been doing that.  

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding quickly to distract from the warmth in his cheeks. The nurse set the cooling packs on the edge of the bed and Bucky thanked her quickly. He picked one up and slid the rest into Y/n’s bag before she could do it herself.  

“Use one of these once a day. You just break the bag at the center, like a glow stick, alright?” He snapped the bag, demonstrating how to activate it, and handed it to Y/n. She smiled in appreciation and let it set over her wrist.  

"Let your wrist rest without the bandage at night if you can,” Bucky added. “I think you’ll be just fine, Y/n.”

“Thanks, Bucky. You’re a real savior,” she said as her left hand reached out for his and squeezed it firmly. 

His eyes were drawn down immediately, staring at her hand upon his, the flicker of her diamond ring barely catching his attention from the way her fingers curled under his palm and her thumb brushed against the back of his hand soothingly. Her hand was so small compared to his, barely covered over his at all, but he could feel the warmth of it, the softness of her touch.  

When she pulled her hand back again, Bucky missed it instantly.  

“Take care, Y/n,” Bucky said, brushing aside the feeling swelling in his chest as he helped her to her feet. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to see me for a while this time,” Y/n offered, glancing up at him in a way that made his stomach a little weak. There was something unreadable behind her eyes, something that looked a little like longing, though he was certain he was just seeing things.  

She was married, after all.  

Bucky watched, again, as she made her way to the exit, sliding out of the way of the incoming swarm of interns barreling their way through the ED. She made herself small as she squeezed by a few family members of the patient in bed eighteen, too polite to even ask them to step aside. Then, she paused at the door, her shoulders rising with a deep, heavy breath, before she took a step forward and out into the night.  

Bucky turned to head back to the nurses’ station when he found Sam standing behind him, shaking his head as hands planted on his hips.  

“Man, you’ve got it bad."

“Shut up, Sam.”

***

It wasn’t the last time Bucky found Y/n in his ED. Over the next few months she’d come in for various injuries, requesting to see him specifically, and miraculously only needing to come in during the overnight shifts Bucky usually worked. It would be a twist in her ankle, or a soreness in her ribs, or sometimes an ache at her knee. She came in enough that the nurses began to dub her as a frequent flyer, though Bucky put a stop to that rather quickly.  

She’d stay a little longer than necessary and Bucky would find himself moving a little slower when he examined her, just hoping to savor a bit of their time together.  

He’d learned that she used to work as an editor at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the city until she stepped down once she got married, though she didn’t say why. He learned that she liked going to the zoo and just sitting by the red panda exhibit, waiting for them to come out from their hiding places or just to watch them sleep. He learned that her family lived out of state and she hadn’t seen them in a while, though she missed them terribly. He learned that she cared more about the lyrics in a song than the melody and would rather go to a dive bar with a band than a busy club on Saturday nights.  

The more he learned about Y/n, the more he wanted to know. He could spend every minute just asking her questions, though he obliged her when he found that she seemed to want to know just as much about him.  

So, he’d tell her about Steve; reluctantly, about Sam, too. He’d tell her about his years in medical school and the complete lack of a social life he had, though she didn’t seem to buy that for a second. He’d tell her about the tour he spent in Afghanistan as a field medic and how he nearly lost his left arm in an explosion. He’d tell her about how he liked to go to the batting cage on weekends and about the best ice cream shop in the whole city. He’d even tell her about his fascination with Stark Industries and she’d let him rant for a solid ten minutes on their new project that was set to redesign emergency medicine in the field for decades.  

Every moment he spent with her left his heart swelling and it didn’t matter to him when she twisted and pulled at the ring on her finger absentmindedly as they talked. He was just happy to be around her, even if this was all it was going to be. A few stolen moments amongst a crowded emergency department, finding that when he looked at her, she was the only one in the room.  

It had been nearly a month since he’d seen her last and part of him was thankful she was able to keep herself unharmed and managed not to trip over something else for a while, but he missed her like crazy. He’d find himself looking towards the entrance of the department every so often, a dozen times a shift, searching for her amongst the crowd.  

Though, he knew it was unlikely he’d find her today. He agreed to do a double shift for Steve when Nat called out sick, so here he was, attending to patients with the sun shining outside for a change. Y/n only seemed to come in at night so at least now he’d be able to focus on something other than missing her voice or the sweet way she’d smile at him or the flicker of light in her eye when she --  

“Dr. Barnes?” a voice called, rough around the edges from years of smoking.  

Bucky blinked, pulling his attention back to the middle-aged man sitting in bed eleven. The man coughed again; an awful sound that probably ruptured something deep in his lungs. Bucky sighed, fiddling with the chart in his hands.

“You need to lay off the cigarettes,” he said simply, focus regaining on his task at hand. “You’ve got tar build up in your lungs and it’ll only...” his voice trailed off as a clanging sound erupted further down the hall, pulling his attention, as a nurse rushed to pick up the supplies that had been knocked over. Bucky shook his head, glancing back at the chart.  

“It’ll only get worse if you keep smoking like this,” he continued, shrugging. “I can prescribe something for smoking cessation, but that’s the best I can...”  

Again, a commotion at the end of the hall. Bucky narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his patient grumbled under his breath, and he tried to get a better look.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I—I didn’t mean to cause such a mess,” a voice stammered out, one so familiar that Bucky quickly handed off the chart to the resident observing over his shoulder without a second thought and headed in the direction of the commotion. 

The patient was calling after him, complaining about his terrible bedside manner as Bucky stalked off but it hardly even registered when he saw Y/n’s cheeks flushing red, stumbling over her words.  

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a moment of relief in his chest short lived by the way he noticed she was holding her hands; out right, like she was carrying an invisible platter, only her palms were red with blood. One of the nurses was gesturing for her to follow him to one of the open beds, pulling her away by a harsh hand on her elbow from the mess of supplies along the floor she had knocked over. His impatience was evident in his shoulders, the way he rolled his eyes at her, and a heat boiled in Bucky’s chest.  

“I can take it from here, Grant,” Bucky called, jogging towards them as he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the counter. He glanced briefly at Y/n, who’s eyes bulged at the sight of him, a near look of panic flashing over her features that Bucky didn’t quite expect.  

“Bucky!” she gaped, swallowing thickly. “I didn't think you'd... Don't you work nights?”

Bucky shrugged, curving his lips into a smile for her the way he usually did. “I agreed to take an extra day shift to help Steve out. Lucky timing, huh?”

Y/n nodded, though she didn’t return his smile. It was unusual for her and it made Bucky raise an eyebrow in concern, though she tore her gaze away from him before he could ask what was wrong. It was then Bucky noticed Grant impatiently tapping his toe, waiting.  

“We’re good here,” Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Thanks.”

Grant rolled his eyes, letting go of Y/n’s elbow, and while her shoulders seemed to relax, her hands were still held stiff, her stare firm to the floor. Timid. Almost fearful. So unlike the light-hearted, quick witted woman he knew. It didn’t sit well with him.  

Bucky swallowed, tugging on the gloves before he reached out towards her absentmindedly and let his hands cup the back of her own, holding them steady in place. He shook his head as he examined her palms, a deep red coating in the insides of her hands, shards of glass embedded in tiny fragments amongst the surface. Stealing a glimpse at her face, he noticed the faint reflection of tracks down her cheeks, like she had been crying. His stomach twisted into knots at the mere thought of it.  

He glanced back at the line of occupied beds before he caught sight of the open door at the end of the hallway.  

“Follow me.”

He led Y/n down the busy hall, past several patients who had been waiting hours before her and the dirty looks that followed, before he gestured for her to step inside of the exam room. He flicked on the light switch as she stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him. She had already taken a seat on the cot when he grabbed a chair and slid it up beside her.  

He gestured for her hands again and she gave them over hesitantly. Bucky glanced up at her, noticing the way she avoided his gaze, shielded under his stare for the first time since he’d met her. As he held her hands in his own, he let his thumb brush comfortingly along her knuckles, trying to ease her discomfort as he took a better look at the glass puncturing her skin.  

“I’m gonna have to pull the shards out with tweezers,” he said after some time, unable to come up with an alternative plan that would spare her more pain. She nodded, still yet to meet his eye. Bucky grabbed the kit from the drawer and pulled a pair of tweezers out. “This’ll probably hurt a bit. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

As he moved the metal rods to grip the first piece of glass, starting with the smallest fragments first to avoid additional blood covering his view, and tugged it out of her hand with a sharp movement. She let out a yelp in response, unprepared.  

“Sorry,” she gritted through her teeth, a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.  

“No need to apologize, Y/n,” he replied sincerely and she seemed to relax a bit at that. “I’ll work fast, alright? It’ll be over in no time.”

She nodded in agreement and Bucky could feel her eyes on him as he worked. Each shard he pulled from her hands elicited a muffled whimper she’d try to hide from him. She’d bit down on her lip, tuck her face against her shoulder to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but he noticed. He cursed his own hands for bringing her this pain.  

Hoping he could distract her as he moved to pull out the larger pieces in her hands, he let his mind wander to the question that had been swarming in the back of his head.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked carefully, keeping his eyes trained on her hands as he plucked out a rather large shard embedded into the lifeline in her palm. She winced as the glass clanged into the metal cup next to him. A few more pieces and he’d be done.  

Her silence didn’t slip past him as he continued to work, though he didn’t push her just yet. He was already causing her pain by tugging at her broken skin, there was no need to add to that. When he finally got to the last piece in her left hand, Bucky pulled it out quickly and let the tweezers fall into the cup amongst the glass shards. The two of them exhaled in relief.  

As Bucky reached for the disinfectant wipes and the gauze he would need to wrap her palms, he warned her that it would sting. He pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth to her right palm and she bit back a whimper, one that made Bucky’s stomach churn. He muttered an apology under his breath as he wiped away the excess blood and wrapped her hand in the soft material. Then, he moved to the other to repeat the process again.  

Once her hands were wrapped and Bucky peeled away the latex gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin by the door, she cleared her throat.  

“I, uh, dropped a pair of wine glasses,” she mumbled and first the first time that day she met Bucky’s eye. There was something clouding the light in her eyes that Bucky found himself so drawn to every time he was able to steal a few moments with her. She didn’t carry her usual carefree charm or the sweet smile that made Bucky’s knees weak or the laugh he could have listened to for hours on end. Something was off, but he couldn’t make sense of it.  

“It was so stupid,” she continued, shaking her head. “The wine spilled everywhere, all over the white tiles and Brock—Brock was so mad, he nearly--” she paused, biting on her lip hard enough to stop the words from spilling out.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, an ache in his chest hearing her husband’s name for the first time. The way she said it, her voice practically shaking, Bucky found himself desperate for her to finish that sentence, though he couldn’t find the strength to ask her to do so.  

Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve just lost my balance or something while I was trying to clean it up and caught myself on my hands, right in the glass all over the floor. It was my fault. I can be so clumsy.”

Bucky nodded, though there was a part of him, bigger than he wanted to admit, that didn’t believe her. The way she spoke, it was almost void of emotion, like she had said those words too many times for it to be real, like it had been taught and rehearsed in front of a mirror.  

“You’re always so kind to me Bucky,” she said in a whisper, a lingering of remorse in her words that took him off guard. “I take up so much of your time here. I’m sure you have better things to do than pull glass from my hands. I bet even one of your interns could have done it.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Bucky teased, hoping to ease the obvious ache in her voice. He offered her an encouraging smile as he glanced down, realizing he was still holding her hands in his, though she made no movement to pull away. “I... I like when you take up my time.”

Bucky sighed, staring at her hands in his own, running careful fingers over the soft exposed skin, trying to gather some courage.  

“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I...” Bucky licked his lips, a nervous shake of his head, and he let the words he had been holding back since he met her tumble out. “I miss you when you’re not here. I don't ever want to see you hurt but... when you walk through the door, it’s the best part of my day. Everything is just better when you’re around. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way... about anyone.”

Bucky glanced back up at her to find her lips parted in shock and a longing behind her eyes that made his stomach weak.  

“I... I don’t deserve that, Bucky.”

Her gaze fell down to his lips and Bucky swallowed.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he replied and it was the easiest thing he ever said. Her breath hitched at his words.  

“Bucky, I--” she exhaled and he could feel it against his cheek. When he had moved this close to her? At what point did he start leaning in? When did she meet him halfway?  

His hand had found its way up to her neck, gently running his thumb over her jawline until she met his eye, speckles of light returning between the colors in her iris the longer he held her like this. They were so close, unbearably so, that he noticed the undertones in her iris for the first time and the faint markings of a scar along her forehead. He could stare at her for hours and find new features to appreciate, to want to kiss and hold and love.  

He’d never fallen for anyone so fast before and despite the laundry list of questionable ethics, he couldn’t help but want every part of her; her mind, her soul, her body, the sweet curve of her lips, and the sound of her laugh that had marked its home in his chest, the crinkles by her eyes and the curious way she enjoyed observing busy rooms. He wanted it all.  

Bucky held himself against her, nose brushing over her cheek bone until his lips sat only a breath from hers. He could feel the uneven exhale of her breathing, shaking in the same anticipation he felt deep in his chest. Eyes glanced up to his, nervous, longing, and he ached for her in a way he didn’t know was possible. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned forward, his lips tingling at the thought of her, though he stilled his movements instantly when he glanced down and noticed a dark purple mark peeking out from under her shirt.  

Bucky pulled back, eyes narrowing on the colored patch on the left side of her chest, hidden under her collar, only a sliver of what appeared to be a much larger pattern.  

“Bucky?” she questioned cautiously, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mark. It wasn’t until she followed his line of sight that she realized the sleeve of her shirt had slipped a bit and exposed the secret lying underneath. She quickly adjusted her top covering up the bruise again, but the damage had been done. He had seen.  

Bucky felt sick suddenly. Nausea creeping up in his stomach for the months that had gone by and he so foolishly missed the signs, too caught up in wanting to see her, in being thankful he could spend another few minutes just talking with her, that he didn’t stop to think about why she was coming in to the ED so often for an otherwise completely healthy woman. The way she referenced her husband, in the rare moments she did, was filled with a kind of hesitation, intimidation, she shouldn’t have carried for a man she loved. He hadn’t realized until now that he’d never even known her husband’s name until a few moments ago.  

He couldn’t wrap his head around it; how it was possible that a woman who was so filled with wonder and joy and kindness when Bucky first met her that he was instantly captivated by her, could be the target of a vile man with no other outlet for her anger.  

Bucky let his hand fall from her neck and he pulled it into his lap. It clenched into a fist that punctured his nails into his palm, but he was careful to hide it. He let out a heavy exhale, though that did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.  

“How long has your husband been hurting you?”

She sucked in a gasp, her entire body growing stiff. “I don’t-- W-Why would you ask that?”

“You don’t have to lie for him, doll,” Bucky implored softly, his hand sitting upon her thigh, thumb circling in soothing motions. Her gaze fell down to the movement of his hand, watching the tenderness in which he touched her, cared for her. It was unlike anything she was used to, and for the first time, Bucky knew why.  

“Please, let me help you,” Bucky pressed. “You don’t have to go back to him. I won’t let him lay a hand on you again. I can—I can help you, doll.”

“Bucky,” she exhaled, his name a plea in her voice. “Leave this alone, please.”

“I can’t do that, Y/n. Not when I know he’s hurting you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped suddenly, words harsh in her voice though her eyes were wide and fearful. It was too rehearsed, almost conditioned, the way she made her voice stronger, edgier, than she felt. She couldn’t force her eyes to be as hard as her voice or the movement of her hand as she batted his away. She couldn’t lie to him through the shades of her iris he had grown to care for so much.

“Doll, I’m beggin’ you. You gotta let me--”

Y/n jumped off the bed suddenly, shoving Bucky aside to grab her bag from the counter. Her hands were shaking as she did so, wincing as she put too much pressure to her wrapped palms. Bucky stood cautiously, trying to make his stature a little smaller, less intimidating, as he approached her. He reached a hand out to her shoulder.  

“Y/n, please--”

“Drop it, Bucky. There’s nothing you can do,” she urged, a panic replacing the faux constructed offense and Bucky saw a glimpse of fear in her features that nearly made his legs give out. 

Before he could have a chance to beg her to stay again, she pushed open the door and disappeared out into the crowd. He stared at the door as it closed behind her, frozen in a state of shock and panic for this woman who was so intent to go back to the man who kept sending her here.  

Bucky snapped himself back to reality and chased out after her, calling her name as she pushed past the crowd of interns, bumping into their shoulders in haste. She didn’t hold up. Light blue scrubs dove out of his way when they saw Bucky running in their direction.  

“Y/n, wait!”  

He was stuck behind a gurney that had been wheeled out into the hall and she was suddenly down by the double doors. She glanced back at him, an unreadable expression on her face as she turned and pushed her way outside.

His heart in his throat, Bucky desperately tried to swing around the sides of the bed before he just lunged over the top, much to the annoyance of the nurses, and practically sprinted down the hall. An administrator carrying a dozen files in his hand nearly had to jump out of Bucky’s way as he ran past, clinging tightly to the stack of papers.  

Panic surged in his veins when he couldn’t find her down by the doors. He slammed his shoulder into the release and stumbled out into the busy street. Ambulances lined up at the drop off point, pedestrians walking by, family members of patients sitting on the bench, and the man Bucky had been attending to earlier smoking off in the corner, still wearing his hospital gown.  

But not Y/n.  

Bucky raked his hands through his hair, eyes darting down the street in both directions. She was nowhere. She was gone.  

“Shit!”

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve grumbled behind him, having followed him outside upon noticing the commotion. “You’re scaring the patients.”

“I need Y/n’s records,” Bucky said, shoving past Steve and ignoring his question. He could sense Steve on his heels as he raced back to the nurses’ station and rapidly began typing in the computer. It took some digging, her records not being readily available in the system, but he found them.

“Fuck.” He slumped back into the chair, his hand darting to brush over his parted lips.

Prior to her first visit to Bucky several months ago, she had shown up in various EDs in Seattle, one every few months for at least a year, and then to Washington, D.C, for the last two years where she’d been treated for broken bones, a fractured rib, and internal bruising.  

She’d also been in New York for longer than she let on, using Urgent Cares and EDs from outside the hospital’s network before she met him. For some reason, when she met Bucky, she stopped her pattern of using different emergency rooms. It was the first time she went to the same place consistently for more than two visits.  

She broke her pattern for him.  

“You want to tell me what's going on?” Steve raised an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on his hip, though his features began to soften when he noticed the wave of desolation in Bucky’s face.  

“I fucked up, Steve. I really fucked up.”

***

“I can’t tell whether or not it’s worse that she hasn’t come back yet,” Sam said as he jumped up to sit on the countertop of the nurses’ station. It was nearing two in the morning and he broke open his second bag of chips. It was a slow night and those didn’t sit well with Bucky. It gave him too much time to think.

“I should have fucking seen the signs,” Bucky grumbled to himself, words that he’s repeated consistently since he saw Y/n last. It had been nearly three weeks since she ran out of the ED on him. Three weeks of constant anxiety, of looking over his shoulder to the door, of expecting the absolute worst. “How many months was she coming in here with those injuries? Why the hell didn’t I realize it sooner? Am I just that fucking naïve?”

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve said calmly. “None of us saw it either.”

“I just wish she had a phone number or an address listed in the chart so I could at least make sure she’s okay,” Bucky conceded for the moment, though he knew the voice in that back of his head would return soon enough to remind him of his failure. “It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I keep checking the papers thinking I might find her name in there one day, that her asshole husband will have taken it too far and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

“We’re not mandated reporters in New York state, Buck,” Steve reminded his friend. “We’ve been over this. You can only break HIPPA to report abuse of vulnerable populations; children, the elderly, mentally disabled. Y/n doesn’t fall in those categories so--”

“Am I just supposed to sit here with this knowledge that her husband is the reason she’s been in and out of this ED for the last six months, then?” Bucky grunted, raking his hands through his hair hard enough to tug out a few strands.

“If she’s not willing to press charges, there’s nothing the police can do,” Sam added, his voice a little softer than usual, more careful. “You have the evidence she’ll need if she ever does. You can even testify for her if it comes to that. But until then, you gotta sit still. Unfortunately, with shit like this, she’ll be back eventually.”

***

Another week passed by and still nothing. Bucky threw himself into every shift he could possibly pick up on the off chance Y/n might come back to the ED. He couldn’t risk not being here if she did. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he spent more nights sleeping in on call rooms than his own apartment. Steve was nearing kicking him out of the hospital for a week straight when Bucky finally agreed to take a day off. He slept nearly sixteen hours that night.  

“Dr. Barnes?” Wanda called from across the hall. She handed him the chart of a twelve year old girl with what appeared to be a case of the flu judging by the redness in her nose, the cold sweats, and a general green color in her skin.  

Bucky pushed out a smile that didn’t come as easily these days and knelt by the bed. “Hey kiddo, how you feeling?”

“Not good,” the girl murmured, clenching at her mother’s hand.  

“We’ll get that sorted out for you, okay?” Bucky pulled out his stethoscope and pressed the cool end to the girl’s back, asking she take in a deep breath. Then, he took her temperature just to confirm his suspicions, and when it read 101.3, he grimaced towards the girl's mom. “I’m going to go ahead and prescribe an antiviral and hopefully we can get this flu under control.” He turned back to the girl. “That sound good to you, princess?”

The girl nodded sheepishly and curled into her mother’s side.  

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes,” the mom said, offering a smile in Bucky’s direction as she moved to pull her daughter into her arms. He nodded, and turned to hand the chart over to the nurse to assist with discharge when he found Sam waiting behind him. He wore a nervous kind of look on his face that made Bucky narrow his eyes suspiciously. 

“What’s your deal?”

“I need you to come with me,” Sam replied, his voice short though there was a lingering concern in his words that Bucky wasn’t quite used to. Having spent so much time ridiculing and teasing one another despite the fact that they were actually friends, he knew enough to drop his guard when Sam came to him in this voice.  

Bucky nodded, following Sam down the hall to the exam room with the closed door. Sam put his hand on the knob, but he paused before turning it.  

“I need you to take a breath,” Sam instructed and Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You need to be in control when you walk in this room.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky groaned, his patience growing thin.  

“It’s Y/n,” Sam said and it was enough for all of Bucky’s defenses to fall. “It’s... it’s not great, man. But this is what I was talking about. She’s back and she needs you right now. Okay? So, take a breath. Please.”

Bucky nodded quickly, sucking in a deep breath to his lungs though it came in shaky. He wondered when these feelings had developed strong enough to make him this terrified to see you again; to have to wonder what Sam meant by ��not great’ and sit with that mental image for a moment too long before the door finally opened for him.  

Sam stood outside, closing the door behind Bucky as he entered. It was dark inside the exam room, the shades drawn and only the lamp by the desk illuminating the space. Y/n stood just a few feet from him, her back to him as she held her arms wrapped around her waist.  

“Y/n?” Bucky called cautiously, though she didn’t move to face him. He took a step closer.

“Wait,” she blurted out. He watched as her breaths came in heavy waves through her shoulders. “Just... please don’t be angry with me.”

Bucky’s heart fell, his chest aching painfully at the very thought. “I could never.”

With a heavy sigh, a brief nod to herself, Y/n began to turn around. She kept her head down, hair shielding over her face, and there was a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped at her forearms crossed over her waist. Bucky took a careful step forward, so that he was standing close enough to see the hairs standing up on her arms and the hear the rustled intakes of her breaths.  

“It’s okay, Y/n,” he encouraged softly, trying to keep himself calm despite the anxiety rushing through him. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly and slowly allowed herself to lift her head, her hair falling away from her face and Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he drew blood. 

A dark purple bruise marked over her cheek bone, extending in angry red vein-like lines down the sides of her face from the swelling. Her lip was busted open down the center, dried blood caked in the cracks. But worse than that, her eyes were red, filled with tears that sent a painful stab straight to Bucky’s chest.  

Bucky reached out, so tenderly, so slowly, that it felt like a century before his hand grazed against the side of her face. She closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into him as he looked over the bruising, searching for further injury. His thumb traced over her jawline, his hand setting against her collarbone, as he hoped to sooth her while he examined the wounds.  

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled his hand back. The subtle gasp she let slip didn’t pass his notice and he wondered if he should reach out again. He parted his lips to tell her that nothing appeared to be broken, that the swelling and bruising made it look worse than it was, but the words fell heavy on his tongue. Nothing he could say could make this any easier. It didn’t matter if it would heal on its own in a matter of a month or two, because the damage had come from someone she was supposed to trust, supposed to love. There was no repairing that. Even if it had been happening for years. It wasn’t any easier.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she whimpered as the tears began to well over her lashing as cascaded against her checks. Bucky shook his head rapidly, not wanting for her to apologize for a single thing, but she continued before he had a chance to interject. “B-Brock... he knows. He knows I’ve b-been coming here. I’m n-never supposed to go to the same place more than twice but I... I was selfish and- and I wanted to see you again. I c-couldn't stop wanting to see you.”

A sob racked through her and the sound nearly broke Bucky straight in half. On pure instinct he reached out and gathered Y/n in his arms, surprised to find that she came against him willingly, her hands gripping tightly at his scrubs, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he ran his fingers down her back in long sweeping motions.  

“I’m right here. You’re okay, doll,” Bucky cooed, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands spread against his back, bunching into the fabric of his dark blue scrub shirt and Bucky realized she was trying to ground herself. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head without thinking much of it and his breathe hitched when he realized what he had done. Though it seemed, at the gesture, her whole body seemed to relax, muscles losing their tension and her grip on his shirt becoming less tight.  

After some time passed and Y/n’s cries had fallen silent, her breathing coming in at a normal rate, Bucky spoke up.  

“Does he have consent for your records?”

Y/n didn’t pull away from him, mumbling against his chest, “he made me sign for it.”

“Okay,” Bucky exhaled, a slight relief at the plan formulating in his head. “We need to go in and revoke that as soon as possible. I’ll make sure everyone in this hospital knows not to give your information to him if he shows up. If we revoke consent, no one can even tell him if you’re here if he asks. Okay?”

Bucky started to pull away, just to help lead her to the door so he could get access to a computer, but she clenched her grip on him reflexively.  

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing in soft circles on her back. “I won’t leave your side. Think you can come to the hallway with me? I’ll take you behind the nurses’ station so you’re out of the way of the patients. That alright?”

“Y-yeah,” she conceded, nodding to herself. She let her arms fall from his waist and brushed at the dried tear tracks reflecting on her cheeks. She winced when she grazed over the bruise mark too hard. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, doll,” Bucky said encouragingly in light of the heat boiling in his chest, wondering how long it took her husband to condition her to apologize so often. He could barely stand to think about how this woman who stole his breath away from the moment he met her, who was a filled with such light, could be extinguished by a man who was supposed to love her.  

Bucky extended his hand to her, part of him wanting to make sure she had a way to ground herself outside of the room and a more selfish side of him just wanting to hold onto her a little longer. She stared at his hand for a moment, a look of relief on her face, as she took it carefully in her own.  

“If it gets to be too much, you just let me know, alright?”  

Y/n nodded, pushing out a smile that fell quickly from the pain in her broken lip. Bucky sighed, restraining the part of himself that urged to bring their intertwined hands to his lips and kiss at her knuckles. Instead, he pushed open the door, florescent lighting blinding for a moment as the chaos of the ED came back into view.  

He felt a squeeze in his hand as he stepped out into the hallway and Y/n followed closely behind. Her other hand snaked its way across her and hooked onto Bucky’s forearm. She glanced up at him nervously, almost as if she was silently asking it this was okay, and he smiled encouragingly at her, nodding. She exhaled in relief as he helped weave her through the crowd.  

Sam noticed them coming in the direction of the nurses’ station first. He raised an eyebrow and set down the chart he had been reading.  

“Everything okay?” he asked as Bucky led Y/n around the back entrance and helped her settle into the chair Nurse Hill usually occupied.  

“Revoking consent,” Bucky said as Y/n released his hand reluctantly so he could type his password into the computer. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s been telling staff not to give out any info on Y/n since she got here. The ED’s on lockdown from that asshole as far as we’re concerned,” Sam replied, throwing a half-etched smile in Y/n’s direction. She struggled to lift the corners of her lips but he could tell she was appreciative nonetheless.  

Bucky finished clicking a few boxes on the computer and he passed over a touch screen to Y/n. “Just need your signature, doll, and we’re done.”

She took the pen from his hand and quickly scribbled her name onto the pad. He noticed the hyphenated end of her name, his name, was illegible compared to the rest. She pressed her lips into a thin line when she was done and handed the pen back to Bucky. His fingers grazed over hers a moment longer than necessary.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Sam asked, breaking through the tension that kept Bucky’s eyes drawn into Y/n’s.  

Y/n shook her head. “No, I, uh... I don’t have friends around here and I haven’t spoken to my family in years.”

Sam sent a nervous look in Bucky’s direction, unsure of what to do next. This wasn’t typically his wheelhouse. First instinct was to call in social services, but he knew Bucky would want to be at the forefront of this.  

“We’ll figure something out,” Bucky said reassuringly. “You can stay here with us until my shift’s up and we’ll go from there, alright? If that’s what you want...”

Y/n nodded quickly, a solace relaxing the apprehension in her muscles.  

“Okay,” Bucky said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Things were coming together. This mess had a few strings that could be tied to knots. There was a plan, at least, and she wanted him to be next to her through it. It was all that mattered right now.  

Despite the break in her lips, Y/n started to smile back at him, a flicker of light returning to her eye that Bucky adored so much. Though it fell away instantly when a voice rang out through the ED and a surge of panic coursed over her features.  

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE?”  

Bucky’s eyes darted over to the entrance of the ED where a man, over six feet in height and a growl tearing through him like a rapid dog, shoved aside two nurses attempting to calm him down. One glance back at Y/n, who had sunk so far down into her chair in an effort to hide herself behind the barrier, and Bucky knew instantly that this man was her husband.  

Brock Rumlow.  

“You have no goddamn right!” Rumlow bellowed, his voice echoing down the halls and drawing the attention of at least a dozen patients and staff. “I know she’s fucking here! Tell me where she is!”

A rage boiled deep in Bucky’s chest when he noticed the red marks on Rumlow’s right hand; marks he had obtained from the abuse he doled out to the woman he was supposed to love. Bucky's breaths were coming in too fast, his hands clenching into fists so tight it punctured his palm with his nails. Before he could take a moment to think, he shoved his way out to the hall and away from the nurses’ station, stalking in Rumlow’s direction.  

“I’m going to need you to calm down,” Bucky seethed, clenching his teeth in an effort to control his voice, though it didn’t do much good. Rumlow paused, shaking off one of the nurses as he straightened his back, sizing Bucky up.  

“Tell me where my wife is and we’ll be on our way,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes glancing down the series of cots.  

“We cannot confirm or deny if your wife is here, sir.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, face boiling red.  

“You’re scaring our patients,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Calm down, or leave.”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow grunted and he attempted to push past Bucky, though he was met with a hard shove.  

“Don’t make me call for security to escort you out.”  

“Security?” Rumlow scoffed. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but--” His eyes widened, locking in on something over Bucky’s shoulder. “Y/n! There you are baby!”

Bucky’s stomach dropped as Rumlow caught sight of Sam attempting to sneak Y/n back to the closed room at the end of the hall. Sam quickly stepped out in front of her, shielding her from Rumlow’s view as she did her best to hide behind him. A sickening smirk pulled at Rumlow’s mouth and he moved, once again, to push past Bucky but found he was met with a wall of hardened muscle.  

“Don’t even fucking think about going near her,” Bucky growled, putting a hand on Rumlow’s chest and shoving him back a few paces. Bucky stole a quick glance back at Y/n, who had peaked around Sam’s arm, and tried to convey a lifetime of apologies for allowing this man even lay eyes on her again. She didn’t even spare Rumlow a second look, focused solely on Bucky.

Rumlow’s eyes narrowed, gaze darting from Bucky to Y/n, watching the silent conversation held in their stare. He cracked his neck to the side as his upper lip began to twitch.  

“So, you’re the asshole that’s been putting garbage in my wife’s head,” Rumlow taunted, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid dog. “Yeah, that’s right. I know about you. I know you’re trying to steal my wife from me. But newsflash, asshole! She’s mine!”

“She’s not your property, you piece of shit,” Bucky fumed, his cheeks growing hot with the rage coursing in his veins.  

Rumlow let out an animalistic growl and he charged full force in Bucky’s direction, throwing a fist straight at the left side of his face. Bucky dodged it easily, bending down and shoving his shoulder into Rumlow’s gut and sending the both of them spiraling to the ground.  

Chaos erupted as patients began to scream, nurses and interns darted out of their way as Bucky held Rumlow down by his collar and punched him square in the jaw. Blood spat from Rumlow’s mouth and he tried to get a grasp on Bucky before he took another swing, but he wasn’t coordinated enough for that. It seemed he was only able to attack when his victim didn’t fight back.  

Bucky could barely see straight, red clouding in his vision, until he felt strong hands grabbing at his shoulders and yanking him off the ground. Two security guards hulled Rumlow off of the floor and restrained him by the arms as Bucky tried to shake off whoever was lugging him backwards.

“Buck! Stop!” Steve shouted into Bucky’s ear and Bucky stilled immediately.

Steve released his grasp and suddenly Y/n came crashing against him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist as Bucky stumbled back a step at the impact. He froze, caught off guard for a minute, arms stretched out to the side as he looked down to find her shaking, before he let himself hold her.  

“Hey, I’m alright,” Bucky whispered so only she could hear. She squeezed him tighter in response, her face tucking into his neck and he could feel the stain of tears against his skin.  

“I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me, bitch! I’ll kill you!” Rumlow roared, pulling against the security guards holding his arms back. Y/n flinched at his words, unable to even steal a glance in his direction, and Bucky tightened his grip on her, turning their bodies so she wasn’t in Rumlow’s direct line of sight. Bucky ran his hands along Y/n’s back, urging her to walk with him away from the scene.  

As Rumlow continued to shout obscenities, Bucky glanced back over his shoulder to find security handcuffing him and Steve towering over as they restrained him to his knees. Patients and staff members parted alike as Bucky gently pulled Y/n along down the hall towards the exam room. He whispered endless apologies into her hair as he led her to the door. Once they were inside, Y/n let her hands fall away from his waist and they quickly jumped up to grasp the sides of his face.  

“Did he hurt you?” she asked anxiously, eyes darting over his face. Bucky pressed out a sad smile, reaching up to her wrists and pulling her hands away from his cheeks.  

“I’m okay, doll, I promise.”  

She nodded, though he could tell she didn’t quite believe him. She took a few steps away from him, her hands falling from his outstretched grasp and he missed the contact instantly. One arm crossed over her waist and the other pressed up against her lips as she shook her head, like she was trying to contain words from spilling out. Bucky watched silently, unsure of what to say.

“I should never have dragged you into this,” she finally said, a heavy sigh in her words. She turned her back to him. “I don’t know how he even found out about you, that I’ve been coming to see you.”  

“But we never... we didn’t... um,” Bucky stammered awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.  

Y/n turned around slowly, her eyes downcast in shame as she nervously picked at the ends of her shirt. “There are other ways to be unfaithful, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart skipped as she met his eye, that longing he had been seeing hidden behind her iris’s for so long, now so abundantly clear.  

“At first I thought maybe I was just confusing these feelings with the relief of someone, anyone, just being as kind and as gentle as you were to me when we first met,” she started. “I thought maybe I was just misplacing this need I had to be touched with something other than... other than cruel intent onto you because you reminded me what it was like when someone was gentle, when a touch could bring goosebumps instead of bruises.”

Bucky nodded slowly, though he let her speak as he took a seat on the edge of the cot. He could tell it was difficult for her to get this out by the way her hands wrung against one another and the subtle quake in her voice. He tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up in pace the longer she spoke.  

“But then I realized it was you,” she said, a littler strong now, more assured, and Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. She shook her head, almost in disbelief as she walked a pace closer to him until she stood between his legs. “It was your hands I wanted to put me back together, your face I wanted to see when I closed my eyes at night, your voice in the back of my mind. It was you.”

“Y/n...” her name slipped past his lips like a prayer.

“All that and I still ran from you when you tried to help me,” she sighed, chewing on the dried skin on her lip, just next to the split. “I’ve just been so caught up in this lie for Brock all these years that the second you saw through it, I got scared, thought maybe you’d change your mind about me, think I’m weak or... or foolish for staying with him.”

“I don’t think those things,” Bucky interjected quickly and she smiled sweetly at him, the smile that he had fallen so easily for.  

“I know you don’t,” she said, her hand reaching up to brush over his hair and push it behind his ear to get a better view of his face. His skin tingled at the touch. “You reminded me what it was like to feel again, Bucky. I was so numb before I met you.”

Her lips pressed to the center of his forehead and Bucky exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.  

“I don’t know what happens now, but I want you in my life,” she confessed, nervous eyes meeting his and Bucky quickly reached up to the hand cupping the side of his face to hold it in his lap. He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently and pulling a smile from her he adored so much.  

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here,” he affirmed and her smile widened. “We’ll have to get you a new doc, though. I can’t be treating you after this.”

“I can handle that,” she replied quickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek to suppress the smile tugging at her split lip though it didn’t do much use.  

“And your husband?” Bucky asked nervously, a wince pulling at the corners of his face in anticipation of losing her smile again, but it didn’t let up.  

“Let him rot,” she replied confidently. “I’ve got enough evidence against him to put him away for years. Always thought I’d find the courage one day to use it.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile at that, the pride he felt warming his chest. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her hair as he enveloped her into his arms. She sighed against his neck, the warmth of her breath leaving goosebumps in their wake and Bucky sighed contently.  

There were so many unanswered questions, so many next steps, but Bucky couldn’t find the energy to care about a single one of them in this moment with Y/n pulled tight to his chest, the sweet smell of her shampoo flooding his senses. 

She nestled in tighter against him and he wondered if had fallen for the version of Y/n who had been numbed for so many years, how much more he could adore her when she was allowed to express every part of herself unimpeded.  

It didn’t matter there were so many unknowns. There was too much to look forward to.  

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

additional drabble 🌸

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[jjba-hell]

One Clear Moment

Am I a cheese-fucker or am I confused? Is it just a phase? I DON’T KNOW SO DON’T COME FOR ME! 

WARNING! Some HEAVILY suggestive content up ahead- never expanded on or detailed but it is way too obvious to not put the warning out there. Possible disordered eating (mention), mention towards trauma but not expanded on. 

Consider this a ‘post- vento aureo’ timeline where you and Formaggio escape your deaths and decide to elope. Yes, some real fluffy domestic romance shit. 

@lasquadraweek2020, @risottoneroo, @giogio-gucci-gangstar.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I promise I’ll stop annoying ya’ll with the tags when this week is over

1,8 K words and a gender neutral reader- good luck

“You up yet, sugar?” You heard Formaggio whisper in your ear.

You wanted to answer no, just be content to press yourself back into his chest with a sigh. Just so he can hold you a bit longer. But you only grumbled a soft no.

He laughed against the back of your neck, wrapping an arm around you softly and turning you to face him. “Baaaabe-“ he whined softly. “Forget breakfast at home- let’s go out to eat for breakfast.”

You stretched out in his arms, hooking your one leg over his hip. “You said that we’d go out for dinner tonight.”

A rough laugh vibrated in his chest as you turned to face him. “Why not both?”

“Or all day?”

He laughed pulling you in tighter. “Come on, you know I don’t get days off very often. I just want to get out of the house with my love.” He drummed his fingers on your back gently then perked you with a bright smile. “Beach day.”

You raised an eyebrow at him- “You just want me in the least amount of clothes possible.”

“Not my fault your ssooo hot angel face.” His forehead touched against yours, his hand running down your exposed side before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. “Ohhh honey buns.” He groaned against your lips- hand slipping from your hip to your backside.

“Sweetie, be gentle with me.” He nearly pleaded as you rolled him onto his back with you on top, running your hands up his bare chest. A whine came from his lips as you leaned forward, giving him just enough friction as you leaned down to kiss his neck.

“Beach day right?”

You rolled off of him before his hands could find purchase on your body and head straight to the closet for your swimwear.

“Baby!” He called from the bed as you head towards the kitchen to prepare snacks.

“Yeah?” You turned to stand at your bedroom door, leaning against the frame.

“Your teasing is gonna get you in trouble.”

“Ohhh I can’t wait to see where that trouble leads.”

You spun around and continued on your own mission.

You had gone to the trouble to prepare two cold salads, some finger quesadillas (a family favorite of Formaggio’s) and some muffins you had left in the cupboard but the second Formaggio slipped into the kitchen, he simply nodded at the packed bag, nodded and added the bags of cookies and chips and some bottles of water before zipping it up and giving you a kiss. “I’ll get these in the car. Would you bring the towels and sunscreen in your bag?”

“You got the umbrella?”

“Yeah, sugar.”

It was only after he had disappeared into the garage that you felt your heart swell with the cute domesticity- the two of you had been through hell and back against Bucciarati but the day after Formaggio could sneak away out of the explosion that day, he faked his death and soon the two of you eloped and never looked back. You had new names and new lives- you worked as a nurse at a pediatric clinic and he was working as a bar manager at a club nearby. Things were good- so impossibly good you were sure that by some way you had made it to heaven or that it was all just a dream.

You threw on a light shirt and some jean shorts and hopped into the car with your husband.

True to his word you had stopped at a beach front restaurant for a proper breakfast before deciding to rent some surf boards.

You’d been living so close to the beach for so long that surfing had definitely become a nearly mastered feat. With a smile on your face you sat up on your board and waited for your husband to paddle by. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve worked off breakfast?” He laughed.

You gazed up at the sun- it was probably around noon. “I believe you- it’s past noon. Need to reapply some sun screen too.”

You paddled back and tailgated in the trunk of your car- finishing half the water before setting up under the umbrella in the pristine white sand. The people started filling in the open spots on the beaches, the two of you leaning back and watching families and more couples than you could count. Formaggio looked up at you as you leaned over your own legs to get sunscreen over your feet.

“You ever wonder if we made a mistake picking this place?”

“Oh? And what would stop us from relocating?” You moved over to whisper in your ear. “Did you forget we’re not being watched anymore?”

Formaggio laughed, turning his head to steal a kiss on your cheek. “So we’ll talk where to next when we get home.”

You laughed at that. Was this what freedom felt like? At least you could admit that you forgot yourself but it was moments like this- that you could bask in the sunlight without the weight of the gang on your shoulders.

You had just finished the water in your hand when Formaggio leaned forward and kissed your jaw softly. You practically melted into him, leaning in closer, turning your head to kiss him properly.

But after a moment you stopped him and with a smile said. “We’re not going home.”

He gave an audible groan as he laid back into the trunk. “Doll face you can’t kiss me like that and expect me to behave.”

You turned back and hovered your upper body over him, with a pout you ran a hand over his chest. “But you promised.”

Formaggio ran a hand up your arm and sighed. “How am I supposed to say no to you sweet cheeks?”

You shot back up and got going again, making sure to massage the sunscreen into his back properly before you packed away the stuff back into the car and started your hand-in-hand walk along the boardwalk

You had occasionally indulged in some ice cream or a slushy together before heading through the supermarket closer to where you parked. You hopped into the car- exhausted by the day and head home. You had just packed the groceries away when Formaggio came to pick you up over his shoulder.

“Babe!” You laughed as he purposefully took wide steps to make you swing left and right over his shoulder. “Babe what are you doing?”

He gently put you down on the floor of the bathroom with a smile and were greeted with a filled up bubble bath and lit candles.

“I know you’re not really into this stuff but I thought you’d like to properly soak off the day.”

You turned around and kissed him eagerly, unable to stop yourself. “Join me?” You asked as soon as you broke away.

“Ohhh sweetums, I will.” He growled against your lips. “But I wanna get the pasta dough started for tonight first.”

You nodded eagerly and then slowly sunk into the water for a good soak.

Through the wall you heard your him put on the game for tonight- lucky for him it would be over before dinner, you just knew he liked some noise as he was kneading the dough.

You leaned your arms against the cool edge of the bath, wondering how you ended up with an Italian that liked making food from scratch- hard to imagine the bastard that would call and collect pizza and pasta at the restaurant near the squad base now refused to eat out. Sometimes you wondered if it was about his new identity he was so desperately trying to hide or if he genuinely liked making food from scratch.

The ten minutes of kneading passed and to your surprise Formaggio showed up into the bathroom with an anti pasta plate.

“You never stop eating, do you?” You laughed as he placed the platter on the lid of the empty laundry basket.

“I’m a growing boy, amore. I need to take care of myself.”

He poured you a glass of wine and joined you in the bath with a bottle of beer. One thing quite un-Italian of him but it was a little quirk you’d grown to love. “How’s the game going?”

You asked as you leaned out of the bath just enough to smeer two crackers with the sweet chilli cream cheese.

“Huh? How’d you know?”

You gave him his snack and smiled at his innocent surprise. “I’ve been living with you for four years, darling. I know you just want some noise while you’re kneading. Just like I know you hide the chocolate above the fridge so that I can’t reach it.”

He laughed at that, pulling you to face him on his lap. “And I know you sneak a cigarette after a nightmare but hate the smell of it on your hands so you hold the filter with a clothes peg.”

Your arm slid over one of his shoulders wrapping around him to bring him closer. “And I know you wash my smoking sweatshirt I leave outside once a week.”

“And I know you freeze the bread I bring home sometimes because you can’t eat it, which is bullshit by the way. If you wanna work off some extra calories, I’m sure you and I can figure something out.”

That mischievous grin slid over hid face as he brought his face closer to yours, noses touching as he pulled you close.

“Not in the bathtub, sweetie.” You groaned as he kissed up your shoulder to your neck.

He put his beer bottle down in the corner, not minding your warning so you put your wine glass down on the floor outside the bathtub.

“You’ve been denying me all day, baby. Please, honey. I’m so pent up.”

Oh how badly you wanted to give him what he wanted but if there was one thing you loved giving Formaggio, it was delayed gratification. So just as he had gotten handsy with your backside you stood up and stepped out of the bath.

He let out a strangled whine. “Hoonneey! I asked nicely.”

You sat on the edge of the bath with the towel. “Soon, babe. Trust me.” You gave him a kiss to the temple and got back up.

You picked up the plate he had brought- that was only finished halfway- and popped an olive in your mouth as you left.

He had often called you cruel for the way you teased but it had taken you a long time to realize how much he adored it- the suspense and the gratification made for a combo he couldn’t get enough of. You let him do the cooking for the dinner, sitting on the countertop in shorts with a glass of wine. You’d attempted to help him before and although he didn’t chase you out of the kitchen while he was working- but when you took a close enough step to his work, he littered kisses all over your face, stepping you away with a whispered. “No no no, my turn tonight.”

So you perched yourself on the countertop with your second glass of wine- every few minutes he’d come over, run his hands over the top of your thighs and settling himself between them nearing the end of his prep- alternating between gazing up at you with that stupid grin of his and peering around your waist to look at the soccer score on TV.

You sat cross-legged on the couch with your bowl of food and Formaggio next you as you watched the stupid soap story. Initially you two had laughed at the thought of being so domesticated you finished dinner on time for the soul purpose of having time to watch a stupid show on TV but at the same time it was comforting. To be side-by-side with each other when it seemed like you’d never have reached this point.

It was maybe also a distraction, perhaps a reminder to act normal under your new jobs and new names. His past was buried and burned in the street he had nearly died at and yours was buried under the blown up squad base.

Now you were simply a newlywed couple living a quiet life.

You packed in the dishes into the dishwasher and started the machine before cuddling up under Formaggio’s waiting arm until your show came to another boring end.

You lined kisses up his jaw, feeling low over his abdomen with your fingertips.

“Ohhhh sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re teasing.”

You weren’t- he had waited long enough, so you silently felt him up just a bit more to see how well he’d restrain himself. When he let you do as you pleased without so much as making a move or whining you slipped down between his legs....

“I’m not teasing, sweetheart.”

[studyinnursing]

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[rainbow-baby-one]

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) chapter six

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter's world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

The loft was dark, only one solitary light shining from the kitchen as Link let himself into the apartment. He set his keys and the groceries he had bought on the dining table, his feet moving quietly through the large room in search of Jo. When his eyes finally found her, his heart sank with a deep sigh.

Jo was curled up in the king size bed, one hand curled around a ratty grey sweatshirt and the other holding her burgeoning stomach. She had been crying, if the dimmed lights and lack of noise weren't enough of an indicator, the tear tracks and damp pillow below her were. 

“Josie,” Link plopped himself on the edge of the bed next to Jo, one hand coming up to run through her brunette locks. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious.” “They kicked,” the words were barely loud enough for Link to hear, but he knew exactly what was running through Jo’s mind. “They kicked me today and you know who reached over to feel it? Jackson, because he was eating lunch with me. Jackson felt my baby’s first kick.” As the words spilled out of her mouth, tears began pouring from Jo’s eyes again. Link kicked his shoes off quickly, climbing behind Jo on the bed and bringing her into his embrace. Her hands gripped tightly at his shirt, sobs escaping as she buried her face in his chest.

“Why wasn't I enough? What did I do,” Jo cried out, her voice breaking as she asked Link a question he didn’t have an answer to. “Why didn't he love me enough to stay? I need him, I can’t do this without him, Link. I need Alex back. I can’t raise this baby without him.”

+

“So I heard you put Karev on a celibacy vow following your steamy elevator rendezvous.”

Jo looked up from her phone, choking momentarily on her coffee. She gawked at Amelia Shepherd, who was now sitting beside her in the cafeteria. A bright blush spread across Jo’s cheeks as she brought one hand up to try and cover it. Leave it to her big mouthed best friend to tell his wife her dirty secrets. 

“Jeez, Link really doesn’t keep his mouth shut,” Jo groaned, a smile sneaking up on her face. “Yes, I told Alex we can’t have sex again until we… settle into things? I just don’t want that to complicate things. And they’re already pretty complicated as is.”

“Better you than me, I couldn’t imagine doing that,” Amelia settled one hand onto her growing stomach, a laugh escaping her as she looked back to Jo. “I’m working with twice the hormones though, so I think it’s a bit different.”

Amelia and Jo had grown close the past three years, Jo spending a large amount of her pregnancy hanging around Link, Amelia, and Scout as she mourned the end of her marriage and tried to wrap her mind around bringing a child into the world. The older woman had been a great source of comfort for Jo, always knowing exactly what would get through her hormone ridden mind when Link fumbled his words.

“You’re lucky I like you, I wouldn’t tolerate this line of questioning from anyone else you know,” Jo snagged one of Amelia’s garlic fries, turning back to her phone. “Have you and Link come to an agreement on baby names yet?” “No and I’m ready to kill him,” Amelia groaned, smacking Jo’s hand away from her fries. “You don’t even like garlic fries, keep your sticky fingers away from mine.” “Hey you can always do what I did and drive your husband away to his ex wife so you can name your baby by yourself,” Jo grinned at the shocked expression on Amelia’s face. “Oh you should see your face! Priceless!”

Both women began to laugh then, a few heads around the room turning to stare at them in confusion. Amelia tried in vain to cover her laughter, which in turn only made Jo laugh harder. 

“You’re horrible,” Amelia choked out, taking a sip of her water as she lovingly shoved Jo’s shoulder. “In all seriousness, I think Link and I are both coming around on Parker.”

“Awww that’s adorable! See, I knew you guys would agree on something eventually,” Jo’s pager beeped then, prompting her to stand with a groan. “I’ve got a 911, we’ll talk later. Keep my godson safe in there!”

Jo hurried down to the ER, eyes scanning the room looking for Owen. When she finally spotted him she jogged over, entering the room that he and three nurses occupied. 

“Hunt! You paged?” Jo’s eyes flitted down to the little boy on the table in front of Owen. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old, his body bruised and bleeding as he lay unconscious before Jo. His curly black hair was matted with blood, making him look years younger and even more vulnerable than he already was.

“Ethan Walker, 9  years old. He was walking home from West Seattle Middle when he was jumped by three guys. He’s beat up pretty badly,” Owen relayed the info to Jo as he continued to check out the boy. “I paged neuro and peds too, you’re the first one here. Looking like a possible spleen puncture.” Jo lifted the boy’s shirt, heart dropping as she saw the state to his chest. She wouldn’t be able to get a good idea of how extensive the damage was until they got him open, which seemed the only option at this point. Her heart sank, imagining how worried she would be if it was Harper on the table. Now that she was a mother herself, pediatric cases gripped Jo’s heart more than usual. “We need to take him into surgery, I just want to wait for Peds to confirm what I’m seeing here before we go up,” Jo relayed to Owen, one hand coming down to push some stray curls out of the little boy's face. “Poor baby, he didn’t deserve this.”

“Hey what’ve we got,” Alex walked into the room, a deep sigh leaving him as he looked at the state of their patient. “Jesus… Jo, what’re you thinking?” “That we need to move out because he was jumped in our neighborhood,” Jo looked up at Alex, a grim expression on her face. “We also need to get him up to the OR as soon as possible. There’s definitely a spleen puncture and I’m thinking that his lungs were nicked too, his O2 levels aren’t looking great. I won’t know more until we open him up.”

Alex nodded, one hand coming to grip the side of the gurney while the other found the low of Jo’s back. He could feel the tension radiating off of her, she was always upset when kids came in now. Unfortunately that meant that cases they worked together were not happy occasions, something Alex tried to combat by comforting Jo as much as possible. 

“Okay let’s move team,” Owen called out, him and Alex pushing the gurney out into the hallway with Jo trailing behind them. “Jo, I think his parents are here, can you fill them in and meet us in OR 2?”

Alex looked up to the trauma bay where he saw two distraught looking women, both staring helplessly at their patient. Jo nodded quietly, rushing past Owen and Alex to speak with the women. Alex’s heart ached for her, knowing that talking to parents was not something Jo loved. But he pressed on, following Owen towards the elevator and only turning around once when he heard one of the women sobbing loudly.

Today was going to be a long day. 

+

“Hey can you put toaster strudels down on the grocery list?” 

Alex looked up from his place on the floor, staring at Jo with a confused expression. She was seated on the couch, head buried in a magazine about experimental surgeries. He was shocked that she was acting so normal given the events of the day before. 

Yesterday had been brutal for him and Jo, the little boy who had been jumped coding twice in surgery and now laying in a medically induced coma in the PICU. Jo had sobbed into Alex’s arms last night, heart broken that they had to inform his parents that their son might not wake up. 

“You don’t like toaster strudels,” Alex pointed out as he took the wooden block that Harper handed him. “You said cooked fruit freaks you out.”

“They’re for Harper, obviously,” Jo scoffed at Alex, but he gave her a knowing stare which prompted her to roll her eyes. “Fine, they’re for me. Shut up.” 

Alex had learned a lot since returning to Seattle. He had discovered that Harper loved asparagus but hated applesauce, that she stayed with Link and Amelia every other Thursday, and that she couldn’t sleep without her green stuffed monkey Chester. He had also learned that Jo’s tastes had changed drastically, something she blamed on her outrageous pregnancy cravings permanently changing her taste buds. She now enjoyed jalapeños, sauerkraut, and toaster strudels, things she had never taken an interest in before. 

“Wait, didn’t you say you were going on a diet,” Alex watched as Harper began to build her block tower on his stomach, her small hands constantly coming to press down his rising and falling chest. “Harps, I can’t stop breathing, it would upset your mother.” 

“I can start that next week, we need to buy strawberry toaster strudels when we go shopping tomorrow,” Jo grabbed the highlighter tucked behind her ear and circled something on the page in front of her. “I’m thinking chicken alfredo for dinner. Thoughts?”

Both Alex and Harper turned to look at Jo, noses scrunched up in the same fashion. Jo had to hold back a laugh because the two looked absolutely identical. One thing she had loved about having Alex back was that she was able to see the similarities between him and their daughter up close. Before, if Harper would do anything even close to Alex’s mannerisms it would send Jo’s mind into a dark spot. But things were different now, a good different, but nothing like the life Jo had grown used to. 

“Babe, I love you, but your taste buds should not be controlling our dinner choices,” Alex turned to Harper, a grin on his face as he began to tickle her. “Was she starving you the whole time? Force feeding you sauerkraut and chicken alfredo?” Babe, I love you.

He hadn’t said it since they had reunited, but the way Alex had slipped the confession so casually into their conversation made Jo’s heart skip a beat. He loved her. Of course she loved him too, as crazy as it made her feel she didn’t think that she had ever stopped loving him. But hearing him say it out loud confirmed everything she had hoped for the past few weeks.

Jo couldn’t help herself as she set her magazine down and crawled across the carpet to lean over Alex, a grin lighting her face up like the Fourth of July. Harper had grown tired of her father and was now distracted with a coloring book she had found in her toy box,

“You look like a psycho murderer,” Alex chuckled, one hand coming up to caress Jo’s cheek. “Why’re you grinning at me like that? Were you waiting until you lulled me into a false sense of security to murder me?” “I love you too,” Jo whispered, her lips coming down to meet Alex’s. When she pulled back, Alex was staring up at her with a look of adoration. “You said you love me, I love you too.”

“Let’s buy a house,” Alex whispered, his eyes scanning Jo’s face. “Let’s move out of this shitty neighborhood and buy a house with a backyard and a big kitchen.”

“And a few extra bedrooms,” Jo suggested, eyes meeting Alex’s with a sly grin. “You know, just in case?”

“Just in case? You wanna tell me something, Jo,” Alex laughed as he pulled Jo towards him, quickly flipping their positions so she lay sprawled out on the living room rug. “You hiding another baby from me somewhere around here?” A squeal of laughter left Jo, her eyes squeezing shut as Alex let his fingers come up to her sides to tickle her. She was happy, truly happy for the first time in… well a very long time. Her hands came up to grab Alex’s face, eyes meeting his with a sincere look in them.

“You’re staying, right? Not going anywhere again?” “Of course I am, I love you and I’ve already missed out on too much,” Alex grinned, his crooked smile lighting up his face. “I want a great big future with you and Harper and however many more babies you wanna give me.” “Easy for you to say, you didn’t have to go through 31 hours of labor,” Jo rolled her eyes, bringing Alex in for another kiss. “Next time I get to yell at you instead of Meredith. I’m still not sure she’s forgiven me for the names I called her.”

[cerealbath]

Rhett and Link meet when they’re roommates in the hospital!

“The pediatric ward is pretty full today, you’ll be sharing your room with another kid, buddy,” The nice nurse with brown hair patted Link on the shoulder. “Ms. Neal, he’ll just be there until they can bring him back to get his tonsils out, the other patient will be gone when he’s done.”

“That’s fine, thank you. See you soon baby,” Sue smiled, let the nurse lead Link away into the depths of the wing. 

Now Link was about five years old, just about to start Kindergarten in Mrs. Locklear’s class- whoever that was. He was brave, and very good at coloring inside the lines, but he still wished he had his one doll with the green eyes to soothe him. He also wished he could have a room to himself- or at least with his mom. 

“Here you go, love. Sit nicely and another nurse will come take your vitals.” 

And just like that, Link was alone in what wasn’t a room at all- just two sheets hanging with one bed-like table between. All he could think was that he had no idea what vitals were, and no idea who this other kid was.

The other kid looked a bit rough around the edges- too tall for a five year old and too rambunctious in the small space for Link’s liking. The other kid dangled his legs off the side of the table, the end of his feet sporting bright red sneakers. 

“Hiya!” The kid grinned toothily, “I’m Rhett.”

Link frowned, calmly crawling up onto the bed as far away from the kid as he could manage. “I’m Link.”

“You wanna hear something cool?” Rhett grinned deviously, scooting to face Link from a foot away.

“No, I’m scared. I don’t like it here,” Link frowned deeper, his hands idly pulling at the strings of his sweatshirt. Link wanted very much to keep his vitals, thank you, and forking them over to whatever nurse came to take them did not sound like a good time.

“Don’t be ‘fraid, Link. I’m gonna teach you a bad word to distract you.”

Link recoiled, scandalized. “No thank you.”

“It’s hell!” Rhett said anyway, kicking his feet wildly against the bed.

“That’s not a bad word! That’s where you go when you die if you’re bad!” Link tucked his legs up under him and wished the nurse would come sooner. He vaguely registered that as an improvement from being scared out of his pants before talking to Rhett.

“Fine, you know any others, then?” Rhett huffed and crossed his arms.

“No!” Link said too quickly.

“Okay, then I’m gonna go ask a grown up if they can tell us any more. Since hell isn’t one, ‘cording to you,” Rhett shrugged, making a move to slide off the table.

“No! We’ll get in trouble! We’re supposed to stay here!” Link whined, anxious. He reached out to grab Rhett by the sleeve. “I do know one, I’ll tell you, just stay here.” 

Rhett purses his lips, calms down and smiles. “Tell me.”

Link’s eyes flickered around the small area and his palms sweat. He picked at a fraying spot on the table cover and couldn’t look Rhett in the eye as he said “Fart.”

At this Rhett burst into a loud guffaw, doubling over as he cackled. Link couldn’t help but join in, his laugh more of a high pitch squeal as they made a unique and happy ruckus in the usually sober pediatric word.

And when the nurse came to take his vitals, whatever those were, he wasn’t so scared after all. 

[areyounotthrowingawaymysocks]

Playground (Daveed x Emmy/ Anthony x Jasmine)

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Emmy Raver-Lampman and Anthony Ramos x Jasmine Cephas-Jones

Word Count: 2217

Warnings: Bullying, Injury, Hospital, Surgery

Author’s Note: This was originally a short, fluffy fic about the kids playing together at the playground. Then I decided to re-write it while editing today and this was the end result. Whoops!

While Emmy and Jasmine were at work together, both currently working on a new musical, Daveed and Anthony decided to band together to take care of the three kids. Daniele, Callie, and Michael were five now and were all in the same kindergarten class. The two couples tried to get the kids together at least once a week, and they regularly watched each other’s kids so that they could still have date nights and some child-free time. 

On this particular Saturday, Daveed and Anthony decided to take the kids to the local park where they could run around and get some energy out. The park also had a playground where they would be able to play on the jungle gym and swings for a while before heading home for dinner. 

Daveed and Daniele arrived at Anthony and Jasmine’s apartment around two, after a long and messy lunch of mac and cheese and fruit snacks, the only things she would eat when Emmy wasn’t home. Anthony opened the door to reveal Michael running around the apartment in just his underwear while Callie was playing quietly in the corner with her dollhouse. It never ceased to amuse Daveed how different the twins were. He sent Daniele over to play with Callie and then made his way over to Michael and tried to convince him to put on some clothes. After about fifteen minutes, Michael was finally dressed and the group made their way down the street to the park.

As soon as they arrived, all three kids joined a game of tag with a few other kids who were already playing. Daveed and Anthony took a seat on a nearby bench where they could chat while still keeping an eye on the kids to make sure no one got hurt. After about twenty minutes of tag, Daniele and Callie came over to ask if they could go over to the playground now. They called for Michael and made their way over, the girls heading straight for the swings while Michael ran for the sandbox when he saw there was a dump truck that no one was playing with yet. 

After a little while, Daniele and Callie decided to head over to the jungle gym to practice their gymnastics. Their were some older kids hanging out there too, but they stayed on the lower bars like Anthony had told them to so they weren’t worried. Daniele was showing Callie the new flip she had learned in class when one of the bigger kids came over to them.

“Are you babies done yet?” she asked, her hands on her hips, glaring at Dani and Callie. “Why don’t you go play with the baby toys over there?” she pointed at the baby swings across the park.

“M-my Papí says I can p-play here if I w-want!” Callie retorted, her small voice wavering as the older girl stared her down.

“Y-yeah! D-daddy said we could p-play f-flips!” Dani added, moving to stand next to her friend.

“Well, only big kids can play on the bars. Prove that you’re big kids and we’ll let you stay,” another girl added.

“Fine!” Daniele shouted, climbing up the ladder to the higher bars.

“Dani! Papí told us not to go up there!” Callie called after her, looking back towards Anthony and Daveed who were busy talking and didn’t notice the altercation their daughters were in.

“It’s fine, C! We’ve been up here before! C’mon!” Danielle called from the top of the ladder.

Callie hesitantly made her way towards the ladder and began climbing up after giving one more glance towards her father. When she reached the top, she couldn’t help but feel proud of herself for making it up so high. She could see the whole playground from up here. Michael was still in the sandbox, currently dumping sand down another kid’s shirt. She could see Anthony and Daveed, still on the bench, unaware that their daughters had climbed up higher than they were supposed to. But before she could get too comfortable up there, the older girls were back.

“Now you gotta do a flip up here,” the older girl said, demonstrating by flipping herself backwards so she was hanging by her knees, “Your turn,” she said as she flipped back up.

Daniele hesitantly adjusted herself on the bar and then helped Callie adjust herself. They squeezed hands and then let go as they flipped back. Daniele felt her legs slip off of the bar, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, searing pain in her left arm. 

“Dani!” Callie called as soon as she realized what had happened, “Hold on! I’ll be right there to help you!” she yelled to her as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Here, I’ll show you the fastest way to get there,” the older girl said before pushing Callie off the bar, laughing as she fell to the ground next to Daniele and then running off with the rest of the older kids before they could get caught.

Callie hit the wood chips below with a thud. The pain was instant and all she could do was scream. Anthony heard her and he and Daveed went running, shocked to see both of their daughters lying on the ground below the jungle gym. Daveed could tell just by looking that Daniele had broken her left arm, the swelling and bruising already setting in. Callie was in even worse shape. The broken bone in her leg had pierced her skin and she was bleeding. Anthony was using his sweatshirt to stop the bleeding while calling an ambulance. He told Daveed to call the theater and have Emmy and Jasmine meet them at the ER. Michael had noticed the chaos and the crowd that had formed and made his way over. Daveed kept him turned around while simultaneously cradling Daniele so that he wouldn’t see his sister’s injury. After he reached the theater and confirmed that the girls would meet them at the ER, Anthony had him call Stephanie to pick up Michael so he wouldn’t have to be at the hospital with them. He explained to his son that he was going to have a special sleepover with Auntie Steph and that he’d get to watch movies and pick whatever kind of take out he wanted for dinner. 

After what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few minutes, the ambulances arrived to take the girls to the hospital. The EMTs quickly splinted Daniele’s arm to keep it stable on the trip. They took a bit longer with Callie because they had to bandage her wound before they could splint her leg. When they finally arrived at the hospital, they put the girls in a shared room because they had been crying for each other the whole trip. They were both given pain medication so they were super sleepy and a little loopy when Jasmine and Emmy arrived. Both women were in a frantic state, clearly having gotten quickly changed out of costume and jumping into an Uber as soon as they got the call. 

The girls were both taken back for x-rays, Jasmine having to go with Callie who was convinced that she was being taken away from her parents forever. Fortunately, Daniele’s arm was a clean break that would heal with just a cast. She chose purple, to match her new sneakers, and was excited to have all her friends draw on it at school on Monday. Callie, unfortunately, was going to need surgery to realign her bones and place several screws. Anthony and Jasmine were nervous, as was to be expected, but they were grateful to be at a pediatric hospital with a world renowned orthopedic team who they felt would do everything they could to help their daughter heal as quickly as possible. 

Daniele was allowed to go home after her cast was put on, so she said goodbye to Callie and wished her good luck with her surgery. Emmy promised that they would come back to visit the next day once Callie was recovering and that seemed to calm the girls down a bit. The Diggs family made their way home, leaving Callie and her parents to prepare for the long night ahead of them. Despite the heavy pain medications, she was still in a significant amount of pain, which the doctor said was to be expected with her injury. Her surgery had been booked for 7am the following morning, and she would be unable to eat all night, so they tried to come up with some different ways to distract her both from hunger and pain all night. Luckily, the hospital didn’t have a restriction on visiting hours, so Cynthia and Mario came over around 9 with a big bag of supplies they had picked up from the apartment: pillows, blankets, dolls, art supplies, books, stuffed animals, movies, the iPad, and Anthony’s laptop. They also grabbed changes of clothes for all three of them, toiletries, and phone chargers. Stephanie had also stopped by the apartment and grabbed anything she would need to take care of Michael for the few days they were expecting to be in the hospital with Callie and a few days after so she could recover at home in peace. 

Around 2am, Callie was awake and crying from pain, Jasmine doing her best to hold her without hurting her leg while they waited to hear back from the doctor about giving her more pain meds. Jasmine put Lion King on for her, one of her favorite Disney movies, and was singing along to some of the songs, quietly kissing her head, trying to calm her, to no avail. Callie was just whimpering at this point, too tired to fully cry. Anthony excused himself from the room and Jasmine assumed he was going to go beg the nurse to page the doctor again. 

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came in with more pain meds for Callie. Jasmine thanked her and the woman offered her a small supportive smile in return. Jasmine was so grateful that Callie had a nurse who was so attentive to her needs and was helping to make sure she was as comfortable as possible until she had her surgery. With the additional medication, Callie quickly fell asleep. Jasmine noticed that Anthony still hadn’t returned, so she texted him to see if he was okay. When she didn’t get a reply, she decided to go look for him, hoping Callie would stay asleep for a little while.

She found him crying on a bench in the family waiting area. She quietly slipped next to him and wrapped him in a hug, rubbing steady circles on his back to help steady his breathing.

“Bubba, match my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Good job. Keep going,” she coached him, feeling his breathing begin to regulate, the tension being released from his body.

“My fault,” he muttered into her shoulder, his voice wavering from tears.

“What do you mean, Bubba?” she asked, holding him so she could see his face.

“It’s my fault she’s hurt. I shoulda watched her better,” he said, turning away, unable to look her in the eyes.

“Bubba, look at me,” she said, turning his face so she was looking at him, “I know how hard it is to watch both of them at once. Especially somewhere like the playground. She’s gonna be okay. Let’s go back in there with her before she wakes up again looking for us.”

The next morning, Callie was brought down for pre-op around 5:30. By 7, she was pretty doped up from the medicine the anesthesiologist had given her, but she was excited that when she woke up from her “nap” her leg would be fixed and she would have a purple cast to match Dani. When she was wheeled back to the OR, Anthony and Jasmine were led to a waiting room, where both of their mothers were waiting already, along with Cynthia and Mario. They all waited together, taking turns comforting Anthony and Jasmine until a nurse came out to tell them that Callie was out of surgery and should be waking up shortly. She explained that one parent could come sit with her now and that the other could join once she was fully awake. Jasmine followed the nurse back and took a seat next to her sleeping daughter, admiring how peaceful she looked for the first time since they had arrived at the hospital. 

A few hours later, Callie was back up in her hospital room surrounded by her family. Everyone had come upstairs to see her once she was moved back up and they all brought gifts. Jasmine’s mom had gotten her a new Barbie, Anthony’s mom got her a stuffed pig, her current favorite animal. Mario and Cynthia had stopped at the American Girl store and gotten a set of crutches and a cast so her doll could match her. Stephanie brought her a box of her favorite cookies, and Michael had drawn her a picture. She was still a bit drowsy from the anesthesia and sore from surgery, but Callie was grateful to be spending a day surrounded by her family who cared about her so much.

[collecting-stories]

PT 5 | Modern!Ivar

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

There was nothing that could have possibly made this visit worse. Since moving out to go to college Ivar had taken full control of his medical needs. He took himself to his own doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and anything else that he required. It wasn’t something he had really considered important until he moved out and had some level of freedom. Now he couldn’t imagine not being able to navigate his own medical care, though he didn’t have to imagine it for too long. With Aslaug visiting before the holiday he was forced to bring her to the last of his doctor’s appointments before he was able to go home for Christmas.  

“You don’t need to be here,” Ivar stated for the hundredth time as he sat in the exam room waiting for the first of the onslaught to come through the door. Clinic visits were the worst in his opinion, only because it was a barrage of nurses, therapists, doctors, social workers, and nutritionists. All with the best intention and all determined to get Ivar to do things he didn’t want to do. Like join support groups or consider learning more everyday skills like cooking.  

“I haven’t been to a doctor’s appointment with you in almost a year Ivar, indulge me just this once.” Aslaug requested, setting her bag down on the chair beside her and pulling out her notepad and pen. His mother was nothing if not obsessed with taking notes during these appointments, in case she needed to dig up some obscure suggestion from years prior to nag him about. If only he’d learned to peddle that stupid hand bike when he was eleven, then he would be more social surely.  

Before he could argue further with her a knock came at the closed door. It opened a crack and Ivar felt his stomach flip in anxiousness as you appeared in the entryway. “Hey, just thought I’d come in first before the parade begins.” As you walked fully into the exam room you caught sight of Ivar’s mother, sitting there appraising you. “Hi, you must be Mrs. Ragnarsson, I’m Ivar’s physical therapist.”  

“Nice to meet you. I told my husband that everyone just keeps getting younger and younger when I go to the doctor’s.” She noted, jotting down your name in her notepad.

“That’s true,” you brushed off the jab, “I actually shadowed Ivar’s old therapist last year, so we’re a bit familiar with each other.”  

“Oh I so loved her, she was a wonderful lady.”

“She was.” You nodded and turned your attention to your boyfriend, who looked very much like he wanted to sink into the floor. “So, I’m just going to do basic measurements. I’d usually stay longer but I’ve got a few other patients in before the holiday.”

“So no goals to discuss for after break?” Aslaug asked. She watched as you sat down on the stool and rolled it over to her son’s chair.  

“Well I just had Ivar in yesterday for therapy, I can email you my chart if you’d like to see what gameplan we made for the coming year. As Ivar knows I’m stepping into a more pediatric position after the end of next year. I’ll be taking on more cases that focus on younger kids and some of the older patients will be transitioning into the adult hospital.” You replied, trying to focus on your work as you spoke.  

It had been over chinese food, after Ivar told you he loved you and he wanted you to spend the holiday with him that you broke the news about your shift in job positions. It was a blessing really, and though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting used to a new therapist in a years time he knew that you not being his PT anymore meant that you could openly date him. Something you reassured him you had taken into consideration when you accepted the job offer. You also didn’t miss the opportunity to point out that working with kids would mean working with people who were actually nice to you and did what you asked.  

“I always do what you ask.”

“Rarely.” You pointed out, “Almost only on Fridays.”

“Last Wednesday I did that stupid leg exercise and practiced transitioning myself down on the floor and back into my chair.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but you only agreed to the last one to show off.” You retorted.

“Maybe.” Ivar grinned, knowing it was true. He couldn’t deny that knowing you were physically attracted to him was always a massive ego boost and he definitely enjoyed the little grin you always had watching him doing anything physical.  

The exam room door opened to let in both the social worker and the nutritionist, breaking Ivar’s train of thought. You stood up and moved over to the computer, typing some notes into his chart before reading back his measurements to Aslaug so she could track them herself. The nutritionist started in on him immediately, commenting on his weight from the morning.  

Ivar watched you typing as he spoke, annoyed that his mom had insisted on coming with him this morning. You had done measurements yesterday during therapy and he knew you had come in first in hopes of spending a little bit of time with him before the two of you left for the holiday in a couple of days. Now that had been interrupted by his mother and he wouldn’t get any time alone with you aside from the drive to and from his family home. Until then you and he were both busy and once the holiday started it would be a crammed house of relatives for one long and tortuous weekend that Ivar was growing to regret more and more.  

“Well I’m all done, I’ll get out of your hair.” You announced, patting Ivar’s arm as you walked passed him to the door. “It was nice to meet you Mrs. Ragnarsson.”  

“You as well.” Ivar’s mother said, offering you less than a glance as you left the room.  

Ivar slumped a bit in his chair, leaning against the backrest more than he usually would as he listened to his mother discuss diet options that would be healthy while he was living in a dorm. He wouldn’t have minded wheeling out after you and spending the rest of the day anywhere but here. Or better yet if he could rewind to last night when he was over your apartment for dinner and he didn’t have to worry about stupid diets or how far his leg could unbend.  

His phone buzzed in his sweatshirt pocket. A message from you, that one of your patients had canceled and you could leave early if he wanted to do something for dinner. Ivar quickly texted back.  

-What would be for dinner?-

-Greek? Why are you gonna out with your other girlfriend if you don’t like the food?-

-I don’t have another girlfriend-  

-I bet you say that to all your girlfriends-

-😒-

-So I guess you haven’t mentioned the dating to your mom-

-Not yet. I will-

-Before I arrive at her house for Christmas?-

“Ivar are you paying attention?” Aslaug asked, leaning forward to nudge her son’s elbow.  

“There isn’t anything to pay attention to, we’re just sitting here waiting for the doctor to come in.” Ivar replied, “and once he does it’ll be the same thing it always is. He’ll read all the stuff the nurse already asked and noted and then tell me I’m looking good and to keep up the good work and then we’ll leave.”  

“This is very important Ivar. Your health is something you should take seriously.”

“I am.” He argued.

“Not when I’m doing all the talking and you’re texting away on your phone. That might’ve been fine when you were a kid but you’re an adult now Ivar. You need to pay attention and listen and respond.” She commented, leaning back in her chair.  

“Yes mother.” Ivar grumbled, knowing he would get nowhere with her. He sent one last text to you, promising he would talk to his mom. He wanted to but she was already getting on his last nerve with her nitpicking and he couldn’t imagine how she would take the news of him dating. Especially him dating his physical therapist. He could already picture how that conversation would go.  

“When the doctor is in I want to talk to him about you getting involved in more social activities. I worry about you being all alone.” Aslaug mentioned, picking up right where she had left off that morning when she told him that he needed more friends.  

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