#pediatric equipment

[tranquilsanatorium]

Decorative children's MRI machines

[sopranoentravesti]

Sorry to be a member of the intelligentsia on main, but I’m really not interested in hearing your takes on psychology or neuroscience when you get all your information from YouTube videos and refuse to read a book or a paper on whatever your chosen topic du jour is

[mmarketdbmr]

Pediatric Medical Device Market – Industry Trends and Forecast to 2028 Opportunities: Growth, Share, Value, Size, and Scope

"Pediatric Medical Device Market Size And Forecast by 2028

According to Data Bridge Market Research The pediatric medical device market is expected to gain market growth in the forecast period of 2021 to 2028. Data Bridge Market Research analyses the market to account to USD 42,103.14 million by 2028 and is expected grow at a CAGR of 7.65% in the above mentioned forecast period.

Pediatric Medical Device Market is making significant strides in the industry with its latest advancements and strategic expansions. As a leading player, Pediatric Medical Device Market continues to revolutionize the sector with cutting-edge solutions and a commitment to excellence. The company’s recent initiatives have strengthened Children's Medical Equipment Market position in the global market, driving growth and innovation. With a strong focus on customer satisfaction, Pediatric Healthcare Devices Market has introduced new products and services designed to meet the evolving demands of consumers. By leveraging advanced technologies, Neonatal & Infant Devices Market is set to redefine industry standards and enhance its competitive edge.

Pediatric Medical Device Market remains dedicated to sustainability and market leadership through innovative approaches. The company has expanded its operations, ensuring Pediatric Therapeutic Devices Market footprint grows across multiple regions. With increasing demand, Pediatric Medical Device Market is investing in research and development to drive continuous improvement. The latest reports highlight Pediatric Medical Device Market impressive performance, reinforcing its role as a market leader. Moving forward, Child-Specific Medical Devices Market aims to strengthen its impact through sustainable and customer-centric solutions.

Our comprehensive Pediatric Medical Device Market report is ready with the latest trends, growth opportunities, and strategic analysis. https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-pediatric-medical-device-market

**Segments**

- **By Product Type**: The pediatric medical device market can be segmented based on the product type into diagnostic devices, therapeutic devices, monitoring devices, and surgical devices. Diagnostic devices include imaging systems, MRI machines, blood pressure monitors, glucose meters, and more. Therapeutic devices encompass ventilators, incubators, nebulizers, insulin pumps, and other devices used in treatment. Monitoring devices consist of ECG monitors, pulse oximeters, sleep monitors, and similar tools. Surgical devices cover a wide range from scalpels and forceps to advanced robotic surgical systems designed for pediatric procedures.

- **By End-User**: The market can also be segmented by end-user, with categories such as hospitals, specialty clinics, ambulatory surgical centers, and home healthcare settings. Hospitals are the primary users of pediatric medical devices, requiring a wide range of tools and equipment to treat pediatric patients. Specialty clinics focusing on pediatric care have specialized devices to cater to the unique needs of children. Ambulatory surgical centers use pediatric medical devices for outpatient procedures, while home healthcare settings may require devices that are suitable for use outside of traditional medical facilities.

- **By Geography**: Geographically, the global pediatric medical device market can be divided into North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America, and the Middle East and Africa. North America is a key market for pediatric medical devices due to the presence of advanced healthcare infrastructure and high healthcare spending. Europe follows closely, with a focus on technological advancements and pediatric healthcare innovation. The Asia Pacific region is witnessing significant growth driven by increasing healthcare investments and a growing pediatric population. Latin America and the Middle East and Africa regions are also showing potential for market growth with improving healthcare access and infrastructure.

**Market Players**

- **Medtronic**: A leading player in the pediatric medical device market, Medtronic offers a wide range of products for pediatric patients, including devices for diabetes management, cardiac care, and respiratory therapy.

- **Johnson & Johnson**: Another prominent player, Johnson & Johnson has a strong presence in the pediatric medical device market with offerings in areas such as orthopedics, surgery, and wound care for children.

- **Philips Healthcare**: Known for its innovative medical devices, Philips Healthcare provides pediatric solutions for imaging, monitoring, and respiratory care, ensuring specialized equipment for children's healthcare needs.

- **GE Healthcare**: With a focus on medical imaging and diagnostics, GE Healthcare offers a range of pediatric medical devices such as MRI machines, CT scanners, and ultrasound systems tailored for pediatric patients.

The global pediatric medical device market is experiencing growth driven by technological advancements, increasing pediatric healthcare needs, and expanding healthcare infrastructure worldwide. Market players are actively developing innovative solutions to meet the unique requirements of pediatric patients, ensuring a positive outlook for the market in the coming years.

https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-pediatric-medical-device-Market The pediatric medical device market continues to evolve, driven by advancements in technology and a growing demand for specialized healthcare solutions for children. One key trend that is shaping the market is the increasing focus on personalized and tailored medical devices for pediatric patients. As healthcare providers recognize the unique needs of children, there is a rising emphasis on developing devices that are specifically designed to provide accurate diagnostics, effective therapies, and precise monitoring for pediatric conditions. This shift towards personalized pediatric medical devices is enabling better outcomes, improved safety, and enhanced comfort for young patients, leading to a higher adoption rate among healthcare facilities and providers.

Another trend influencing the pediatric medical device market is the emphasis on minimally invasive procedures and interventions for children. As the healthcare industry continues to prioritize less invasive treatment options to reduce patient discomfort, improve recovery times, and minimize complications, there is a growing demand for pediatric medical devices that enable minimally invasive surgeries, diagnostic procedures, and monitoring techniques. Market players are investing in research and development to create innovative devices that cater to the unique anatomical and physiological characteristics of pediatric patients, promoting the adoption of minimally invasive approaches in pediatric healthcare settings.

Furthermore, the increasing prevalence of chronic diseases and complex medical conditions among children is driving the demand for advanced and sophisticated pediatric medical devices. Conditions such as diabetes, congenital heart defects, respiratory disorders, and neurological disorders require specialized devices for diagnosis, treatment, and management. Market players are focusing on developing cutting-edge devices that offer comprehensive solutions for managing chronic pediatric conditions, enhancing the quality of care, and improving long-term health outcomes for young patients. This trend is expected to fuel the growth of the pediatric medical device market as healthcare providers seek innovative technologies to address the complex healthcare needs of pediatric populations.

Additionally, the rise of telemedicine and remote monitoring in pediatric healthcare is creating new opportunities for market players to develop connected and smart pediatric medical devices. With the increasing adoption of telehealth services and remote patient monitoring platforms, there is a growing need for devices that can seamlessly integrate with digital health technologies to enable virtual consultations, real-time data tracking, and remote diagnostics for pediatric patients. By innovating in the space of connected pediatric medical devices, market players can enhance the delivery of care, improve patient outcomes, and increase access to specialized healthcare services for children in remote or underserved areas.

In conclusion, the pediatric medical device market is witnessing significant growth and innovation driven by the increasing demand for personalized, minimally invasive, advanced, and connected healthcare solutions for children. Market players are focusing on developing specialized devices to address the unique needs of pediatric patients, leveraging technology to improve care delivery, and expanding their product portfolios to cater to a diverse range of pediatric conditions. With the continuous emphasis on enhancing pediatric healthcare outcomes and experiences, the market is poised for continued expansion and development in the foreseeable future.**Segments**

Global Pediatric Medical Device Market, By Product: - Cardiology Devices - In Vitro Diagnostic (IVD) Devices - Diagnostic Imaging Devices - Telemedicine - Anesthesia and Respiratory Care Devices - Neonatal ICU Devices - Monitoring Devices - Others

End User: - Hospitals - Pediatric Clinics - Ambulatory Surgery Centers - Research and Academic Institutes - Others

Country: - U.S. - Canada - Mexico - Germany - Italy - U.K. - France - Spain - Netherland - Belgium - Switzerland - Turkey - Russia - Rest of Europe - Japan - China - India - South Korea - Australia - Singapore - Malaysia - Thailand - Indonesia - Philippines - Rest of Asia-Pacific - Brazil - Argentina - Rest of South America - South Africa - Saudi Arabia - UAE - Egypt - Israel - Rest of Middle East & Africa

Industry Trends and Forecast to 2028

**Market Players**

The major players covered in the pediatric medical device market report are Abbott, Boston Scientific Corporation, Cardinal Health, Stryker, F. Hoffmann-La Roche Ltd, Medtronic, GENERAL ELECTRIC COMPANY, Koninklijke Philips N.V., Baxter, Siemens Healthcare Private Limited, Johnson & Johnson Services, Inc., TSE MEDICAL, Hamilton Medical, Fritz Stephan GmbH, Phoenix Medical Systems, Novonate, Inc., 3M, SCHILLER Healthcare India Pvt. Ltd., NIPRO, and OLYMPUS CORPORATION among other domestic and global players. Market share data is available for Global, North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific (APAC), Middle East, and Africa (MEA), and South America separately. DBMR analysts understand competitive strengths and provide competitive analysis for each competitor separately.

The global pediatric medical device market is witnessing a surge in demand due to the increasing prevalence of pediatric healthcare needs and the rising focus on specialized healthcare solutions for children. The segmentation of the market based on product types like cardiology devices, diagnostic imaging devices, and telemedicine reflects the diverse range of tools and equipment required for pediatric care. With end-users ranging from hospitals to research institutes and a geographical spread across various regions, the market presents opportunities for growth and innovation.

Market players such as Abbott, Medtronic, and Philips Healthcare are at the forefront of developing advanced pediatric medical devices to cater to the specific needs of young patients. The emphasis on personalized and minimally invasive procedures is reshaping the market landscape, with a strong focus on enhancing patient outcomes and improving healthcare delivery. Additionally, the integration of telemedicine and remote monitoring solutions is opening new avenues for connected pediatric medical devices, facilitating virtual consultations and real-time data tracking for improved care management.

Looking ahead, the pediatric medical device market is set to experience continued growth driven by technological advancements, increasing healthcare investments, and the evolving healthcare landscape worldwide. As market players continue to innovate and expand their product portfolios to address the complex healthcare needs of pediatric populations, the market is poised for further development and expansion in the coming years.

The market is highly fragmented, with a mix of global and regional players competing for market share. To Learn More About the Global Trends Impacting the Future of Top 10 Companies in Pediatric Medical Device Market :   https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-pediatric-medical-device-market/companies

Key Questions Answered by the Global Pediatric Medical Device Market Report:

What is the current state of the Pediatric Medical Device Market, and how has it evolved?

What are the key drivers behind the growth of the Pediatric Medical Device Market?

What challenges and barriers do businesses in the Pediatric Medical Device Market face?

How are technological innovations impacting the Pediatric Medical Device Market?

What emerging trends and opportunities should businesses be aware of in the Pediatric Medical Device Market?

Browse More Reports:

https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-frozen-artichoke-markethttps://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-tatto-inks-markethttps://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-slim-cigarette-markethttps://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-wraparound-case-packers-markethttps://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-polyurethane-processing-machine-market

Data Bridge Market Research:

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[curekahealthcarestore]

 Flamingo Classic Powered Wheelchair Premium

Flamingo Classic Powered Wheelchair has joystick control and is easy to operate for elders and patients. It is a personal mobility aid for indoors and outdoors. It has an 18-inch-wide seat with a back rest, an arm rest, and a footrest for more comfort.

https://www.cureka.com/shop/healthcare-devices/mobility-aids/wheel-chair/flamingo-classic-powered-wheelchair-premium/

[medilifecompany]

https://medilife.in/pediatric-equipment-supplier-in-india/#

One of the most important pieces of equipment in pediatric care is the incubator. Incubators provide a controlled environment for premature babies, keeping them warm and helping them develop. Pediatric equipment suppliers in India offer a variety of incubators, including transport incubators, infant incubators, and neonatal incubators. These incubators are designed to provide a safe and comfortable environment for babies, ensuring that they receive the care they need.

[sayruq]

In January of 2024, Dr. Bara Zuhaili entered Gaza on a two-week medical mission with a U.S.-based organization, Rahma Worldwide. Dr. Zuhaili dedicated most of his time to Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al-Balah, central Gaza. While this was not his first experience in a wartime or crisis setting — he had undertaken medical missions in Syria and was in southern Turkey during the earthquake — it proved to be his most horrific. As a vascular surgeon, he was tasked with assisting Gazan doctors in one of the ugliest tasks of this war: amputations. A generation of amputees has emerged, with over 10 children losing one or more limbs per day, on average, since the beginning of the war. Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah called it “the biggest cohort of pediatric amputees in history.” Even this statistic, reported by UNICEF in December of 2023, is now outdated. The true number of men, women, and child amputees remains unknown, with estimates ranging upwards of 10,000 people. It is a number that will continue to rise as new and unknown weapons destroy tissue and bone, crumbling medical infrastructures and scarce supplies force constant life-and-death decisions, while infections and chronic illnesses — largely ignored — silently kill or handicap thousands.

Is this the first time you've worked in a war zone or in a humanitarian crisis? Did any of them prepare you for this? It was not the first time. Unfortunately, I had experience in Syria, working in the underground hospitals in the besieged areas of Aleppo and Idlib. There, the healthcare facilities were also under constant attack by the Syrian regime. But Gaza was unlike anything I had seen before. To start, the supply chain was completely broken. Supplies were extremely limited in Deir Al Balah, where I was based for most of my stay. The hospital functioned at only 5-10% capacity compared to any similar hospital in the Middle East—I'm not even talking about an American hospital. Then, there were the number of patients. Just to give you an idea: Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al Balah is only equipped for 150 patients. Under extreme circumstances, they could maybe stretch to accommodate up to 200 patients. When I arrived, there were 950 patients, in addition to over 20,000 refugees sleeping in the corridors of the hospital and its complex. Every time we experienced a bombardment, we had anywhere from 20 to 60 patients rushing in simultaneously, in addition to the patients already being treated. It was completely overwhelming and overcrowded. The third issue had to do with the type of injuries. I've seen a lot of trauma before — traumatic injuries are not new to me — but the level of trauma I saw was something I've never witnessed in my entire life. When I was in the operating room, I would get a call from the ER saying someone was shot in the leg and they needed me as soon as possible. In my mind, someone shot in the leg with a bullet would have an entry size of about five to six millimeters and an exit wound size of about two centimeters long. That is what I was familiar with. What I saw in Gaza — which I had never seen before — was literally as if an explosion, an RPG, had exploded into the leg. The entry wound would be about five to 10 centimeters wide and the exit wound would be almost 30 centimeters wide. One bullet would destroy a diameter of 10-15 centimeters… all of the muscle, bone, arteries, and nerves were all gone, destroyed.I'm not a military expert, I don't know much about weapons. But I don't know what kind of bullet can cause that much destruction. With a bullet wound in the U.S., I could get away with doing a bypass to salvage the leg. In Gaza, there was nothing anyone could do to salvage the leg. The amount of tissue damage forced me to do amputations almost every single time. 

Can you describe what a single day would look like? As a rule, anytime a bombardment happened, we would wait between four to eight hours before we received any injured people. In Deir Al-Balah, we would see the missile hitting two to three kilometers away and we knew that there were many casualties, but it would take these people — who were only three kilometers away from us — four to eight hours to reach our location. The IOF (Israeli Occupation Forces) prevented any ambulances from entering the scene, and anyone attempting to help or approach would be shot. I had many cases where the ambulance driver would come to me holding two or three kids. They were dead, and he would swear to me they were alive four hours ago. We lost a lot of lives just waiting to reach us in the hospital. Our days typically began around seven in the morning, and even though the night was filled with attacks and bombardments, no casualties would reach us before the morning. By then, we would go to the ER and try to start the triage process: determining who needs to go to the OR first and who could afford to wait. We would then perform surgeries throughout the day, often not finishing until one or two in the morning. Sometimes, if I had time, I would do my rounds to check on the patients, and by late afternoon, we would have more bombardments and injuries coming in until midnight. Usually, by midnight, things slowed down… not because there was no bombardment, but because they couldn't reach us anymore.

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 1

word count - 2,081

Humming under her breath, y/n waltzed to her last round of the night with a smile. The pediatric ward was finally quiet as the young patients slept. After the nonstop buzz of activity from the emergency rooms and worried families, y/n was ready for a breather.

As she passed the nurses station, her friend Destiney looked up from updating charts on the computer.

"Last hour, huh? Well, aren't you just flying through it?" she said with a smirk. She was well aware of y/n’s eagerness to go home.

“Smooth sailing from here,” y/n agreed, giving Destiney a grin. One more hour and her long awaited couch potato plans could begin.

She was planning a weekend of clubbing with her girlfriends at the bar downtown tomorrow night. Music, getting pretty and fruity cocktails awaited her outside of these cold walls.

y/n checked the time - only 30 minutes left in her shift. Just one more patient to check on before she could call it a night. Grabbing fresh gloves and vitals equipment, she made her way to the last room on her rotation.

Knocking gently before entering, she stepped inside. “Good evening Mr. Hughes, I’m y/n, the CNA on duty,” she introduced herself warmly to the young man sitting up in bed. “I just need to get your vitals and a blood sample if that’s alright.”

The brown-haired patient flashed her a charming smile. "Well Y/N. Lucky you," he said, a self-assured chuckle punctuating his words.

"Meeting someone like me doesn't happen every day," he quipped, his soft blue eyes meeting hers as he extended his arm, waiting for her to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it.

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Jack's confident demeanor, but she couldn't deny the charm that seemed to ooze from every pore of the young man. She nodded, playing along with his game.

"I'll try not to swoon, Mr. Hughes," she replied wryly, deftly velcroing the blood pressure cuff around his sculpted bicep. She couldn't help but notice how fit and strong he looked.

As the cuff inflated and she watched the gauge, y/n added casually, "So how's your pain by the way? Any headaches, dizziness, nausea? Or just a hard head keeping you comfortable?" Her no nonsense tone made it clear she wasn't here to get swept away by his antics.

"Oh there's no pain with you around to ease it," Jack replied smoothly, his voice like velvet. He ran a hand through his artfully mussed black hair. "But maybe a four outta ten. This hard head of mine has taken worse bumps on the ice and kept going."

Y/n maintained her professional composure, ignoring the way Jack's dark brown eyes seemed to gaze right through her. Clearing her throat, Y/n jotted a quick note, acutely aware of his eyes following her every move. The sharp antiseptic scent of the hospital couldn't mask his woodsy cologne.

"Well those other concussions must have rattled some sense into you then," she said. Clearly this patient was accustomed to wrapping girls around his finger with that smooth confidence of his.

Y/n made more small talk with Jack as she worked, carefully noting down his oxygen levels, temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure in his chart. Then she swiftly drew several vials of blood, applying a cottonball over the needle mark on his vein afterwards.

“All done, you did great, Mr. Hughes,” Y/N said with a smile, labeling the blood samples neatly to send to the lab. “Buzz if you need anything else tonight.” As she turned to leave, Jack called out to her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "You know, I wouldn't mind some company tonight. How about you and I grab a drink sometime?"

"While I'm flattered by the offer, I'll have to politely decline drinks, Mr. Hughes," she responded with a quirk of her lips. "Wouldn't want to jeopardize my sterling employee record over a date with a charmer like yourself. Now focus on healing that hard head of yours."

"Will do, gorgeous," Jack replied, "But when I get discharged from this joint, drinks are still on me if you change your mind."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hughes," Y/N said with an exaggerated eye roll, unable to keep a smile from her face as she exited. That man's persistence was almost enough to make her regret having to let him down.

Almost. With a last fond head shake at his antics, she headed to finish her charts, the image of his grinning face lingering in her mind.

…

Y/n headed home from the hospital. Jersey roads were packed to the brim but finally she made it home. The smell of caramel and pumpkins filled her nose as she kicked off her shoes by the front door before turning on the lights.

Light meows flowed through the hallways bringing a bug smile to her face. The brown tabby cat padded up to the entrance purring and rubbing against y/n’s legs.

After her long shift, y/n was relieved to finally pull into the driveway of her home. The narrow Jersey streets had been jammed as usual for this time of evening, but she didn't mind too much.

The sight of her house with its cheerful fall decorations by the front steps was welcome after a day on her feet at the hospital.

Pushing open the door, y/n breathed deep, enjoying the warm blend of caramel and pumpkin. The aroma made her smile. Fall was her favorite time of year.

Y/n kicked off her shoes, meows filled the hallway as her brown tabby cat came padding over to wind figure eights around her ankles. "Hey sweet boy," y/n murmured, reaching down to scritch under his chin. Hugo rumbled happily, nudging his head against her hand.

After providing Hugo with a fresh scoop of food, y/n poured herself a mug of hot chocolate and sank onto the living room sofa with a content sigh. The house was quiet except for the cat crunching his kibble and the occasional passing car outside.

Y/n was halfway through an episode of Game of Thrones when her phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text. Then another. And another. With a soft groan, she grabbed the phone to check the influx of messages.

As expected, it was the group chat with her girlfriends blowing up. They always got extra excited leading up to one of their girls night.

"Just booked our table, bitches!" Angie had texted. "Meet at my place no later than 10:30, and yes y/n I mean you" Heather added. Lexi followed up insistently, "y/n don't forget the black top I wanted to borrow!" She quickly typed out a reassurance she hadn't forgotten about tonight or the black top she knew she wasn’t getting back.

…

As Y/N and her friends approached the club, the frigid air gnawed at their exposed skin, sending shivers down their spines. The lines outside stretched around the building, a testament to the club's popularity on a chilly night like this.

With each step, Y/N felt the chill seeping into her bones, the biting wind tugging at her clothing as they navigated the crowded streets.

"Come on, guys, just a little farther," Ang called out, her voice buoyant despite the cold as she navigated through the throng of people with ease. "We're almost there!"

Finally reaching the promoter line, Y/N watched as Ang worked her magic, effortlessly securing their entry into the club. As the bouncer scanned their IDs, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins, the cold all but forgotten.

They were ushered in one by one, the bouncer's practiced eye scanning each of them before granting entry.

Y/N hurried inside, grateful to escape the biting cold that nipped at her legs, her breath forming puffs of vapor in the chilly air. As she stepped into the warmth of the club, the pulsating beat of the music washed over her, drowning out the winter chill and setting the stage for a night of excitement and adventure.

She made a beeline for the bar while her friends headed to the table, eager to start the night off with a buzz. A group of guys already occupied the bar, their boisterous laughter filling the air as they bantered back and forth.

Squeezing in next to them, Y/N caught the bartender's attention and ordered a lemon drop martini, her go-to choice for starting the night off right. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside her.

The guys were deep in discussion about hockey, Y/N watched with interest as the bartender expertly prepared her drink, her eyes flicking between the group and the skilled mixologist behind the bar. Y/N raised her glass in a silent toast to the night ahead.

With a satisfied smile, she took a sip, letting the sweet tang of the cocktail wash over her palate as she settled in to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the club.

"So, you like hockey?” The guy at the bar turned towards Y/N with a wide grin. She was caught off guard by his sudden question. "Oh, uh, well, I don't really have a favorite team," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "I mean, I enjoy watching games sometimes, but I'm not really die-hard about it."

The guy nodded, his smile widening. "That's cool, that's cool," he said, leaning casually against the bar. "I'm a player. I play in Canada, but my friends are on the Jersey devils."

Just then, Lexi bounded up beside Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she twirled her hair flirtatiously. "Hey there," she said, flashing the guy a dazzling smile. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about hockey. I'm Lexi, by the way."

The guy's eyes lit up as he turned his attention to Lexi, his grin widening. "Hey, Lexi," he replied, extending his hand. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you." They exchanged pleasantries, Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Lexi's boldness, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

Lexi's sudden interjection caught Y/N off guard, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at her friend's audacity. "Um, yeah, we have a table," she added, her tone a bit too eager as she subtly placed her hand on the guy's bicep.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lexi's not-so-subtle attempt at flirting. It was classic Lexi, always boy-crazy and never one to shy away from making her intentions known.

The guy, Quinn, seemed taken aback by Lexi's forwardness but recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face. "That sounds great," he replied, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Lexi. "We'd love to join you."

Y/N sighed inwardly, resigned to the fact that her night was about to get a lot more interesting with Lexi's antics in full swing. As they made their way back to the table, she couldn't help but shake her head at her friend's boldness.

…

The night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Y/N felt the effects of the alcohol hit her harder than she expected. With the group of boys that had joined them, drinks were poured endlessly, laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.

Quinn suggested that they all come to a Devils game next week while he was in Jersey. The other boys nodded in agreement, meanwhile, the girls exchanged knowing giggles.

When the venue lights eventually flickered on to signal the end of the evening, Quinn turned to Lexi "Hey, we should exchange numbers, for the game and all.” He asked a bit shyly, Lexi grinned before nodding eagerly as she fished her phone out of her purse, exchanging numbers with Quinn

Quinn and the guys said their farewells to Y/N and her friends. Amid plenty of smiles all around, plans were set for the upcoming hockey game. The girls excitedly piled into their Uber, eager chat filling the car. "Oh my gosh, Quinn was so cute!" Lexi gushed. "Right?" the others chorused, laughter and smiles all around.

"That Jesper was a total sweetheart.," Ang added. Y/N grinned, shaking her head affectionately at her lovestruck friends. Their lively banter continued as they reminisced over the fun night.

Y/N certainly enjoyed meeting Quinn's upbeat group, but her thoughts did stray for a moment to Jack from the hospital. Sprinkled with cheerful squeals whenever their favorite hockey team's recent match came up, the girls' bubbly conversation flowed freely the whole ride back.

…

Send ya girl some feedback. I feel like this part was so bad, hopefully you like it tho 😃

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 2 (FINISHED SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 4,625 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

        (Y/N) adjusted the name tag on her shirt as she walked to the hospital's entrance, her other hand holding some books and a DS. 

        Rachael's appointment should be starting soon. I need to hurry so I don't be late. She thought as she sped up.

        A security guard was outside guarding the hospital doors but once noticing (Y/N), he stopped her.

        "You need to go to the psychiatric branch immediately." They spoke.

        "...Huh?" She muttered audibly. "Oh... No, sir. I work in the pediatric branch with Doctor Ryan, he's my superior. You're mistaking me for someone else."

        "No, miss. Andrew Graves from room 402 wants to see you now." The security guard reaffirmed. 

        "...H-he does? That's just... great!" she smiled nervously, a terrified expression on her face.

        HE KNOWS I KNOW ABOUT HIM! She screamed in her head.

        "Get going before he breaks any more staff equipment." The security guard pressed on.

        "Okay, okay!" (Y/N) sighed, rushing into the hospital and to the elevators.

        She pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come down, walking into it and pressing the fourth floor button. She waited impatiently for the doors to open and rushed out when they finally did, heading towards the staff room. She unlocked the staff door and filled her bag with medical supplies: a mediscope, a stethoscope, a bottle of water and a bag of pretzels.

        She clocked in and sped-walked to Andrew's door, room 402, and hesitated before knocking on the door.

        "Go away!" Andrew shouted.

        "Hey there! It's me! (Y/N)? From last night?" she called out, her nervousness evident in her voice.

        "You can come in." Andrew spoke almost too quickly.

        Damn it... She thought to herself, before taking a deep breath and entering the room.

        He never corrected me last night when I gave him pet names, so they worked with calming him down. She noted.

        "Hi, star! I heard you've been causing some trouble." (Y/N) smiled, her smile twitching slightly, her voiced sounding a little muffled to him.

        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but then paused. Why did he need to see her so badly? 

        "M... My head." He muttered. "It hurts. I need you to look at it." 

        (Y/N) couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her throat as she walked over to him. Her nerves were still on fire, but not as much as they were earlier seeing how quiet and flustered he'd gotten.

        "Did you do anything strenuous?" she questioned.

        "Ashley and I started arguing, then she grabbed my hair and shook my head back and forth." Andrew explained.

        (Y/N) wanted so badly to coddle him. To hold him in her arms and dote over him. It’s a bad habit she really needs to break, but the weird part is that she only acted towards that to people she really really liked—romantically. Anyone else she’d feel extremely annoyed and angry (unless it was children, they’re her soft spot). 

        She wants to have him laying on her body with his head in her chest as she petted his hair, cooing soft sweet reassurances into his ears so that he’d feel better.

        What the hell is wrong with me?! she thought, her face and body heating up, a bright red forming.

        I’m only thinking this because he’s obviously being treated like shit by his sister. Poor Andrew can’t even stand up for himself against her (literally). She thought.

        “Oh, Andrew. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why anybody would do that to you.” She pouted, her body acting on its own as her hands went up and gently grabbing his face, caressing the sides delicately as she looked into his eyes.

        His eyes were wide and green, laced with surprise as his face was red, looking as if he was a Christmas decoration with the bright festive colors.

        “W-what are you doing?!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arms and pulling away from her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

        “Oh! I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” she questioned worriedly.

        “N-no! You… you were really close..” Andrew claimed, covering his face with his hands.

        Aw! He’s so cute when he’s flustered! (Y/N) thought to herself, a smile breaking out onto her face.

        WHAT AM I THINKING? HE’S A WANTED MAN (by the cops and me, it seems)! HE’S MY PATIENT TOO! I SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS WITH HIM! she screeched in here head.

        “I’m sorry! I got too carried away…” She chuckled nervously, her nails digging into her palms as punishment. "I usually work with children as you know, and they appreciate the action. I acted on impulse.

        “W-whatever…” Andrew muttered, his face still not completely cooled off.

        “Let’s try this again.” She smiled awkwardly.

        She tilted Andrews’s chin up (causing wave of red to hit his face just before the other one subsided) and reached into her medical bag, pulling out her mediscope.

        “Keep your eyes open.” She instructed, following the same procedures as she did yesterday. “Now open wide.” She directed, pointing the light into his mouth. “Stay still.” She spoke as she looked into his ears.

        She noticed blood in them and sighed.

        “Either your sister ruptured your eardrums with all her yelling, or she caused the internal bleeding in your head to get worse. You’re going to need surgery for that.” She explained. 

        “Aw… damn it…” Andrew muttered.

        No wonder his hearing was a little muffled.

        “I mean, it was about time for the surgeons to get your legs done! They only got your ankles bandaged up, but they haven’t had surgery on your legs yet.” (Y/N) explained. 

        “I really can’t afford it...” Andrew muttered softly to himself, but (Y/N) heard it.

        He can’t afford it? Makes sense since he said he doesn’t have anywhere to go, so I doubt he has a home. She thought to herself before a stupid idea flashed in her mind. What if I… have him stay with me after he’s well enough to leave? she quickly shook the idea out of her head. 

        No way! He’s a wanted man! But… I haven’t called the cops on him yet, so I’m already committing a crime. Who cares if I get more years to my sentence for housing this man under my roof, feeding, sheltering, and spending time (loving) with him? she thought. 

        “Don’t worry about it, I feel we’ll find a way!” (Y/N) beamed. “Now, here’s the deal. I’m going to get the doctors to get surgery done on you, then when your head is all better and dandy, I’ll show you the collection of books and video games I specifically picked out for you~” she spoke, dragging her tone out to make the deal appeal more tempting.

        Specially picked out? Andrew thought.

        His interest was piqued instantly.

        “Yeah, whatever…” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms and adverting his head to the side.

        “Great! You’ll behave and listen to what they say, right?” She questioned a little sternly, her hands on her hips.

        “…Yes…” Andrew hissed through his teeth reluctantly.

        “Alright. I’ll be right back.” She smiled, walking out of the room.

        A few minutes later she came in rolling a wheelchair and a security guard. 

        “Careful with him now.” She instructed to the guard. 

        The guard picked up Andrew and placed him on the wheelchair, dropping him a little carelessly and causing him to wince.

        “Oi! I said careful!” (Y/N) snapped, resisting the urge to hit the guard in the back of the head.

        “Sorry, ma’am…” the guard muttered. 

        The guard rolled Andrew out of the room and followed as (Y/N) walked around the hospital aimlessly, forgetting where the neurologic branch was.

        “Ma’am… are you lost?” the guard asked.

        “No!” she quickly declared before looking around. “I’m testing you to know if you’re paying attention.”

        “I’ve been here for five years.” He deadpanned.

        “…I have to keep your mind sharp.” She claimed weakly. “But lead the way please, since you’re so confident.” 

        She followed the guard and Andrew as they headed to the correct branch. She knocked on the staff’s door then unlocked it with her key.

        “Hello!” she smiled.

        “It’s lunch break for us. What?” one of the surgeons questioned rudely.

        “Be nice! There’s a patient.” A younger surgeon spoke, peeking from over the surgeon's shoulder. “How can we help?”

        “Andrew here has internal bleeding in his brain and we need surgery done pronto.” She ordered.

        “Lunch break~” the older surgeon sang, taking a bite out of his food.

        “Pink slip~” she sung back. “I’ll get you fired for rejecting care to a patient in need. He’s your top priority right now, so get him on that operating table.” She ordered. "Please."

        What’s with all the nurses and doctors here? Andrew thought to himself, not exactly believing the healthcare here is the safest.

        Well, that should be expected considering his old town's doctors had ads recommending euthanasia for suicidal people.

        “Fine.” They sighed.

        “I’ll be back in three hours okay? By then your surgery should be done. You listen to their instructions, okay?” she spoke, patting Andrew on the shoulder before leaving.

        I’m left with these guys? Andrew thought, watching (Y/N) leave him alone.

        While Andrew got prepped for his surgery, (Y/N) had other matters to attend to. She checked her watch.

        Rachael’s appointment is just about done and Joseph’s will be on in ten minutes. I can make it in time for Joesph. She thought, racing to the elevator and hopping in.

        She hit the second button and watched as the doors closed, waiting impatiently for them to open up. She ran out and to Doctor Ryan’s office, room 213. 

        She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds for the affirmative. 

        “Come in.” Doctor Ryan called out.

        (Y/N) opened the door and saw it was only Doctor Ryan.

        So I missed the lesson… she thought, letting out a groan.

        “I’m sorry, sir. I had to attend to patient 402.” She sighed.

        “I heard about it. Seems like you got a secret admirer.” Doctor Ryan teased as he cleaned the seats in the room with a Clorox wipe. 

        “Har har har…” She laughed sarcastically. “But I do apologize about it. I wasn’t expecting to go to him until after my shift.”

        “Yeah, I heard he has quite a temper with anyone but you.” Doctor smiled.

        “Don’t start it.” I sighed, ignoring the sudden increase of my heartbeat. “Anything planned for Joseph? Or is it a typical check-up?” 

        “After his check-up you’re going to give him a flu shot.” Doctor explained.

        “Oh… no thanks…” She smiled nervously. “I don’t do good with needles.”

        I almost puked when I had to give a shot to a test dummy back in my college test room… She thought, the memory making her queasy already.

        “You’ll do fine. Now go get him.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        (Y/N) sighed and grabbed a clipboard and pen Doctor Ryan readied for her and walked out of the room, making her way to the waiting room. She opened the door and cleared her throat.

        “Joseph Stall?” she called out.

        A set of adults and their son stood up, walking towards her and into the hallway.

        “Hey there! Turn right and go to the scale.” She smiled politely as she closed the door being him.

        She followed them to the scale and readied her clipboard.

        “Alright, take off your shoes and step on the scale, please.” (Y/N) requested.

        Joesph complied and took off his blue crocs, standing on the scale. She wrote down his weight.

        52 pounds, in the average zone. 

        “Now step off the scale and stand up straight.” She instructed.

        Joesph fixed his posture and stood up straight in front of the wall’s ruler.

        3’9” feet, also average height for his age. She noted, writing it down. 

        “Alright. Let’s go to our room. Follow me, please.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She guided them to Doctor Ryan’s room, 214, and opened the door.

        “Hey! Come take a seat.” Doctor Ryan beamed.

        Joesph used a step stool to get up on the terribly cushioned bed and waited for the doctors instructions.

        “(Y/N), do your thing.” Doctor Ryan nodded.

        “Alrighty. Let’s start by checking your eyes.” She smiled, pulling out her mediscope.

        She got close and looked at his eyes, seeing no trouble whatsoever.

        “And your mouth. Say ‘aaaah’” She spoke, giving an example.

        “Aaaah.” Joesph voiced. 

        “And your ears.” She spoke, getting to his side and looking into them.

        Nothing. All dandy.

        “Looks good.” She smiled, putting her mediscope back into her bag.

        She grabbed a reflex hammer from Doctor Ryan’s hand and moved to Joesph’s side so she wasn’t in front of him. She gave him a gentle tap on his knee, causing his knee to kick slightly.

        “Good. Now your heart.” She gave the hammer back to the doctor and grabbed her stethoscope, bringing it to Joesph’s chest and listening to his heart.

        She stared at the clock as she waited 15 seconds and counted the beats, multiplying it by four.

        96 beats per minute. That’s in the normal range. 

        “Alright, now take a big deep breath in.” She instructed, bringing her stethoscope to his lung.

        She listened to the his inhaling and his lungs.

        “Now exhale.” She instructed, listening. “Inhale again… now exhale.” She spoke. “Alright. You’re perfectly fine. Is there any health concerns you’re worrying about?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at his parents.

        “Nope.” His mother spoke. 

        “And all we’re doing is the flu shot, correct?” she questioned.

        “Yep.” His mother agreed.

        “Great.” She smiled, resisting the urge to frown. 

        I hate hurting kids like this. She thought.

        She walked to the tray Doctor Ryan prepared for her, taking a small package and ripping out the alcohol wipe. 

        “Left or right arm?” she questioned.

        “Left.” Joesph spoke.

        “Okay…” She muttered, mentally preparing herself for the kid’s tears.

        She wiped his shoulder with the alcohol wipe and grabbed the needle, removing the safety cap and checking for any air bubbles.

        “Ready?” she questioned.

        “Yep.” The kid replied, looking at the needle.

        She stuck the needle into his shoulder and injected the vaccine by pressing down the thumb press, then pulled away. 

        “All done!” she beamed with a smile, exaggerating her voice to let the kid know he was okay.

        The kid stared blankly before nodding.

        Wow, kid took it better than I do. What a champ… She thought to herself. 

        “Spiderman or my little pony?” She questioned, grabbing a box of bandages.

        “My little pony.” The kid responded.

        “Great choice. One of my favorites.” (Y/N) smiled, opening the band-aid and lined the cotton with his small wound, gently pressing it down. “And here’s a sticker for being my star patient today!” she smiled, reaching into her bag and pulling out a pink star sticker.

        “Thank you.” The kid smiled, taking the sticker.

        “You’re free to go. Reception is on the left, they'll schedule your next appointment for you.” She directed. 

        The family walked out and (Y/N) sighed, taking the needle and reattaching the cap, placing it into the sharp objects box. 

        “See? Wasn’t so bad.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “I hate needles…” She sighed. 

        “Hey, do you call all your patients that? Star patient?” Doctor Ryan questioned.

        “Yeah? It makes them feel special and happy. It releases a rewarding stimulant into their brains, the pain killer.” She explained.

        “I bet patient 402 sure liked that…” Doctor Ryan snickered. 

        “Oh, we’re still on this topic, huh?” (Y/N) smiled, placing her hands on her hips.

        “I mean, you’re not changing the subject so…” Doctor Ryan laughed as she shook her head.

        “Any other patients you squeezed into today’s schedule? Or just walk-ins from a here?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Free to do anything until we get alerted.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Ah, great.” She nodded, looking down at her watch.

        It’s only been thirty minutes since I last saw Andrew. And I really hate waiting around and doing nothing, I’ll go visit Hailey. She thought to herself.

        She walked out of the room and out of the walk-in clinic, heading to the room admissions. She made it to room 433 and gently knocked on the door.

        “Come in.” A weak voice exclaimed.

        “Hey there, hails! How are you?” (Y/N) questioned, opening the door and closing it behind them for privacy.

        “Hi, Ms. (Y/N).” Hailey smiled.

        Hailey was a small girl diagnosed with leukemia at seven. It’s been three years now since diagnosed and at the moment she’s in stage 3. (Y/N) finds it heartbreaking to watch the blonde girl’s appearance diminishing; her eyes sinking in, her hair growing wire-like and withered, her skin and cheekbones pale and sullen, and her arms and legs losing fat. Her appearance isn’t the only thing fading away, but her hope of surviving it too.

        “Would you like some water? It’s still cold.” She offered, already reaching into her bag.

        “Yes, please. I’m quite thirsty.” She smiled weakly.

        (Y/N) nodded and twisted open the bottle’s cap, bringing the drink to the girls lips. Hailey took small sips before raising her arm slightly, signaling no more. (Y/N) moved the bottle, twisting the cap back on weakly so Hailey could open it later.

        “Are you hungry too?” she questioned.

        “Not at the moment.” Hailey answered.

        “I’ll leave these here for later.” (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bag and placing down a bag of pretzels on Hailey’s nightstand.

        “How do you feel?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Right now it wasn’t a normal survey (interrogation) she would give other patients, it was two friends catching up.

        “Better than I can be.” Hailey smiled.

        Even though Hailey was ten, she knew very well she was dying. It didn’t scare her as much as she thought it would. Her parents slowly stopped visiting less and less, too brokenhearted at their daughter’s rapid-approaching fate. The only visitors she got now was from her check-up nurses and (Y/N). 

        “Hey, I got you some new books. You liked that last one, yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, pulling out a book from her bag.

        “I enjoyed the ending. I liked Charlie’s bravery and courage.” Hailey commented.

        “I figured you would. She reminds me of you. Resilient and strong.” (Y/N) smiled, handing her a new book.

        “Aw… thanks.” Hailey blushed, the red in her face from the compliment looked as if it could be her normal skin tone, accepting the new book.

        “This book is about a library where all the different possibilities in your life that you could’ve had by making a choice, gets played out for you. I figured you’d like it since it’s fantasy.” She smiled.

        “Thank you.” Hailey smiled, looking fondly at the cover.

        “I’ll leave you to read the first few chapters. Want a sticker before I leave?” she questioned, already knowing the answer.

        “Yes, please.” Hailey nodded.

        (Y/N) reached into her bag and looked for a green star, finding one and handing it to Hailey to add to her growing collection that laid on her nightstand. 

        “Make sure to ring the button if you need anything. I’ll see you later, hails.” (Y/N) beamed, walking away from her.

        She opened Hailey’s door and walked out, closing it behind her. She looked at her watch, seeing it’s been an hour since she left Andrew.

        Two more. She thought to herself. Man, time seems slow today…

        (Y/N) sighed and stood there for a second, deciding what to do.

        I’ll go back to the walk-in clinic. She decided.

        She turned and walked away from Hailey’s room, she’ll return in a few hours to see how Hailey likes the book. She opened the two doors leading to the clinic, making her way to the back rooms and finding Doctor Ryan.

        “Oh, just when I was about to call you.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Is there a problem?” she questioned.

        “You remember how to stitch, right?” he smiled.

        “Stitch wounds… yes…” She sighed, sucking in a breath to put her happy face on.

        “Come on, let’s get this done.” Doctor smiled, leading her to his office.

        (Y/N) walked in and took note of the situation, seeing a distressed boy a bloodied towel that was applying pressure to his forearm.

        “Hey, bud. I’m (Y/N). What’s your name?” she questioned, keeping the kid company as Doctor Ryan prepared a tray of tools for (Y/N) that she needed.

        “Cody.” The little blond boy rasped out, small tears in his eyes.

        “What happened to you?” she spoke calmly so the kid can copy her tone.

        “He had a fishin' accident with me. Got the hook hooked into ‘is skin and he ripped it out while preppin' for tomorrow.” The father sighed with his accent, covering his eyes with his cowboy hat to hide his shame.

        “No worries, accidents happen.” She smiled.

        “I really should’ve been watchin’ though.” The cowboy huffed.

        “C’mere dad, you can hold his hand.” (Y/N) encouraged.

        The cowboy sighed and stood up from his seat, walking over and holding his son’s left hand, his uninjured one.

        “Are you left-handed or right-handed?” she questioned, accepting the tray of supplies and placing it next to Cody.

        “Right.” The kid spoke.

        “Well, you might have to learn how to write with your left hand after this. But that’s okay, all the kids in school will think you’re so cool, along with the scar you’ll get too if you get one.” She smiled, gently removing the towel and placing it to the side.

        The kid has a nasty chunk of flesh ripped out of him from the hook. Either the dad or Cody panicked and ripped the hook out. Well, it's sure leave a scar.

        She looked at Cody’s elbow and felt for a vein. She found one and held her thumb on it, grabbing a syringe of lidocaine from the tray and popping the cap, checking for any air bubbles.

        “Look at dad.” (Y/N) instructed. 

        Once Cody looked away, (Y/N) removed her thumb from the vein and replaced it with the syringe’s needle instead, injecting the pain killer.

        Now we have to wait a few minutes, she thought.

        “Do you play any sports?” (Y/N) questioned, grabbing alcohol wipes to remove the bacteria from the fishing hook’s nasty ends.

        “I play football with my brothers.” Cody explained.

        “This’ll hurt real quick.” She warned. “And how many brothers do you have?” she questioned, wiping off the excess blood and grime, resisting the urge to cringe as Cody hissed and held tightly onto his father’s hand.

        “Three.” Cody answered.

        “Are you the oldest, youngest, or middle?” she questioned, wiping inside the wound a little to be extra certain it wouldn’t get infected.

        “Youngest.” Cody answered.

        “Do you go to school or are you home-schooled?” she questioned, grabbing her medical needle and thread and tying the thread inside of the needle’s hole.

        “I go to public school.” Cody responded.

        “Feel any pain in your arm? Or has it gone down?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at Cody’s face.

        “Gone down.” Cody answered.

        “Good. I’m going to start sewing up your wound, I want you to talk to me or your dad while doing it.” She explained. “You ready?”

        “Yeah.” Cody sighed.

        “Do you get good grades?” (Y/N) questioned, pinching the skin together and sewing up the skin and fat, deciding to go for buried sutures to get the job done.

        “Yeah.” Cody nodded.

        “Do you like school?” she questioned.

        “It’s okay.” Cody spoke, shrugging his head to the left since he couldn’t with his arms.

        “I didn’t like school much either.” (Y/N) admitted. “I didn’t like waking up early. I’m glad I work at night now.” 

        The cowboy redirected his attention from Cody and looked down at her and smiled.

        “Where I grew up, we had a farm and got up at 4 o’ clock to work on it. I was homeschooled in the south.” He explained.

        “You have more strength than me, getting up so early.” (Y/N) joked. “You too, Cody. I dislike needles. Whenever I have to get a shot, I cry like a baby.” 

        “Trust me, she does. I gave her one for her practice.” Doctor Ryan teased.

        “You’re in school?” the cowboy questioned.

        “Yup. That man is my superior teaching me the ropes.” (Y/N) explained, referring to Doctor Ryan who sat back and watched the procedure carefully to make sure she was doing it right.

        “I wanted to go to college but my family couldn’t afford it. Hopefully it’s a different story for Cody.” The cowboy smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. 

        “Especially with all the programs now for the youth, gives the younger generation a better chance for college.” (Y/N) pointed out. “Is there anything you want to be when you grow up? Like a professional football player or a doctor?” she questioned, shifting her tone so Cody knew she was talking to him since she couldn’t look away from her stitching work.

        “Construction worker!” Cody declared.

        “Ooo, are you going to build tall buildings?” (Y/N) questioned, entertaining the boy and keeping him busy. 

        “Yeah.” Cody replied.

        He didn’t seem like crying anymore, the painkillers help shoo off the pain, for now at least. She thought.

        "And... ta dah! You're all done, Cody!" (Y/N) beamed. 

        "Woah! It looks so cool!" Cody smiled.

        "Let's get some bandages on that, so it doesn't get infected. In two or three days, you can take the bandages off. In ten days, come back here and we'll check and see if the stitches can be removed.” (Y/N) explained. “Does that sound good?” she questioned, redirecting her attention to her superior.

        “Perfect, perfect! As per usual!” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Thanks!” (Y/N) smiled, flattered at the praise. “Now, what color star would you like?” 

        “Blue.” Cody smiled.

        “Here ya go!” she hummed, grabbing the stickers from her bag and pulling out a blue star, handing it to Cody.

        “See ya in ten days, lil lady.” The cowboy smiled, titling his hat before holding his son’s hand.

        “See ya! Reception is on the left. Make sure to be careful!” (Y/N) waved.

        “Ahem!” Doctor Ryan coughed into his hand over-exaggeratedly. 

        “Yes?” (Y/N) questioned, confused on if she did something wrong,

        “I don’t think patient 402 would be happy with all that flirting going on.” The doctor teased playfully. "You were awfully talkative with the dad."

        “Woah now. He has kids and is like 30, I’m too young to settle down like that. There was no flirting, only polite talk.” She explained.

        "Sure thing, lil lady." Doctor Ryan chuckled, earning an unamused glare.

        She ignored him, checking her watch, catching his attention.

        “Oh, your shift isn’t near over.” The doctor laughed.        

        “No, I wanted to see how long until I had to go see Andrew.” (Y/N) explained, waiting for Doctor Ryan’s teasing remarks.

        “I see. How scandalous.” He chuckled.

        “Hardy har har har.” (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. “I have an hour and thirty minutes left. But everything feels like it’s taking so long.” She sighed.

        “Here, why don’t you do a run around the hospital? It’s lunch time. You can bring the lunch trays to all the patients!” Doctor Ryan suggested.

        “That’s a good idea. Have someone radio in and call off all the lunch ladies to serve lunch, I’ll do it all myself.” She nodded, smiling.

        “I meant this branch. The whole hospital is a little excessive.” Doctor Ryan deadpanned.

        “No, no. I got this. Besides, I need my steps in.” She spoke. “See ya later!” she waved, taking off.

The second chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPENfor questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[loganwritesprobably]

Cash or Date?

Notes/Warnings: Benn/GN!Reader, Modern AU, philanthropist!Benn, nurse!reader, Benn says tip your nurses, fluff

"Are you sure?" Benn Beckman, local philanthropist, stood in front of you with the grin you'd come to associate him with plastered on his face.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He confirmed with a soft laugh, closing your hand around the wad of cash he'd given you.

Benn was visiting because he'd recently made a.. frankly massive donation to the hospital. He'd split the donation between several departments, but the largest chunk of the money was going to your department - pediatrics. He'd spoken to you and a group of other staff on the ward about how much he hated to think about and see sick kids. He thought they should be running around and making a mess, not be cooped up in bed. You found yourself agreeing with him quite adamantly.

He'd made a visit to the city hospital to see the various departments he'd donated to and find out how exactly the finance department had chosen to invest his money, and the impact it would have on patients. You'd been the one to help him understand the machinery and equipment the pediatrics ward would be getting, and the impact it would have on the children. You'd also introduced him to one such patient, who was excited about the chance to be able to play football again. He'd given these kids hope.

Now he was giving you money.

"I get a wage you know." You sassed with a sigh and a raised brow, reopening your hand to get a vague estimate of just how much money he'd handed you - your current estimate being 'a lot'.

"I know," he said with a warm laugh that made you smile along with him, "but tipping is important." Now that made you laugh. What a world it would be if people tipped medical staff like waitresses. What a vastly different life you'd lead.

"This is a lot of money you could give to a more worthy cause." You said, frowning at the notes in your hand even if you wanted to be able to see the numbers in your account flick as the amount increased.

"Then how about a date instead?"

Tag List: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

If you'd like to tip me, Kofi

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

feel complicated abt parents blogger of disabled children

on one hand great that raise awareness abt what like raise disabled / often very disabled child, n educate about their disability

about visible differences disorder may cause, visible disability, all kind pediatric adaptive equipment you rarely see (many adaptive equipment learned from these blogs), rare disorders, realities of have disabled child be family bc when your disability extensive & affect so much & need extra help, do impact everyone around you in all kind of ways (& not just negative), how society treat them, & educate online in hope make outside world better place for child & current n future children like their child

many times these disabled children don’t have way communicate or interact with world in way that allow them be on social media, even with help, right now or ever, so they cannot self advocate in way most people online can understand (many of them DO communicate DO self advocate, through their own way whether words speech AAC gesture facial expression movement noises body language). so you rarely hear their perspective in disability community but they marginalized in way that, their voices need be heard their existence need be understood & accepted & acknowledged. n even, many people in disabled community deny their existence, punch down ableism, try separate self from them, so education incredibly important.

but also. is exactly the problem isn’t it? how many of them may not able understand what it mean be on social media be put on social media to fully make informed consent, because of disability. or communicate whether they want or do not want be on social media. or who know if them communicate not wanting be on here be respected? but even disability aside, even non disabled peers same age do not / often cannot not cannot make informed decision about this. can’t just say “[mommy (but all genders)] blogging bad except when it about disabled children”

disabled children also deserve privacy also deserve autonomy have them respected be protected same way nondisabled children protected not be exploited. all of these cant shouldn’t n mustn’t be sacrificed in name of advocacy.

but how

idk

[girlactionfigure]

Simone Segouin, mostly known by her codename, Nicole Minet, was only 18-years-old when the Germans invaded. Her first act of rebellion was to steal a bicycle from a German military administration, and to slice the tires of all of the other bikes and motorcycles so they couldn't pursue her. She found a pocket of the Resistance and joined the fight, using the stolen bike to deliver messages between Resistance groups.

She was an extremely fast learner and quickly became an expert at tactics and explosives. She led teams of Resistance fighters to capture German troops, set traps, and sabotage German equipment. As the war dragged on, her deeds escalated to derailing German trains, blocking roads, blowing up bridges and helping to create a German-free path to help the Allied forces retake France from the inside. She was never caught.

Segouin was present at the liberation of Chartres on August 23, 1944, and then the liberation of Paris two days later. She was promoted to lieutenant and awarded several medals, including the Croix de Guerre. After the war, she studied medicine and became a pediatric nurse. She passed away a few months ago at the age of 98. May her memory be for a blessing.

Rabbi Yisroel Bernath 

[justagalwhowrites]

au Joel eating Doc out as she vents about her day at the hospital watching her slowly forget about it

👁️🫦👁️

OMG Hi Bestie!

This ask was DELICIOUS OMFG and soooo Joel coded. Just so so so so so Lavender AU!Joel coded. I love him so much and I just know he's done exactly this for Doc so many times over the years. Girl works a stressful job, she needs some release, after all.

Anyway, I hope this fits what you're looking for! Thank you so much for reading and for asking for this! Love you!!

Long Day

Joel takes care of you after a hard day at the hospital. A one shot set in the universe of the Lavender No-Outbreak AU.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Lavender AU Female Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Oral sex (F receiving), unprotected P in V sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.9k

Remind me again why I wanted to be chief of pediatric surgery?

Joel wasn’t surprised to get your text when he took a minute to check his phone while on a job site. You’d been up late the night before, preparing for a presentation to the hospital board to get more funding for your department. Some kind of new equipment that you desperately wanted and gushed about at every opportunity that Joel could not understand at fuck all. The curse of falling for a woman so much smarter than him, he supposed. 

Because you’re nothing if not a high achiever, he texted back. What’s going on, Baby?

I hate the bureaucracy of this, you replied. One of my favorite kids came in today, her mom is beside herself, and am I with them? No, I’m walking some asshole through the surgical wing of the peds floor.

“Hey Miller!” One of the site managers called to him. “Got a question for you!” 

“One sec!” Joel yelled back before he texted you back again. 

Think you can make it home at a reasonable time or are they going to chain you to the desk?

Only thing that would keep me here is the inside of an OR, you wrote back. They’d better deal. 

Joel smiled a little at that. Back in your residency years, he’d have resigned himself to not seeing you on days like today. He’d take care of Evie and worry that you weren’t eating enough or pushing yourself too hard or crying in the car from stress before coming inside so you didn’t freak out him or your daughter. 

He’d caught you doing that once, the car parked on the street as he walked back from loaning a tool to a neighbor down the road. He was so excited to see you that it took him a moment to realize you were crying, your forehead against the steering wheel, your whole body shaking with it. 

He opened the door, making you jump and start trying to dry your your eyes before he could notice. 

“Hey now,” he said gently, leaning into the car with his arm propped over the door. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?” 

“Nothing,” you sniffed. “Just a really really awful day, I’ll be fine, it’s fine, I’m just not used to it yet…” 

Joel frowned. 

“Used to what?” 

“All of it,” your voice was shaky. “Just all the stress and the exhaustion and I keep getting more attached to patients than I should. I had a kid today who was in a car accident and he looked fine so I was joking with him when doing the initial exam trying to keep him calm and the next thing I know he’s crashing and we couldn’t get him back and it just really fucking sucks sometimes, Joel. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this…” 

“Hey,” he gently reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. I’m sure of it, never been more sure of anything in my life. Except maybe loving you but that’s an extremely high bar.” 

You laughed a wet little laugh and sighed. 

“Do you still want to do this?” He asked, frowning slightly. “Because you don’t have to, Baby. Don’t care that you went to med school, you don’t have to be a doctor if it doesn’t make you happy.” 

“No, I want it,” you nodded once, more to yourself than anything else. “If I’m strong enough, I want it.” 

He took you inside and sent you to go shower, picking up your scrubs off the bathroom floor and putting them in the washer. He set out your favorite swimsuit and made you a frozen margarita before moving the boom box to by the pool and putting on your favorite Beatles album. He grabbed the book from your bedside table and set it next to the margarita just as you came outside, already looking more like yourself. 

“Oh Babe, you didn’t have to do all this,” your hand went to your heart and, for a second, Joel was afraid you’d start crying again. 

“I know,” he said. “But I wanna take care of my girl. Feeling anything for dinner? I can order Chinese or pizza or make you something?” 

“Can I get Mongolian Beef?” You asked, taking a sip of the margarita. “With an obscene amount of egg rolls?”

Joel smiled a little. 

“Of course Baby,” he said. 

Joel took care of Evie so you had space to relax but you pulled her onto your lap and held her close while you ate, your nose buried in her hair while she told you everything about her day. 

When he took you to bed, he had every intention of keeping his hands to himself. But you had a different idea. You kissed his shoulder, his neck, over his jaw. 

“Baby,” he groaned. “Don’t push yourself…” 

“I’m not,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “Want you, want to feel you…” 

He kissed you, gently at first, but your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling his mouth tightly to your own. Your hips ground against his, your breasts flush against his chest. He clutched onto you and moaned into your lips. 

“Make me forget it all,” you said softly. “Please, Joel. Just for a bit.” 

He moved you below him and took you slowly but firmly, like he was fucking every ounce of love he had for you, for the family you’d made together, into you until that was all that was left. There were no insane hours, no one you couldn’t save, no life or death stress. There was just you and him and how much he loved you. 

The next day, he called in sick and kept Evie home from school. The three of you snuggled in bed until you needed to go to the hospital that evening. 

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him next to your car, the same place he’d found you crying the day before. “I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“I’m so proud of you Baby,” he held your face in his hands. “My girl the doctor.” 

After that, Joel always knew exactly what you needed after a rough day at the hospital. 

He texted Ellie to see if she could go to a friend’s place for a while after school - something she was thrilled about - and he stopped by your favorite BBQ place on the way home to pick up all your usuals. He opened a bottle of your favorite French wine and had a plate ready and waiting for you when you walked in the door. 

“Joel,” you smiled, coming over and dropping your forehead to his chest. He smiled a little and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” 

“Yes,” he said. He felt you laugh against him. “But don’t mind hearin’ it again.” 

You vented a little over dinner and the two of you polished off one bottle of wine before you moved to the living room. Joel opened a second and put on your favorite movie and held you on the couch, his hand tracing the contours of your body as he held you close. 

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Ellie said when you didn’t bother to separate from him at all when she came in the front door. 

“Love you too, Gremlin!” You called after her as she went to her room. Joel laughed. 

“Why do we keep endin’ up with teenaged girls?” He asked. “That’s the hardest age but I swear we’ve had a teenaged girl in this house for 20 fuckin’ years.” 

“Gluttons for punishment,” you said, a smile on your voice. 

“Doin’ any better?” He asked, fingers trailing through your hair against your scalp. 

You sighed. 

“A bit but…” your voice trailed off. “I’m so sick of this part of my damn job. There’s only so much board member ass I can kiss before I want to throw up. I got into this to take care of kids not deal with bureaucrats, you know?” 

“You are helping kids by dealing with the bureaucrats,” Joel kissed your temple and gave you a squeeze as the credits to the movie ended. “C’mon baby, let me take you to bed.” 

He got up and, before you had a chance to follow, he scooped you up off the couch. You let out a little shriek, your arms flinging around his neck and he laughed a little as he carried you to bed. 

“Isn’t your back getting too old for that?” You teased as he set you gently on the bed. 

“More worried about my knees,” he smiled a little. “Good thing I’m married to a doctor. Damn good one at that.” 

“Not so sure about that last part these days,” you sighed and he leaned over and kissed you, gently, your face delicately in his large hand. His fingers tangled in your hair and he lay you back in the middle of the bed until you were stretched out below him. He pulled his mouth ever so slightly from yours, making you whimper. 

“What were you sayin’ Baby?” He asked, his nose brushing your own. 

“Uh,” you closed your eyes for a second. “I… I’m not sure…” 

He kissed you softly for a moment before pulling away again. 

“Good.” 

He kissed down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went, until he got to your pants. He recognized them, you called them your ass kicking pants. You wore them when you wanted the extra confidence, wanted to feel like you could take control of anything. Joel just loved the way they made your ass and thighs look. He took a moment to appreciate the view, pressing a kiss just above the waist of your pants, his eyes running up your body until they met yours. 

“Tell me everything botherin’ that pretty head of yours,” he said before kissing your stomach again. Your fingers twisted in the duvet. “C’mon baby. I want to hear you.” 

“I had to show around Anders, that one board member who really sucks,” you said, voice a little breathy. Joel opened your pants and hooked his fingers around the waistband of them and your panties. You whimpered. 

“Why’s he suck again?” Joel asked, sitting up enough to start pulling your pants down. You raised your hips off the bed to help and he pulled the clothes over your hips. 

“You know why,” you were fully panting now. 

Joel did know why. That wasn’t the point. 

“Remind me.” 

He pulled your pants off completely and climbed between your legs, settling between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your mound and you moaned at his touch. 

“He’s all about profit,” you said, voice tense and needy. “He loves plastics because it’s a money driver, always wants them to get the newest technology, everyone else always gets the…” 

You cut off with a quiet gasp as Joel pressed his tongue to your clit, licking the sensitive nub firmly. He smiled a little and kissed you there, sucking you into his mouth for a moment before licking up your seam back to your clit. 

“Fuck, Joel…” you were panting below him now. His hands went to your thighs, holding them to his head. 

“What else, Baby?” He asked, kissing your clit again. “Tell me every little thing making that beautiful brain of yours work overtime.” 

“There’s… Um…” your head dropped back onto the bed. “There’s that clinical trial that’s starting in a few weeks…” 

He slipped his tongue between your folds, the tip of him slipping into your tight hole, making you moan and your back start to arch. He pressed deeper. 

“I lost… I lost a day of work on it today and…” 

His nose brushed your clit and you turned your head to bury your mouth in the mattress as you fought to not cry out in pleasure. His tongue opened your tight little hole for him, stretching and reaching deep, parting your walls. You panted and your channel coated Joel’s tongue in more slick, the flavor of your passion smooth and musky and slightly sweet. You rocked your hips against him and he smiled against your mound, his tongue stretched so the tip of it brushed the soft place inside of you that he loved. 

“Keep goin’, Baby,” he said, pulling his mouth from you when you’d been speechless a little too long. “Tell me all of it.”

You took a moment, gasping and panting for breath. 

“I didn’t get to spend time with Kaylee and her mom, Cara, today,” you managed. “Cara gets worried and I know she trusts me…” 

Your voice broke as Joel thrust his tongue and a finger inside your tight hole, pressing deep into you and finding the places that he knew made you fall apart below him. He ate at you, his nose buried in your seam, brushing up against your swollen clit, tongue working you, finger stretching you. You let out a strangled little cry as your channel grew tight around him and he moaned against your pussy, starting to rut his hips down against the mattress. But he didn’t want to distract you, this was about you forgetting, not about him. You ground your hips against his face, unable to stop yourself anymore. 

He licked into you, nose working your clit, finger hooking into your inner wall until you came over him, Joel lapping up your wetness as it spilled onto his tongue and his lips. 

“Joel!” You gasped, your whole body arched for a moment as you throbbed around him and then collapsed back onto the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing against his tongue. 

He waited until your body was loose on the bed before he pulled his tongue and finger from you. He wiped his mouth on his arm and crawled up your body to where you lay, panting and pliant below him. 

“What else is botherin’ my girl? He asked softly, his fingers in your hair. 

“I… um…” you were breathless. “I don’t remember.” 

“Good,” he said softly, leaning in slowly to kiss you gently. 

He stripped off his clothes and put one of his hands against your pussy, tracing your dripping seam, while he worked his cock for a moment. He kissed you, took your hand and lined his thick cock up with your entrance and pressed into you slowly, until he was deep inside you. 

“Joel,” you breathed, your eyes searching his. 

“Baby,” he nuzzled your cheek, savoring the feeling of you below him and around him, how tight you were, how warm, how soft. “What do you need?” 

“Just you,” you said softly. 

He kissed you again and started to move inside you, slow but firm. He thrust deep inside you until the tip of him was pressing against the place inside you that made you start to tighten around him before pulling back slowly. His head caught on every ridge of muscle inside you and he savored that feeling, this part of you that felt like it belonged to him. When just his head was left in your tight, grasping sex, he thrust back in you hard, hard enough to force the air from your lungs. 

“Fuck, Joel,” your hips pressed up into him as you started to tighten around him. “Joel, please…”

“Anything else on your mind, Baby?” He panted. You whimpered and shook your head quickly. “I want to be the only thing in this pretty head, want to be the only thing inside of any part of you.” 

You arched into him, your fingers digging into the flesh of his back as your pussy got even tighter around him. 

“That’s it Baby,” he managed, his own orgasm getting closer. “C’mon, come all over me. Come all over this cock, I’m so close Baby, want you to milk me dry, c’mon Baby…” 

You buried your face in his shoulder and thrust your hips up against his as you came around him, your channel throbbing fiercely over him. He only lasted two more thrusts before he pressed himself deep and came in you, filling you with rope after rope of his spend. 

Your orgasm outlasted his own, your body pulling every last drop of come from his own and he collapsed as you went limp below him. Joel rolled onto his back and pulled you with him, so you were loosely draped over his body, his cock still deep inside you. He ran his hands slowly over your back as the two of you came down from your shared high. After a moment, you pressed a kiss to his chest and he felt you smile against his skin. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Definitely doing better now,” you said, teasing a little. He smiled. 

“Good,” he kissed the top of your head. “Gotta do whatever I can to take care of my girl the doctor.” 

You laughed a little. 

“You take such good care of me,” your fingers traced little paths over his chest. “Think I can do anything as long as I’ve got you, Joel.” 

He smiled and rested a hand on the small of your back. 

“I think so, too.” 

[curekahealthcarestore]

Flamingo Classic Powered Wheelchair Basic Universal OC2281 

Flamingo electrical wheelchairs with multiple features are safe and comfortable for elders and patients. It is easy to operate with a joystick indoors and outdoors. That is made of light-weight aluminum materials, so it can be maneuvered easily.

https://www.cureka.com/shop/healthcare-devices/mobility-aids/wheel-chair/flamingo-classic-powered-wheelchair-basic/

[soon-palestine]

This morning, a pediatric patient presented to our hospital in a state of diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA)—a life-threatening metabolic derangement resulting from severe insulin deficiency, characterized by profound hyperglycemia, metabolic acidosis, and critical electrolyte disturbances, most notably hypokalemia. Standard international guidelines mandate the immediate assessment of arterial blood gases (ABG) and serum electrolytes to accurately evaluate the severity of acidosis and guide appropriate fluid and insulin therapy.

Upon requesting an ABG analysis, we were informed by the hospital laboratory that the test was unavailable due to a depletion of essential reagents and supplies. This is the only remaining pediatric hospital in Gaza, following the destruction of Kamal Adwan Hospital, yet it is critically under-resourced and lacks even the most fundamental diagnostic capabilities.

In the absence of laboratory confirmation, we were forced to manage the patient empirically, relying solely on clinical assessment—an approach reminiscent of pre-modern medicine, where life-saving interventions were administered in the absence of objective biochemical data. This significantly increases the risk of mismanagement, particularly in a condition where rapid titration of fluid resuscitation, insulin therapy, and potassium replacement is imperative to prevent cerebral edema, cardiac arrhythmias, and hemodynamic collapse.

To date, essential medical supplies remain systematically obstructed from entering Gaza—a direct violation of international humanitarian law and the Fourth Geneva Convention, which explicitly prohibits the restriction of medical aid to civilian populations under siege. The consequences of this blockade are not abstract; they manifest in preventable pediatric mortality—children suffering, deteriorating, and dying due to conditions that, in any adequately equipped medical facility, would be entirely treatable.

What possible security risk do diagnostic reagents and life-saving medications pose? How can such deprivation be justified under any ethical, legal, or medical framework?

As a medical professional, I am overcome with frustration and despair at witnessing preventable suffering on a daily basis. In a world where medical advancements allow for unprecedented precision in patient care, we are being forced to practice medicine in the dark. And the ones who suffer most are the most innocent—children.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Lollipops

Timari January Day 1: Lollipop

By @maribat-calendar-events

Listen, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng opened up a clinic, she had been expecting a lot of things.

Children, since she was officially in pediatric care. You know, the branch devoted to treating children.

Eventually, she expanded to consider her patients might include henchmen, as well. And she had been mentally prepared, perhaps, to possibly meet their bosses, if they wanted to thank her for their services in person, though she had doubted this.

She had not, however, been expecting to look a vigilante dead in the eyes (domino mask, it didn’t matter)... or, at least, not like this. She had been expecting to get approximately one glimpse of their usual suits and then have a fist obscure most of her vision. Not to see him hunched over in one of her chairs, hugging the knife buried in his side.

“... hi,” she said, glancing behind herself at the Scarecrow goon she had been about to lead out the door. “I can get to you in a minute.”

The vigilante didn’t say ‘okay’, but he didn’t say ‘no’, either. From what she had been told, this wasn’t uncommon. Introverts, the lot of them.

She quietly closed the door and pointed the goon towards the exit, and waited a few minutes with her ear against the door to make sure he hadn’t gotten immediately jumped by a second, secret vigilante. Once she was reasonably sure that the henchman had gotten away to safety, she went back to the vigilante who was, apparently, in her care.

He was… still in that chair. Stab wounds will do that to you, she supposed.

She hesitated as she eyed him up and down.

This was Red Robin, she was pretty sure, though he could have been Robin or Red Hood or really just any other male vigilante in Gotham… they all looked the same. She wasn’t going to say it aloud, though, she didn’t want to risk being wrong. Embarrassing.

Also, she was pretty sure she was on thin ice right now. Getting his name wrong might just screw her over.

Thankfully, he was aware of her presence immediately, and she didn’t have to call his name to get his attention.

She sent him a slightly nervous smile. “You do know this is pediatric care, don’t you? I was trained to treat children.”

“The guy before me wasn’t a child.”

“He has a kid,” she said. Technically, this was true.

“Was the kid here?”

“I plead the fifth. And the fourth. And any other applicable laws that might help me right now.”

He snorted. “I’m not a cop.”

“You still get people arrested, I’m not going to risk it.”

He lifted his hands in a kind of ‘I surrender’ gesture, only to wince. He quickly went back to applying pressure to his wound, which was probably for the best.

Marinette shook her head to herself, sighing. “I’ll bring my equipment over here. I’d rather not have to carry you.”

“I can still walk,” he said.

He moved as if to stand. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back down, giving him a cold look.

“Don’t do that. Christ.”

He groaned and slumped back in his chair, pouting like the child that she was supposed to actually be getting. How had her life come to this?

You say ‘ohmygod why are you bleeding on my doorstep oh my FUCKING GET INSIDE’ to a henchman one time and suddenly it just becomes your thing.

She sighed internally as she went about collecting her things and then sighed externally when her eyes flicked to the security footage. She had put a camera next to the door a while back, when she had first started taking henchmen. She didn’t use it often, she really just had it to make people at least hesitate before trying to steal things.

Anyways, the point is, Red Robin was not in the chair she had left him in.

She made sure her next footstep was audible, before feigning a pause to make sure she had everything she needed.

By the time she stepped out, he was back in his chair, looking for all the world as if he had never left.

Marinette hated life.

She was quick in stitching him up. Perhaps quicker than was strictly medically advisable, but whatever. This wasn’t meant to be permanent or anything, this was just to last him until Batman could, like, magically fix it. Or whatever that cryptid of a man did. Marinette, frankly, preferred not knowing.

She pulled back, wiping bloody hands on the towel around her neck.

“Normally, I’d say to take things easy for the next few weeks, minimum, but considering…” she shrugged. “I dunno. Just try not to pop those.”

He tilted his head to the side consideringly for just a moment.

And then he laughed. “No promises.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He jumped to his feet, and she cringed just slightly. But it wasn’t like she could stop him if that was what he wanted to do. She could only mumble a few curses under her breath and move to leave so she could close up shop.

Red Robin lingered for just a few seconds longer than she expected him to.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him briefly. She figured it was probably best to just ask him outright whether or not he needed to go through some files. He was going to do it regardless of her wishes, and she liked pretending to have free will.

“So, is my clinic up to par with your standards?”

Red Robin didn’t bother denying that he had had ulterior motives for visiting.

Instead, he held up a candy he had grabbed from the jar on her desk.

“For sure. You guys have lollipops.”

[sarahowritesostucky]

Art in banner is by @hopelessartgeek, who makes a ton of amazing Stucky art!

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 1

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas are intersex (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

1. Jori

Steve meets Bucky under less than ideal circumstances.

T.W. This fic contains occasional mentions of Steve's patients, who deal with issues of csa, sa, abortion, ptsd, and other traumas. Bucky is in the immediate aftermath of a rape at the story's start.

Steve hates sedating patients for procedures, but unfortunately in his line of work it’s often necessary. The only thing worse than when he has to sedate patients, is when he wishes he could sedate a patient, but for some medical reason he can’t. Like now.

“Shhh,” he soothes, petting over his patient’s leg when he feels her starting to tremble again. She’s laying back on the table, legs spread under the privacy blanket he’s given her. Steve settles his gloved hand in the crease where her thigh meets her hip, digs his thumb purposefully into the flesh of her lower belly from over the fabric of her pink hospital gown. There’s a tertiary gland in the low belly/upper mons that is the first of the omega sex glands to develop. And when stimulated properly, it can help to calm them down.

Unfortunately for Steve’s patient, hers won’t be fully developed for a few more years yet. He tries to get at it with his thumb anyway, hoping that if he can just graze it, it might help keep the girl calm until the procedure they’re doing is finished. He’s got her on the highest dosage of lorazepam allowed for a patient her age, but she’s still conscious and there’s nothing he can do for that other than comfort her verbally, using his alpha Voice that, in any other context, would be utterly inappropriate. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers.

Jori blinks her sleepy eyes up at him, another sluggish tear falling down her face. “Is it almost over, Mr. Steve?”

Steve takes a quick look at the machine’s readings, then forces a pained smile for her. “Yeah, Honey. Only a few minutes left. I’m so proud of you, you know that? You’re my best patient ever. Being so brave. Just a little longer here and then we’ll be finished."

They’re in the pediatric exam room, where the walls are painted in cheerful colors and the gynecological equipment is disguised to try and make it less intimidating. Steve likes his job as an omega sexual and reproductive healthcare practitioner, but there are some cases, and some elements, that he really, really wishes didn’t exist. Marjorie Goldberg and this exam room are two of them.

Seeding machines should not come with pediatric-sized attachments.

“Is she okay?” Mrs. Goldberg asks urgently, shooting up from her seat as soon as Steve steps out into the waiting area. Clint is sitting next to her, his OmCare badge clipped onto his jacket, and he stands when she does. Steve takes a deep breath and walks over.

“Marjorie is okay,” he tells her. “She shouldn’t need any more treatments after this one. She’ll need to be on medication for the foreseeable future, though. She needs to get into an intensive therapy program as soon as possible. We’re sending that information to her DCFS caseworker. I’m also recommending monthly checkups back here or at a licensed clinic for at least the next six months.”

“For more of this?!” Mrs. Goldberg takes an angry step forward.

“No. Just to check her levels and monitor her progress,” Steve says, tone clipped. “Nothing invasive, just blood tests and external ultrasounds to make sure everything’s okay.” His eyes flick to Clint, who is watching the woman like a hawk.

Clint is one of the OmegaCare social workers employed by the hospital. He’s there because the Goldbergs don’t currently have custody of their daughter, and it’s been a very … testy situation, with all parties involved.

Mrs. Goldberg is insisting on being as present as she’s legally allowed to be, not missing any appointments, lingering in the waiting room each time poor little Jori has to endure a treatment. She’s not allowed to see Marjory without supervision, and she isn't currently the one in charge of her daughter's medical care, but she's asserted her right to stay informed about it all, and since Steve is temporarily the senior N.P. on the pediatric omega GYN ward, that means it's his side she's a thorn in.

Mr. Goldberg is the reason the treatments have been necessary. He’s in prison now.

“You couldn’t even let me in there to hold her hand!” Mrs. Goldberg is saying, voice raised in anger.

Steve looks her dead in the face. He’s got little to no sympathy for this woman. “That’s not up to me, Mrs. Goldberg. You know that. DCFS is evaluating the nature of your relationship with your daug—”

“She needs me!” Mrs. Goldberg yells, outraged, though obviously on the verge of tears, too. “I’m her mother, for Christ’s sake!”

“And he was her father,” Steve bursts out, unable to contain himself anymore. “And we all know why I just had to be in there, therapeutically inseminating his seven year old daughter!”

Mrs. Goldberg stands there, red-faced and quietly crying. Steve feels near-instant regret hit him when Clint shoots him a what the fuck, man?! look from over the lady's shoulder. Steve swallows guiltily. That’s the kind of reaction that gets you administrative leave, if the client makes a big enough stink about it. By the sound of her pitiful crying though, Mrs. Goldberg is just feeling guilt and misery, hopefully not thinking about taking action against an NP who has just—very loudly and unprofessionally—yelled at her. Steve is supposed to be able to keep his shit together better than this. But then again, this isn’t really his wheelhouse.

He specializes in trauma cases, but the kids usually fall to his colleague, Dr. Connors. Steve is one of only a few staff who are qualified enough to cover most of Connors’ caseload while the man is out on maternity leave. Steve’s happy for the guy, sure—he’s just given birth to two healthy pups after a difficult pregnancy. But Steve’s starting to lose sleep (what little he gets to begin with, these days) to the nature of the work. He’s not cut out for the kids.

He clears his throat and mutters an apology to Mrs. Goldberg, looking at his clipboard rather than her wet face. “Marjorie’s still recovering from the sedation we gave her.” They’d tried for stronger drugs at first, aiming for full or at least twilight sedation, but the little girl had had such violent seizures that it was rendered impossible. “It’ll be another half hour or so until she’s ready to go back to her foster home.”

Mrs. Goldberg sniffles. “She’s alone now?”

“She’s with a nurse,” Steve says. He looks at Clint, nods, then turns to get away from the situation.

“Doctor Rogers!” the woman calls out, her voice all water-logged and choked.

Steve stops walking with a sigh. He doesn’t much bother with correcting people on the 'Doctor' thing anymore, finding it to be a waste of breath. “What?” he says curtly, not turning back around to face her.

“I didn’t know.” Her voice is pleading, tearful and urgent. Maybe she wants him to believe her or feel sorry for her or something. Maybe she just needs somebody to tell her that it’s not her fault. “I swear I never knew what he was doing to her. Not for sure. I swear.”

Steve’s hands tighten on his clipboard so hard that he feels it creak. “Right,” he grits out, forcing himself to continue walking away. “‘Not for sure’.”

Steve leans over the countertop of the nurse’s station and hands Sam a stack of charts. “Four and seven discharged. Five and six were admitted. Still waiting on the attending for eight.”

Sam nods, more bug-eyed than usual. He’s on his fifth coffee now. He takes the charts and starts putting them away. “Kay kay kay.”

“No more coffee,” Steve warns him, and Sam scowls.

“I’m fine.”

“Mmhm.” This is the tail end of the second shift for both of them. Sam’s a nurse on the om-psych ward, and given that Steve handles almost exclusively trauma cases for om-obgyn, he and Sam’s cases tend to intersect a lot. They both also draw the ire of their department managers pretty frequently, so they’re often sentenced to either clinic duty or shifts in the ER together. That’s how they became such good friends, and it’s where they are now.

“How was the shift on pediatrics?” Sam asks, though he sounds like he can already guess the answer. Steve’s been in a foul mood ever since he switched to his ER scrubs and clocked in.

“Awful,” he grunts. “I can’t keep doing the kids. It’s killing my soul. I’m going to my unit head tomorrow and telling her,” he decides. “She can’t force me to do it. I’ll tell HR it’s a mental health issue.”

Sam laughs. “Then they’ll send you my way. I’ll recommend shock therapy.”

“I’d take it over what I had to deal with today.” Steve gives him a brief recap of the Goldberg situation, and Sam loses all his humor.

“Shit, man.”

“Yeah.” Steve can’t say he isn’t really, really grateful to be alpha sometimes. Or at least grateful that he’s not omega. If anybody drew the short straw in life, it certainly seemed to be them. The fact that a grown man could rape his own daughter was bad enough, but then add to that the fact that because the girl was omega and her father alpha, she’d been forced into pre-pubertal heat too, her little body confused and trying to do what it thought it was supposed to do—to the detriment of her health in every way possible.

Steve sighs as he thinks about the abortion he’d had to perform on her. That kid was going to be on meds and in treatment centers for months, maybe years. Probably in therapy for the rest of her goddamn life. “I told them I’d be happy to testify at the guy’s trial,” he tells Sam. “In a medical capacity, if they needed it.”

Sam scoffs. “You are well spoken.”

“Very fucking eloquent.” Steve knows he needs to stop talking about this. It’s keeping him in a foul mood. He runs his hands through his hair. “Ugh, Sam. Distract me. Give me something to do.”

“Like what? Oh, hang on.” He leans over to the computer, clicking the mouse a few times as he navigates the screen. “Dispatch called in a code blue. Adolescent male, nonresponsive. They were doing chest compressions when the call came in.”

“When?”

“About ten minutes ago. So they should be here soon.”

Just as he says it, the doors to the ambulance bay bust open and several paramedics come wheeling in a gurney. Steve goes over to assess. The lead paramedic begins rattling off info to Steve as they move the gurney over to a bed: Adolescent male omega, presented with fever and respiratory distress. Pulse is thready, BP eighty over sixty.

The smell gets Steve right away, and an even stronger waft hits the air when they transfer over to the bed. The omega reeks of heat, but it’s sour and unhealthy smelling—unfulfilled, infected. Besides being inherently unpleasant, Steve’s body is responding to it, his dumb dick perking up like it thinks it can be a hero and help the situation. He tells the nurses to grab him blockers, and the new beta intern gets shoved in the direction of the supply cage.

Steve begins barking out orders. "Okay let’s get a line in him. I want a blood draw, full tox screen. Why isn’t he on oxygen yet? —Paxton! get the fuck off your phone. What the hell, man?”

“Sorry!" the intern says as she returns from her run to the supply cage, wringing her hands and just generally looking terrified of Steve’s ire. “We’re out of dermals.”

Steve ignores her, too busy rattling off IV meds and doses to the nurses. He'll have to wait until he can raid another cage for a transdermal patch to shut his dumb dick it up. He tells the intern to prep the crash cart, just to give her something to do. The boy on the stretcher looks to be in his late teens. He’s wearing jeans and a tee shirt that’s already been cut open. The nurses pull the scraps of it off him while Steve re-checks his vitals. When he shines his penlight in the kid’s eyes, he regains consciousness. He starts to struggle, afraid.

“Hey there,” Steve says, talking in his 'Nothing’s Wrong Here, Folks™️ voice to try and keep the kid from panicking. “I’m Steve, I’m an NP at Mercy General. You’re in the hospital. Can you tell me what you remember?”

“No family came with us,” the medic murmurs in Steve’s other ear. “Call came from a private residence. It was crowded but nobody wanted anything to do with us. They shoved him at us and told us to leave.”

Steve nods. That means it’s likely a drug situation. “What’s your name, Honey?” he asks the kid.

The kid blinks, still confused. “Bucky,” he says, “What happn’d?” He sounds bleary, like he might fade out of consciousness again.

Steve barks at one of the nurses to get him hooked up to the monitoring equipment. “That’s what we’re going to figure out,” he tells the kid kindly. “Bucky, can you remember if you took anything today? Any medicines or other substances?” He watches as the kid’s blown pupils flick around. The scent of frightened omega gets worse and Steve fights not to wrinkle his nose. One of the nurses relays the kid’s high temperature and pulse, his low blood pressure.

Two seconds later, he starts seizing. Steve holds his head steady while one of the nurses shoves a plastic guard between his teeth. They turn him on his side and the smell of urine hits Steve’s nose. As he’s holding the boy still, he puts his face near his neck and gets a better sense of his scent. What he smells makes his own heart rate tick up in alarm. The seizure passes and Steve tells the nurse to cut his remaining clothes off. Bucky’s barely conscious, emitting a low keening sound when Steve looks between his legs. “Fuck,” he curses.

There’s rampant infection, the fact that Steve can tell without even doing an exam is worse than alarming. He tells them to prep heavy duty antibiotics. “I need to do an internal,” he says. With the infection as horrible as it looks, there’s no way he’ll be able to touch the kid while he’s conscious. “Knock him out. And get a rape kit.”

They get him stabilized, on antibiotics and anti-seizure medication. Steve locates a blocker patch in one of the other supply cages to slap on himself before he heads in to do an internal exam on the unconscious omega. He finds impacted slick glands and prostate gland that are so enlarged and inflamed that Steve’s kind of amazed they haven’t ruptured. An ultrasound reveals an illegal IUD. Steve removes it. The boy’s hymen is obviously newly torn, and there are signs of recent tying. He's been raped by at least one alpha—violently, if the bruising is anything to go by. They swab what Steve would bet are foreign fluids from both his stomach and genitals. Steve meets with two cops and a social worker from OmCare, hands the rape kit over and tells them his findings. “Let me know if you contact any family,” he says.

So far, it seems like this boy has no one.

They admit him under “Bucky”, using his designation and admittance number (ꭥ-47202) in lieu of his unknown last name. Since he’s stabilized and since his medical problems seem to mostly be between his legs, he’s moved up to Om-obgyn Inpatient and officially put under Steve’s care. Steve is able to snag his department head and beg her to pull him from all pediatrics cases. She agrees, but makes the call that Bucky should remain on the adult wing. So he’s still Steve’s patient.

In his current state, Steve can’t do anybody much good for much longer. He’s nearing nineteen hours on shift, and even with the aid of several espressos, he doesn’t have much steam left in his body. He knows he could go home, but his next shift is scheduled for eight hours from then, and he really wants to be there when the kid wakes up. So rather than go home, he grabs an empty bed and crashes.

When he wakes, he checks the time on his phone and inhales deeply. At least he got a good six hours. He heads to the nurse’s station and gives the charts for their hall a lookover, then goes to the room where they’ve put the male omega from the night before: Bucky.

His eyes are closed when Steve walks in. Steve tilts his head, taking in the boy's features. He looks better now, more stable, less pale. And he smells better, which gives Steve a hint that the antibiotics are already helping. The notes on Bucky’s chart from the overnight nurse have him nodding in vague approval as he reads. “Okay,” he says quietly to himself. “Good.” Not good good, but much better compared to the state he’d been in last night.

When Steve looks up again, the boy is watching him.

Steve smiles gently. “Hey there. You’re awake.” He walks over to the bedside. The boy struggles to push himself up and Steve halts him, showing him how to instead use the controls on the bed rail to come up to sitting. “Don’t want to overexert yourself,” he says kindly. He pulls up a chair to the bedside and sits on it. “I’m Steve,” he says. He’s long avoided using his last name with patients because they always wind up calling him “Doctor Rogers,” and Steve isn’t an MD and it just gets awkward after awhile. “You’re in the hospital. You were brought into the ER late last night. This is the omega ob-gyn ward you’re in now, and I’m going to be your attending.”

“Attending?” the boy says, voice craggy and dry. He winces and puts a hand to his throat.

“It means I’ll be looking after you,” Steve clarifies. He gets up and goes to fill a cup of water.

“I’m Bucky,” the boy says. “You’re a doctor?”

Steve returns to his bedside and hands the cup over. Bucky takes it. “Small sips,” Steve warns. “I’m a nurse practitioner. In New York we can do just about everything the docs do. But like I said, you can feel free to call me Steve.”

Bucky nods, no affect to him. He seems almost resigned, Steve thinks. He hasn’t asked about any loved ones and Steve hasn’t missed that either. “What happened?” he asks.

“Well I was hoping you could tell me that,” Steve says, purposefully keeping his demeanor non-confrontational. “You’re sick. You have some infections going on. And you were in very bad shape when they brought you into the ER. You had a seizure.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “I did?”

“Mmhm.” Steve leans forward a little and asks, “What do you remember happening yesterday, Bucky?”

This is where the omega goes still and clams up. He refuses to give an account of anything, saying that he has no memory of the previous day. Steve is trained in how to interact with assault and trauma survivors, but he doesn’t make any headway with the boy. Bucky clearly believes that being open and honest with strangers will put either him, someone he loves, or someone with authority over him, in trouble.

Steve backs off, hands him a room service menu so he can order something cool for his throat, then goes to page Sam.

When Sam comes out after spending almost an hour with the kid, Steve straightens up from where he’s been loitering at the nurse’s station. “What’d he say?”

Sam blows air through his lips. “It’s a doozy.” He tips his head down the hallway. “Walk with me. I’ll tell you over my next espresso.”

Turns out, Bucky has been living in an isolated religious sect that doesn’t believe in, among other things, male omegas’ reproductive rights. More precisely, they pretty much just don’t believe that male omegas should exist, think that they’re an ‘abomination unto the Lord’, or something like that. Steve looks up the Wikipedia page on their group, and is neither pleased nor particularly shocked at what he learns.

Short of murder, they espouse beliefs and practices that do everything possible to stop male O's from existing. They try to prevent nature from taking its course on the limited number of male O's born in their group, forcing them to live instead as regular beta males via a combination of drugs, surgeries, and social pressure. They call themselves the Children-of-God’s-Kingdom.

Steve’s heard of them before, but he’s never had anyone like that come through his ward. “Oh man,” he says, when Sam rattles off the things Bucky's told him. “So, a cult. You’re telling me he’s in a cult.”

“He doesn’t even know who his real parents are,” Sam says gravely. “They live communally. All the wacko parents sign custody of their kids over to their grand poobah.”

Steve scowls, feeling outrage for what’s been done to this poor kid in the name of religion. “Well they managed to almost kill him,” he snaps quietly, mindful of where they’re standing. “And it's almost a guarantee that he’s been sexually assaulted. We ran a rape kit last night.”

Sam doesn’t look surprised, just mad and caffeinated. Steve asks him if he got an age out of the boy, and Sam tells him regretfully, “Eighteen.”

“Fuck.” Steve shakes his head. Omegas don't reach their majority until nineteen. “We’ve gotta report it to social services before somebody from the cult shows up trying to claim him. Trust me: one look at his charts and OmCare will take custody.”

Sam nods. “He also said there’s an IUD inside him and hormonal suppressants implanted.”

“Yeah we got the IUD out. I’ll get the implant out today. Which arm?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Steve nods tersely, wondering if the poor kid got to have any say over the things his so called ‘family’ did to his body over the years. Likely not. As a physician who is very well educated on the considerable risks, Steve has always heavily discouraged his omega patients from trying to use drugs and devices to suppress their natural cycles. But, much like many other unhealthy choices, birth control and suppressants aren’t technically illegal for omegas over the age of twenty one.

But Bucky is only eighteen, just now entering the ripest years of an omega’s reproductive life. Steve grits his teeth when he thinks of what further damage might’ve been done to this poor kid, had he remained in that cult for any longer. “I’m gonna go check in with him,” he says, taking a step in the direction of Bucky’s room.

Sam stops him with a touch to his arm to let him know, “He seems honest enough, but he’s anxious not to get anybody from his group in trouble. He wouldn’t name names. And you can bet he’s gonna be all kinds of warped about his designation, being raised like that. Tread carefully.”

Steve nods, angry. No doubt the kid’s been told his whole life how he’s an affront to God, has ‘unholy urges’, or some horrible shit like that. “Guess he’ll be up your way before long, then,” he tells Sam, before walking off.

Steve knocks lightly on the doorjamb to make his presence known. “Hey there.”

“Hi.” The omega is sitting propped up in the bed with an extra blanket and pillow now. He’s got water and a half-finished Italian ice cup on the bedside table. Steve notes the almost completely untouched breakfast platter and nods. Kid must be nauseous. He’s looking sheepishly up at Steve as he approaches. “You sent a shrink in.”

Steve pulls the chair back in to sit close to the bed like he had before. “That’s nurse Wilson,” he says. “And yeah, he came to try and get you to feel safer about talking.” The kid—Bucky—nods while looking down at his lap, and Steve asks, “Did it help?”

Bucky shrugs. “He said I don’t have to talk about anything if I don’t want to.”

Steve’s heart clenches as he remembers the rape kit they’d done on him, the torn hymen and the swollen — “That’s right, Honey,” he says. “You don’t.” He puts his hand on the bed, not touching him, just the thin hospital blanket next to his legs. “But I’m hoping you’ll tell me certain things, so that we can get you healthy again.”

Bucky looks very uncomfortable, but to his credit he seems to push through it. “Look, um, Steve?”

Steve nods.

“I heard the nurses talking. About my family.”

Steve straightens up. “Your family?” He’s hopeful he’ll be able to get information about the kid’s abusers, but Bucky disappoints him by saying,

“The ‘Children’ I mean. They’re my family.” He chews his lip and looks down at his knees. “Look, I know … I know it’s not normal, the way we live. I know other people are different, live differently.” Quietly, almost so quiet that Steve doesn’t hear it, he says, “People in the outside world don’t say bad things about us.”

“Who’s ‘us’?” Steve prods gently.

“Omegas,” Bucky whispers. “Boy omegas, anyway.”

Steve hates to see the self-loathing on the kid’s face, hating himself just for how nature made him. “Bucky,” he says carefully. “I want you to know that most people believe that male omegas are perfectly natural and normal. Both female and male omegas are beautiful and important.”

Bucky’s cheeks darken. He’s clearly uncomfortable talking about it. “I know. I’ve run away a couple times, spent time around … around normal people. I've watched tv shows.”

“That’s good, Honey.”

"Yeah. I —" Abruptly, Bucky’s face pales and his eyes get wide. Steve tenses. Bucky leans over and snatches the breakfast tray off the bedside table and gets it in front of his face just in time to barf all over the room service order of scrambled eggs and toast. Steve winces and gets up to help him. When it seems like he’s done retching, Steve takes care of the mess and returns with a couple of the hospital’s barf bags. “Here. Just in case.”

“Thanks. Ugh.” Bucky grimaces. “God. I feel so awful.”

“I know, Sweetheart.” Steve sits forward in his chair. “That’s because you’re sick. I need to ask you some questions to figure out what we’re gonna do to treat you and get you all better, okay?”

“... Okay.”

He tries to smile encouragingly. “Alright. I know it’s hard to talk about, but it’s important you answer honestly so I can help you, okay?” Again, Bucky nods, and Steve asks, “When did you have your first heat?”

Bucky looks mortified—beyond the usual discomfort of a teenager not wanting to talk about their body, or sex. He’s ashamed of himself, Steve realizes. But he manages to answer with a quiet, “Eleven.”

Male omegas tend to go into heat earlier than their female counterparts, their bodies needing more time in estrus to fully mature. Steve nods encouragingly, trying to show Bucky through his open expression that nothing about this should be shameful. “Okay, and how many heats would you say you’ve been able to cycle through naturally without birth control or suppressants?” Steve does some quick mental math: 7 years x 12 months … That’d be close to 84 heats, assuming he's always been regular with his —

“Oh never! Or, I mean ...” Bucky makes a face and corrects himself. “Not since the first one, anyway.” He looks miserably down at the blanket covering his legs, like he’s remembering something awful. “Just that first time,” he repeats quietly.

It’s a terrible answer, and Steve forces himself not to visibly react. He doesn’t want to scare the kid. He notes the information on the chart. “Okay. I removed your IUD last night. Do you know which arm they put your suppressant implant in?”

Bucky nods, pointing to his left bicep.

“We’re gonna take that out today. I’ll give you a local injection to numb everything. It won’t hurt.”

He nods, looking wary of the prospect. “So then I’ll … I’ll get my heats and stuff?”

Steve hums sympathetically and tries to reassure him. “It’ll be fine. You’ll feel a lot better, I promise.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking resigned and dejected. Steve hates it. He imagines the years the poor kid has spent hearing The Children’s vitriol, hearing despicable horror stories about pathetic, desperate, disgusting male omegas in heat, how it’s something to be avoided at all costs. Steve frowns and moves on to the unpleasant part. “So, one thing we did last night that you probably don’t remember, is we collected swabs of fluids and tissue. For evidence, in case somebody had hurt you.” He waits until he can see that Bucky gets what he’s saying. The poor boy’s eyes widen and his lips part and he gets very tense. Steve reaches out to grasp his hand, then adds, “I think somebody did hurt you, and I’d like it if you could tell me so that I can make them pay for what they did.”

Bucky shakes his head, tears breaking from the corners of his eyes. “No. No, I don't want to talk about this.”

Steve’s heart breaks, but he has to press the issue at least a little bit. “Honey, the thing is, this is important for me to know. Medically, it’s important for me to know, because you know what happens when an omega is suppressed for years and years and years, and then alpha semen gets inside their body?”

Bucky flinches hard at those words, but Steve holds fast. He gives Bucky’s hand a reassuring squeeze, leaning further forward and holding it in both of his large hands, enveloping it. “What happens,” he explains, trying to be gentle in how he says it, “is that it can trigger your body to try really, really hard to go into heat. And when your body can’t do that, that’s when you can start to get into really dangerous complications. Like having seizures and going into shock. Your organs can even start shutting down.” He instantly sees the terror in Bucky’s features and he hates it, wishes so badly that he didn’t have to be so honest with him. But federal legislation requires it. "That's why you had a seizure last night. It's why you're so sick."

Bucky’s lips are parted, not knowing what to say. “But I … I never … I didn’t know that?” He looks scared as his eyes flick around the room, always returning to Steve like a beacon. Vulnerably, he stutters, “Is ... is that happening to me? Organ failure?”

Steve knows he can’t lie to him, so he takes a deep breath and says, “I did conduct an internal exam and an ultrasound on you, when you were sedated last night.” He can see the humiliation in Bucky’s features as he realizes what this means. Steve presses on, “Many of your reproductive organs are inflamed or infected, from trying to make your body do what it’s supposed to do, but can’t.”

“Because of the suppressants,” Bucky murmurs.

“Yeah, Honey. Because of the suppressants.” Steve wishes so badly that he didn’t have to inform him, “There’s ... a chance that you could be unable to have children. In the future.”

The omega keens high in his throat, a noise that he has no control over and which Steve’s nature also has no control over how it instinctively responds to it.

One of Steve’s hands leaves Bucky and flies up to his own neck, where the expired sup patch is still adhesed to his skin. He grits his teeth, thinking that he most definitely needs a new one.

Steve is salaried higher for his usefulness as an alpha on this ward, but then again, he’s not usually dealing with eighteen year old boys who have no clue what independent sexual decision making is. “It’s okay,” he soothes him, voice swooping low and smooth. He starts up a deep, dominant rumble in his chest to help calm the boy. “We don’t know anything for sure yet, okay? You were very swollen when I looked at you. Your body needs a chance to rest and heal before we can know what we’re looking at, long term.” Steve can smell the intense distress of the omega at the possibility of no longer being fertile. Even if it’s something Bucky’s never considered before, it’s the boy’s innate nature to become defensive if such a thing is threatened.

“Is this all because of —” Bucky cuts himself off, clearly struggling. He won’t even meet Steve’s eyes as he forces himself to ask, “Is this happening because I had sex?”

Steve goes very still, his advocate training kicking into gear. “Did you have sex?” he asks gently. "Or did someone hurt you? Because it's not sex if you're not a willing participant. Then it's assault." Given what he knows about the cult Bucky’s been in, he finds it extremely unlikely that the boy would have had willing intercourse with a penetrative partner. Male omegas in that situation would be groomed to believe that that part of themselves was shameful and to be repressed at all costs.

In the bed, Bucky is looking tinier by the second, drawing into himself. He shakes his head frantically. “N-no. No. I said no.”

Steve watches him sadly. “Okay, Honey. Okay. Did somebody force themself on you?” Bucky starts to make that high keening sound again, the sound of an omega in intense distress, and Steve hurriedly adds, “You don’t have to tell me who it was. You don’t, I promise. Okay? But if somebody hurt you, you should blame them, not have to call it sex or feel bad that —”

“Mmn, mmmm mnn.” Bucky is shaking his head fast, face red and pained and looking like he wants to disappear into the cracks of the earth. “No,” he breathes, “Nno. I said no. They did it. The ... those guys. They did it.”

Steve's heart sinks all over again. More than one. He's dealt with cases of gang rape, but never with a patient so young. And never with a virgin. Fuck.

Bucky's scared eyes flick back to Steve’s face. “Oh god. Is that why I’m sick?” He cringes as if it’s the worst, most humiliating thing in the world. “Because they got their … their stuff inside me?”

Steve nods reluctantly, so sorry to have to tell him so. “It’s not your fault, Baby. It’s got nothing to do with you or how you feel about them. It’s just biology. Your body responds to it. It wouldn’t even be that strong normally, but after being suppressed for so many years, it’s almost like an allergic reaction.” Steve winces. “Your body’s overcompensating.” He can see how the poor boy’s about to burst into tears, so he gets up from the chair and sits on the side of the hospital bed, pulling Bucky’s hand and his whole lower arm against himself. His chest is emitting a low grade alpha rumble, but it’s only on the periphery of his notice. “Bucky,” he tells him tenderly, waiting until the boy looks up at him. “Hey, I’m sure there are so many things you’ve not been allowed to know about your body and how it works.” Bucky blushes hard but Steve presses on imploringly, “Most importantly that there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of with your designation. It’s normal, it’s natural, it’s beautiful, and it’s yours.”

Bucky’s eyes spill over with more tears. “I wish I didn’t grow up there,” he whispers, and then he pitches himself forward at Steve’s body, crying, hanging onto the front of him and stuffing his face in his chest, against his lab coat and scrubs. “I hate them!” he gasps, voice choked with sadness. “I h-hate them!”

It takes everything in Steve to not say 'Me too'. Instead he just rubs the omega’s back and lets him cry against his body, telling him that everything is going to be alright now, everything is okay, he’s safe.

Because if Steve knows anything, it’s that he’ll kill to keep this kid away from the people who did this to him.

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