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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

Ya hipster back with his niche fandoms again, hell yeah. (The mods at BHTB must be tired of my bs, really). Not gonna lie, I went all out on this one, it’s like 4K-word long tf?? I guess exams have just been making all my insp flood in one swoop lmao.

Bullet Time

Summary: A shooting that shouldn't have happened. A bullet which hit the wrong person. Friends getting scared, a nurse crying. Blood pouring in droplets on everything it touches. In the midst of it all: Angie, her feelings and what could be her biggest sin. Perhaps she did kill a man today.

Fandom: Trauma Center Ships: Derek/Angie, implied Greg/Cybil

Wordcount: 4.4K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

Drip, drip, drip.

Standing there was a nurse, frozen, when everything unfolded right before her eyes. Her body, whose reflexes were usually as sharp if not sharper than a brand-new high-end scalpel’s blade, had given up on her, refusing to move when she should have been able to do something. The moments right before repeated on loop in her mind, racing, the intense beating of her heart resonating from the top of her skull to the ends of her toes.

Drop by drop, blood fell to the ground, having poured in a splash in a moment, then settled to just flow from its hole, gently, rapidly, drip drip drip. A part of it had tainted her uniform, making the colour go from a pastel, reassuring pink to a menacing crimson, hair dressed on her arms and legs. It continued dripping along in deafening metronome-like rhythm, drip drip drip, slowly making its way through her nerves, eating away at her sanity. Still paralyzed, she was unable to do anything about it, drip drip drip.

A red puddle was forming at the feet of the person in front of her, blue uniform left untouched from the back, drop by drop. Tears formed inside her eyes, threatening to exit as her sight blurred beyond recognition, preventing her from further hurting herself like that when she was still immobile and defenceless, as if the world was going to come for her throat next and that she’d be dead before she’d be able to realize that. Drip, drip, drip.

This someone in front of her, the shield with his arms stretched in front of her like the statue of a protective deity of an old city, gagged, desperate for air. He dropped to his knees, more blood pouring on the ground in raspy coughing fits, making her face the muzzle of Nemesis staring at her eyes with fury burning inside their irises and reddened sclerae. A shiver went down her back, making her tremble in either anticipation or rage, her legs tensed and her arms finally moving, fingers operational, waiting for the next move she’d decide to make.

In the desperation of a situation gone out of her control, in the back alley, stood a young woman who happened to be a nurse with more than a simple licence. As if the sound of her colleague gagging had made her break out of her trance, she made her first real move, sidestepping in a hope, using the darkness to her advantage, grabbing the man with the gun from behind and making him fall to the ground in a single swoop.

The weapon fell in a metallic click on the strangled sidewalk, letting go of its other bullet, piercing the nightly air and flying to the sky at an unbelievable speed. She had seen bullets before, she wasn’t scared anymore. The man was unconscious, maybe dead, but that was beyond her care or attention. For the first real time in her life, it felt like a death that’d have been deserved and, even if it made her a murderer, then she’d be a justified one. There was no mercy for those who brought death upon innocent lives.

In a swift move of her right hand, she typed a very familiar three-unit phone number, fingers moving almost on their own. Her voice, her words, her gestures were all automatisms: she barely listened to what the other people told her unless it was vital information, a way to estimate how messed up the situation really was. Her own former colleagues felt like they were all robots she was speaking to because she was behaving like one, like a machine not to collapse under the weight of her own anxiety flaring in her chest, the incessant beating of her pounding heart and the fears she was overcome with. The voices were familiar and foreign all the same, a hiccup escaped her lips, and the phone almost slipped out of her hands as she fell to her knees.

The tears exited her eyes, rolled onto her cheeks, fell to the ground.

Drip, drip, drip.

It was a calm evening at Hope Hospital, glad to see there barely were any activity in the emergency department on that night. Desert corridors, nurses going home or arriving for the nightly shift, goodbyes and hellos, good nights and good evenings exchanged. A serenity out of the ordinary which, truly, should have made him much more alert because, as it stood, every calm has a storm following it.

Truth be told, Greg wanted to go home, especially when the shift he shared with Cybil was nearing its end. Did he arrange their shifts to match out of pure personal pleasure and medical efficiency? Yes. Did he regret it, even as he glanced at the clock either for it to turn to midnight or for something to jump at them? No. Perhaps he was as infatuated in his anaesthetist as his latest, former student was in his nurse the last time he saw the two of them around.

As such, Cybil and he were simply enjoying a nice conversation on how life was, allowing himself to disclose a few embarrassing childhood stories about Sidney to someone who had worked with his brother before at Caduceus. It felt nice to have a breath of fresh air, once in a while, so he avoided glancing at the clock or his watch too much and profited from the tranquillity surrounding them, hoping to maybe tell Cybil how pretty she was again and how much he enjoyed talking to her and… Yeah. Definitely infatuated, the diagnosis was obvious enough.

Cybil didn’t seem like she was too upset about the calm either. The stories about the day where Sidney, the Sidney Kasal who always said he’d never lose a fight because he had never lost any argument in his life from the crib to obtaining his high-ranked chair at Caduceus USA, messed up on something and was panicked about what their parents would say made her smirk, then laughed, until they were unable to stop giggling like little mischievous kids around the cherished coffee table of their staff room.

The storm soon enough came back, though, as it always did in the life of head surgeon Greg Kasal.

Amanda Marsh, their latest recruit whom had joined them after Angie Thompson’s departure for Caduceus, burst the door of the staff room open, eyes gone wide, beads of sweat on her forehead and temples, limbs trembling. This didn’t immediately faze either specialist: young nurses usually were easy to impress, even Angie had been overwhelmed when she had had a patient flatline on her before. However, this meant going back to work soon, so he got up from his chair to face her.

“Dr Kasal, Dr Myers, we… We have a patient in!!” she yelled, on top of her lungs, despite being otherwise breathless (or so it seemed, he supposed).

Greg and Cybil exchanged glances, before looking back at her.

“We’ll get ready, bring us to them, okay?”

Amanda nodded and the three of them left for the emergency wing of the hospital. Storms had different sizes, from the small whirlwind to the ferocious typhoon nobody escaped from on its tracks. Secretly, considering this was the end of the shift and that the length of the day was starting to take a slightly toll on him, Greg quietly hoped this would be one of the smaller storms, that it’d be an easy job he couldn’t mess up. Was this asking too much from a world where GUILT had been eradicated?

Yes.

“Here’s the chart, Dr Kasal! Please make it quick, the patient is in a critical condition!” she gave him the papers he needed before running away into the operating room.

“I’ll join her,” Cybil told him as she had gotten her scrubs on. “You study that, I’m going to make them sleep.”

“Got it, I’m on my way.”

The chart on a chair as he prepped himself for the last surgery of the day, the one before his workmate came for the shift, he quickly read through it. The patient was a twenty-seven-year-old man, relatively tall and slim, otherwise with no specific condition. He had taken a bullet to the left lung, possibly having a rib or two damaged from it entered his body, where it had stayed. He finished getting ready when the topic of heavy blood loss and internal haemorrhage came on, prompting him to operate as soon as possible.

Once in the operating room, the grimmer face of Cybil and Amanda’s nervousness didn’t make it any easier to convince himself this was going to be an easy end of the day, despite how simplistic removing a bullet was compared to treating GUILT. An IV was inserted into the patient’s wrist, monitored by the nurse, vitals displayed on a screen at 40. Not good, of course, but nothing he couldn’t fix. He kept his cool and put the chart away.

“Amanda, I’ll need you to keep an eye on the vitals along with his pulse, pressure and blood levels. Cybil, you know what you have to do. Let’s save him, I know we can do this.”

Greg, as self-assured as ever, picked up his scalpel and gel before, out of habit and maybe tradition, was about to look at the patient’s face to mentally tell them to hang on, that it was going to be alright and that they’d soon be out of trouble when he remembered something. He’d fix it quicker than the bullet damaged the lung tissue, but before, he had to ask something to be done.

“Cybil, turn his head on his side, he may cough up blood as we proceed.”

He watched as she did so, silently. Before their eyes could connect again, however, Greg realized who he was dealing with, tools almost slipping out of fingers. The metal touching the floor was never heard, but the tension grew into white noise.

“Oh, God, not you of all people…” escaped from his lips.

Amanda seemed confused, but her inquiries for a reply weren’t met by either specialist in the OR.

He’d have the check the name on the charts before operating, next time. He was ready to deal with a bullet removal, but the patient turned out to be a rotten surprise. Yet, remembered what he had told Derek when he had himself been infected with Tetarti, he breathed in, breathed out and mentally slapped himself. Never let your friendship slow down your surgical skills. Never let your personal feelings hinder your performances. Never let yourself get emotional when you’re needed in the OR.

Dr Kasal would save this young man; he swore to himself as he disinfected the body for a thoracotomy. He’d never lose a patient, ever. Not like this, not in these circumstances.

The ER’s waiting room was empty at this hour of the night, making Angie desperate for a distraction as she waited for something, anything to be announced, to happen. She had never been very patient when she was unable to help, to be active and proactive and change the world one gesture at a time. Reduced to the role of the concerned relative, friend or loved one, she didn’t feel right to be there when she had the knowledge and skills to do something about it.

Instead, all she had to look at was her phone whose battery was dwindling down faster than the time went by and her hands, her bloodied hands she hadn’t taken the time to wash before coming here and sitting in this room. She could only hope the good Dr Kasal was the one operating, the safest hands she could think of in this hospital, perhaps in this city to deal with this when Caduceus would have been too far away.

She needed to be moving if she didn’t want to go insane, so she got up and decided to head for the restrooms. She’d be able to wash her hands covered in dried dark red, turning to brown the more time passed, a reminder that her clothes were bloodstained and that she’d never feel clean again after going through this, after watching this unfold before her eyes. She’d physically be cleansed, but it’d be a whole other story mentally.

As she rubbed the red away from her hands with force and what she had left of her vigour, Angie looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was dishevelled, her eyes reddened by all the crying, her body was still trembling, she looked like a maniac who had just killed a man and was getting away with it despite her intentions.

Thing was, she had killed a man.

They were walking in an alley to retrieve a parcel Angie had missed by having to go to work earlier than usual to make up for Sienna having the flu when she heard a somewhat familiar sound: that of a firearm getting readied to shoot. Instantly, she turned around while Derek, not having the sharper attention she had to tiny noises, didn’t for a few moments, only to be faced by a man and his gun pointed directly at her.

“We were just trying to fix humankind,” he said in that monotonous voice of the people whose anger has confused them so much that they’re only empty shells of who they used to be, “why did you stop us?”

“Put that weapon away immediately!”

“Why should I? You’re guilty as charged, Dr Stiles, Nurse Thompson.”

As Angie walked through the familiar corridors of Hope Hospital again, bittersweet memories came back to her. She thought of her former colleagues, how much she’d have hoped to cross either Dr Kasal or Dr Myers and ask them how their relationship had been doing, how badly she wanted to hug someone and cry on their shoulder because she was scared, if not terrified, if not shaking with worry. She should’ve been reassured to be there, but clearly, she was the complete opposite.

The trigger was pulled before she could do anything about it, her speech interrupted before it could even get out of her mouth. She was tempted to close her eyes and let the bullet heading towards her take her life, “let me kill the lady first so she doesn’t have to witness your demise, Sinner Stiles,” but even her eyelids stood frozen as the shot was fired.

Little did she know Derek was rushing to her at an unnatural but known speed, shoving her out of the bullet’s way, only discovering the deed had been done when she was on the ground, palms and knees hurting from the brutal fall, and red flashing before her eyes and onto her clothes.

In the end, Angie came back to the waiting room, pacing because sitting truly made her inactive, passive, useless. She wasn’t a waste, she wasn’t going to let herself waste away when perhaps, just perhaps, Derek needed her sooner or later. The tears were about to fall again as the events once again repeated in her mind, tearing apart her defences, showing herself she was far more vulnerable and weaker than she wanted herself to be, than she displayed herself to be to others.

She couldn’t be able to describe what she felt like when she jumped on the guy, disarmed him with a slap on the wrist and threw him to the ground. There was anger, of course, deep-rooted anger which had blazed through the different stages of intensity to become an unstoppable, unsatisfied want to see him disappear in suffering before her eyes, a desire to see him burn in Hell until the end of eternity, the wish to give justice to her dearest friend. Yet, there was something else, lingering somewhere, hindering at her need to destroy and pulverize until nothing was left of the murder attempt: sadness, concern, guilt.

Was she at fault for Derek getting shot in her stead? Yes. No. Maybe. Yes, but no, but yes, but no… The cycle of guilt looped endlessly because she didn’t understand his decision. She was too heartbroken to rationally think about said decision.

She pulled out her phone, its battery in its last quarter. She had no charger on her, nothing to distract herself anymore, as if she could physically bring herself not to think of the situation. She was the reason why events had taken such a drastic, tragic turn: if she had been in control, if she had reacted properly and quickly enough, if she had been the heroine she had always wanted to be and become, she’d have stopped the dude before it was too late, before anyone got injured, before anyone risked losing their lives to stupid hatred and misplaced ideologies.

Angie, despite her distressed state, cradled him in her arms, the other man unconscious and laying there with no clear sign of being alive or dead. Everything about Derek screamed vulnerability: his pulse was weak, his breathing was feeble, his eyes couldn’t properly focus on her. She could tell he was trying to reassure her, but every time he spoke, he coughed up blood, and every time he tried holding her hand to show her he was going to be fine, he squeezed his eyes in pain.

Her reflexes weren’t lost in the panic of the situation, much to her relief. Pressing a hand against the wound to apply pressure to what must have been both an internal and external haemorrhage, she made sure to see if he was still conscious, if he could still reply properly and react to his environment. Time was slow, its course confusing, and she cursed herself for not having first-aid material on her when she had barebone training in it.

Eventually, exhausted by her tears and her fears, Angie sat down on a chair, never to move from it again. Even if she had cried over and over again in the last hour or so, she still wanted to weep like a child, to call a friend and vent to them about how scared she was of the future, of his future, of how much she messed up on that one. What an idiot she was! And yet, and yet…And yet, Derek had done his best to reassure her, as if she wasn’t the reason why he had gotten shot…

She was a mess, lost in the tempest of emotions, unable to muster up enough courage to look strong and cool-headed. Instead, she was… absolutely useless to Derek, whose use of the Healing Touch had weakened to begin with. She should have been comforting him, but instead…

“H-hey, Angie… Don’t cry…”

He was the one trying to make her feel better, despite her mistakes, despite his condition going downhill faster than it had unfolded.

“B-but… You got shot, Derek! I… I’m so sorry!!”

He put a weak, febrile hand on her shoulder, drenched in his blood and printing onto her dress.

“I’ll be fine, I… I’m sure of it… Please, don’t cry…”

His voice was hoarse, struggling to speak out as he coughed up a bit more blood mixed with what she could assume was saliva. Sitting against a wall, face to face with her, she felt like she needed to protect him, but had already failed to do so…

“I… Ha!”

She yelped when she saw his already faint grasp on her shoulder weaken even more and his eyes, already half-shut in pain and exhaustion, close further. She was losing him. As long as he was awake, he was alive, but if he passed out, he could pass away and she’d be too sorrowful to notice it and apply the few reanimation techniques she knew. She couldn’t lose him, not even let him faint on her.

“Derek, please, stay with me!” Her voice hiccupped with yet another wave of sobs. “Help is coming, please, just… Stay awake!”

Too late: he probably wasn’t hearing her anymore. His eyes closed soon afterwards, leaving her alone with the silence, her tears and a breathing so weak it could vanish for a yes or a no.

“I… I’m sorry…”

…all she could do was wait and hope that Derek would have the strength and will to pull through it; so she slumped her shoulders and closed her eyes. There was no use in getting panicked…

“…Angela Thompson?”

An unfamiliar voice got her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump on her chair. Facing her was a young woman around her age, whom she didn’t recall ever seeing before, presumably her substitute.

“Yes?”

Then she realized what it meant. The lack of an expression she could decipher on the nurse, presumably stuck in anxieties, scared her beyond what she could even express with words and medical terminology.

“How’s Derek?!”

…

Everything felt… numb. Drowned sounds, muffled visuals, numbed sense of touch. Where was he? The ceiling, white, was no indication. It was blurry, everything was a blur actually, and his mind was completely blanking out. What had happened? What did he do last? Did it explain why he was there, where he was, how he had gotten there?

Did he ever wake up this confused, or was it one of these cases where he had passed out and didn’t realize it?

His whole body was made out of the heaviest metal, limbs unresponsive and heavy, eyes half-opened and whose lids were made out of titanium. He didn’t have his glasses on, he was sure of it: otherwise, his vision would have focused much earlier than that and left him waiting for far less time. Instead, heh… Where were his glasses, actually? Were they gone, were they near, did he still have a sense of space or dimension?

He looked around, as his neck was the first place of his body to remember how to function properly. More blur, obviously, but he could vaguely distinguish a few things, including the presence of someone to his right and a red square… thing to his left. Safe to assume he was in a bed and that someone was sitting in a chair next to said bed, so he was in a hospital.

Wait, hospital?!

It came back to him in a flash. The former Delphi member, the gun, using his gift to push Angie out of the way, the pain, the blood, and her tears. Everything came back, albeit these memories were still rendered imprecise and vague by the fact he had passed out and had just woken up. Goddammit… He had survived that, though, he was sure he was a goner and that he’d never get the occasion to tell Angie goodbye.

Not that he had wanted to do that on purpose. It was just a need he felt, to say her farewell before joining back his father. Alas, fortunately, Dad would have to wait: he had survived one more day, one more day and so much more lives he could save with these hands of his… soon enough.

A very welcome voice came to his ears

“Searching for these, Derek?”

His glasses magically appeared on his face, gently, without forcing themselves. Only a couple of people could have the delicateness needed to do so… and even then, it was a bit surprising.

“Angie…?”

His voice sounded as well as he looked and felt like, which meant terrible and cottony. Not exactly how he wanted to show up after getting close to death yet again.

“That’s me, Dr Stiles. How you’re feeling?”

“Huh… Had better days for sure…”

Now that his vision was clear, he took the time to look at her, to indulge in looking at her again to be exact. She was smiling, as beautiful as ever, even if he could somewhat tell she had been crying (well, he knew that, so it made this observation easier to make). He wished he hadn’t made her get so concerned, from him he’d assume, but alas… It was too late to go back on that. What had been done, was done. No need to dwell on the past, despite the regrets…

“You scared us so much, you can’t even imagine!” She began by scolding him and, if his chest didn’t feel so sore, maybe he’d have laughed it off as usual. He was used to it, it was almost a daily thing for them. Friendly banter, in a way.

“Ha… Sorry for that, I… I jumped in there…”

Angie looked on the side, cheeks reddened. She muffled a hiccup.

“Why… Why did you do that, Derek? I, I mean, I’m grateful, but… That was stupid and you know it!”

He couldn’t exactly blame her for being upset about what had happened in the alley. He hadn’t explained himself very clearly when he was too busy keeping his airways free.

“I… saw that it was heading for your heart… You wouldn’t have survived that, so… I thought… It’d be better if I took it because I wasn’t going to immediately die from it…”

He attempted to smile to her, to reassure her again (too late, Derek, you dumbass).

“So, in all… I say it was worth it. I wouldn’t have stood losing you to that guy…”

She looked speechless, for once. All she did in response to his words, his poorly-chosen but true words, was to squeeze his hand.

“Me… Me neither, so… Never do that again okay?”

“Not a chance…”

He allowed himself a light laugh.

“As a surgeon, I outta now… What are my injuries, Ms Thompson…?”

Angie looked utterly baffled at this, if not offended, but she still cleared her throat and, in the end, let a smirk show on her face.

“A bullet to the left lung, internal and external bleeding, a damaged rib. Don’t worry, it didn’t break, your lung isn’t punctured. And it better has stayed that way!”

“Agreed there… Would have been a pain… Literally so.”

“Do I need to consider you making terrible medical puns a good step towards your recovery, Derek?”

“Yes.”

The silence settling in the room was light, almost soothing. Not that he didn’t want to tell her about all the things he had thought when he was sure he was going to meet his demise in a dark, dirty corner of Angeles Bay, quite the opposite in fact; he just was too tired to tell them.

They were both alive, that was what mattered, all that mattered. He’d have to thank his surgeon as soon as he’d see them, but that could wait. His professionalism could wait, he was sure Caduceus wouldn’t blame him for taking a day off, especially when his assistant nurse was so adamant in keeping him safe and watching over him. It’d be… all fine.

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tcdarkeststorms · 4 years

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Mother’s Day special

Since it’s Mother’s Day, I wanted to give some tribute to the moms we see in Trauma Center, along with headcanons about how a couple of ‘em are as moms and generally exploring stuff. This is my ship hell, just a fair warning.

HERE WE GO!!!

Cybil Kasal

Cybil and Greg, honestly thought long and hard about starting a family. Neither, were entirely sure, because of their GUILT and worrying if it would potentially cause issues with having kids or create issues for the kid once they were born. Privately, they got gene screening done.

They were so relieved when they were told they could in fact have a family safely.

Kari was born 10 months later.

Greg gleefully was telling those they were comfortable telling “She’s Gregnant.” including his mother in law. Cybil was bemoaning the fact, that this was his first dad joke and only the start of a lifetime full of them.

During her pregnancy with Kari, Cybil didn’t even stop working. While anesthesia isn’t an easy specialty by far… It was pretty much a situation of let her or lose a hand. Greg just kept a careful eye on her but put his foot down finally when she was in her last trimester.

The night Kari was born, Greg actually nearly missed it because of an emergency patient. He wanted to pass them off to another doctor, but Cybil insisted he go, she was gonna be fine. He made it with literally seconds to spare as the first thing he heard when he came into the room was Kari’s first cries.

Kari’s name actually has some significance to them both. Derived from HIkari since she was their little light of Hope.

For the first few months, Kari could only fall asleep if she was nestled between them. Cybil lost a LOT of sleep making sure their little girl was fine. (She had a little cot that she was tucked into that was above their own blanket)

Kari’s first words were….

“Dada”.

Greg would never forget the LOOK Cybil gave him when that happened. He tried to convince her, she really said Mama but they both knew.

She took her first steps for Cybil though and that was enough for her. (And Greg got it all on film including the crying from Cybil.)

As she grows, Kari and her mom are very close and Cybil does her best to be there as much as she can. She still works, but she’s not ashamed that she did indeed bring her little one to work a few times.

The first time Kari got sick with something more serious than a cold, it was a good number of sleepless nights. (Poor kiddo had food poisoning. It was not fun for Kari who was five at the time and Greg and Cybil were taking shifts all night to make sure she was comfortable/hydrated)

Kari was born on Mother’s Day of 2021. (May 9th) Cybil boasts that she was the best present she ever got.

Cybil is THAT Mom during sport events at school and the like. Cheering as loud as she can, booing the other team, boasting: “THAT’S MY LITTLE GIRL!!!” And generally just… embracing the role of “embarrassing mom” with utter pride.

They never had another child. They only planned for one and they got their little miracle child.

Naomi Kimishima

Naomi after she woke up from surgery had Alyssa moved to her room. Alyssa actually never slept in her hospital bed again, they slept in the same one together.

Alyssa doesn’t really sleep in her own room all that often. She prefers being near her mother, since she’s so busy… and Alyssa privately, feels safer being right next to her. When she gets older she’ll gradually sleep in her own bed more and more but Naomi doesn’t mind…. Privately, she feels better having her kid right there.

Alyssa, doesn’t remember the first time she called Naomi “Mom” however Naomi does. It was while she was dropping Alyssa off to play at Joshua’s house and Alyssa shouted over her shoulder “Bye Mama! I’ll see you later!”

She’d never admit this out loud to anyone (Except Little Guy) that she sat there in her car for nearly ten minutes crying.

Naomi… doesn’t really get along with the other moms that volunteer at Alyssa’s school. She comes across as intimidating to them and she thinks they’re too protective. (She got a pretty nasty set of glares, when waiting for the kids to be done messing around after school, Alyssa fell. Instead of rushing to her and fretting, she just called across:

“You good!?”

“Ahuh!”

“Good, get up and keep going.”

She could FEEL the judgement)

She… generally dislikes parental participation during events. She loves spending time with Alyssa, but she’ll be the first to admit, she’s more of an introvert now than she used to be and being around so many people is exhausting. She’ll suck it up for her sake though…

Except for Bake Sales.

She refuses to bake. She’s not a disaster chef like Gabe jokes, she can make basic meals and the most advanced thing she can make is various curries (all from scratch and both Indian and Japanese style curries) but unfortunately, that’s not exactly… welcomed at bake sales. She has no shame buying stuff at the store and dropping it onto the table.

There’s a few other moms she works with at CIFM, but they don’t talk…. And actually, Naomi avoids talking to them in particular, because she… really, REALLY hates how often they try to envelope her into their “Mom Clique” at work. (She got enough of it, after being told how often Alyssa should be snacking, ect and flat out said: “She’s breathing and suffered no brain damage from the explosion. But you know, let’s hear again how I’m a terrible mom for letting her stay up late on weekends and letting her eat candy.”)

They give her a wide berth now as if she’s cursed.

That’s perfectly fine with her.

While they eat out often, Naomi does ensure Alyssa and her both eat a variety of food. Lot of vegetables, fruits, ect.

She became closer with her own mother, after adopting Alyssa since her mom was elated at having a granddaughter… and elated her child was going to live.

Naomi and her mom were close when she was growing up and she wanted the same for her and Alyssa… Luckily for her, Alyssa utterly adores her.

Alyssa shows interest in biology, but she’ll admit, she doesn’t think she could do the work Naomi does. She knows how hard it is emotionally on her at times and has stayed up with her, distracting her after some rough cases. Mainly in the form of watching movies and lots of cuddles in a blanket nest.

On her days off, Naomi always tries to see what Alyssa wants to do, before making plans… most of these plans, include teaching her about meditating, telling her stories, or facetiming with Naomi’s parents. Making blanket forts and watching cartoons, or reading together. (Naomi’s just… baffled at how easy going of a kid Alyssa is. She realizes she lucked out with having a child that’s so calm)

Chloe is still a problem cat and Naomi laments frequently, she didn’t expect to share a familiar with Alyssa.

She’d do it all over again for her sake.

When she and Little Guy get married, Naomi makes one thing clear - she wants ONLY one child and she’s got that already. Navel happily agrees.

Tomoe Tachibana

I like to imagine, Tomoe does want to be a mother someday. It’s just a matter of getting there… and being patient, even if it’s hard sometimes…. Sooo here we are.

In every timeline, when she gets with CR-S01, they struggle for awhile to have kids.

And in each timeline, they adopt after a certain point. They take in a little girl, named Rizabelle who is the utter light of their lives and they adore everything about her. Later on, they’ll have another child, a son (Galen, who you can find here: https://theblueskyphoenix.tumblr.com/post/612419824029777920/citra-torres-teresa-cunningham-galen-muller

Tomoe’s a very gentle and nurturing parent. While their daughter’s pretty hyper, she does her best to help her slow down and appreciate the life around them.

Their little girl, is generally just a ray of sunshine to everyone she meets and a very kind little girl. She adores her parents and spends as much time as possible with them when their home… and even at work.

Tomoe wants to teach both of her kids, martial arts, only if they want to though.

Rizabelle wants to. SO BADLY. Unfortunately, she’s a bit of a frail little thing so it’s not until she’s a little stronger that she starts learning the basics. There is absolutely no desire to take over the Tachibana clan though.

With both of her children, Tomoe emphasizes wanting them to know about their family’s background. A lot of history lessons, Japanese lessons… but she emphasizes she wants them to be kids as well. She never wants them to feel the pressure she did growing up, to do everything a proper “lady of the clan” would do.

Tomoe and Erhard both are guilty of being WAY too excited, to shop for their kids back to school supplies. Rizabelle had JUST turned six when they adopted her, so she was phasing out of Kindergarten when that happened. (They both went overboard. A LOT of books, too many backpacks, specialized stationary, Rizabelle genuinely lost count of how many bento boxes she has for her lunches. They were just so excited to have a kid to shop for. The same thing happens with Galen when it’s his turn, except he does use a few of Rizabelle’s hand-me-down’s since at least there were a few backpacks that weren’t too girly for his tastes and bento boxes didn’t really matter if they were cutesy or not)

Tomoe, privately really enjoys anime unironically, it’s just what she grew up with. It was a real joy to her, to get to share some of her favorite series with her kids. (Black Jack, the original Sailor Moon, stuff she remembered fondly as a little girl).

Movie nights are frequent in the Tachibana-Muller household, with everyone taking turns.

When Tomoe did fall pregnant with their son finally, she was excited, nervous, terrified. She was just… so looking forward to meeting him.

Oddly enough, she didn’t have much in the ways of severe symptoms. She was one of the lucky ones, who didn’t deal with morning sickness and she worked a good deal of the way into her pregnancy.

Erhard came home from work, quite a bit to find his wife and daughter fast asleep, with Rizabelle having her ear pressed to her mom’s stomach trying to hear what her new sibling was up to.

He has a lot of pictures of those times.

Tomoe is… VERY protective of her kids. Rizabelle got pushed and almost punished in the third grade, because it counted as a “fight”.

That was the last time, someone messed with a Tachibana child, as Tomoe went NUCLEAR. (Erhard took a step back and focused on making sure Rizabelle was alright).

No one ever picked on the Muller kids again after that.

Tomoe intimidates the other moms just as much as Naomi and… she honestly doesn’t care. As far as she’s concerned, if they don’t like how she raises her children, they can keep their opinions to themselves.

She admits, she’s a little lost sometimes initially and wishes she could ask her own mother for advice.. But she picks herself up and keeps going. (And asks for advice a LOT from Lisa and Naomi at the start. She realized very quickly to not worry so much since as long as their kids were eating enough, sleeping enough, ect then she couldn’t really mess up)

Lisa Cunningham

Lisa wanted to be a mom, ever since she could remember. When she fell in love with Gabriel, the first thing she warned him was that she did want kids and if he didn’t, then she would let him go right then and there, during their first date.

Luckily he agreed… When they had Joshua, it was still when Gabe was in the reserves. She quickly got on with the other military moms, who all had husbands in the same program as Gabe was. They got along pretty nicely and frequently lamented how often their husbands were busy.

Gabe only had to report to training so many times, never deployed. She still held things together though, when he needed her to.

They lived in California for part of Joshua’s life, before moving to Portland. Both are actually from Portland, but due to Gabe’s work lived in Cali for awhile. She misses it… especially when it’s cold.

When she first became pregnant with Joshua, she was mostly exhausted all the time… and mostly cried at stuff, when her hormones got to her. She could never remember actually being mad. (And Gabe would agree. He just felt bad when she was having a hard time.. And he also wishes he could forget some of the cravings. (“Who the heck dips pickles in peanut butter? For the matter, how many jars of those did you even eat!?” “Your son, wanted them.”)

They had a few names picked out but Joshua was the one they both liked the best. (It’s actually Gabe’s middle name, since he didn’t wanna saddle the kid with being “Gabe Jr.”, Lisa thought it was sweet… and it’s actually a family name, since it was also Gabe’s grandfather’s first name.)

They had some trouble deciding on a middle name though. It was a week long debate, over dinner because both wanted Joshua to have one of his grandfather’s names as a middle name.

They literally had this discussion until Joshua was born.

They settled on Joshua Thomas Cunningham… Neither grandfather's name won. Instead, Joshua’s named after one of the members of the band Styx, Tommy Shaw (Gabe’s favorite band EVER)

Joshua was a C-section baby. He was in distress and they both agreed it was best to just get him out ASAP. (Lisa was honestly terrified and tried to put on a brave face. Gabe stayed by her side the whole time. She can look back on it with humor nowadays though. “He didn’t want a squished head. He was already fluffy thanks to his dad here.” “Hey!”)

Lisa’s a doting mother on Joshua. Loves her baby more than anything else and does whatever she can for him… even if for part of his life, Gabe wasn’t in it.

They are very, very close due to this. Joshua wants his mom happy and does his best hoping not to worry her… even if she still worries like crazy.

They have tried to reconcile several times, meeting privately and talking over the course of the last year or so.

She was mentally burnt out by the time the outbreak had ended. She was so stressed out, it took a toll on her. She and Gabe were together again by this point and… yeah. It was rough. She was having trouble relaxing, neither were sleeping well.

Gabe declared they needed a vacation and they headed to California for two weeks.

Lisa… honestly gets a kick out of the fact, she gets asked for advice from one of Gabe’s old friends, about parenting… and happily will offer it if it’s wanted

A year later, they have another child, their daughter Terry… this time, everything goes nice and smooth and Lisa thanks her lucky stars it went just as planned.

She’s a loving dedicated mother and will do anything for her kids and husband.

While being married to Gabe wasn’t easy at times… she is glad they were able to work it out. (Though she gave him SUCH a look when someone at Resurgam said: “Didn’t you say you were gonna divorce her?”

“Oh please, he wouldn’t survive without me.”

“It’s true.”)

They both have had to put a lot of work into making their marriage work but it’s worth every second.

Angie Thompson

Angie and Derek’s first kid came along exactly 9 months after they got married. They really wanted a family of their own. They were blessed with their first daughter, Luna Stiles.

Derek has quite a few photo’s and notes from over the course of that particular pregnancy, to put in Luna’s baby book later…. Including some of the sillier things. (“Please tell me you didn’t take pictures of that time I cried because you made me eggs with a bacon smile.”

“Noooooo. NOOOOO never….” He did. He got a smack on the arm for it later. It was worth it.)

Angie, didn’t work in the OR at all during this. They worked with too many potential hazards and the smell of the disinfectants made her morning sickness act up BIG TIME. She instead, worked directly with the patients for most of it.

Derek spoiled her rotten and made sure to do as much as he could to make it easier for her… Including, overhauling paperwork duty for them both. (And later realized, he may have made a mistake as Angie now calls him on it every time. “What? Do we need another kid to make you do it on time again!?”

“A-Angie!!!”)

Angie and Derek both agreed, they didn’t want a lot of prying when it came to their children coming into the world. She quietly checked into Hope Hospital and after a long, LONG night… Luna was born and they couldn’t be happier.

Two years later, they were blessed with a little boy, named Glenn.

Angie dotes on them both equally. She was just so happy they were finally here, safe and sound… healthy…

Glenn is a mama’s boy. He happily will cling to her leg when she gets home from work, or if she brings them to work for a bit. He loves spending time with her and getting to know more about her job.

Her favorite part of her day is coming home to their kids and getting to enjoy their evenings with them… or mornings, depending on the shift. Either way, it’s her favorite part.

Angie and Derek both have days where they take one of the kids with them to do an activity solo with that particular parent, along with family outings all together. That way, they get some one on one time along with full out family time. (Derek’s forbidden Disneyland as a “solo parent activity” cause deep down he’s a big kid at heart who loves going just as much)

During the earlier parts of their kids lives, they lived in a few different areas, due to work reasons. They got to see quite a bit of the world before the age of ten, but were very happy to go back home for good. It was around when Luna was 6 and Glenn was 4 that they decided no more international medical work unless absolutely necessary. (“As in, we better be the last ones called.”)

Nap piles are a must. She didn’t understand initially the appeal of mid day naps before she and Derek got together… She admits, there is now nothing better than, taking a midday snooze, her kids her husband all together with her in their big queen sized bed.

Angie is a total helicopter mom when her kids are sick. She’s on top of everything… Derek’s involved with it too, but he’s mainly reminding Angie that they’ll be fine. He’s actually the calm one.

Angie is a member of the now unofficial “Moms who aren’t liked by the other moms at school” club, with Tomoe and Naomi. It’s more to do with the fact Angie gets recognized from being in the news so often… More so because she refused to give free medical advice.

(“They do know, I’m not allowed to do that right?”

“I got snubbed for not freaking out over Alyssa falling.”

“They were afraid of me.”)

No matter what, she wouldn’t change a single thing.

#Trauma Center #Trauma Team #Cybil Meyers #Angie Thompson #Tomoe Tachibbana #Naomi Kimishima #mothers day

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