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The Night Moves | Part Five

The Night Moves Masterlist

Alternate Universe

Vampire Hunterl!Bradley Bradshaw x Female Reader

Summary: An internship with the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History should have been the highlight of your academic career. The perfect addition to your resume while you worked on your doctoral thesis. An interdepartmental assignment, however, sees your reality ripped apart by incomprehensible forces. Five tumultuous days will leave you forever changed and inextricably linked to two men born centuries apart.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Discussion of Violence, Blood, Discussion of Serious Reader Injury, Hospitals, Psychiatrists, Supernatural Themes, Historical Inaccuracies, Institutional Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [fingering, hand job, oral sex, protected sex] - 18+ Only

Author's Note: Late update is VERY LATE. I am extremely sorry, but here is the final chapter! Thank you very much for your patience!

Word Count: 4671

-------------------------

-Saturday-

The faint murmur of activity – a medley of rustling paper, footsteps, low voices, and a distantly ringing phone – greeted your return to consciousness. Blinking reluctant and blurry eyes open to the sight of a private room in some emergency department, you swallowed dryly as your eyes took in the sterile surroundings. The crimson blood flowing from the bag marked ‘O–’ through clear tubing into the I.V. buried in the back of your hand, the worn hospital gown that had replaced your borrowed dress, the flannel hospital blanket draped over your lower body, the scratch of the nasal cannula as it delivered extra oxygen, the claustrophobic feeling of the pulse oximeter on your index finger.

 The large man perched on the chair beside your hospital bed flipping through your notebook.

You still felt weak, improved since the last time you had been awake, but by no means yourself just yet. However, it seemed that Bradley Bradshaw had delivered you into the hands of medical professionals in time to save you from your bad decisions. Your gaze remained snagged on his hands as they cradled the pages of your frantic scribblings and you stared silently. You were aware that you really ought to speak, to confirm your return to the land of the living, but you were truly uncertain where to begin. An apology? An explanation? An expression of gratitude? An inquiry about how he had found you?

He saved you the trouble of making that decision by speaking first.

“The man in this story died the night they changed him.” He murmured without raising his head, making you jump and look to your own hands quickly.

“How…how did you find me…” You croaked out, summoning your language skills at last.

“When you didn’t come out of that party, the one you maybe forgot to tell me about, with your coworker, I got worried. Unfortunately, I had to resort to more mundane methods such as showing your picture around and bribing the front desk clerk. It took a lot of time. A story about my cousin entangled in some sordid situation proved quite effective once I found the right hotel.” Bradley explained without looking up before lifting his phone to snap a photo of the last page in your notebook.

You crinkled your brows in confusion just as a burning itch erupted from the flesh of your inner thigh and your hand shot reflexively beneath the blanket only to find a bandage covering your target. “Fuck why are they so damn itchy.” You hissed and screwed your eyes shut, shifting back to grip the rails of the bed in an attempt to distract yourself.

“There was effectively a man-sized mosquito between your thighs; it’s the enzymes from his saliva.” He replied, snapping your notebook shut firmly.

The sharpness of his words, punctuated by the sound of the pages colliding together firmly, flooded your eyes with tears. “Bradley I…I’m so sorry.” Your voice wobbled treacherously as the tears gathered at your lash line before spilling down your cheeks.

You watched, features painted with the guilt that wracked your body, as he rose to his feet with a sigh, grabbing your bag from a hook on the wall and sliding the book inside. He grabbed his jacket from the hook beside it and slung it onto his shoulders in a fluid, practiced movement.

“You were in his thrall.” He replied, at last, with a shake of his head, looking in your general direction but not at you. The statement was delivered flatly, almost clinical. “Glad you’re awake now, and safe.”

“Safe…” You exhaled, not really certain you believed it to be quite so simple. “But he…bit me I’m not…going to become a. A…” for some reason you were incapable of speaking the word. “…like him?”

His eyes narrowed, hands planting on his hips as he addressed your right shoulder. “Did he feed you his blood?”

“No. No he didn’t.” You replied quickly, shaking your head.

“Then it won’t happen.” He nodded, posture relaxing. “I told the staff it was a kink thing gone wrong. The police have Jacob’s description and his coat from your hotel room. Take care.”

You blinked, swallowing tightly. “You’re leaving.” Your voice felt strangled in your throat as you finally processed his actions.

“Job’s done.” He nodded, finally meeting your eyes with a breathtakingly fragile gaze for a fraction of a second before turning to stride out of the room.

A faint noise of protest fell from your lips, and you tried to extract yourself from the blanket, only to find yourself hopelessly tangled in tubes and wires. Your nurse Camille, who was already making her way to the room to check on you, hustled the last few steps to push you back into bed, gently chastising you for trying to get up. Effectively thwarting any attempt you might have made at stopping Bradley Bradshaw from walking out of your life.

You spent the rest of that night in the hospital, unable to stem the steady flow of tears from your eyes as, after being reunited with your phone, your calls and texts to what was once Bradley’s number went unanswered. You received two blood transfusions and a referral to a psychologist for all that you had gotten entangled with. From their perspective, the police believed you had been assaulted by a murder suspect carrying the coat of one of his many victims, before leaving you for dead in a hotel room. It was only thanks to the heroic efforts of your now-absent cousin that you had survived said encounter. Knowing it would come to nothing, you provided them with Jacob’s full name and description, fully aware that it would be impossible for them to locate a vampire who was now a pile of dust.

You felt utterly absurd when you were discharged the next morning, stepping out into the weak autumn sunshine in a floor-length gown and ruined make-up. Mercifully, the cab driver was more focused on arguing with the person on the other end of their phone call and only paid attention to your destination and the hefty fare you owed him. At least your hospital bill had been paid – yet another thing you owed the departed Bradley Bradshaw and his mysterious community of vampire hunters.

The rest of the day was miserable, spent in bed after a careful shower, eating packaged soup from your cupboard. The next day was slightly better. Each day that passed thereafter was somewhat less painful than the one before. You attended your weekly appointments with the psychologist begrudgingly at first but gradually found them a rather useful outlet to process all that you had endured. After nearly a month, you gathered the courage to open the notebook once more.

It was then that the topic of your doctoral thesis came to you, something you had been trying to determine for several months by that point. The proposal to study the ledger found with the still-missing missing remains of an ‘unknown continental soldier’ was very well received by both your faculty advisor and your supervisor at the Smithsonian. It provided a goal, a focus, a purpose that only added to your forward momentum. Eventually you stopped counting the days from when Bradley left, allowing time to simply pass according to the calendar on the wall as it always had.

------------

-Mid December-

The first snowfall of the year had begun the night before and you had opened the blinds to a world cloaked in white. It was hard to deny the festive feeling it awoke within you, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked out over the courtyard. Donning your winter coat, brand new scarf, and a pair of mittens, you headed across the main road. When picking up your groceries a few days ago, you had noticed the outdoor planters of spruce, cedar, birch branches, and pinecones they had for sale. And with the change in the weather, you could not help but think one would be the perfect seasonal addition to your balcony.

The selection was significantly reduced since the last time you had been at the store, but you were still able to purchase an attractive option. With your task accomplished, you made your way back towards the apartment complex, unable to stop your grin at the sound of the accumulated snow scrunching beneath your boots as fresh fluffy flakes had begun to swirl through the air once more. Hefting the planter higher against your body, you were grateful it was not much further to your building as your arms began to ache. But the sight of Bradley Bradshaw leaning against the back of his Bronco parked beside the door to your building had your grip on it faltering.

“Bradley?” You breathed in confusion, hugging the fragrant arrangement closer to your body as you walked closer to him slowly.

He straightened to his full height, tugging at his suede jacket as he murmured your name in greeting. The dusting of snow that had gathered on his shoulders scattered to the ground. “I… Uh just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing ok.” He shuffled his feet slightly, the tips of his ears and nose nipped pink by the cold.

The rasp of his voice made you gulp as you had so diligently made your peace with the fact that you would never see him again and yet here he was, freezing his extremities off in your parking lot. “Come inside, I’ll make you a hot drink to warm up.” You swallowed – it was the least you could do after all that he had done for you.

He looked you over a moment, considering, until you shifted the heavy planter in your grip once more. He stepped forward and took it from you carefully, nodding. “Ok…yeah.”

Relinquishing your burden gratefully, you smiled a little at his acceptance before leading him inside, brushing the snow from your hair and jacket before stepping into your apartment. Kicking off your boots, you guided him over the sliding doors, reaching to take the planter from his hands to set out on the balcony. The scent of sandalwood still clung to him, as it had the first night you had quite literally run into him, and it frankly made your mouth water. You tugged the arrangement from his hands and dashed out onto the cold concrete in your sock- feet to set it down, desperate to regain control of your senses.

Hurrying back inside, you brushed past him on your way to the kitchen to fill your electric kettle with water from the tap, flicking the switch to set it to boil. You could feel him standing behind you, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over the back of a dining chair. Your mind was groping wildly for something, anything to say, taking you right back to that Saturday morning when you awoken in a hospital bed. But no words seemed to sufficiently encapsulate everything you were feeling in that moment. The gratitude for all that he had done to protect you, to keep you alive. The regret for your actions when under Jacob’s thrall. But most importantly, everything that you felt for Bradley himself.

Inhaling sharply through your nose you turned towards him, swallowing thickly as he was a lot closer than you had assumed. Steeling your nerve, you stepped forward and grasped his face in both hands, pressing your lips to his firmly, finding it easier to express things this way rather than with unreliable words. For a few heart-stopping seconds there was no response. Bradley simply stood there, still as a statue. You were about to draw back, concerned you had made a horrible mistake, when his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Delight and warmth flooded through you, making you gasp softly.

Taking advantage of your parted lips, his tongue licked into your mouth teasingly. Pressing closer, you slid your arms around his neck, delving your fingers into his hair. He backed you up against the counter, a rumble of pleasure erupting from his throat as his grip tightened around you, his kiss turning fierce. Emboldened, you tugged at his curls, earning a growl as he dug his fingers into your hips and hoisted you against his body, wrapping your legs around his hips before blindly shuffling his away out of the kitchen and down the hall towards your bedroom.

Shifting your lips to trail down along the scars on his cheek to his jaw, you allowed him the use of his eyes in the hopes of preventing bruises on either of your bodies. Setting you on the duvet, he smoothed your hair from your face tenderly before reaching for the hem of your shirt, tilting his head in silent question. You nodded and raised your arms, allowing him to peel the garment from your body before he tossed it in the general direction of the bench at the end of your bed.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart…” He rasped and surged forward to seize your lips in a heated kiss once more, pressing you back into the bed beneath him.

Your hands fisted in the front of his plaid shirt, heart fairly exploding beneath your ribcage as that nickname reached your ears. Frantically, your fingers your fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to run your hands along the warmth of his skin. Under the onslaught of his mouth against yours, however, your progress proved painfully slow, and after only a few buttons were undone he grew impatient, sitting back on his heels to remove the offending fabric before immediately latching his lips to your neck.

Arching your back to eagerly bare more of your flesh to him, you moaned softly as your hands glided along his skin, happily claiming your prize. He sighed warmly as he settled between your thighs, and you gripped his hips tightly with your legs, pulling him closer. His hips instinctively rocked into yours, your fingers curling into his muscled shoulders as you mewled in response. Mouth covering yours once more, Bradley kissed you hungrily as he rutted his hardening length against the seam of your pants. It was a mixture of bliss and pure torture that had you writhing beneath him, desperate to be rid of the barriers between you.

He eased your torment as his right hand slid over the cup of your bra, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric as he manipulated your tender flesh, making you press into his touch greedily. Sitting back on his heels once more, you whimpered in protest at the rush of cold air that replaced his body heat. He merely smirked in response, hands slipping beneath your back to unfasten your bra before stripping it from your body as well. His warm, wet mouth quickly covered one nipple while his palm tended to the other, goose bumps rippling across your skin as your hands tugged at his curls with another eager groan.

Insistently, you rocked your hips up against his, shuddering as his answering groan echoed through your chest. His hand moved to work at the fastening of your pants before they were tugged off your body to join the growing pile of clothes.

You worried your lower lip between your teeth, engaged in your own struggle with the fly of his jeans.

He tsked his tongue against his teeth before running it along his bottom lip as he watched you before his eyes honed in on the last article of clothing hiding you from his sight. “Don’t hurt yourself…” He rumbled, one hand planting beside your head to lean in and pull your lower lip between his lips to soothe it as he cupped you over your panties.

Bucking your hips needily, you yanked on his zipper before your hand dove past the waistband to press against his erection through the thin barrier of his boxers.

“Fuck.” He grunted against your lips, fingertips pressing the fabric of your underwear against your clit, dragging it across the sensitive bundle of nerves as he moved his digits in a circular motion that made it very difficult to keep your eyes open.

“Bradley…” You panted, doing your best to match his pace with your own hand, to respond to every bit of pleasure in kind.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He grinned, the moustache adorning his upper lip only amplifying the confident slant of his mouth.

“Mm! More.” You insisted, arching as he alternated the pressure against your clit.

A quick, firm kiss was his response before he pulled back to remove the last few items of clothing from your bodies. You smiled warmly before wrapping your fingers around his cock in gratitude. You swallowed thickly at the way his breath picked up, and the muscles of his abdomen fluttered in response. Frustratingly, he began to slide back off the side of the bed, out of your reach as he tugged you closer to drape your legs over his shoulders.

Pressing alternating kisses to the inside of your legs, he began to ascend higher up your calves to your thighs before he paused at the two raised marks left from your final encounter with Jacob. You tensed, afraid to exhale, afraid of what he was thinking as he was confronted with a physical reminder of all that had transpired. The feel of his soft lips pressing against your scars, contrasted by the bristling of his moustache against the skin above, had you exhaling slowly, eyelids sliding shut in relief as a few tears seeped from the corners of your eyes and down along your temples.

Forgiveness.

Following the movement quickly with the heat of his tongue stroking against that same patch of flesh, Bradley had your hips levitating with not-so-subtle guidance towards where you were aching for his attention. He hummed in sympathy, settling between your thighs properly as he draped his forearm across your pelvis to still your squirming body before his tongue delved between your folds.

“Fuck…” It was your turn to curse as the breath shuddered from your lungs.

Knees hooked over his shoulders, you pressed your heels into his back, greedily pressing him closer as he used his lips and tongue with purpose. Latching onto your clit with gentle sucking pressure, Bradley eased his index finger into your slick warmth.

“Ahn!” You cried out, bucking against his hold as you fisted the duvet viciously.

Forcing your heavy eyelids open, you licked your lips at the sight of his dark eyes watching you hungrily, your legs framing his face. He grinned against you, eyes crinkling at the corners, and paused a moment to pull one of your hands from the duvet to plant your grasping fingers on his head. Threading your fingers into the chestnut strands, you shuddered as he slid a second finger in to join the first, tightening your grip on him. He groaned against you, the sound reverberating through your body and making you clench around his digits.

“Bradley!” You whimpered and undulated your hips against his face, eliciting another growl from the man.

The cycle was endless, the reactions you each pulled from one another increasing in intensity until you were quivering on the precipice of climax. The stretch of the addition of his third finger was all it took to send you soaring over the edge, thighs clutching the sides of his face as you wailed in pleasure. He pulled back from your clit to avoid overstimulation, focusing on working his fingers inside you and devouring your release hungrily, surfacing only once your heaving breaths began to even out.

You looked to him with glassy eyes, swallowing tightly at the flush of his cheeks, the remainder of your slick on his mustache. Using the hand still firmly burrowed in his hair, you tugged him closer to kiss him deeply, shivering at the taste of yourself on his tongue. The press of his length, thick and heavy against your thigh brought with it renewed clarity.

Shifting to press your skin against his eager flesh teasingly, he shuddered hungrily, pulling back to murmur against your lips, “just a sec…” before sliding from the bed to rummage through his discarded jeans. Returning quickly, your nipples pebbled in the cool air left in absence, your eyes flickered to the reflective foil square in his hand.

Grinning fondly, you pushed yourself up to sitting, snatching it from his fingers and carefully tearing it open. Taking the opportunity to wrap your fingers around his cock, you stroked along him teasingly, reveling in the way he pressed his mouth against your temple, hot breaths fanning across your face as his fingers gripped your shoulders tightly. Growing desperate to feel him inside you, you methodically rolled the latex down his length before gasping as he dropped one hand to grasp your hip and bodily move you to lay against the pillows. You may never become accustomed to his supernatural strength, but you certainly wouldn’t mind trying.

As soon as Bradley was within reach once more, your arms snaked around his neck, pulling his lips to yours hungrily as you spread your legs welcoming. The feel of the head of his cock sliding through your folds, gathering the residual slick from your orgasm, teasing your engorged clit, had you whimpering into his mouth and pressing closer, insistently. With a breathy laugh and roll of his hips at last he began to sink into you, making your eyes roll back into your head at the delicious stretch of him.

His head nestled snuggly against your neck once he was seated fully inside you, pelvis flush against yours. “Fuck, sweetheart…” He rasped, voice roughened further than usual by pleasure.

“Yes…” You exhaled. “please…”

Nipping at the crook of your shoulder in response, he rolled his hips forward, pulling a groan from deep within you. Lifting his head, eyes drinking in your reaction, he repeated the action before surging forward to swallow your noise of pleasure, hips pulling back only to snap forward and sink back into your welcoming warmth once more. Your fingers gripped the nape of his neck, your other hand once more working its way into his hair as he truly seemed to enjoy having it there as your hips bucked to meet each of his thrusts. Shifting his weight onto his left forearm, you tugged your lips back from his with a cry as the fingers of his right hand slid between your bodies to circle your clit teasingly.

“Feel so good, sweetheart.” He panted against your cheekbone.

All you could manage was a moan in reply, wrapping your legs around his hips to draw him closer, deeper. He grunted roughly at the change in angle, sliding his teeth along your earlobe as the whiskers on his upper lip teased your skin simultaneously. Your nails dug into his skin carelessly as you began to flutter around his cock.

“Go on sweetheart, cum for me.” He groaned and you whimpered, arching tighter to him as your climax was almost there, within reach.

“B..brad..” you began to stutter before his hips collided with yours, rocking forward tightly and shattering the last barrier, hurtling you into orgasm with a wail of the last syllable of his name. “…leeeey!”

You were vaguely aware of the string of curses he growled into your ear as his hips fought to maintain their rhythm, thrusting through the spasms of your body as he chased his own release before his face was pressed against your collarbone to muffle a choked off cry. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he filled its protective sheath, a sheen of sweat covering his body as his chest heaved against yours. Easing your tense grip on him, you caressed his shoulders warmly as he slowly regained control of his breathing before lifting his head to meet your eyes warmly.

Pressing your lips to his warmly, you couldn’t help the airy laughter that tumbled from your lips as his mouth pressed gentle kisses across your cheeks and brow, tickling you with his moustache in the process. Pulling back reluctantly, he slid to his feet, ambling his way to the washroom before returning with a warm washcloth, condom disposed of. Once you were properly taken care of, he manoeuvred the pair of you beneath the of the duvet, pulling you close into his arms.

“I’m plenty warm now, thank you.” He grinned against your cheek, and you could not help the bark of laughter in response.

“Guess I never did make you that drink, did I?” You sighed sheepishly.

“While we’re on the subject of things we were supposed to do…” He shifted back to meet your eyes with a more serious gaze, making you swallow reflexively. “I never once saw you as just an assignment – no matter how damn hard I tried. I meant it when I said you ‘distracted’ me…more like you took over my whole brain.” You found yourself holding your breath as he spoke, so entirely focused on every word, every micro-expression that flitted across his features as he spoke. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you plowed into me.”

Your lips twitched fondly in memory as your hand slid to cup the side of his head, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. “I was too blinded by everything happening, but after you left that hospital room, I realised how badly I had fucked it all up and I…” You spoke until the last bit of air in your lungs ran out and took a deep breath as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “…thank you for coming back.” You swallowed. “I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

His fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck, tugging you closer to kiss you firmly. “Not getting rid of me now.” He mumbled against your lips prompting you to slide your arms around him tightly and kiss him deeply until you were forced to part from his lips to catch your breath again. He shifted onto his back, guiding you gently to lay across his chest as his fingers stroked against the skin of your shoulder. “‘sides I also came with a proposition…”

“Well, if it was to get me into bed…” You grinned, listening the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

He replied with a raspy chuckle. “No sweetheart I…well leadership was thoroughly impressed with your notes from your…interview. And seeing as we’ve been down a historian since the fire in Virginia, they wanted me to test your openness to recruitment.”

Your eyes widened as you lifted your headed to face him. “Recruit me. But I did a terrible job of being around a vampire…I’m only alive because of you.”

“Your instincts are good, you just need more training. Think about it.” He replied as his fingertips trailed along your jaw.

Eyeing him thoughtfully, you nodded as your mind began to consider the offer almost immediately. “I will, Bradley. I honestly will. I would have to finish my thesis, but after that I will be looking for employment.”

He grinned broadly. “Would the fact that we would get to work together often assist you with your decision making? We lost a lot of records that night and once you’re trained, you’ll need someone to go on fact finding missions with you.”

You bit your lip as the whole idea was becoming more and more attractive. “Seriously considering it, Bradley.” You tapped his nose, mouth falling open with a squeak as his teeth surged up to capture your fingertip gently.

Effortlessly, he flipped and pinned you beneath him before slinking back beneath the duvet to seal his mouth over your core. You truly never would grow accustomed to the supernatural strength and stamina he had been born with as a vampire hunter, but it certainly did not stop you from trying as often as possible.

-------------------------

The Night Moves Masterlist

Tag list: @moonyinthestars, @roger-that-cap, @gaminffnerd, @blckgrl-sunflower

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[autobot2001]

Cooking Accident?

@mediwhumpmay Day 1; I.V. & Cannula @themerrywhumpofmay Day  1; kitchen (Snippet from Hidden Killer) Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warnings: attempted murder, knife

Shirley Thomas walks into her home. It's sux at night when she walks into the house after unlocking the door and walks into the dark house. "Hello, Shirley," a man's voice greets once the lights are turned on. The female panics, drops her purse and rushes into the kitchen. Knowing the man is following her.

Shirley tries to get the utility knife from the drawer, but the man beats her to the drawer. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks. Shirley watches, horrified, as the man opens the drawer and searches for a knife without taking his eyes off her, "You deserve to die for ruining my life! "Eight years wasn't enough! I'll never understand, bow the judge thought eight years was enough!" "That's what the media was told! I was sent to a mental hospital that runs like an asylum! You know, like those that operated until the nineties."

"911, what's your emergency?" "My next-door neighbor is screaming. I know she lives alone, and this doesn't sound like screaming from excitement." "Dispatching help now. Stay in your house."

Prowl doesn't respond to murders in the city, and he would help with investigations, but something seemed different this time. He doesn't know why, but he informs the Chief he'll be at the scene.

The officers are horrified at what they're seeing. So much blood on the floor; they're amazed the female is alive, but barely. The medics rush to get the female into the ambulance. Not believing they can stabilize her before transport. "The murder weapon is a utility knife," an officer comments and bags the knife. "Most of the murders have been with a gun," the Chief comments. Prowl knows this isn't enough proof to argue the Holiday Killer is back, but for some reason, he believes that's who — hopefully failed to — killed the femme.

Shirley wakes up, taking a few seconds to realize they're in the hospital. An I.V. in their arm, and realizing they're on a ventilator. Before they can examine themselves, a doctor walks into the room with an officer. "Ma'am, you have been stabbed in the abdomen and found unconscious in the kitchen. You've been in a coma for a week. Let me examine if you're ready for that to be removed."

Shirley is off the ventilator within four days and ready to answer questions. "We're trying to figure out what happened," the officer tells her. "I was cooking dinner." "Cooking dinner?" The doctor, clearly not believing the story, "ok then, how did you stab yourself and end up unconscious?" "Also, there was no evidence of cooking or food prep," the officer adds, "if you believe your attacker will not be pleased knowing you're not dead, we can keep you safe, and this adds to why you need to tell us what happened." "He's my ex, Austin Knight. I am the one who got his ass arrested and sent to prison. He claims he was sent to a mental hospital that's like an asylum." Both men are horrified. While murders in the city are a problem, it was a nightmare when the Holiday Killer started killing.

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[myivcannula]

IV Cannula vs IV Catheter: Understanding the Differences

In the medical field, intravenous (IV) access is a fundamental procedure used for administering fluids, medications, and blood products directly into the bloodstream. Two common devices used for this purpose are the IV cannula and the IV catheter. While these terms are often used interchangeably, they refer to different types of medical devices, each with its unique characteristics and applications. Understanding these differences is crucial for medical professionals to ensure appropriate use in patient care.

IV Cannula

An IV cannula, often simply referred to as a cannula, is a small, flexible tube that is inserted into a vein to provide access for intravenous therapy. Typically made of plastic, an IV cannula consists of a hollow needle with a thin, flexible tube that remains in the vein once the needle is withdrawn. The primary function of an IV cannula is to serve as a conduit for the infusion of fluids and medications.

IV cannulas are categorized by size, which is determined by the gauge of the needle. Sizes range from 14 gauge (large) to 24 gauge (small), with smaller gauges being used for patients with smaller veins or for less viscous fluids. The choice of size depends on the specific needs of the patient and the type of therapy being administered.

IV Catheter

On the other hand, an IV catheter is a broader term that encompasses various types of devices used for intravenous access. It refers to any tube or catheter inserted into a vein to administer fluids or medications. Unlike an IV cannula, which specifically denotes a device with a needle that is withdrawn, an IV catheter may include devices such as central lines, peripheral lines, and other specialized access tools.

IV catheters can be categorized based on their insertion site and purpose. For instance, peripheral IV catheters are inserted into veins in the arms or hands and are typically used for short-term therapy. Central venous catheters, inserted into larger veins like the jugular or subclavian veins, are used for long-term treatments or for administering medications that require central circulation.

Key Differences

1.     Design and Insertion: An I.V. cannula is designed with a needle that is removed once the device is in place, leaving a thin, flexible tube for infusion. An IV catheter, in contrast, may include a broader range of devices, including those that remain in place with various anchoring systems.

2.     Application: IV cannulas are generally used for short-term access and are commonly found in emergency or routine medical procedures. IV catheters, due to their variety, can be used for both short-term and long-term access, depending on the specific needs of the treatment.

3.     Types and Sizes: While IV cannulas are categorized mainly by gauge size, IV catheters include a wider range of designs and insertion sites. This makes IV catheters more versatile for different medical needs, from simple infusions to complex central venous access.

4.     Duration of Use: IV cannulas are usually used for short durations, such as during a hospital stay or for specific procedures. IV catheters, especially central lines, can be used for extended periods, such as for ongoing treatments in chronic conditions.

Denex International: Leading the Way in IV Access Solutions

When it comes to high-quality IV access devices, Denex International stands out as a premier IV Cannula Manufacturer and IV Catheter Manufacturer in India. With a commitment to excellence and innovation, Denex International produces a range of IV cannulas and IV catheters designed to meet the highest standards of safety and efficacy.

Their products are engineered to ensure ease of use, reliability, and patient comfort, adhering to stringent quality controls and regulatory standards. Whether you are seeking an Ivcannula for routine infusions or a specialized IV catheter for complex treatments, Denex International provides solutions that healthcare professionals can trust.

In summary, while both IV cannulas and IV catheters serve the essential function of intravenous access, they differ in design, application, and usage duration. Understanding these differences helps in selecting the appropriate device for each patient’s needs. For top-quality IV access devices, Denex International remains a leading choice, delivering products that support effective and safe medical care.

Contact Details

Name- Denex International

Phone- 0124 4115465

Email- info@ivcannula.com

[detectivecarlosreyes]

I can’t imagine my life without you 

Ao3 | 6.3k | Rated: Teens | Established tarlos, time travel (sort of), angst with a happy ending. 

Summary:  What would you do if you’d woken up in the past as if the last 2 years had never happened? That’s what happened to TK. He went from being happy and in love with Carlos, hitting his stride as a paramedic, having found his place in life with the 126, only to wake in the hospital back in New York, But things are not as they seem

For @jamieetartt  Sorry, it's taken so long, love you to the moon and back and hope that you enjoy this belated birthday present 💖💖

Your eyes give life a new meaning It's like I found the north light I never knew what I needed Until I felt your hand holding mine, yeah

There were a lot of things that TK wasn’t sure of in his life but one thing he knew for sure was how in love he is with one Carlos Reyes. He once thought he knew what love was, but it was nothing in comparison to how much he loved his boyfriend.

When they had met, he was lost, adrift, unable to see any life or colour in his life. Picking fights just to be able to feel something without relapsing into a world that he had tried to leave behind. It was a tenuous lifestyle one filled with a lot of action and yet still too much time for his mind to wander and affect his personal life.

And then he had met Carlos, and life seemed to fall into place. Of course, it took him longer than it should have to understand what was right there in front of him. A man who was willing to love him for all his faults and misgivings in a way that he never truly understood up until that point.

Life seemed to be perfect, or at least he thought it was, with him finally looking to the future, eyes wide open and in technicolour, right up until the point that he woke up in the hospital. One that he recognised.

The only problem being is that it was in New York.

And he hadn’t been in New York for 2 years, not since he’d moved to Austin.

TK gathered his bearings, confusion washing over him as a knotted ball of wrongness settled deeply in his gut. It had been a long time since he’d been in this hospital, but it was recognisable enough for him not to mistake it for anything but the one he had been to in New York. The seats by the bedside were wrong, as too was the entryway to the room that he was in.

And with that recognition of where he was, so to came the panic that came with it of how he got there. TK could hear his heart rate monitor pick up speed as he tried to comprehend his circumstances, belatedly noticing that he had drip attached to one arm and a nasal cannula wrapped around his face which didn’t help matters when he jostled both.

His increased heart rate alerted the nurses nearby and before long a flurry of voices were telling him to calm down, to breathe. It took some effort and eventually he was able to take long deep breaths, settling back against the overly soft pillows behind him.

He asked one of the nurses about his dad, as the man checked the I.V. ensuring that it hadn’t been jostled by the activity and was told that his dad had been contacted that he was awake. He didn’t get much more information than that.

The light from outside changed from morning sunlight to an afternoon glow as he waited for his dad to arrive, to come and explain how he had ended up there. The last thing that he could remember was walking with Carlos.

Carlos!

TK felt his heartbeat spike once again, pulsating in his ears as he recalled his boyfriend. How could he have forgotten? He and Carlos had been walking together, fingers intertwined as they strolled along one of the bridges that crossed the Colorado River. But that was the last memory he had before waking in this hospital bed.

Where was Carlos? Why was he here?

The two questions continued to swirl around and around in his head. Multiple scenarios were created to answer them, but none made enough sense to be true. So they remained unanswered. Unanswered until his dad arrived some hours later, still smelling strongly of smoke and dressed in his undershirt and pants as if he’d just come off a call.

“I came as soon as I could,” Owen said hurriedly as he strode to his bedside and engulfed him in a smoke-scented hug. TK let him. Let him take his time in the embrace before parting.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out to ask the question that has been on his tongue, he swallowed them as he took in his dad’s uniform. “Why are you wearing an NYFD shirt?”

“What do you mean ‘why am I wearing my NYFD shirt’? In case you have forgotten that’s who we work for.”

“What I mean is why aren’t you wearing your Austin Fire shirt?”

“My Austin Fire...?” Owen drew out the question trying to make sense of what TK meant, “TK what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that we’ve been working in Austin for the past 2 years on, and now, for some reason, we’re back in New York and you’re working here again.”

“TK I don’t know what you’re going on about, we’ve never left New York, you know that.” Owen looked at him as if he’d grown a third arm, “I was offered a job in Austin, but I didn’t accept it, but how could you have possibly known that?”

It was too much. It was all too much. What his dad was saying didn’t make any sense. They had moved to New York soon after he’d overdosed after breaking it off with Alex. Had he gone back in time? How was that even possible? There was only one way to be sure.

“Dad. Why exactly am I here?” TK asked as the thought formed.

Owen sighed and sat on the end of his bed as if he were about to break the worst kind of news, “You overdosed TK. We found you in your apartment. You were on the floor and not breathing. We got you back with Narcan and you woke up for a short while before falling unconscious. You’ve been asleep for the past 4 days.”

TK jolted at his dad’s confession, feeling as though he had been struck by lightning. “Nononono this can’t be happening again,” he murmured to himself.

How could this be? TK felt like the universe was playing one huge practical joke on him. Has everything he remembered of Austin been a dream? Did he dream up two years of a life he never had in 4 days of unconsciousness? That couldn’t be possible. Oh god. Or if he had gone back in time then that meant that he hasn’t met Carlos yet. How the hell did this happen?

He looked up at his dad, hands shaking, “No. We moved to Austin. You got the job to put together a new team for the 126,  I went with you. Everything was good, great even. I had a boyfriend. I had Carlos; I was happy.” Tears sprung to his eyes at the thought of it not being real and peered beseechingly at his dad, “I can’t have just imagined that.”

“TK, you’re just confused from being asleep for so long. Let me go and get a doctor and get them to check you out.” His dad moved in the direction of the door.

“No. Give me a phone. I want to call Carlos.”

Owen turned back carefully, eyes full of concern as he said gently, “TK, there is no Carlos. If I’m not mistaken you’re in a relationship with Alex, last I heard you were going to propose to him.”

TK stopped listening to him as his mind spiraled over his dad’s first sentence.

There is no Carlos.

No Carlos.

Carlos.

He couldn’t have made him up.

**

Carlos sighed as he shuffled to the self-serve coffee machine, absent-mindedly fiddling with the edges of the thin bandage wrapped around his hand and wrist.

He yawned as he poured in the powdered coffee from its sachet before adding the boiling water. It wasn’t much, but he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, it was too late for any place to be making any, so it meant stooping to the lows that was getting his caffeine fix from the poor excuse that granulated coffee was.

It was enough to get him by. God knows he couldn’t imagine leaving just yet.

“So TK, how have you been since I saw you yesterday?”

TK spun the hospital wristband around his wrist. The questions had been the same for the last few days since it had been decided that he was to stay admitted at the hospital because of the concerns of his confusion.

At first, he had tried to convince his dad and the doctors that his dream was real and they were lying to him for some reason. But they had just looked at him like he was crazy and had him hooked up with daily visits with a hospital shrink. Looking back, he might have been able to convince his dad using the knowledge of his cancer diagnosis but even then his dad would probably still think he had lost the plot.

In the meantime when he wasn’t being therapised, he started plotting, feeling this intense need to get to Austin no matter what. Feeling as though if he saw Carlos everything would be alright. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, well he did, he’d been in love with him for a solid year before he’d woken up in this nightmare. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just needed to see his boyfriend, hold his hand,  and make sure that he was alright because he had this feeling in the pit of his stomach that something happened, he just couldn’t remember what.

So he started playing along with the therapist.

“I’m doing better. I realise now that what I was remembering was a dream. That it never happened. Even now I’m starting to forget it.” Liar. You still remember everything. “I feel much clearer now.”

“You do seem to be more grounded since I first started seeing you. If I can just ask you a few more questions, I’ll look into seeing if we can get you discharged today.”

“Fire away.”

TK sat patiently answering the questions brought forth. Yes, he is in New York. No, he had never been to Austin. No, he can’t remember the names of the firefighters he dreamt of. Yes, he proposed to Alex, but Alex told him that he was cheating on him with a spin class instructor named Mitchell which led to his overdose. No, he didn’t know anyone by the name of Carlos.

His responses must have seemed sincere enough to appease the doc, and he wondered if he should consider acting as a career because somehow he got the approval to be discharged that afternoon.

Owen picked him up. It was a quiet affair. TK could tell that his dad was worried, why wouldn’t he be when he had practically gone off the deep end right in front of him.

All he wanted to do was broach the subject of Austin, of his dad taking that job offer, but it was now a sensitive subject and he felt like his dad would be even more concerned if he brought it up again knowing that was the place that he had been so convinced about not 3 days ago.

No. He knew what he was going to do.

He bided his time. Listened to his dad as he lectured him on the fact that he would be staying with him for the time being. Agreed to go to therapy sessions and start going to AA meetings. They collected some of his things and by the time they got to his dad’s apartment, it was dinner time.

They ordered Thai food and ate in mostly companionable silence. Eventually, they talked about the overdose and his breakup with Alex, a conversation that TK felt so far removed from because it happened so long ago for him, but in this world, it was still new to his dad.

He was exhausted by the time they parted for the night, but his night was far from over. He knew he was never going to rest properly until he knew for sure. Couldn’t stand the thought of not being with Carlos for the rest of his life unless it was definitive. So with a flight and hotel booked, and an overnight bag packed, he left in the early hours of the morning, leaving a note for his dad on the fridge.

As he traveled, he couldn’t help but feel ridiculous about how intensely he felt about this. About the thought of not having Carlos in his life. He felt like one of those teenagers in a corny rom-com. Regardless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was right, that his world was off-kilter, and it would somehow be solved if he saw Carlos, looked him in the eyes, and held his hand. Or if he found out once and for all that he did imagine him all along.

TK arrived at his hotel room by mid-afternoon. His phone had been blowing up steadily by his dad, and his mum surprisingly, in both calls and texts which had been accumulating over his flight. He sent them both a text saying the same thing, he was alright, and he just had something he needed to do before he came back home. If he came back home.

He wouldn’t be surprised if one or both of them showed up by the end of the day though, near positive that they would be able to figure out where he had gone.

He changed his clothes and set off, intent on re-exploring the city that he had apparently lived in his head for 2 years, to see if it was how ‘dreamed’ it was. He first passed by the station. It was how it was when he and his dad first moved there, still unchanged. The wilting flowers surrounding photos of the lost firefighters still sat outside, untouched just like last time.

Of course, that hasn’t changed yet.

He and his dad hadn’t moved there and begun the process of updating the station and recruiting new firefighters yet. He wondered if they still will, or if his dad had truly said no because of him and things here will never change for the better.

TK moved along, stomach grumbling. It was around lunchtime by now and he wandered the streets aimlessly, soaking in the sunshine beaming down against his skin causing small beads of sweat to spring upon his forehead and the palms of his hands.

TK stopped then. Frozen to the spot as he felt a crushing sense of doom wash over him, a phantom feeling of a hand in his. TK stumbled and pressed his hand against the building beside him to steady himself as he felt as though the ground was crumbling beneath him. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the ground shake, but everyone appeared to be going about their business as if nothing happened. Not so much as even a shout was thrown to the wind.

He was getting some strange looks, however, from passer-by’s and one middle-aged woman even stopped to check to see if he was alright. He nodded his head and lied, saying he just felt lightheaded for a second but was fine. She gave him a warm smile and patted his shoulder as she moved off. He righted himself and did the same, continuing on in the opposite direction.

TK let his feet carry him forward as he poured his focus into his hand. There was no denying what he had felt moments ago. He had definitely felt a hand in his, which was impossible because there had been no one there. Their fingers had been entwined, a warm palm had been pressed against his, the slight sensation of dampness between them against the sun’s rays. It had felt so familiar. He knew that was Carlos’s hand. How many times had they walked hand in hand together in the time that they had been together? Too many to count.

Everything that was going on with him didn’t make sense. If someone were to ask him, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to put it into words.

Eventually, TK stopped and became aware of his surroundings. It was yet another familiar spot. Just across the road was the bubble tea shop the day everything electrical went nuts. And just off from where he was standing was where that bus had flipped.

He crossed the road towards the tea shop and went inside. There were multiple stickers on of the glass windows detailing foods available in cutesy graphics just how he remembered. There was no denying that he had been here before. He wouldn’t have been able to imagine the very specific details of this street without having been there.

He hung around that shop for a couple of hours, eating his lunch outside in the sunshine with a cool milk bubble tea to wash it down. By that point the sun was on the downturn of the afternoon and, feeling as though he had used up enough time, TK started his trek to the one place he knew Carlos would be on a Tuesday after work. The Trap.  

He had considered calling for an uber but decided against it, knowing that he would be sitting there for a good couple o hours before the people that he knew deep in his heart would start showing up.

So he took the long way on foot, enjoying the fresh air, and arrived an hour and a half later, just as the early trickles of the night crowd started stepping in for the night.

TK bided his time, ordering himself some mineral water and lime, and perched himself in the corner of the room and waited, feeling slightly like a stalker. Eventually, Judd and Grace were the first to appear, setting themselves up at one of their usual tables.

Even from the distance between them, TK could see the way Judd was holding himself. Still suffering from the unresolved grief that he had yet to address. It was so obvious to him now, especially knowing what Judd was like after he worked through his pain.

It just made him miss his future even more.

Shortly after Grace and Judd, Tim and Nancy were next shoulders bumping together playfully as they navigated their way to the bar looking as close as TK remember them being. And with that thought came a wash of sadness at the realisation that in 2-years-time, Tim wouldn’t be around anymore. His longing for that future dimmed considerably.

TK let the din of the crowd envelop him and brush away the dark thought. He tapped a toe to the live music being played, realising he’d gained quite the appreciation of it than what he remembered.

He was so focused on it that he almost missed Michelle’s entrance, and two steps behind her was the reason why he had come to Austin. Carlos.

Just seeing him again sent an electric shock through him causing him to shiver. Seeing him again meant that without a doubt there was no way that he imagined everyone in his supposed ‘dream’ while unconscious. Dreams are filled with people that you see in real life which meant that he had known or at the very least seen each and every one of them before waking up in the hospital which was extremely unlikely.

So, that left him with one other option.

He had time traveled.

Only problem was that he had no idea how that could have happened.

**

Carlos scratched around the scabs starting to form on his hand, the bandage removed as soon as he noticed that the bleeding had stopped, and the scratches had started to crust.

He was home now having been told in no uncertain terms that he needed to go home, have a shower, eat a proper meal and sleep in an actual bed rather than the fitful episodes he’d been getting in the hard plastic chair.

He had protested of course, knowing that he had all the time in the world, having taken as much leave from work as he could to stay where he was but even he had to admit, he had missed his bed and shower.

**

TK took a large gulp of what was left of his mineral water and maneuvered himself over to the dance floor, leaving the glass behind. He had purposefully worn the same shirt as he had the first time he and Carlos had met, hoping to catch his eye a second time. Except this time, he was going to make the first move considering that they had never met before now in Carlos’s world.

He bobbed his head to the beat of the music and wandered along the fringes of the dance floor before eventually catching the eye of the man he had been looking for. He waited until Michelle stepped away before sidling up to Carlos.

“Hey,” he said casually when he was feeling anything but casual as a sense of rightness settled over that had been missing since he had woken up. The heavy feeling of foreboding was still present even though he was finally putting things right.

“Hey,” Carlos answered cautiously, eyes searching his as if trying to figure out the sudden greeting.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, indicating towards the throng of dancers.

Carlos smiled softly at the invitation and nodded, “Yeah.”

He followed him onto the dance floor, and they danced just like the first time, except this time he actually knew how to line dance. The energy between them was as electric as it always was and TK’s body thrummed with it, buzzing under his skin. He almost forgot that his world had been flipped on its head in this moment, all that he knew was Carlos.

“You’re not from around here,” Carlos stated loudly over the music.

“I guess not,” he half-shouted in response leaning in closer for Carlos to hear.

“What does that mean?”

“Long story.”

Carlos leaned in closer, enough that his breath tickled the hairs on the side of his neck, “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter, and you can tell me.”

TK nodded eagerly and let Carlos take his wrist but stumbled at the touch, feeling that wave of dread wash over him again. He tried to shove it aside and smiled reassuringly at Carlos when he looked back in concern. He reinforced that reassurance by stepping ahead of him as he tangled their fingers together.

And that’s when the crushing feeling of foreboding and dread fell on him like a pile of rocks, Carlos seemed to be saying something, but he couldn’t hear him over a deafening noise he couldn’t place. He looked back at Carlos only to find a different Carlos staring back at him, alarm and fear clear as day on his face, as his step faltered, a shout on his lips as he fell backward and felt the world swallow him up in darkness.

**

Carlos woke with a start, breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. Blood thundered in his ears as a clammy sheen coated his body. He slowed his breaths as he took in his surroundings.

He was back at the hospital. Waking in one of the uncomfortable chairs that sat beside the hospital beds. He regretted not moving to the small sofa that was pushed up under the window as his back and neck protested his sleeping position. It wasn’t the first time that he’d woken up like that.

He lean forward dropping his elbows to his knees and let his face fall into his hands rubbing aggressively at it in an attempt to wipe away the memory of his dream. Except it wasn’t really a dream. Ever since the incident, he had been plagued with reliving the memory over and over. Sometimes he would be able to change the outcome but more often than not it actually turned out worse.  

Regardless, it was something that he couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard he tried.

It was impossible to forget the way the semi-trailer’s horn sounded in his ears just seconds before the deafening crack and shudder of the path beneath their feet. The way the concrete seemed to crumble beneath their feet. TK had been half a pace ahead of him, hand still in his.

It had been a hot day and their hands had both been a little sweaty but neither of them had minded at the time. It felt like it had happened in slow motion, the path beneath TK’s feet went out from under him, taking him with it while Carlos was still on solid ground. He had managed to get his other hand on TK’s wrist enough that they could change their grip but taking on his sudden weight in his hand combined with the sweat made it difficult to hold on.

He managed to keep TK’s hand in his long enough to see the desperate look in TK’s eyes as their grips slowly slipped, TK’s nails digging into his palm and leaving deep scratches as he fell, disappearing amongst the rubble below.

It took him far longer than he would have liked to find a safe route to get down below, and by the time he did the dust had settled enough for him to be able to find TK half-buried beneath the rubble. Shoulder dislocated, a heavily bleeding head wound was what he saw, and he could only have guessed what else wasn’t visible.

As it turned out surprisingly little. He did have a dislocated shoulder and a multitude of cuts and bruises from the debris as well as some broken ribs but aside from that, his body had miraculously gotten away with minimal injury. His brain, however, was the biggest worry.

They had to put him in a medically-induced coma when he finally got to the hospital… something to do with a traumatic brain injury and his brain swelling, Carlos wasn’t well read up on it, but he was told it was meant so the brain could rest and help it reduce swelling which is what it had been doing since the fall. They had managed to get the swelling to reduce quickly, and they had reversed the coma 2 days ago. TK's brain function looked normal and as far as they could tell, all of his reflexes were intact which was a very positive sign. All they were waiting for now was for him to wake up.

Carlos traced the crusting scratches with his fingers. Apparently, it could take some time to happen. The brain can be a fickle thing is what the neurosurgeon had told him.

All he knew was that he needed TK to wake up. For his own selfish reasons. Now that he has had him in his life, Carlos couldn’t imagine his life without him. TK challenged, made him enjoy life in a way that he never had before. Accepted being loved uninhibited and unabashedly and gave that love in return.

He knew in no uncertain terms that he was going to need to talk to someone about it. But not yet, not until he knew what the outcome was. Not until he knew that TK was going to be okay.

He didn’t want his last memory of TK to be of him falling, being engulfed by the plume of concrete dust, and looking so broken and unconscious to the point that Carlos had thought the worst when he found him after the dust settled. He wished, God, he had wished that he could go back in time and just be able to hold onto TK’s hand, been able to pull him to safety.

Carlos dropped one hand to the bed and reached out to TK’s, picking in up to brush his thumb over his knuckles. Even now, he could see the remnants of blood under TK’s nails that he knew was his and it made his heart clench at the thought of what TK must have felt in the moment.

Carlos let out a long-drawn-out sigh and stood up, not yet letting go of TK’s hand as he stooped down to press a kiss to his forehead and murmured, “I’ll be back in a minute, I just need to stretch my legs.”

He started to step away and release TK’s hand when he felt a finger twitch against his palm. Carlos froze. “TK? Can you hear me?”

He watched intently and saw the barest tick of an eyebrow as he felt TK once again trying to move his fingers. He quickly sat down and shuffled to the edge of his seat, not once letting go of his hand as he searched for the nurse call button. “You’re doing such a good job! Can you try to wiggle your fingers again?”

Carlos felt two fingers slightly curl in his hand and his heart soared in response. A nurse stepped in then and she must have picked up on his excitement because before he even had to utter a word she was quick to nod and say, “I’ll page the doctor.”

After what felt like forever, the neurosurgeon arrived and went over his usual checks before including checking TK’s seemingly conscious responses. With a look of satisfaction, he turned to Carlos, “It looks like he’s working his way back to consciousness. It may take him some time before he is able to wake up fully. So far, he seems to be responding remarkably well which gives me hope that he has avoided any serious deficits, but we won’t know for sure until he is fully awake.”

The doctor bid him well and said she’d be back periodically to check on TK’s progress and left at that leaving Carlos to let out a pent-up sigh of relief. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to call Owen, not surprisingly getting his voicemail as he had sent the man home not a few hours ago to get some rest. He left a message update explaining what the doctor had told him.

Carlos barely left TK’s bedside in the hours to follow, knowing that there was no way that he was going to voluntarily leave now that he knew that TK could wake at any time.

Knowing that TK was able to react to his voice, he began a non-stop monologue detailing anything and everything even going so far as to recount the beginning of their relationship. Surprisingly regularly in those hours, he would get micro responses from TK; a minute squeeze of the hand or a mild furrowing of the brow, which became more and more pronounced until they stopped, which caused him to panic enough that he asked for Dr. Nevin to be paged.

Dr. Nevin returned and gave TK’s vitals a once over before she turned to him with a reassuring smile. “You can relax Carlos. Judging from his charts, I’d say he’s fallen asleep for the night.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder as she passed him on the way to the door, pausing in the doorway giving him a pointed look, “Maybe you should do the same.”

He smiled at her tiredly in acknowledgment as she left before turning his attention back to his boyfriend. This wasn’t the first time that she had gently suggested that he take care of himself and at the reminder, he yawned, sliding down in his chair, and stretched out his legs, crossed his arms as he fell asleep to the quiet beat of TK’s heart rate monitor.

It was the next day when TK had his first true awakening. Owen had just returned to the room bringing with him barista-made coffee which Carlos quickly inhaled half of before slowing down to appreciate the taste. He has a lazy hand outstretched in TK’s loose, open palm and was talking quietly with Owen when he felt TK grip his hand. He paused sharply mid-sentence eyes zeroing in on the hand before flicking up to TK’s face. His eyes were squinting back at him, lips slightly parting before closing again as his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

This was to be expected and what Dr. Nevin had prepared them for. Both he and Owen did their best to ease TK back into the waking world with the help of Dr. Nevin and soon enough TK tired himself out and fell back asleep in exhaustion. And that’s how it went for the rest of the day with TK waking up periodically more cognizant than the time before.

Much to Dr. Nevin’s surprise, TK was recovering rapidly considering his initial testing and she was confident with his current condition that he would be suited for outpatient rehab for the residual functional and mental deficits still present. She had said that she was confident that he would recover fully over time and was happy to be able to discharge him so soon provided that there would be someone around to keep an eye on him if any negative symptoms developed.

Carlos breathed a sigh of relief when they finally were able to take TK home and was thankful that he and TK had opted to get a place that was one story after the fire, so there were no stairs that they would have to navigate. Soon enough they were both showered and collapsed in bed, lying on their sides facing each other. TK top shoulder still in a sling for the time being.

“Hey,” TK said softly, gazing at him under heavy-lidded eyes.

“Hey.” He answered, reaching his hand to claim TK’s bottom one in his own, “How are you doing?”

“Tired. Fuzzy. Uncoordinated.” TK drawled, punctuating it with a fumble as he threaded his fingers between Carlos’s.

TK bit his lip, scrunching his face, and squeezed his eyes shut, “Wanted to ask… What happened?... I remember someth...” he trailed off, but Carlos could tell he wasn’t done, knowing that would take some time for TK to string together long sentences.

“I remember falling?” TK opened his eyes peering back at him inquiringly.

He should have expected this. even now it was still raw, and he had been avoiding the subject, not wanting to relive it, hoping that TK wouldn’t ask. But of course, he did, and Carlos had no choice but to tell him, breaking it down for TK to easily digest the information.

“It was sunny, and we went for a walk across the Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge. And had just made it to the loop at the end when a semi lost control. Crashed into legs of the bridge,” he said slowly, pausing to make sure that TK was still following along and waited for him to nod him on, “You had just stepped ahead of me when the bridge broke. We were holding hands, but I lost grip of yours before I could pull you up.”

TK released his hand and brought it up to pat his cheek haphazardly before leaving it resting on his jawline, “I’m sorry…” he sighed, eyes drooping as he struggled to stay awake from processing the conversation.

Carlos put his hand over TK’s, “No reason to be sorry. These things just happen.”

TK started to say something else to the contrary, but he faded out mid-sentence, leaving Carlos to watch him fall asleep right then and there. He had thought that would be it for that particular conversation, but weeks later, TK brought it up again. This time, though, he was much more like himself again, able to have complex conversations with only brief lapses of concentration from time to time.

They were having lunch together outside on their patio, a small stack of sandwiches between them to pick at as they quietly soaked in the sunshine with a glass of lemonade in hand and lo-fi beats floating in the background from a neighbour's speakers.

TK had a far-off expression which prompted Carlos to ask, “What’s on your mind babe?”

“Remember when I asked you what happened that day and you said that I fell off the bridge?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember much of that; you were so tired that day. Why?”

“I’ve been slowly remembering pieces of that day and then just now had this weird sense of déjà vu.” He trailed off at that, lost in thought before coming back to the conversation, changing the subject slightly, “Did I ever tell you that I dreamed when I was unconscious?”

“Ah, no. You didn’t” Carlos leaned over to settle his elbow on the table, face cupped in his palm, intrigued, “Tell me about it.”

TK went on to recall how he had dreamed of his past after he had his overdose that triggered them to move to Texas but because he had been self-aware he changed the course of what had originally happened. It was fascinating to Carlos that TK was able to dream and remember that dream even from that state of unconsciousness. It was crazy to think of how layered it was and still, Carlos got one main take away from TK’s subconscious.

“Aww even unconscious, you couldn’t live without me.”  

TK shrugged and smiled ruefully, “I’m starting to think more and more that soulmates exist, and you must be mine if even my damaged brain couldn’t deal with not having you in my life. Sorry babe you’re stuck with me forever.”

“Well just so you know, I stayed by your bedside almost 24/7 because I couldn’t live without you either, so I guess I’m okay with being stuck together forever.” Carlos reached for TK’s hand and brought his knuckles to his lips. He watched as TK blushed,  feeling smug that he could cause such a reaction so easily,

TK  couldn’t keep the grin from his face, “Guess we're just a couple of hopeless romantics huh.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I can't imagine my life without you I can't imagine one night without you If something happened, don't know what I'd do I can't imagine I can't imagine my life without you

[narangmedical]

All I.V. Cannulae have specially designed needle hubs to prevent any de-stabilization and bending of the needle during venipuncture. Siliconized beveled, back cut ground stainless steel needle for smooth and painless venipuncture. Made of Stainless Steel AISI304, diameter and length according to ISO standard ... https://www.narang.com/medical-disposables/infusion-disposable-products/DS101.php

[the-real-tc]

Bad Business Ch. 8: Hunter & the Hunted

Author's Note: It is with extreme anxiety that I post this latest chapter. The stakes are higher than ever, and I'm afraid things still aren't being made very clear, and suspects will still be plentiful.

***

To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.

- Ps. 113

Chapter 8:

Hunter and the Hunted

Jack glanced up at the clock and pouted: it was three minutes to nine o'clock in the evening. An earlier announcement reminded all visitors of the approaching end to visiting hours for the day. His time with Lisa, in his opinion, had been all-too-short since she regained consciousness.

"I wish you could stay," Lisa said, even as she yawned, sleep threatening to overtake her. "Talking to the cops today still has me all wrung out."

"I know," Jack murmured. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Jack, they had the audacity to suggest you might have had something to do with what happened to me," Lisa said, finally feeling comfortable enough to tell him. "They asked me about my will."

Jack grimaced, thinking about his own earlier bad dream. "I figured they would."

Lisa shook her head. "I tried to tell them there's no way my loving husband was capable of something like this."

"Thanks for that, Lis," Jack uttered, looking at her with great tenderness. She returned his gaze, thinking how lucky she was to have this wonderful man in her life. He held her right hand in his, gently massaging her knuckles with his thumb, making sure he avoided the I.V. lines.

Another announcement sounded now, insisting all non-staff make their exit as visiting hours were over.

"I guess this is goodnight," she said, reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his soothing grasp.

"But I'll be back tomorrow," Jack pledged as he stood to depart. "Maybe I can plan to stay overnight then, if they'll let me."

"Yeah? Promise?"

"I promise," Jack said, smiling indulgently. "I love you, Lis."

"I love you more, Cowboy."

He bent over her and kissed her lightly on the lips. He was rewarded by her smile of complete contentment. "'Bye," he whispered.

"'Bye," she answered, eyes already closing, but the smile lingered.

***

Jack waited for an elevator to reach his floor. With visiting hours concluded, non-staff activity on the unit had been winding down, and the corridors were fairly empty. When the elevator arrived, Jack stepped aside to let the single occupant—fully dressed in scrubs, surgical cap and mask—disembark. He stepped into the cab to descend. Jack nearly reached his parking lot level when he realised he had forgotten his hat behind in Lisa's hospital room. The thought crossed his mind to just leave it there for now; after all, it would be waiting for him tomorrow when he returned to see Lisa again.

No, he thought, head feels too bare. Plus, it would be another excuse to see his wife, even if it was for a few more seconds. He tapped the number on the display screen to Lisa's floor for the elevator to carry him back. So what if it was already past visiting hours? Surely they would not begrudge him this little errand.

"I forgot my hat," he said sheepishly to the nurse at the desk when he retraced his steps.

"Go on," she said with a knowing smile, waving him through.

***

Lisa had barely begun to drift off when she sensed the presence of someone else in the dim room. Probably another nurse coming for night-check, she thought sleepily. Things had reached a point where she simply let the hospital staff go about their business, whether it was checking her BP, temperature, I.V. lines, the pulse/ox machines, catheter, or whatnot. Sure enough, she could hear the sounds of the other person fiddling around with the medical machinery next to the bed. Next, her nasal cannula was gently removed. Without any warning, something soft yet unyielding dropped heavily onto her entire head, face and neck.

What on earth?! Lisa thought in panic, as her ability to draw a breath ceased completely. Something was suffocating her! Or was it someone?!

I can't breathe! Somebody help me! Her frantic thoughts screamed. She reached blindly for the call button, but it was not in its usual place by her side. Lisa next attempted to raise her right fist to combat this unexpected assault since her injured left arm would be too weak in this fight. Dull blows landed ineffectively on what she imagined might be her assailant's shoulder. She dug her fingernails uselessly into a large hand that was double-gloved. Whatever he was forcing down onto her face remained firmly in place. She tried to cry out, but her voice was totally muted by what she rightly guessed was a pillow. With her strength waning, Lisa desperately attempted to squirm away; the brute responded by leaning against her, using his body weight to keep her from escaping.

I need air! Lisa's already tortured lungs felt like they were burning. Pressure was building in her chest to intolerable levels. An awful stabbing sensation erupted in her left side without warning. Dizzying patterns of coloured blobs and flashes spun and swirled behind her eyelids like a kaleidoscope.

No! I can't die like this! Please, someone, anyone... please come now! Jack!

Blackness engulfed her as consciousness sank away.

***

The door to Lisa's room was unexpectedly closed when Jack arrived, causing him to wonder if there was some sort of private consultation or assessment going on between Lisa and her doctors. Odd for this hour, he mused. He gave the door a gentle tap just in case as he opened it. His eyes immediately fell on a nightmarish scene.

A man—dressed in the same scrubs and the same surgical cap and mask Jack had seen only minutes earlier on the elevator—was leaning over Lisa. Even from this vantage point, he could see the man was smothering her with a pillow. Not just smothering her; he was actively killing her.

Jack did not waste another second. A bellow of fury erupted from his mouth as he charged forward like a wild bull. His target barely had time to react, turning slightly in surprise at the sudden yell. From behind, Jack roughly locked his arm around the other man's neck to drag him away from Lisa.

His quarry delivered a swift elbow to the ribs, causing Jack to gasp in pain. His grip slackened. It was enough for the villain to break free and go on the offensive. Three hard blows landed in quick succession: first to Jack's gut, jaw, then his temple.

The old cowboy staggered back, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his aching head. Though he was hurting, a potent, blind rage continued to propel him towards this piece of scum who dared to harm his wife. Thankfully, he had a slight advantage in height and weight. First, Jack blocked another punch coming his way; next, he slung out a well-aimed fist of his own. With satisfaction, Jack felt his left knuckles connect solidly with the right cheekbone of the other man. Crunch! He followed with a right uppercut to the villain's chin, snapping his head back. An agonized grunt escaped his target's lips. Jack wanted to apply more damage, worked up as he was, adrenalin pumping through his veins. His initial yell of rage and sounds of their brawl, however, had begun to attract the attention of the staff, and the sound of scurrying feet and shouts outside the room put the attacker on alert.

"Code White! Unit 52! Code White! Unit 52!" droned a voice over the public address system.

"Outta my way, old man!" came the goon's muffled croak. He roughly shouldered Jack aside. Caught off-balance, Jack could not catch hold of him as he swept past to the freedom of the open door.

"Stop him!" Jack yelled hoarsely as he turned to give chase, but it was already too late. The other man was a good sprinter and had already disappeared down a hall to a stairwell exit. With dismay, Jack instinctively knew that by the time hospital Protective Services could converge on the unit, Lisa's attacker would be long gone.

Lisa! Was she okay?

"I need help in here, now!" he rasped, even as he rushed to her side. The pillow was still partially obscuring her head. Jack flung it aside to reveal a deathly pale face and blue lips just as three nurses bolted into the room.

"He-he was suffocating her with the pillow. I don't think she's breathing," Jack managed to gasp, horrified at the sight.

"Move aside!" Nurse Cheryl commanded.

Numbly, Jack managed to stumble out of the way, nearly tripping over his own feet.

This can't be happening... This can't be happening... The words beat through his brain cells on repeat mode while the nurses turned machines back on and checked Lisa's vital signs. He heard Cheryl call out "Code Blue!" and watched in disbelief as she began to administer CPR. The medical emergency in Lisa's room rang out over the public address system, bringing emergency staff hustling in with a crash cart.

"You'll have to leave," another nurse said, taking hold of Jack's arm. "Give them space. Let them work."

Jack allowed himself to be pulled out of the room, shock starting to overtake his senses as the adrenalin rush subsided.

Let her live, please! I can't... lose her... There was so much going on Jack lost track. Unidentifiable voices called out instructions.

"Charging!"

"Hands off!"

"C'mon, Lisa!"

Medications were administered. Machines whined and buzzed. Another stretcher arrived.

"Let's move!"

In a blur, the emergency team hustled Lisa's still form out of the room.

"Where-where are you taking her?" Jack called out to them. They paid him no heed and simply raced down the hallway towards a bank of elevators. He wanted so very badly to follow them, but Nurse Cheryl came to his side.

"She needs immediate surgery," Cheryl puffed, still catching her breath from her recent exertion. "Let them go."

"Surgery?!" he yelped, staring at her in stunned distress.

"She stopped breathing," Cheryl explained. "As a consequence, she went into cardiac arrest. We got her heart going again, but we think her lung re-collapsed. They're taking her to fix it."

"W-Will she be okay?"

"I don't know, Jack," Cheryl replied honestly, looking up at him with great sympathy. "I don't know how long she went without oxygen. There could be complications with her lungs. There could be irreversible brain damage. We just have to wait and see and let the doctors do their work."

Jack felt his gut clench and his fists tighten involuntarily, suddenly wishing there was something he could smash.

"Are you all right?" Cheryl asked, scrutinizing his face more intently now. "You were assaulted too, weren't you?"

"It's nothing," Jack muttered, rubbing his sore knuckles and working his jaw.

"Where did he hit you?" Cheryl asked in a tone that left no room for avoidance.

"Here, here, and here," Jack eventually admitted, indicating his abdomen, his jaw, and the side of his head.

"We should get you checked out."

"I don't want—" Jack protested, but she cut him off.

"Hey! You'll do your wife no favours if that guy gave you a concussion—or worse—a subdural hematoma when he hit you," Cheryl sternly pointed out. "Sit down here and don't move until I get a doctor. Understand?"

"Fine," Jack groused, recognizing the truth in her words. He sank into a chair, still unable to comprehend what had just happened.

That man tried to kill Lisa! If I hadn't forgotten my hat... if I hadn't come back... She would be... No, it was too awful to contemplate that tragic outcome. Even so, there was no telling if she would survive this second attempt on her life.

Overwhelmed, Jack put his head in his hands, feeling the tears come of their own volition.

***

Jack rebuttoned his shirt after having been checked over by a doctor fetched by Nurse Cheryl.

"Lungs sound clear," Dr. Kaminska said, pulling the stethoscope from her ears and pushing the vital signs monitor cart aside. "But your pulse is still rapid and your blood pressure is a tad high. I suppose that is to be expected after what you just went through. Do you take any regular medications, Mr. Bartlett?"

"Not really," he replied. "Only for angina. But I haven't had an attack in a long time."

"Do you have your nitroglycerin tablets with you now?"

Jack nodded.

"All right, I want you to take one right away if you start feeling any discomfort. Don't tough it out and don't delay."

"I won't," Jack said.

"Good. You're going to have some swelling and some ugly bruising for a little while after the punches you took, so please take it easy. If you start experiencing headaches, sudden increased pain or nausea and vomiting, I want you to come to Emergency immediately. All right?"

"All right. Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. I pray your wife pulls through," Dr. Kaminska said kindly. "What has happened here tonight is extremely outrageous and upsetting."

Jack merely nodded.

"Hospital security and the police will want to talk to you now," she added. "I told them no one was to disturb you until I had checked you over to make sure you were okay."

"All right," Jack said. "Send them in."

***

Parker Residence, Hudson

"Chief, there's just been another attempt on Lisa Stillman's life."

James Parker's eyebrows shot to the ceiling as this piece of news registered. "What?! Kavanaugh, what the hell happened?"

"Calgary's people were over at the hospital investigating. They're saying security video recording shows a guy dressed in scrubs getting off the elevator on the floor of her recovery room," Kavanaugh said. "Coincidentally, Jack Bartlett was just getting on the same elevator. Anyway, the scumbag's head and face were covered with a surgical cap and mask, so we have no facial details. He just breezed right into her room and no one batted an eye because of course he didn't look out of place. The only reason Stillman is even alive is because Bartlett back-tracked to retrieve his forgotten hat. Walked in and found the bastard trying to suffocate her with a pillow."

"Low-tech, but effective," Parker muttered in distaste, already making a move to get down to headquarters.

"Yeah. They got into an altercation. Bartlett says he grabbed the guy and got in a few good punches, but he took a few of his own. Security personnel were too late to nab him; he's still on the loose, but they think he fled on a motorbike."

"They 'think'?!"

"Hospital security cams around the time of the attack show the man dressed in the scrubs taking off on foot out of a south stairwell fire exit. He sprinted off through the parking lot and out onto Front Street. The next time they pick him up visually, it's on the traffic cams, and he's on a motorcycle. Unfortunately, they lost him once he was outside Calgary city limits, heading south. He must have turned off some country road somewhere and continued on to who knows where."

"Be impossible to track now," Parker lamented.

"They've issued a Canada-wide APB," Kavanaugh said. "We could get lucky."

"Yeah, right," Parker said, thinking how impossible it would be to find that particular needle in a haystack. "Is Stillman going to make it?"

"Last word is she was in surgery again," Kavanaugh said. "Her left lung re-collapsed in the attack. Time will tell if she'll pull through. If she does, I think we need to seriously look into some protection options."

"Agreed. Call the team back in and arrange a video conference with Calgary PD. Send them everything we have on the Stillman case so far, particularly the list of those investors. I'm on my way; we need to get to the bottom of this."

"Affirmative. See you soon."

***

Hudson Police Headquarters — 1:00 a.m.

"So, we're back to the targeted attack theory, then?" Kavanaugh asked.

"It would seem so," Parker replied. "And whoever it is, he's clearly not going to stop until she's dead."

"You know, I never liked Bartlett as our prime suspect, anyway," Patterson stated.

"Me, either, despite what he'd stand to gain with her out of the way," Kavanaugh remarked.

"The whole thing stinks, but not from the family," Parker declared. "I'm thinking it's got to be connected to this investors' group or her business life, and we need to find that connection before it's too late."

"The problem is we're not really turning up anything that would suggest a problem in her business life," Kavanaugh said.

"CRA audited her last tax season, though," another detective named Brian Benoit supplied.

"Yeah? They find anything fishy?" asked Parker.

"Nope. The only thing she was 'guilty' of was trying to sell a foreign property while trying to keep her business afloat here in Canada," Benoit said. "When the plan to sell the place fell through, she tried renting it. There were some seeming irregularities in her reporting of those rental revenues, but it was all sorted out."

"Yes, Jack Bartlett did mention that 'financial trouble' when I told him Lisa had been shot..." Parker said. "Time to talk to her staff and any business associates you can dig up, past and present. We need answers, and we need them fast."

"All right. We'll head to Fairfield Stables first thing in the morning to speak with her staff," Kavanaugh said.

"Good," Parker said.

Just then, the video call from the Calgary police went live, and Detective James Prescott's face popped up on the screen on the conference room wall.

"Thanks for taking the time out to chat with us, Detective Prescott," Chief Parker greeted the other man. "Any updates on the attack on Stillman?"

"Nothing past what we already know," Prescott said. "No hits on the APB, unfortunately."

"Anything shake out on your end with the list of the members of the investors' group we sent you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Prescott replied. "One of the names you gave us, 'Tanner Gunn'—we interviewed Gunn a year ago when the Barick murders took place. Lanny Barick and Tanner Gunn had some joint business interests at the time not related to their investors' group. Nothing raised any flags back then, but with the Stanton death and now these attempts on Stillman, we took a second look."

"Go on," Parker asked.

"We know Gunn was able to collect on an insurance policy when Barick died," Prescott said. "Now, before you get all excited, Gunn did have a valid reason for having that policy. The two of them had that shared business venture and had reciprocal life insurance policies. It's not unusual for this sort of thing to be in place so that if one of the business partners dies, the loss isn't so severe for the surviving partner."

"Right, 'insurable interest'," Parker said with a nod.

"Exactly. If Gunn had died first, Barick would have collected."

"Yeah, nothing really illegal about that, on the surface," Parker said.

"Right, but I'm waiting to hear back from one of my C.I.s who might have something that could be useful," Prescott said. "See, we had insufficient cause to dig deeper into Gunn's affairs a year ago, but now that all this has happened, we're digging deeper. And from what we're uncovering, it looks like he's been involving himself in some shady stuff."

Parker seized on this point. "How 'shady' are we talking?"

"We found out Gunn has been banned from every reputable casino in Western Canada," Prescott said, "and my informant thinks he's been frequenting some illegal gambling places in Calgary, Edmonton, and points in between."

"So Gunn has a gambling problem," Parker said. "Does he have a debt problem, too?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Prescott answered. "There's some loan sharks a couple of my undercover guys are hoping to talk to."

"All right, keep us in the loop," Chief Parker said. "And thanks for doing the legwork on this angle."

"You're welcome," Det. Prescott said. "This hospital attack is our investigation, after all. We're of course very concerned about Ms. Stillman's safety."

"As are we. You think this guy is going to try again, don't you?" Parker asked.

"Undoubtedly," Prescott replied. "Whoever it was went to great lengths to stay concealed. This was no random attack."

"So what's your plan?" asked Parker.

"Given the seriousness of the situation, we believe desperate times call for desperate measures. I have a hunch about what's going on, so I'm recommending to my chief we place an immediate protection detail on Stillman if she pulls through tonight."

Parker nodded. "I was thinking the same," he said. "I only hope it will be enough. Now tell me more about this hunch of yours."

***

South Calgary Health Campus

"Tim, I need you to get up here to the hospital as soon as you can."

The sound of his ex-father-in-law's voice in his ear at this hour was not a pleasant one for Tim. "What? Why? What time is it?"

"Late!" Jack snapped.

"What's the matter?" Tim asked, Jack's tone making him change his line of questioning as concern for Lisa's well-being now replaced his irritation at being awakened. "I thought you'd be back home by now. Is Lisa okay?"

"Someone just tried to kill her, so no, she's not okay!"

"What?!" Tim exclaimed in disbelief. "Did you say someone just tried to kill her? Again?"

"Just get your butt down here, would you?" Jack implored. "I'll explain everything."

"Fine," Tim ground out. "All right. I can be there in about 45 minutes. You're lucky it's night so I'm not going to get stuck in traffic."

"Quit yapping and get moving!"

"All right! Hold your horses, I'm moving. Geez."

***

The news that Lisa had been attacked in her room meant the family at Heartland was on a razor's edge of anxiety. They all wanted to race out to the hospital in Calgary; Jack insisted it was enough for Tim to be there for the time being. After all, with visiting hours over for the night, they would not all be welcome to loiter in the hospital hallways.

While Lyndy slept in Katie's room, Lou, Amy, Ty, and Georgie decided to keep vigil together in the living room, silently waiting for any word, but it was an uneasy silence that gripped them. For that reason, everyone was startled when Ty's cell phone buzzed around 5:00 a.m.

Ty recovered quickly and looked at the screen. TIM. "It's your dad," he said to Amy and Lou.

"Hello, Tim?" he answered, rising from the couch as he did so. He listened carefully to the message being relayed by his father-in-law, making every effort not to let his emotions overtake him.

Three pairs of eyes remained fixed on Ty, each set trying to glean something—anything from his posture or his face that would tell them what was being discussed; anything that would tell them if they should prepare for the worst, or if they should be relieved.

"Thanks, Tim," Ty eventually said. "I'll tell them." He swallowed slowly and ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"What's going on?" Georgie asked with trepidation, unable to contain herself any longer.

Ty paused for a moment before responding, able only to speak a few words at first. "Tim says..."

"What?" Amy asked, eyes wide.

Ty blinked furiously. He felt his throat constrict, but knew he had to speak the news Tim relayed.

Georgie looked to be on the verge of tears. "Ty?" she whispered.

Somehow, Ty managed to get his mouth to sound out two more words:

"Lisa's gone."

With a cry, the teen fled up the stairs to her room. Lou was torn between wanting to comfort her daughter and dealing with her own emotions at this disastrous news.

"No," Amy whispered, feeling hot tears springing up beneath her eyelids. She leaned into Ty and he brought his lips to the side of her head, giving her a gentle kiss while wrapping his arm around her shoulder. No one said anything for several beats.

Lou finally broke the stifling, uncomfortable silence. "I should go up there," she said dully, staring up towards the loft. "I just have no idea what to say to her right now."

Lou tapped gently on Georgie's bedroom door. She could hear quiet sniffles coming from her eldest daughter, and her heart plummeted. Georgie always experienced emotions very deeply, usually expressing them openly and unabashedly.

"Georgie, honey, can I come in?" Lou softly called.

A muffled sigh and hiccup was the only response.

"I'm coming in," Lou said, ignoring the lack of verbal answer.

Georgie was sitting on her bed, legs drawn up, face buried in her arms.

"I'm a really horrible person!" Georgie exclaimed, raising her head to look at her mother.

"What? Why do you say that?" Lou asked, completely thrown by this unexpected outburst. "Georgie, what are you talking about?"

She came and sat next to Georgie, draping her right arm around the teen's trembling shoulders.

Georgie's tearstained eyes met Lou's. "When I first got here... when Clint let Jack be my temporary guardian... I..."

More tears flooded Georgie's eyes, as if she were recalling a particularly bitter memory.

"You what, Georgie? It can't be that bad," Lou said encouragingly.

Her words came tumbling out. "But it is, Lou! I said really terrible things to Lisa when she came to see Jack. All I knew was she was Jack's girlfriend, and I was mad because I thought she was going to make him spend less time with me, and I thought she was this rich, snobby, stuck-up lady. I was horrible to her, and I never told her I was sorry. I never got to take it back, and now..."

"Oh, Georgie..." Lou murmured. "Sweetheart, you have to know Lisa would have never held that against you. I've said horrible things to her, too."

"You have?" Georgie asked, in spite of herself.

"Oh, yes," Lou admitted with a sigh. "And if there's anything I can tell you about Lisa, it's that she was always quick to forgive... and she was usually the first to apologize. If she was ever upset at you for whatever it was you said, I'm sure she forgot about it a long time ago. She loved you, Georgie. She loved all of us. As if we were her own."

Speaking those words now, Lou felt a sudden void she had not experienced since hearing about Marion's death. It's like losing Mom all over again, she thought. Why did I never truly notice how much a part of this family's life Lisa became? Now she's gone...

Lou held her daughter even closer to her.

***

Fairfield Stables

"No!"

"Mr. Wilkes, I know this news comes as a shock," Det. Kavanaugh said as calmly as possible to Harry after his emotional reaction when told about Lisa. "I'm so sorry. You and the staff here at Fairfield have the sympathies of the entire Hudson police department."

Head groomsman and almost lifelong Fairfield employee Harry Wilkes raised his head from his hands. "How is this possible? I-I thought she was okay! I thought she was recovering after what happened! Now you're telling me someone got to her right in her hospital room last night?! How?!"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Patterson said in a soothing voice. "That's why we're here. It's vital we find out as much as we can about her life here at Fairfield as soon as possible. You can help us with that. Do you think you can answer some questions?"

Harry tried to compose himself even as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I need a moment. Wait a minute, how is Jack? Is Jack okay? Does her sister—does Rachel know what's happened?"

"Mr. Bartlett is as well as can be expected, Mr. Wilkes," Patterson said gently. "I'm sure Ms. Stillman's sister has been notified."

Harry nodded and impatiently brushed aside the tears. "Sorry," he said again after blowing his nose. "This is so shocking and upsetting. I'm not sure how much help I can be, but of course I'll answer your questions. Anything to help you nail the bastard who did this."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilkes. We understand you worked for Matthew Stillman for many years before he passed," Kavanaugh began. "Then his daughter inherits Fairfield and steps in and makes massive changes to how things had been operating. Off the record: how was Lisa Stillman as a boss?"

Harry's eyes misted again, his gut clenching as he heard Kavanaugh use the past tense when referring to the woman he had watched grow up.

"Lisa... Lisa was a great boss," Harry gulped, swamped with emotion. "Not just to me; to all of us. Case in point: When she was going through a rough financial patch during the economic downturn a couple years back, she did everything she could not to lay off any of the staff, even though that's what her accountant recommended. I've known her since she was a wee little kid. She might have paid my salary, but Lisa was also a good friend. Everyone who worked for her would say the same thing. She could be demanding—it's a demanding business—but she was also fair."

Kavanaugh fired off a volley, calculated to catch Harry off-guard: "You said 'everyone who worked for her'. What about that jockey Lisa sacked about eight years ago?"

Harry fielded the question easily. "Who, Liam Comox?" A slight sneer crossed his face as he remembered the arrogant young man. "Never liked the guy, but Lisa saw potential in him. If there's anything she was guilty of, it would be that she was too generous with how many chances she gave someone; how much stock she put in them to be a better person. Anyway, last I heard, Comox went out East... Somewhere in Halifax or something like that. As much as I disliked him, I really don't think he had anything to do with this."

"And what about that manager—Laura Monson—who resigned last year under a cloud of controversy?" asked Patterson.

"Lisa wasn't even in the country when all that business with Shooting Star occurred," Harry said dismissively. "And Laura's decision to resign from Fairfield was her own."

"All right, level with us, Mr. Wilkes: did Lisa have any enemies in her business dealings? Disgruntled clients?" asked Kavanaugh.

"'Enemies'? 'Disgruntled clients'?" Harry echoed as he frowned, the furrows in his brow creasing deeply. "Not really. Fairfield is well-respected all over the world. Sure there have been clients who weren't happy with every single horse they ever bought from Lisa. But that's the nature of the business. Horses can come up lame. Winning potential isn't always fully realised. Like I said: Everyone loved Lisa. Well, that is to say... almost everyone..."

Kavanaugh looked at him sharply at this admission. "Explain."

Harry did not answer for a few beats, fumbling to find the right way to phrase the unsettling thoughts flitting through his mind. "Okay, it's not something we like to talk about," he began slowly, "but there are a lot of people out there who want to see horse racing go away. Permanently. They point to horse fatalities on the racetrack as reason enough to shut down the sport entirely. Fairfield has not been immune to that kind of criticism."

"And that 'criticism' you're talking about—anybody in particular been more than just a critic?" Kavanaugh queried.

There was a short pause while Harry considered the question carefully. "There was an animal rights group a while back," he eventually muttered, voice dripping with contempt. "Lisa got some nasty emails when one of her horses died in an accident on the racetrack. But it was an accident, pure and simple—not due to animal cruelty or mistreatment—not that any of it mattered to that particular group."

"Did Lisa report these 'nasty emails' to the police?" asked Patterson.

Harry frowned slightly. "I'm not sure. Maybe. She really didn't let that sort of thing get under her skin. Lisa loved those animals and she made sure they got the best care when they were at Fairfield. I just can't believe what's happened. Lisa didn't deserve this. I thank God her father isn't around anymore, because this would have killed him. I don't know what we're going to do... Lisa... you poor kid..."

"Mr. Wilkes, once again, you have our sympathies," Patterson said. "Thank you for answering our questions. I know this news has been very difficult for you."

Harry blew his nose again and nodded. "You're welcome. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Just a few more questions, if that's okay," Kavanaugh said.

"All right," Harry said, resigned to the fact the cops were still not finished. "Go on."

"Can you share with us what you thought about Lisa's marriage to Jack Bartlett? A man several years older, and significantly less wealthy than she was?"

"Wait, you think Jack had anything to do with this?" he exclaimed. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. From the times I've been able to meet him, he was nothing but devoted to Lisa. And compared to her ex-husband Dan, Jack is head and shoulders above. Lisa was never happier than when she got married to Jack. You're barking up the wrong tree, detectives. There's no way Jack Bartlett would hurt Lisa!"

Kavanaugh and Patterson exchanged a look. If there had been any lingering doubts as to Jack Bartlett's innocence, Harry had put them to rest.

"Is that all, now?" Harry asked, willing himself to calm down.

"That about covers our questions, Mr. Wilkes, but the last thing we need from you is access to all of Lisa Stillman's office files, computers and laptops, everything."

"I assume you came with a warrant?" he asked.

Kavanaugh showed Harry the document.

"Thanks," he said after looking at the judge's signed request. "Come with me. You take whatever you need if you think it will help catch the monster who did this."

"Chief, we've picked up Stillman's office PC and her work laptop along with a bunch of office files and correspondence," Kavanaugh said after dialing his boss' cell before driving off from Fairfield.

"Excellent. We'll get Benoit and the computer forensics team to go over Stillman's digital files and emails," Parker said. "See if they can come up with anything."

"We may already have a lead on that," Kavanaugh said. "Harry Wilkes says that 'Animals Have Rights Too' group had been sending Stillman some nasty messages, criticizing the horseracing industry."

"Oh, really," Parker said. "Looks like we need to find out if that animal rights group has been doing more than just sending 'nasty' messages critical of horse racing."

"You think they'd resort to murder to save the lives of a few horses?" Kavanaugh asked as he paused before buckling his seatbelt.

"I think people will resort to whatever means necessary if they think their cause is justified."

***

BREAKING NEWS

Shooting Victim Succumbs to Injuries After Brazen Second Attack

May 4, 2019

The Hudson Times—Online Version

Nadir Jutley

The motorist critically injured in a shooting on Range Road 292 has died. Calgary homicide detectives are actively investigating after the case took a dramatic turn last night at the South Calgary Health Campus. The victim, identified as notable Hudson resident Lisa Stillman, had initially undergone life-saving surgery, but was attacked in her hospital room by an unknown assailant. Attempts to revive Stillman by hospital staff were unsuccessful.

Police believe the killer managed to obtain a hospital ID access badge and entered the unit dressed as a medical professional. He escaped before hospital security personnel could apprehend him. Traffic cameras in the area appear to show the same man fleeing on a motorcycle. A Canada-wide APB has been issued.

Hospital administrators were not at liberty to comment on the incident due to the on-going nature of the investigation, but wish to assure the public that there is no current risk to patient safety.

Lisa Stillman was a well-known member of the local and international horse racing community. She was the owner and operator of Fairfield Stables, a thoroughbred breeding facility established by her late father, Matthew Stillman, in 1951.

She is survived by her husband, Foothills Rodeo Hall of Fame inductee Jackson Bartlett, one sister Rachel Stillman, nephew Benjamin Stillman, as well as numerous step-grand, and great-grandchildren.

Calgary Police are asking anyone with information to contact them immediately.

Email: nadir_jutley

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

It did not take long for Parker's team to uncover unsettling messages while combing through Lisa's email account.

"Look at this one, Chief," said Det. Benoit. "This must be the group Wilkes was talking about: a group calling themselves 'AHRT'.

"Yes, that's that group. I've heard of them before," said Parker.

"Yeah?" Benoit said, turning to look at his boss.

"They're small, but they have chapters all over the country, including one here in Alberta. Stands for 'Animals Have Rights Too'. They've had a few protests here and there; mostly at the racetracks and especially at the Calgary Stampede. A couple of their members once got into an altercation with some chuckwagon fans. But anyway, what does the email say?"

"See for yourself," Benoit said, swiveling the monitor around for Parker to read.

Re: STOP ANIMAL CRUELTY NOW!

Lisa Stillman: someone should make you run around in circles until you drop dead. or until you break both your legs and they have to put you down. wouldn't that be sporting? we would pay to see them euthanize you and everyone else like you in the horse-killing business. you're all sick and what you do to horses is loathsome. you know what you are doing is wrong. you breed these animals to such extremes that it is no longer natural. you force them to race when you know their legs cannot tolerate the stress. they die painful and unnecessary deaths. and it's all your fault. we're warning you: leave the horses alone. stop the barbaric practice of horse breeding for racing, or face the consequences!

-AHRT

"What do you think? Sounds like a threat to me," Benoit said.

"But nothing specific, aside from that vague 'or face the consequences' bit," sighed Parker. "I wish Stillman had reported this when she received it."

"Hey, you guys, you'll want to see this!" Kavanaugh called out to the team. "This is the latest entry from the AHRT Blog. As in they just posted it. It's pretty chilling."

ANIMALS HAVE RIGHTS TOO

A Blog

Date: May 4, 2019

Someone's Offing Rich Horsey People. We Ain't Even Mad.

Don't get us wrong. Of course it's not cool when some gun-crazy lunatic goes on a killing spree. But when his victims happen to be the very people who contribute the most to the unchecked cruelty towards horses? Well, let's just say we're not shedding any tears.

The first was Valerie Stanton, owner of Briar Ridge Stables in Hudson in the province of Alberta, Canada. Now she was a piece of work. Rumor has it she once sold her own daughter's prize jumper to slaughter. He barely avoided the meat truck, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Former Briar Ridge Stables staff and trainers report Stanton was abusive and would flip out over the slightest problems and mistakes. She was known to use whips on horses that did not clear jumps. Anyway, she won't be using whips any longer because some generous soul put Stanton out of her misery with a well-placed bullet.

The latest offender to take a much-deserved dirt-nap is Lisa Stillman, owner of Fairfield Stables, also of Hudson, Alberta. You'll remember this particular piece of horse-murdering scum. It was her horse Pioneer that had to be put down at Century Downs a few years ago. These bloggers personally warned Stillman numerous times about the dangers of breeding thoroughbreds to the point that their legs are so spindly they can't run a quarter-mile without breaking a foreleg. She of course completely ignored everything sent her way, choosing instead to risk the lives of innocent animals, all for the allure of a big prize purse and fame. Stillman won't be chasing after blood money ever again after a couple bullets flew her way. We're pretty sure one went straight through her cold, dark heart, and the other went through her thick skull. (At least something finally did!)

Oh, in case you needed any more proof of Stillman's proclivities and the kind of company she kept, here's an undated picture of her at Santa Anita with Riley and Elspeth Penfield. The Penfields are another couple of royal snobs who fancy themselves horse racing experts. Yeah, so expert that every race horse they've ever owned came in nearly dead last, and as a consequence ended up dead in the glue factory.

You're all of course familiar with Santa Anita, where it's "abandon all hope, ye who enter here"—if you happen to have four legs, a tail and a mane, that is. Over a dozen horses have met grisly deaths at Santa Anita within the past 10 years. They should switch around the order of a few letters in "S-a-n-t-a" and get a much more appropriate name for the place, if you get the drift.

Anyhow, we salute you, whoever you are, for making this world a safer place for equines everywhere; at least those in Hudson. You deserve an award for your service.

-AHRT Staff

"Disgusting," Patterson said with a shake of her head.

"What I wanna know is how these 'AHRT Staff' writers knew those details about Stillman's shooting," Benoit observed. "We made sure the media never specified."

"Could be a lucky guess, or even a little creative wishful thinking on their part, but you're right," Parker said. "It's a little too much of a coincidence Stillman was shot in the left side and the head. I want to talk to these people, Benoit. Get me some names and addresses. I have so many questions for them."

"Okay, we have some of these AHRT people in the system already," Benoit said after a few keystrokes returned the desired results. "Mostly public mischief stuff and some restraining orders. One, in fact, issued by Valerie Stanton a few years ago, like her son said."

"Names, please, Benoit."

"Coming up, sir," Benoit said. "We've got a Margot Gwyneth Carpenter of Red Deer, Alberta; Layton Luther Moffett of Calgary—"

"Layton Moffett?" Patterson repeated, looking at the picture of the man in question as Benoit flashed it on the TV screen. "Chief, he was on the scene at Lisa Stillman's shooting."

Parker glared back at her. "Are you certain?"

"One hundred percent, sir," she asserted. "He stopped his little orange Smart car along with some of the rubbernecking drivers that afternoon. The difference was he actually got out. Didn't get in the way, but was asking questions of anyone who would give him the time of day."

"Then it's possible he could have seen her injuries from where he was," Benoit said.

"Possibly," Patterson replied slowly. "It would explain how the AHRT staffers knew where and how many times Stillman was shot so they could write it up for the blog entry."

"I still don't like it," Parker grumbled. "Let's bring Moffett in for a bit of questioning; find out exactly what he was doing out here and how much he knows about what happened."

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

Layton Luther Moffett appeared wary and alert when Chief Parker sat down with Detective Kavanaugh to question him two hours later.

After reminding the young man he was merely being questioned and that he was free to go at any time, Parker began to drill him.

"Do you recognize the name 'Lisa Stillman'?"

"Sure do," Layton said with a bob of his head, almost cracking a smile. "Heard she just died. Heard someone shot her and then someone attacked her in her hospital room. Guess someone really wanted her dead, eh? What is this world coming to?"

"What were you doing out on Range Road 292 on the afternoon of May 2nd?"

"I was out for a country drive," Layton said airily.

"No crime against that, of course," Parker said.

"Nope," Layton said. "You're going to ask me why I stopped on that drive, aren't you?"

"As a matter of fact, we are," Parker said. "Why did you stop?"

"Because there was a car accident," Layton said. "I know First Aid. I thought I could be of assistance. But the paramedics were there already, so it was all good. I mean, all good then. Obviously it wasn't 'all good' for Lisa Stillman once she got to the hospital."

Both Parker and Kavanaugh took note of his almost blasé attitude. He seemed almost pleased to talk about what he knew of Lisa's fate as a small smirk tugged at his lips.

"You live in the northwestern quadrant of the city of Calgary," Parker said, returning to Layton's reasons for lurking around Hudson. "Do you often take drives out to Hudson?"

"When the mood strikes me," Layton said with an air of indifference, peering at his fingernails.

"What do you know about a horse by the name of 'Herring'?" Parker asked.

Layton's glance shifted from his hands to Parker's face. "I heard Lisa Stillman was the owner," the young man finally answered after a few beats. "I heard he was hurt by a bear after..."

"After what?" Parker prompted.

Layton swallowed. "After that Valerie Stanton woman from Briar Ridge was shot dead."

"And what can you tell us about that, Mr. Moffett?" Kavanaugh asked.

"Only what I saw in the news," Layton replied, though the officers could see he was growing more nervous.

"Funny that," Parker said. "The name of the horse was never made public. Care to change your answer?"

Layton appeared instantly uncomfortable. "Okay, look," he said, squirming slightly. "Our staff occasionally pose as potential buyers for horses we think are at risk for abuse or the meat truck. Herring was one of those horses."

"Let's say for a moment we believe you," Parker said, humouring the man, "how did you find out it was Herring that was injured?"

"We just put two and two together," Layton replied. "I called the Fairfield office a few weeks ago saying I was interested in buying him. Look, the Fairfield website lists all its available stock for everyone to see. It's not a crime to look at horses on websites, is it?"

"No, it's not," Parker conceded. "Now get to the part where you know it was Herring!"

"I called Fairfield again yesterday," Layton said. "I said I had not forgotten about Herring and hoped Fairfield had enough safety precautions in place to prevent bear attacks from happening like the one I'd read about."

"So you were just fishing for information," Kavanaugh said.

"Yeah," Layton admitted. "And the man I spoke to told me all the horses at Fairfield were safe, but that unfortunately they could not control what happened to horses off-site, and that Herring had indeed been hurt. He was all apologetic, like I'd be upset I couldn't buy the horse right away and they'd lose out on a sale. It's always money with those people."

Parker and Kavanaugh exchanged a look. The story seemed plausible.

"Look, if no one there is concerned about that horse past what profits it can make them—"

"Enough with your posturing, Mr. Moffett," Parker snapped in annoyance. "We're not done questioning you."

Layton crossed his arms in sullen defiance. "What else, then?"

"We know Valerie Stanton had issued a restraining order against you and the other members of the 'Animals Have Rights Too' Alberta chapter. If we find out you've been in violation of that—"

"She's dead now, so why should it matter?" Layton smarmily interrupted. "But even when she was alive, I didn't pass within 100 yards of Stanton, or her horses, or her property after that bogus order was placed. I'm a law-abiding citizen who exercises his right to freedom of speech and freedom of expression. People like Valerie Stanton and Lisa Stillman get away with animal abuse all the time, and you people turn a blind eye. You waste your time threatening us with arrest when you ought to be investigating people like them for verifiable crimes against innocent animals."

"Are you done?" Parker asked, unmoved by Layton's impassioned speech.

"Yeah," Layton mumbled. "Can I go, now? I haven't done anything wrong, and I certainly didn't shoot Valerie Stanton or Lisa Stillman, if that's what you're really wondering. I don't even own a firearm."

"We already knew that," Kavanaugh said, "but thanks for saying so."

"One last question, Mr. Moffett," Parker said.

"What?"

"You were driving into Hudson when Lisa Stillman was shot," Parker said. "Do you recall passing someone on a motorbike heading in the opposite direction?"

"Maybe," Layton said.

"Yes or no, Moffett!" Parker barked.

"Look, I read the papers," Layton eventually said. "I know you were looking for a guy on a motorcycle as a 'person of interest' in the shooting, or whatever. And you know what? Yeah, I did see a guy on a motorcycle when I was driving in to Hudson that day. But that's all I'm going to tell you, because quite frankly, whoever that guy is? He's a hero for trying to take out Stillman. He deserves an award."

"Kavanaugh, get him out of my sight," Parker growled in disgust. "I don't want to see you in Hudson ever again, Mr. Moffett, do I make myself clear? Now get out of here!"

***

Chapter 9: Dark Horse Candidate

[anotherbeingsworld]

Fly High

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine) 

Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey Valentine and Teresa Martinez. 

Summary: The small moments with Mr.s Martinez were playing in their mind a year after the inevitable happens. 

TW: death. 

A/N: hi! I am sorta-back in the writing game? This idea has been living in my mind as OPH is coming. Its somewhat a tribute to Mrs. Martinez, and with a small touch of backstory between Bryce and Casey. I’m so sorry for not writing as much as I did before, uni is almost coming to an end for the 2nd semester which i am quite excited for. But, this story is dear to my heart. Idk why I love to write death, as i somewhat resonates it with life, but...this really is something I am very proud of. I like to dedicate this to those who wants to catch their dreams but, they couldn’t. Mrs. Martinez really gave us good advice, and...I’d like for it to stay in our minds. Also, I’m dedicating this to those who have leave a mark in my life. Its something that still blows me away everyday. Thank you, and enjoy! <3 

MY MASTERLIST

"I would take a 99% chance of dying over spending the next ten years in this hospital. To have even a 1% chance of exploring the world... of finally standing on the steps of Sacre-Coeur... I would give everything."—Mrs. Martinez.

---------

365 days ago. 

“Teresa Martinez were found dead at her hotel room in Buenos Aires.” was the topic in the hospital that day. The news of Mr.s Martinez leave the hospital devastated, as the world seems to stop for Casey. 

It doesn’t feel real. It’s not real, she is living her life happily in Paris...visiting the Sacre-Coeur. She can’t be...  

The thoughts were interrupted by the sound of ambulance coming in, a trauma case distracting her thoughts. She quickly joined in the other interns in the scene, but her mind falls onto Mr.s Martinez; the advice she left. A wisdom, as her passing is similar to a shooting star finally burns out. A light that has to be left behind. The days went by quicker, a trial, law-suit occurs in a blink of an eye. 

---------

PRESENT DAY 

It was a day of remembrance today, as Bryce and Casey make their way to the hospital in a slow pace. It was an emotional day for all of them, as all their memories were playing. All the laughter and joy, it was one of her favorite things about her. Her cheery persona was the heart of Edenbrook, and without her; a light has been burn, but a star has obtain someone special to keep on shining them from a far. 

Bryce was awfully quiet as well, as they walked down the road after spending their night together. Words were unspoken the night before, as the comfort was worth more than a sentence, a word and even a rhyme. 

Casey found herself to a stop, at the entrance. A distance away, trying to calmed herself down. He broke the silence by placing his hand on her cheek, caressing it with a small smile on his face.

‘You cam do this okay, we are all here for you.’ He said before pulling her into a kiss, as they melt into an embrace before going their separate ways. He stops in the mid of the hallway, his eyes fall onto her as they were met with a pair of emeralds that is already looking at him. 

They both resume their day, as the memories followed them throughout the hour. A reminder that she had left a mark to everyone in Edenbrook including one Casey Valentine and Bryce Lahela. 

----------

C A S E Y

The voices around her fades, as she sat on the empty bench, letting out a sigh as she was dismissed by Dr. Mirani upon her mistake today in the patient room. She remembers the embarrassment as the other interns let out a chuckle upon her mistake, moments before she was chewed. It was her second week as an intern, and she has made mistakes; what happened to her? 

Her thoughts were interrupted by someone occupying a seat the opposite of her. It was Mrs Martinez letting out a breath with her I.V stand on her side, looking at her with concern. She smiled upon her arrival as she remembers the events on their first meet which involves herself being lost in the hospital during her first day with Elijah. 

Weeks later, she became close to her as she learns upon her love towards travelling, visiting new places around the world; from the Bright Lights of Paris to the city of Madrid. And, the thought of the postcards hanging in her room bring joy to her, as a reminder of her own dream to be a doctor. 

“Casey dear, what’s with the long face?” She spoke, as Casey lets out a sigh.

“I just, I messed up again. It’s been a month, and I tend to get distracted with everything; friendships, the competition, dreading patients, and everything feels too overwhelming.” She burried her face in her hands, trying to hide her expression from the woman in front of her.

After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes once more to be met with a concerned looking Mr.s Martinez. 

“Dear, you are not human if you never messed up. If I ever got a dollar for every time I took a wrong turn in life, I believe I can afford a mansion in the city of Stars.” 

Casey lets out a chuckle upon the mention of it, as the smile slowly appear on her face. 

“I think I’d be able to pay up my student loans that way.” 

There was a ripple of laughter between them, lighten up the mood releasing a knot on her shoulders that has been there for the day. 

“Indeed, but I saw you work that day; and I believe you are going places dear. You are unique, and the world is not ready to see the light in you dim. For the last decades of living, I made a huge mistake of not pursuing my dreams; and I don’t want to see you give up this dream Casey.” Her voice is demanding yet calm giving her a sense of hope. 

They were interrupted by Danny who is in the midst of a scavenger hunt for one Mr.s Martinez who apparently has left her room once again.

“There you are Mr.s Martinez, its time for your medicine once again.” Danny said as he smiles upon their interaction.

“I guess my time is up. I had fun chatting with you dear, I’ll see you soon.” Mr.s Martinez left with Danny leaving her alone with the wild thoughts once again. 

But, this moment; she received a sense of hope. Maybe it will be okay after all. 

----------

B R Y C E

The first day as a surgical intern at Edenbrook. He was finally a surgeon, all those years of bartending was worth it. His confidence somewhat pushed people away, as he shrugs the feeling off. He came here to be the best, and not to find friends. 

“Welcome interns. Today is the start of your careers as a surgical intern, and I am ecstatic for what all of you could bring to the table.” the Dr. Harper Emery exclaims happily, as she eyed the crowd of surgeons.

There was a round of applause, as the energy in the room was accumulated. 

“I will introduce you to Dr. Tanaka who is one of your surgical residents. He will be guiding you through this journey. Some of you will fall, quit, but some of you will rise and it will be worth it in the end.” 

After the introduction was done, the crowd was dismissed as the first rounds of the day begun for the surgical interns. 

His heart was filled with excitement, a new beginning. A new slate, and a new chance to not become known. That is the whole reason from the beginning. He is Bryce Lahela, a surgeon. Nothing else more. 

As the days go by, he has been able to witness the procedures that were taught during his years at medical school. His gaze was equivalent to one who looks at their favorite food which is filled with awed and joy. As someone who would fixed up the problems at home, surgery made him feel fulfill once again. It is giving him a purpose even after everything that has happened. 

“Dr Lahela, earth to Dr. Lahela.” A voice called for him brought him back from his subconscious. 

“Yes, I’m here.” He replied as the other interns were found laughing silently at the back.

“What is the first step to perform a  Laparoscopic appendectomy?’ Dr. Tanaka questioned him with Dr. Emery on his side observing. All of the eyes fall on him.

It was his moment to show that he is worth it today, and everyday for the rest of his life.

We will access the appendix through a few small incisions in the abdomen as a cannula which is a small, narrow tube  will then be inserted. It is used to inflate the abdomen with carbon dioxide gas which allows us to see the appendix more clearly...” He paused, as he took a deep breath before resuming his explanation. 

“Once the abdomen is inflated,  a laparoscope will be inserted through the incision. It is a long, thin tube with a high-intensity light and a high-resolution camera at the front which will display the images on a screen, allowing us to see inside of the abdomen and guide the instruments. When the appendix is found, it will be tied off with stiches and removed. The small incisions are then cleaned, closed, and dressed.” His final words fall as somehow equivalent to a mic-drop earning both smiles from the two doctors, as they resumed with rounds for the day. 

He took a minute to be proud of himself, as it is a reminder that he is here to stay. 

After rounds was over, he is officially a surgeon. He was assigned under Dr. Tanaka as he was his resident along with a few other interns. It was really happening, the suprised dream he had that was meant to be an escape; has came true today.

“Dr. Lahela, I would like you to scrub in with me to perform your very first appendectomy in the O.R” Dr. Tanaka said, as his smile was wide filled with joy which was taken away by the growling voices of the other interns behind him. 

He ignored them, as he started to scrub in. The looked that was dedicated to him was somewhat a deja vu moment, a moment where he was known as the son of a criminal. The hatred eyes that is coming to him, attacking him slowly as it was disguised by the confident exterior. 

He shake the thoughts away, getting himself prep in the O.R for his first surgery, but some demons never left as he tried his best. 

After they were dismissed, he took a turn to the cafeteria as a distraction. It wasn’t the best, maybe he hoped it would be like the movies; he would be the protagonist, the hero. Instead, it was the joker. 

He decides upon a snicker bar from one of the vending machines, as the line piled up. He took a seat at the edge of the room, with his pager present on the table. A breath was taken, calming the rage and expectations in him. 

The occupied thoughts were interrupter by a woman, looking at her once again with concern. 

“You should try this, it’s the cafeteria signature.” The voice was soft, comforting as she passed a pudding cup his way. Chocolate to be specific. 

“It’s just a pudding cup, mr.s” He chuckled upon the small cup, as Mr.s Martinez joined him on the empty seats. 

“It’s more than a pudding cup, it’s the cure of sadness actually.” She gestures upon him, as realization hits him.

“I didn’t hide it hard enough didn’t I?” 

She just shake his head, as he held the pudding cup in his hands. 

“You must be one of the new interns aren’t you, the outfit reminds me of a young Harper Emery during her own residency.” She gestures towards his green scrubs. 

“She was the legend, and you have seen her work here before??” His eyes shine upon the name.

“Son, I have been in this hospital for the last decade. I have known all the residents for some times now, there was a lot a person can go through for the last 10 years.” She stated as Bryce was filled with awe. 

“So, tell me what’s with the long face; I thought it was supposed to be an exciting start.”  

“I woke up today feeling on top of the world, but coming here feels like the past haunting me once again. The eyes, the look, and...it reminds me of something I always wanted to forget.” He lets out a small sigh upon the statement, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it feels go to have someone to listen. 

“The past, its always going to be there to haunt us. Sometimes, history repeats itself to prove how strong you are. You have been through a lot and you survived, you are a doctor today dear. This chance is bigger than any doubt, any pain, any memory that you have been through. I have seen the doctors here grow, some had left to pursue something easier, some even crack under the pressure, but some also thrive in excellence. Those people have fought to survive, and that’s what life is about dear. Fighting to survive, I am fighting too. It felt like a long journey for the past 10 years, but some adventures are worth to take to get to the final destination.” She ends the speech with a smile, as she left him with his thoughts once again. 

It feels like a fever-dream, but it is true. Maybe, he will make it after all with a pack of chocolate pudding by his side. 

Suddenly, his pager starts to beep. A new chance to start again, a new hope was in-stored. He took a final bite before leaving the room, feeling okay for the first time that day. 

----------

PRESENT DAY 

The day passes by quickly, as the reminders and memories kept on replaying in their minds. A sign from her, a message possibly, a lingering gift from the beyond. 

Casey met up with Bryce at the entrance, they have plans that evening. Both of them are already dressed in black which replaces the scrubs from the day; Luis invited them that day to pay their respects for Mrs. Martinez. The whole gang followed, as it is better to face the inevitable together- making it less scarier. 

The evening was peaceful, it was beautiful even. The leaves started to fall, its a start of a new season; some would say a new chapter. They met with Luis to pay their respects to the woman who had changed all of their lives, as they changed hers even for a moment. 

They paid their respects together, as Casey lets out of her silent wishes for Mrs. Martinez. It took a few moments before she was met with his comforting gaze once more, as she nods in completion.  Their reunion with Luis was a pleasant one, as he thanked them once more; despite everything. It echo’s in her mind, word-by-word. 

‘You give my mom her happiness, the one thing I couldn’t. I will never thank you enough for the little miracle that had happened. I was pissed when I found out, but...you manage to give her the signature Martinez’s smile once more. Thank you.’

Luis excused himself from the group, as they were pulled into a group hug. Mrs. Martinez gave each and everyone of them a purpose. Something that she couldn’t see before. 

After they bid their farewell,  Bryce and Casey walked hand-in-hand making their way back home as they talked about life, memories, and even happiness. It was a beautiful ending for their day, as the sunset was their backdrop, it was what life is all about. 

She finally started to live life, as he continues to pursue his dream. Maybe even found himself a new dream as well. 

----------

‘Life to one Teresa Martinez ; it was an unforgettable journey. She believed in the impossible, she took a risk that wasn’t mean to be taken by any other. She trusted me, and that was everything. But, the news - it was a tragedy. Death is a tragedy, as life was taken away from us. But, Teresa Martinez’s death reminds us of the dreams that we wanted to catch. The dreams that were left behind, the dreams that were abandoned in the dust. It was a dream that is worth following for, even if it ends upon your death bed. She believed in me during my dark times, and the reminder of one Teresa Martinez, is something we can’t turn back from. But, the advices and love she has left behind is a reminder that those who are gone...will always be with us, we can’t see them, but there are always there guiding us, cheering us on even after they have left us behind. Teresa Martinez lived a good life, and she will never be forgotten as she is flying high at somewhere better.’  

THE END. 

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[reidglasess]

Ribs

 Summary: Y/N and Spencer are dating and Spencer came home to and Empty house he called you and you picked up telling him you were around the corner at the pharmacy getting snacks he hangs up and you continue your way home when something happens ( GIF IS NOT MINE) - TELL ME IF I’M MISSING ANY WARNINGS!!!!

Pairing: Y/N x Spencer Reid

Warning: Mentions of death, Mentions of car accident , wholesome ig?

I was in Isle 4 when my Phone rang and i took it out of my pocket and saw Spencer was calling me so i  picked up and he asked me where i was and i tell him that i was at the store and he tells me  i love you  and that he’ll see me home and then hangs up.

 I eventually check out, Only  coming to the store for a box of popcorn some chips and drinks. It was raining and i loved the rain it always felt so calm and relaxing it made you feel at home but one thing led to another and next thing I knew there was a bright light coming closer and closer and just like that I was out and all i remember was feeling cold and sleepy.

It was all Happening so fast you were admiring the rain not paying attention to the road and before you know all of your memories are being played like if it was a movie. The first thing i saw was my very first Memory with Spencer.

It was my First Day working at the B.A.U you were Elle Greenway’s Replacement and to say the least you were nervous and sacred but didn’t let it show, but to your dismay you where greeted by the spill of a very hot liquid on you. The person responsible for the hot coffee spilt on you speaks up and says “ I’M So So So Sorry” he looks at you as if trying to search for any signs of anger but doesn’t find anything i finally speak up and say “ It’s okay it’s not your fault i wasn’t looking where i was going” looking up and finding a man surprisingly taller than me with messy hair and some glasses i manage to remove  my stained shirt and leave myself with a tank top and some jeans and sneakers.

The drink you spilt all over me.

i muster the courage and ask him “ hey do you know where i can find Aaron Hotchner’s office?”  he looks at me funny and takes me to his office and once i get there it turns white and i’m back at my car and all i can hear are voices but i don’t recognize them. One of them tells me “ Miss are you okay, what’s your name, do you know someone who can come and get you.”

'Lover's Spit' left on repeat

But before i can even answer im being sucked into the light again and this time i’m not at the B.A.U i’m with spencer in front of my house and he looking at me and i see him kiss me and once that happened i could feel his lips on mine the love radiating from his body this was mine and spencer’s first kiss he told me if i wanted to be his girlfriend and i said yes, i remember being so happy and excited that i was his and he was mine.

I feel pressure on my chest when i open my eyes i see a man doing movements on my chest i look at him and he’s wearing a medics uniform nest i know there’s flashing red lights and i fall back into a pit of darkness soon turing into light and im back into my memories but this time its different i’m back home with my parents.

My mom and dad let me stay home

Mom Dad!! please let me stay home!!! i don’t feel like going to Auntie Katies house all she does is talk about her and how great her life is going and how she’s way better than us. My Parents look at me and say “ Okay fine but no boy’s no making a mess and don’t open the door to strangers”. I look at them and say “ Thank you so much” 

I hear the voices again they get closer and close until i make them up and i manage to say “ S-S-Spencer” the Medic looks at me and he says “ Who’s Spencer Miss” trying to keep me awake and then i say “ S-Spencer R-Reid” and then after that i knock back out and see more of my lovely memories.

It drives you crazy getting old

Happy birthday to you.. Happy Birthday to you.. Happy Birthday. Dear Y/N Happy Birthday to youuu!!! Claps and whistles can be heard in the meeting room as J.J comes in with a cake with two Candles that have the numbers 30 on them and i think to myself how fast the years have gone by Spencer comes up to me and kisses me on the cheek and says “ Happy birthday Love..”.

We can talk it so good We can make it so divine We can talk it good How you wish it would be all the time

You wake up again feeling even more tired than you were before and this time your laying down and you being pushed on your back on a bed with bright lights on top of you. I being to turn my head when i see Spencer i lift my arm for him and he notices and says “ Y/N please stay with me i can’t lose you i’m nothing without you please please i need you here with me, i was planning on catching you by surprise i was going to propose to you i need you here i want a life with you please don’t leave i love you so much”

I start to feel cold and sleepy and i get brought back to my memories just that instead of reliving them one by one i see all of them at the same time, and i can feel myself start to cry and i no longer feel cold and tired but as soon as the feeling goes away it comes back 1 ten times more worse and i’m at my childhood home and i see my mom she’s looking at me and comes up to me and says “ Y/N baby is that you ?” I walk up to her and say “ Mama ?” she looks at me with a smile on her face and says “ What are you doing here it’s not time yet mija” i look at her in confusion and i say “ Mama am i dead?” he walks closer and says “ No mija your in between you can choose to leave everyone or you can come with me” apart of me wants to leave and another wants to stay.

This dream isn't feeling sweet We're reeling through the midnight streets And I've never felt more alone It feels so scary getting old

Meanwhile Spencer come through the Surgery doors and saw that you were flatlining and he came to your side and said “ Y/N please come back to me don’t leave me yet please i need you the team needs you”

You hear this in your state of mind and you can tell your mom does to and she says “ From the looks of it that boy of yours wants you to come back” i look at her and say “ yeah spencer is great you would love him” i smile at thought of me and Spencer i look at my mom and i say “ Mom.. i think i’m going to back to spencer i need him and he needs me” she smiles and says “ Okay mija i respect that plus i need some. grandbabies..”

Your heart on the monitor begins to beep again and spencer feels a wave of happiness and hope, next thing you know your awake in a hospital bed with and I.V in your arm and a nasal cannula you look around but only see blurry and you speak out in a hoarse voice “ S-Spencer” you try and sit up but he quickly beats you and says “ NO-No don’t get up you can hurt yourself” i look at him and says “ What Happened” he looks down at his hands and says “ what do you remember” i look into the distance and say “ i remember driving back home, admiring the rain next thing i know i’m watching my memories” he looks up from his hands and says “ The roads were wet and slippery some jackass was going the wrong way and crashed into you”. 

( i skipped ahead a few )

You're the only friend I need (You're the only friend I need) Sharing beds like little kids (Sharing beds like little kids) And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (Laughing 'til our ribs get tough) But that will never be enough (But that will never be enough)You're the only friend I need (You're the only friend I need) Sharing beds like little kids (Sharing beds like little kids) And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (Laughing 'til our ribs get tough) But that will never be enough (But that will never be enough)

The nurse came in and asked if spencer was gonna stay and he said yes the nurse left and came back 10 min later with a pillow and blanket for the sofa after she leaves he climbs in next you on the hospital bed and you and him lay there in silence. Knowing that you are once again safe in his arms like many times before feeling that wave of a speedy recovery and you begin to feel sleepy, so you close your eyes and dream about a happy life with spencer.

( she did not die btw)