#and . no lie . just about every manager and supervisor ive had up until now have been nd

[legendcrab]

my dad, an undiagnosed autistic man: *jokes with me in very clear, overdramatic, very obvious sarcasm or joking tones of voice*

me, an undiagnosed autiatic child: oh yeah im so good at recgonizing jokes and sarcasm its crazy how good i am

me now, an adult, interacting with neurotypical adults for more or less the first time in my life, especially in a business setting: uh oh

[fanroi]

The Interpol, the FBI and a gunshot

So agents, gunshots, Charles being stupid and Erik worrying

Hope you like it! :)

---

The whole world is spinning, there is a vague sense of pain on his left shoulder but it doesn’t somehow feel like it’s his own. Actually it kind of feels like it does when he is in someone mind so Charles tries to reach out with his telepathy, but it is not there. He panics, he gets scared, and he does not know what’s going on.

“Charles, you’re going to be okay, you hear me? Don’t panic, please, you’re just going to hurt yourself more.”

Charles opens his eyes, but everything is out of focus, so he closes them again. He recognizes the voice though so he smiles a little.

“Oh you know me Moira, I’m always A-Okay.” This is all he can say before he passes out again.

---

Charles has been in hospital enough times to know when he is in one, although he has no recollection on how he got there. He peeks under his eyelids and is relieved to find that there are no bright lights in the room. It’s nighttime and Moira is there sleeping in a very uncomfortable looking chair beside his bed.

He lifts his hand to his shoulder, where he can feel some discomfort and when he feels the bandage, he remembers what happened. He got shot. He’s a stupid idiot who is really lucky that he is not hurt even worse. Running into the house without backup could’ve gotten him killed, but he just couldn’t let the suspect to run away again.

He approached the suspect and he is pretty sure that he put him to sleep but the suspect unfortunately fired at the same time and his shoulder was hit. Charles grunts and lets out a sigh. Erik is right about something at least. He is always saying that the protocols that restrict the use of his telepathy on suspects are stupid and…

Erik. Has someone told Erik that he has been shot?

Charles goes on to get up. The machines surrounding him rattle and beep when the accidentally shakes them, waking Moira up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she says and grabs his hand. Moira looks tired and angry, but Charles chooses to ignore her. He tries to turn so that he can swing his legs over the edge of the bed but he notices an IV attached to his hand.

“I need to go, Moira. I need to call Erik. He must be freaking out and---”

“Who the hell is Erik?”

“He is my fianc��! Oh my god, how long have I been here?”

Charles opens looks around to locate his phone and nearly misses the look of surprise on Moira’s face. If he wasn’t so worried about Erik’s mental state he would’ve laughed. Luckily Moira isn’t a one to stay surprised for long.

“Okay, calm down. I will tell an agent to get your phone from your clothes, they are still in evidence and meanwhile you’re going to lie down and tell me all about Erik, okay?”

Charles is a rational person and he knows that it’s his quickest way to contact Erik, so he lies back down. After Moira has sent someone a text she sits back down too and levels a stare on him.

“We’ve been engaged for four months. You’ve met him. He’s from FBI and we met during that one case, the one with the serial killer targeting mutants from two years ago?”

“Wait… Erik Lehnsherr? The grumpy, anti-social bastard, who made you absolutely crazy during that investigation? That Erik?”

Charles finds that he very much enjoys the look of surprise on Moira’s face and chuckles.

“Well, it seems that we were both enjoying each other’s company more than we let on. We, well… I think you don’t want to know all the details,” Charles does not usually blush, but although Moira is more of a friend than a supervisor, he feels like she would not approve or enjoy knowing about of everything they did with Erik during that case and later on.  Moira clears her throat and a sly smile is now appearing on her face.

“So that is why you were so eager to get the transfer to New York? I knew you weren’t telling me everything, because you loved staying in London, but this is definitely not what I imagined. Why didn’t you tell me? And more importantly why isn’t Erik your emergency contact?”

“Well you know… We didn’t really want to broadcast our relationship to the whole Interpol or FBI and… well we just didn’t think to change it at first and then we just forgot.”

Moira nods and then the agent comes in with Charles’ phone and when he sees that he has 34 missed calls from Erik, he quickly picks Erik number and calls him.

“Charles!? Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling and calling and I would’ve tore a second one to everyone in your office if you had fucking told me where it is!”

“Oh, Erik. You have never asked me where my office is. It’s not a secret.” Charles laughs and he is a little bit ashamed to notice that he is tearing up.

“Charles? Are you crying? Are you okay? Where are you!?”

“I’m fine, darling but… I need you not to freak out, I’m in the hospital.”

There is a silence on the other end and Charles grimaces, Erik’s silences are very telling.

“Which hospital?” Erik answers and based by his tone, he is furious.

“The Presbyterian, but Erik, I’m getting out in the morning. You just get some sleep.”

“I will be there in half an hour.” And then the line goes dead.  Charles looks at Moira who gets up from the chair she’s been sitting in and looks at him pointedly.

“You are getting what you deserve. I was going to lecture you, but it seems that it can wait until you come back to the office.”

“Noo… Moira, stay. Erik won’t rip my head off if you’re here.”

Moira leans in and takes Charles’ hand and squeezes it.

“I’m really glad you’re okay Charles.”

Charles smiles and squeezes back.

“Thank you, Moira.”

---

Now that the adrenaline surge from worrying about Erik has passed Charles realizes how tired and sore he is. It was probably very stupid to think that he could’ve gotten up and go home yet. Usually those kinds of antics are Erik’s specialty and Charles chuckles to think about how Erik has rubbed into him during their time together. The doctor comes in and explains what has happened to him and that he has so stay in the hospital overnight but is going to be released in the afternoon if everything is going smoothly.

He fights to keep his eyes open. Erik should be here any minute. Moira said that he gave orders to the hospital that they should let Erik inside even though it’s not visitor hours and knowing Erik, he will find a way inside even though he would be denied of access.  In order to stay awake Charles tries to focus his telepathy enough to catch Erik when he comes inside, but finds that it is too hard to do that with the drugs still in his system and the exhaustion he has.

Charles dozes off but wakes up when the door to his room is almost ripped of its hinges.

“Sir! Do not disturb the patient! You are not allowed to be in here!”

Charles opens his eyes and sees a harried, exhausted looking Erik with wild eyes and some poor nurse trying to block him from entering. He clears his throat.

“Please, let him in. He’s my fiancé. I will throw him out if he’s of nuisance, I promise,” he says and after the nurse shoots a disapproving look on Erik, she leaves and Erik walks to his bed and takes his hand.

“Are you okay? Really okay? What happened?” Erik truly looks terrible and Charles feels bad that it’s him that made Erik to look that way. Charles smiles and lifts Erik’s hand to his lips. Erik drags the chair closer and cradles Charles‘ face with one hand and keeps his other holding Charles’

“I’m okay. Better now that you are here. We were pursuing the suspect and I got shot in the shoulder. But it’s fine, love. I just lost a bit of blood,”

Erik purses his lips together and it’s pretty clear that he does not share Charles’ view of the fineness of the situation.

“There is something you’re not telling me. There is no way that you wouldn’t have called me if everything went like it was supposed to be. How much is a “bit” of blood, Charles?”

Under Erik’s stare, a blush rises to Charles’ cheeks and he knows he is going to get the lecture that Moira so graciously didn’t give him.

“I… I went in there without backup. I was tracking him alone when I found him. But I couldn’t let him go, so I entered the building and… he must’ve had some kind of mutation because he knew I was there and as soon as I entered he shot me. I… managed to take him out with my telepathy but… I was there for a while before anyone found us.”

Erik isn’t big on interrupting but Charles can see, he can feel, that Erik is getting angrier and angrier while his story progresses. There is a long silence and Charles’ actually manages to open his mouth to say a joke to lighten up the situation but Erik lifts his hand up and Charles stays silent.

“So basically, you could’ve bled to death because you didn’t put your safety first? Is that it, Charles? Hmm?”

“Well… yes. But you would’ve done the same! You can’t get angry with me when you would’ve done the same!”

“Yes! But I can make sure that the suspect doesn’t shoot me! And you cannot blame me for getting angry at you when I love you so much that it makes my blood run cold to even think of you entering a building with a serial killer, without backup and…” Erik takes in a shuddering breath and lets it out with a long sigh, “I love you, you stupid idiot. I’m going to get angry every single time something like this happens and I know that you’re going to get angry with me if I someday do something as equally stupid.”

“You mean “when” not “if”?” Charles says but really cannot fight with Erik, and doesn’t want to, now that Erik is here and is still holding his hand gently. They bicker a lot but that is just how they are, and this time Charles actually realizes his own stupidity and is feeling bad that he made Erik worry about him.

“Go to sleep, Charles, you look awful.” Erik chuckles and pets Charles’ hair. Charles smiles and let’s his eyes droop and when he is going under he hears Erik whisper. “I’m glad you’re okay, Schatz,”

---

The next afternoon Charles is back at home and very glad that he is. He doesn’t particularly like hospitals and now that he’s home he can just relax for a while. Moira called him that the serial killer they had been hunting is being transferred to France to await his sentence and that he can take the week off from work. Erik’s boss also called him and told him to stay home and take care of Charles, since he terrorized everyone with any connection to Interpol while he was searching Charles.

They ordered Thai food and are now watching nature documentaries, which Erik finds a little bit dull, but Charles finds that getting shot earns him a few perks and Erik just plays with Charles hair, while Charles just lies in his lap and tells Erik the most intriguing bits of information on any given animal that appears on the screen.

“Maybe for the next time we could go for a holiday somewhere where we could swim with the sharks?” Charles asks and Erik just shakes his head.

“Whatever you say. Maybe I could just watch you walk around in your wetsuit and sip on a great mojito and then get you out of the suit at the end of the day. That would be enough for me,”

“Well. I don’t think that wetsuits are not really that sexy. Maybe you can convince me otherwise when you put on one too. I think you would actually look quite dashing in one.” Charles says and wiggles his eyebrows at Erik making him laugh.

“I know that you look sexy in one, Charles. That was the moment I really fell in love with your body. The first time I saw that I saw that photograph of you trying to surf in your Facebook”

“Really? You old stalker, stalking your crush on Facebook”

“I was trying to figure out what kind of idiot I had to work with. So I wasn’t crushing on you,”

“Mmmm… Whatever, I’m still telling everyone that you stalked me on Facebook before we got together. I’m glad that Moira knows about us now; she is going to find the story absolutely hilarious.”

Charles expects Erik to joke something back but he falls silent, so Charles bends his head so he can see Erik’s face. He is thinking about something so Charles lets him think and continues to watch the sharks swim around in the deep blue ocean. Then Erik moves his thumb so that Charles looks at him again.

“I’ve found out a solution to the problem of you always doing something stupid and making me worry about you. I’m applying for work with Interpol.”

This makes Charles turn around and hiss in discomfort when his wound twists in the wrong way. Erik frowns and helps Charles move so that he can now stare Erik directly on the eyes.

“What did you say?”

“You cannot stop me. I’m getting tired of worrying about you when I know that you are doing something dangerous and I’m not there to help. I know that you are not going to quit your job so this is the second best solution there is.”

Charles doesn’t really know what to think. He knows that they make a great team and he cannot really say that he doesn’t worry about Erik as well when he’s out there, but he’s really not sure that it is such a great idea. They could be stationed in different parts of the world and there is no way that their relationship would stay a secret when they are working in the same organization. Charles tells Erik this but it only makes Erik shrug.

“The Interpol has been after me for years. I speak six different languages and have a mutation that is very helpful in our line of work. Furthermore, you have so much pull in Interpol and together we can say that if we are not stationed together we’ll go work for CIA or we just go and live in Westchester as hermits. It would suit me as well. At least then you would be out of harm’s way,”

Charles has to admit that Erik has a point so he deflates and lies back down.

“Well, if you’re sure. But when I become your supervisor you better not step on my toes,”

Charles buries his face on Erik’s stomach and inhales the scent of clean clothes and little bit of sweat. Erik brings his hands back to Charles hair and hums.

“Well, we’ll see about that.But first we are going to make each other our emergency contacts. Tomorrow.”

Charles smiles against Erik’s stomach.

“Sounds good, darling, that sounds good.”

---

I know nothing about FBI, Interpol or gunshots what I haven’t seem form movies but I hope you enjoy it anyhow

[ang3lfuck]

It’s not often where I like to take time out of my day to rant about my job because honestly after so long i had to realize at the end of the day to leave everything at the siren when i leave work after putting up with multiple entitled rude customers every day and having to work with /some/ shitty ppl and like i realize that makes the rest of my day a bit more better in the end because fuck it, it’s a job i won’t be at forever but it’s still a job i take seriously because ive done it for so long and enjoy it. I moved stores last year because my old store was an absolute hell hole and even though i miss working with one of my best friends i jumped ship to this store with a manager in training who reminds me exactly like my mom who ended up getting the manager position at this store and like 2 months later i met my new boyfriend at this location and i love everyone i work with mostly and theres no drama so its like, 10 times better than 2017 was but man today i just want to take a minute to just rant because it’s things like this that REALLY dont make me want to work this job anymore Last night around 4 pm I got a message from my manager and one of my coworkers asking me if I can come in at 5 am to open as opposed to 6 (like yeah, i can but i really dont want to wake up at 3:45 as opposed to 4:45, not really the point but i was honestly being a baby because long story short i didnt want to), and like i didnt see the messages until 20 minutes later because android phones are a load of fucking horsetrash so im like ok ill text my boss saying if i have to i will but like 10 minutes after i texted her i realized she already offered MY shift to someone else in the district just assuming i’d open like HELLO CAN YOU ASK THEM TO COVER THE OPEN THAT ORIGINALLY NEEDED TO BE COVERED INSTEAD OF BRINGING ME INTO THIS MESS so i see that someone offered to do it, and I was like okay im going to call my boss and figure shit out so we talked it out and I asked her if she could ask this guy who wants to take my shift to open instead b/c i also want my shift because it was MORE HOURS (?????) and she was like oh yeah sure and so he says “I think i can do that!!!!” and she responds with “if 6 is better for you we can make that work see you tomorrow!!!!” and at this point i hear nothing back from her as im basically just waiting to get my text message of shame saying i open, so like an hour later im just mad so i text her saying “i guess im opening?” and she told me she was going to open instead and she didnt mind because she didnt hear back from this guy since that last message because that last message made it seem like he was unsure of opening. so i was like aiight cool thx girl luv u. cuz my manager still respects that I walk 30 minutes to work every morning and all. so i’m makin my way to work today and I start at 6 like I was supposed to and i walk in and see that guy who was going to take the shift there and he’s all “HEY WHATS UP” and like i know this guy because we trained him at my old store before i left so he’s like a year old barista. and i was like yeah sup i member you. i didnt think you were gonna be here tho. so i go into the back and my manager is like “well, i saw him show up because i came in a little early and i wasnt going to argue. I just wish he left me some more communication.” and i was like yeah no kidding. but I go on the floor and I start doing my tasks and shit and this fucking twerp is like right beside me 90% of the time just telling me stories about people from stores he’s worked at before and how the new store he was at now is the best and its like a reserve clover store and shit i don’t care about. just blah blah blah about other ppl i didnt know or things that were so small that you possibly couldnt care about at all and mind you this is at 6 fucking oclock in the morning and i havent even had my coffee yet so im sitting here trying to put the soy milk away while he’s just standing there in my way while im also trying to make myself a damn coffee while im just smiling and nodding but inside i wanted to die like who the fuck does this so early and like i dont remember when i worked with him before being so fucking chatty and annoying and he was also talking like a complete know it all because he works at a reserve store and referring to new baristas as “green beans” like bitch you havent even been here for like a year lmao (i’m a nice ripened 5 year bean) and so after awhile of me wanting to bang my head against a wall as opposed to work my supervisor sent him on his 15 minute break so he chatted it up the same with my manager all the gossip and he also fucking mumbles so you can barely even hear him so its also awkward as fuck. he spent no word of a lie 28 minutes talking to her because i timed his fucking break. i went back there expecting to take my break next because we have to run 15′s before peak but he took too long on his so i couldnt go on mine. my manager had the biggest scowl on her face when i came back saying “yeah, he isn’t coming back” and like just to top off other things he did he ordered a quad blonde drink with 3/4 of his partner beverages (That’s 14 shots of blonde espresso. WHAT) and he ordered a venti earl grey tea with 7 tea bags for his second break and he refused to let my coworker ring him in for every bag (??????? like thanks for fucking up our inventory fucko) and he wore a fucking white true religion shirt under his apron which probably just made me more angry b/c it isnt dress code and i just wanted him to spill something on it b/c isnt that like an expensive af brand? what the fuck are you doing wearing that to work at starbucks? anyway i just couldn’t help myself from just ranting for a few minutes on here idk me and my coworkers basically talked shit about him until he left and that made the rest of my hour and 15 minutes at work pretty nice ty for listening

[texasparamedicine]

Twilight Zone

I had recently moved 5 hours across the state to a town I knew virtually nothing about, and had taken a very low paying job at a transfer service until I could learn the area and sniff out a good 911 job. Unfortunately for me, this meant that I became that guy who was just passing through what at the time was a fairly large but highly disorganized company, and I was totally surrounded by EMT-Basic lifers in the seedy underworld of transfer. 

That time period of my life I met an army of EMT’s that were each complete oddball characters completely deserving of their own Stephen King novel. There was one run down station in town that would no lie house up to 20 Basics during the day while they did the dialysis game. They all hated paramedics or were desperately trying to become one; a very love and hate relationship. Because medics were rare in that inexperienced environment, they typically were/are reserved for ER calls and long distance transports where the company can actually make more than a few hundred bucks off the insurance billing. The station was just so overrun with people it was insane. If you got off the couch to go to the bathroom, someone would steal your seat. I was even sleeping one night in a closet (they had made a closet a bunk room with twin beds so close to each other you couldn’t walk between them) and someone stole my bed when I made a bathroom pit stop at 2 a.m. Yes, someone took the sheets off my bed and fell asleep in the time it took me to pee. And then, of course, I nearly murdered them. After arguing my bed back and cursing at each other in the dark, while others told us to shut up since we were disrupting everyone’s sleep, I laid back down for about ten minutes before I got dispatched on a call, and the bed thieve was ecstatic because he got to reclaim his stolen property.

Most of the employees left within six months and I was no different. But what was baffling were the people that had been there for years. By some cruel twist of fate, I ended up working a few shifts with a certain lifer that may go down in history as the worst Basic partner I’ve ever had; possibly the worst Basic licensed in the state of Texas. (There are so many candidates for that award though, it’s all subjective at this point I guess). She was in her mid 20′s and weighed close to 350 lbs. We were doing our truck check off in the morning and it was very evident, no matter what truck we were on, that not a single crew member apparently knew what exactly a truck check off meant, since half of the truck supplies and state minimums were clearly nowhere to be found. I was calling off supply counts to my partner and she was doing the universal partner ritual of staring down at her phone while completely ignoring me. I just started making up numbers and she never looked at me, but what she would do is stick her hand in a stack of non-rebreather masks and crinkle the plastic wrapper to make it sound like she was being productive. When she finally saw that I was staring at her the whole time, there was no acknowledgement of poor work ethic, or ownership, no, she got out of the back and said she was gonna go take a shit. She and apparently every male partner I’ve ever had since, had some form of bowel problem. 

So, as noted, my morning that day was starting off nicely, when we got dispatched to a rural location over an hour away to take a middle aged man to a nursing home for hospice care. We got alerted of calls through a cell phone, which of course had poor signal inside the building. Naturally, you would get in trouble if you didn’t go en route within a certain time frame, but the problem was dispatch could only hear us when we were backing out of the parking lot. I waited like usual for my partner to show up but she didn’t, so when I found her, post dump, she was sleeping in an upright position on the couch in the crowded day room. We ended up going en route a wee bit late, and had a long uneventful conversation free drive to this residence that we found via GPS. It was a completely wooden cabin with several stairs going up to the front porch. We make scene and at this time I have virtually no other information other than we are picking up a male patient. A flustered woman opens the door and tells us where he is going and hands me a stack of what initially appears to be non-related paperwork I’m supposed to give to the nursing home staff. 

In the living room sitting in a small kitchen chair is a 400 pound man who is snoring...and I can not wake him up. I ask the wife what’s going on with him and she says he has every medical condition wrong with him, but he’s going to be on hospice to detox from pain pills. She then resumes whatever activity she was doing prior to our arrival, because I did not see her again until we were leaving. I asked my partner to get a baseline set of VS while I checked his blood sugar. He was definitely not hypoglycemic as his sugar was on par with his weight. While I’m trying to micromanage whatever the hell is going on here, I notice that my partner has not taken a BP, pulse ox, or put the pt. on the monitor. She looks me in the eye and says something to the effect of why are we taking VS? We’re just supposed to take him to the nursing home. She was so inconvenienced at having to take a BP, that I just took the cuff from her and did everything myself, including a 12 lead EKG. Because we didn’t have jump bags at this fine establishment, I went out to the truck and got some Narcan IN and a stair chair. I administered the Narcan with absolutely no change in status. And naturally, to make my job a bit more stressful, the pt.’s pulse ox readings are low so I put him on high flow O2. 

Now getting him over to the stair chair was going to be a battle because my partner would not even attempt to lift and this guy was dead weight. What we did was I stood him up in front of me and my partner moved the chair and dropped the stair chair behind him. I would like to say at this point of my life I was regularly deadlifting 405, and that was the only way that situation could have happened. Wouldn’t happen now, that’s for sure. We stair chaired the man out to the ambulance and then I nearly threw my back out trying to lift him into the back of the unit. The pt. is now responding to painful stimuli, which I happened to be in great supply of, and I started a line and gave him more Narcan IV. The high flow oxygen had raised his sats but again, he was still altered. So, I try and call my supervisor to see if I should take him to the nearest ER or to the original facility. The Einstein told me the company would not get paid for the transport if I did not transport to the originally planned location. It was one of those moments were in hindsight, I should have said no and taken him to an ER, but what we did per our enlightened supervisor, was go emergency traffic to the nursing home. (Yes, that actually happened). 

When we get there, like most nursing homes EMS has to deal with, there’s apparently no one working...at all...in the entire building. We find someone hiding in the cafeteria and tell them of the situation. She appears to be unconcerned and goes about her business for roughly 20 minutes before telling me to take him into a room that’s at the very end of the hall and isolated. There are no beds in said room, but there is a wheelchair. We do the same song and dance getting the pt. off the stretcher and into the wheelchair. As I’m waiting for the nurse or aide or anyone to come sign for transfer of care, the pt.’s respiratory rate starts slowing down. With a sternal rub, he speeds it up noticeably, but after a bit would start slowing it down. I looked at my partner and was like you see this? This is the code face...he’s gonna freaking code before I get my freaking signature.

I ended up getting the same lady to sign for us but I had to again use my tracking skills to locate her because she was on the other side of the building talking. We left the nursing home in silence, and my partner and I did not talk to each other for about half of the way back to the station. I casually tried to pick her brain, as to why she would think we don’t need VS on a patient that appears to be unconscious. What followed was the wrath of a hangry woman. She yelled at me saying that I was an overachiever that was making everyone look bad. Apparently, pointing out the patient’s code face had really unnerved her, because she asked me why would I say that? I asked her how many cardiac arrest calls she has worked. She then started crying and said she hopes to never work one, and that she would quit the day she got one. (Really??)

The rest of my time at that transfer service was spent laying low and spending my time constructively trying to find better employment. I still see one or two of my co-workers from that place out and about at some of the ER’s. They are the chosen few that were motivated to get out of there and leave that wasteland behind. The last I’d heard of my partner from that day was she is still working there doing the dialysis grind, but she’d married an illegal immigrant and had gastric bypass. Guess she’s managed to avoid that cardiac arrest call...so far.