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olivetreehugger · 4 years ago

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SnK Scouts/Veterans as Health Care Workers

Note: features Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin and Hange. A part two to my “SnK Warriors as HCWs” post found here. warning: mentions of blood, trauma, gore (it’s healthcare). Also, I know Hange is nb, I headcanon them as female, so I will be using she/her pronouns.

Eren: this boy is definitely too involved in everything and has too many people depending on him at once to not be a nurse. The kid barely passed the NCLEX but that didn’t stop him from applying to every trauma center within a 25 mile radius of him. He got hired as a night shift trauma ICU nurse and he frequently picks up shifts in the ER. He wears the cheapest scrubs he can find, often stained with ink in the pockets area. He isn’t a shitty nurse per se but there are tasks that still need to be done at the end of his shift and he gives a crappy report that’s missing too many details. Nurses hate picking up his patients, it’s always a mess. His charting is really spotty and he gets called into the manager’s office all the time to fix it.

Still, he tries really hard to improve his time management and skills. He wants to be like his friends Mikasa and Reiner, who are the best nurses he knows. He wants to be involved in the traumatic cases and emergencies because he wants to learn as much as he possibly can. He’s really good at wound care, for some reason (hint hint). He’s kinda cocky sometimes too, which can be troublesome when Dr. Galliard is working. People know to steer clear of those two when they’re both in the ER. Also, Eren always has a black cloud around him; whenever he works it’s gonna be a hella busy day in the hospital. Lots of emergency surgeries, intubations, codes and deaths. He’ll always jump in to help you if your patient is crashing, though, no matter how busy he is.

Mikasa: she’s a prodigy. She was a straight ‘A’ student in nursing school, got a perfect 75 on the NCLEX and was immediately hired to the trauma ICU after doing a short internship there. She worked night shift for a year but her sleep schedule was so so fucked she started having night terrors, so she switched to day shift. Eren still calls her a traitor for it :/. She keeps trying to get him to switch over but he just hisses at her and threatens to chug a case of Monster energy drinks. She hasn’t given upon him yet, though.

This girl’s work ethic is beyond measure. She comes in exactly at 6:30 am, looks up her patients, takes report, gives a great update to the doctors when they round, and provides impeccable care to her patients. She knows exactly which treatments the doctors will order before they even speak. She’s incredible at inserting IVs--everyone in the hospital knows Mikasa Ackerman can put an 18g in a 90 yr old lady’s arm AND get blood return (just trust me, it’s flipping impossible). She has great skill when it comes to emergency situations and is a big believer in team work. If she notices your patient’s crashing and you don’t know what to do, she’ll calmly coach you and save your patient, too. All before lunch time.

It doesn’t take Mikasa long to be promoted to charge nurse. When she’s in charge all the reports, paperwork and audits are completed before shift change. She divides the patient assignments really well and is very fair to the new grads. All around she’s an incredible nurse and leader on her unit, but don’t be fooled. If it’s been a rough day, Mikasa will get in her car and sob so loud her throat goes raw. A lot of people depend on her and working in a trauma ICU is really, really demanding. A lot of patients are demanding, rude and busy. She has a lot of trouble with stress management and is thinking of cutting her hours down so she can catch a break. Someone please hug her <3

Armin: for some reason my brain is just SCREAMING respiratory therapist. Like, I imagine this beautiful blond boy in gray scrubs (the color for RT’s in my hospital) going around helping intubate patients, giving nebulizer treatments and doing blood gases. I can just see him huffing and puffing when the attending doctor is overzealous about weaning vent support. -“Why are we changing the patient to pressure support? do you see how tachypneic he is on volume control?”

-“are you gonna put in the order? if not, your patient’s gonna be on PRVC all day, I’m not changing it without an order”

-“Doc, the patient looks like crap and their blood gas looks like death...oh, you still wanna extubate? ok, well I’m gonna leave the ventilator in here just in case. better yet, let me call a pastor in here, too.”

This kid is sassy af and he knows it. He’s smart af too, knows everything there is to know about the lungs and respiratory care. Knows every ventilator mode better than most doctors. Will certainly tell a resident off for ordering the wrong type of inhaler for a patient. He’s so damn intelligent that he even made the ice queen Annie melt like a popsicle.

He has no chill when it comes to his patients and even less chill (like -4078875874670) when a doctor gets in his way. For this reason, Armin has recently been toying with the idea of going to PA school so he can have a little more autonomy. He works al over the hospital, usually frequenting the trauma, CV, and medical ICU. The nurses there love him.

Jean: Jeannie boy. Baby. Sweetie. He’s also a nurse. He is strictly dayshift and trauma. When he first started, he thought he’d do a year in the ICU and then go to CRNA school. He didn’t want to be around sickly patients with hopes and dreams and fears--it was too icky for him. But, over time, he learned that he LOVED trauma. Jean loves the controlled chaos that comes with the ugly, bloody messes that roll in through the ICU’s doors. He always gears up for trauma season (summer time) by bringing Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for everyone on the unit (day and night shift because he’s a supportive king). He gets really good at dealing with arrogant trauma residents and ortho docs who think they’re hot shit. When Jean sees a resident yelling at a nurse, he jumps in and threatens to have their license revoked. He will dig under their skin and page them incessantly throughout the day, too, just to get back at them. Jean is not a fan of lateral violence in the workplace, no sir.

He always, always makes sure every room is stocked and new bags are hanging for the next shift. He has a thing where if things aren’t properly organized on the unit his brain just spazzes. He’s on the unit council and education committee because he also loves to teach the new grads. He also doubles as charge nurse, when management can’t be there (there can be one or more charge nurses amongst the staff, they usually work different days, though) He and Mikasa work so well together, teaming up to get tasks done, coding patients, running them down to get scanned, etc. People joke they’re the mom and dad of the unit. It makes them both blush <3 (Eren doesn’t like it, lol)

Jean loves to see patients healing from horrendous injuries, he’s constantly cracking jokes with the awake patients to try to make them feel better, and he’s really good at calming anxious family members down. Our boy just makes such good connections with people. He’s the guy you call when your confused patient is one second away from ripping his breathing tube out. He can convince the most restless, agitated patient to chill out. He’s got the voice for it. Also people love his mullet. It looks great.

Connie: I really didn’t know at first but I feel like Connie would make a great physical therapist. He’s got great energy, he’s funny and I could see him dancing to Earth, Wind & Fire in front of his patients to hype them up for therapy. He’d be very sweet with them

Sasha: I’m sick and tired of the food jokes, quite honestly. She’s more than that. In my mind, she’s an occupational therapist, helping disabled patients learn to feed, dress and clean themselves again. She works directly with Connie as they round on all their patients in the hospital, they make a great team! She’s extremely patient and would make a very good nurse, but is unsure of where life is taking her. That is until she meets Niccolo the dietician in the cafeteria, and she falls hard. He encourages her to follow her heart and she does!

Levi: Hm. This one stumped me. Levi is a bit...cold. It’s not like he has incredible social skills. He’s meticulous and focused and kinda mean? He reminds me of an anesthesiologist, tbh. Like he’ll sedate the shit outta you for surgery, makes sure you don’t die on the table, and then drops you off to the unit as fast as he can. He never takes off his mask while in the hospital and he scrubs maybe four times before surgery. He is very good at medication calculations and knows everything about nerve blocks, intubation, pain medication and sedation. He can look at a person and just KNOW what kind of sedative to give and how much. Your blood pressure will never bottom out while he’s there, he’ll warn the surgeon and immediately get that norepinephrine started.

If Zeke is the one operating, Levi is on his ass to finish up the surgery ASAP and to not linger, because Zeke takes his time and ignores the tele monitor alarming in the background. After surgery, this 5′2 demon will scream at the 6′ resident about the importance of blood pressure management and sedation in neurosurgical patients. Levi plays no games and he also just really hates Zeke lol

He seems like a jerk but genuinely cares about getting his peeps through surgery. His favorite surgeon to work with is Hange Zoe, because she’s brilliant and fast, but also cognizant of her patient’s hemodynamics. Levi likes taking trauma cases as long as it’s with her. When he drops a patient off to the trauma ICU or goes there to intubate, he makes sure Jean or Mikasa are there because he knows everything is gonna go smoothly. He trusts them a lot. He likes Armin, too and even let him intubate a few times. On his breaks, he’s drinking tea and reading a Williams & Sonoma catalog or scrolling through cleaning Tik Tok lol.

Erwin: This man. This beautiful and hunky beefcake. Omg. I HC him as someone who went to nursing school, became a charge nurse on the trauma unit back in the early 2000′s and fell in love with it. Erwin would eventually fall in love with leadership and educating, too. He went back to school and earned his Doctorate of Nursing Practice (a practice doctorate). He managed the trauma unit for ten years before his brilliant leadership skills and wicked smart brain got him elected as the Director of Trauma Surgery recently. He is the first person with a nursing degree and DNP to ever accomplish this, so it’s very controversial. A lot of toxic doctors threaten to leave the hospital for this (because they’re assholes), but Erwin threatens to fire them in response and it usually shuts them up.

He often holds lectures in the hospital auditorium. With a mind and voice like his, people are so drawn in by him. He advocates for nursing staff, for reimbursement when continuing their education, better staffing, parking, etc. He makes nice with doctors and gets them to sign petitions for the nurses to get these things. He’s a bit manipulative He’s also a fantastic manager and director, he’s really good at negotiating things. The nurses and residents all love him because he rounds on every ICU frequently, brings food, and asks them how he can help. He can be a bit daunting because of his height and deep voice but once he starts talking to you, you just get sucked in. All around an absolute king.

Hange: This character reminds me of a trauma surgeon and intensivist (ICU doctor) we have, Dr. Omi. A great surgeon, really really smart, but takes absolutely NO bullshit. She will yell at you if you freeze during intubating. She wants you to recite every step before you take it, otherwise she’ll take the tube from you and do it herself. In surgery, she’s the same way. She wants you to learn, but by her standards. If she asks a question, you better know the answer or fess up right away, she doesn’t like the “uhms” of uncertainty as you try to search for a shitty response. Either you know it or you don’t. And if you don’t, she’ll teach you. Yeah she can be rough around the edges, but she’s got a big heart. She loves her trauma team. She buys them breakfast and gives them funny personalized gifts. One time, she bought an apply tree for Mikasa and brought it to her car at the end of a shift. Mikasa forgot to plant it and it died in her backseat. Hange will sometimes ask, “Mikasa, how’s your apple tree growing?” and Mikasa will lie through her teeth. “It’s growing!” Fess up, Mikasa. Those google search apple trees are starting to look familiar.

All around Hange loves to work and teach. She is a wonderful trauma surgeon and has saved tons of lives.

#snk headcanons #attack on titan #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #connie springer #sasha braus #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #lama writes

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nurse-buckley · 4 years ago

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Bad News

Buck and Bobby x Reader

Word Count: 704

I really debated posting this, it poured out last night after receiving a beautiful gift from @firemedicdiaz I wrote this small piece in order to separate my experience finding out my dad was in hospital from my own work to my place of comfort, and to have been surrounded by them. Hopefully it’ll help for when I return but who knows?

You feel your phone vibrate, looking at the caller ID you see it’s your mom and you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. You hadn’t been able to get a hold of your dad before your shift and you had to leave for work before you’d heard anything back. You’d left your family to continue chasing, with the idea arising of possibly even having to call the police for a welfare check since no one had heard from your father for over 24 hours.

You move to a hidden area between the trucks where there is some sense of privacy, away from people and prying eyes. Pressing the answer button, you prepare yourself for the update.

“Mom, hey. Any news?”

“Your uncle just phoned, the police arrived but an ambulance had already been called. He’s been taken to hospital.”

You sigh, having been through this a few times now. “Is he okay?”

There’s a pause from your mom, you hear her take a deep breath before speaking again. “He’s in intensive care...he’s been intubated.”

You feel your world stop, you suck in a deep breath, suddenly overcome with emotion. You feel your knees slightly buckle beneath you as you crouch to the floor, a hushed sob coming out of your mouth, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself.

“I’m coming home.”

Your mom stays on the phone with you, helping you calm down and compose yourself, so you’d be able to explain the situation to the captain. You hang up with your mom, with the promise of being home as soon as you can. You pocket your phone, feeling your hands tremble as you place it in your jacket, trying to keep your emotions in check until you know the full picture.

You run up the stairs to where you see Bobby making himself a cup of coffee, Buck by his side. As you approach, the younger firefighter is the first to notice you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Bobby turns to face you, following Buck’s gaze. You’re pale and shaky, barely holding it together. The older man places his coffee cup on the side, taking a step towards you, reaching out a hand and placing it on your elbow to steady you.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s my dad. My mom just phoned. He’s been taken to hospital, he’s in the ICU. He’s been intubated.” Your voice cracks on the last statement, the resolve you’d built about to crumble. Bobby can see your hands shaking as you explain the situation.

“Take a deep breath.”

You do as he asks, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, before he continues talking.

“Get yourself home, go be with your mom and keep us updated.”

“Thank you Bobby.”

He gives your elbow a gentle squeeze, meeting your gaze. “Are you going to be alright to drive?”

It’s hard to miss the quaking in your voice and the trembling of your body and before Bobby can say another word Buck speaks up.

“I’ll take her.”

The two exchange a look and Bobby nods, moving in to give you a hug. You stay in his arms for a while longer, feeling him squeeze tighter before releasing you.

Buck walks towards the pair of you, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the station, towards his car. The journey is quiet, tense and Buck can feel the nerves coming off you as you cling to your phone, your knee bouncing.

As you arrive, Buck leans over the console, pulling you into his embrace. You stay there for a while, the tears threatening to spill over, but you stay strong. He shifts his body, moving to place a gentle kiss to the top of your head, before releasing you.

“I’ll have my phone on all shift, you need me, just call, okay?”

You nod, getting out of the car and closing the door. He smiles and gives a small wave which you return, before you turn to make your way to your mom’s drive.

Buck waits in the car until you’re safely inside, seeing your mom and giving her a small wave, before making his way back to work.

#9-1-1 #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 reader insert #bobby x reader #buck x reader #evan buckley #buck #robert nash #bobby nash #personal #trigger warning hospital

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ive-had-enoough · 3 years ago

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TW : Suicide attempt

November 4th 2020.

I've been dangerously suicidal for several days at this point. I went to group therapy in the morning as usual and then i went to see my mom so she could give me my winter tires. After she left i went to the drugstore to buy the pills. I then went to my psychologist appointment. At first he told me that he saw that i was not doing well and that i had to change my speech before i left orelse he was going to send me to the E.R. I managed to convince him i was alright to go home and that I was going to be able to keep myself safe until next week. And honestly i was ok before i left. I had to drive about 2h to go back home. After an hour the thoughts were fully back and i was shaking from them as they were so strong. I stopped at a truckstop and called my friend. We talked for 45min. She tried to convince me to go back to the hospital or to go home and not kms but in my head it was either dying or going home and do as if nothing happened. So i told her i was going to go home and we hung up. I messaged my therapist hoping he would see my message and call me but he was already out of the office at the time. So i drove aimlessly for a while, looking for a place to park my car and finally parked in an empty parking lot. I took out all of the pills and all the edibles i had and contemplated what i was about to do. I poured the edibles in my hand and said "fuck it", took them all. Found a water bottle and started to shove handfuls of pills down my throat. I took a lot of one kind and then some of everything else i had just to make sure i would fuck myself up real bad. I then hid the bottles in the trunk of the car so the paramedics wouldnt know what i took and wouldnt know what to treat me for. Then i made myself comfortable in the back of the car, programmed 2 text messages to send 30mins later and after that i dont remember anything.

From what i got told my friend called 911 as soon as she got my text, they got to me and apparently i was still conscious. I woke up 2 days later intubated, with multiple IVs, with a catheter and very disoriented.

I spent a couple days in the ICU, i had hallucinations for 2 days and got sent to the psychward. I didn't have any organ damage but let's say that my heartrate has been all over the place since then.

They kept me for a total of 13 days and not even a month later i had to be hospitalized again to keep me from attempting again.

#nemoishurt #personal #bpd #suicideattempt #suiicide

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 4 years ago

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1/3 of the Reality Stone fragments remained with its host, Ripley Ryan, in the hospital. Determined to finish what they started, the Black Widow and Winter Soldier headed to the Intensive Care Unit along with a team of mutants who were sent by Wanda Maximoff to cast a reality binding spell. Once their goal was achieved, there was nothing standing between them and Zemo at the Town Hall.

These events come AFTER the INN and MUSEUM and before the TOWN HALL.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky pushed through the hospital doors with both hands, metal clinking against the acrylic outer shell and double paned panels. He was hot on Natasha's heels, having made a pitstop for the both of them at the museum before the rest of the crew could cause too much of an issue. When he caught up to her just before she hit the stairwell, he slid her a twin set of guns and then readjusted the strap to his AR. "Sure we can't just shoot first and ask questions later?"

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Although not in her suit, Natasha had clicked on the two Widow’s Bites that Barnes had taken from the Museum. The two guns were a gift from a poor S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was now weaponless, but Natasha accepted them from James all the same. “You want to risk shooting the wrong person?” Checking how much ammo she had, the Widow shook her head. “Personal mission. Maybe bad form, but family first.” Knowing that Taskmaster was in the building - and still sore from their last run in - Natasha quietly pushed the door open and raised her gun while she rounded the corner, coming face to face with a crying girl in scrubs. “Too easy.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky clicked his tongue at that. "Fuck form. I would've taken more, but I know how much Barton is attached to his bow." he was only mildly joking, using it as a way to fill the space so he didn't spiral into his own mind. "Think we should've accepted back up?" And now he really was joking, mirroring Nat with his own weapon. He stopped short when they came around the corner and he instinctively tightened his grip on his gun. "It's never that easy."

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Eyes rolling, Natasha quickly checked over her shoulder. “Easy to say when it fits the situation,” she hummed. “We do have back-up. Bobbi’s here and changing. She’s got the codes. Psylocke is somewhere looking for her friends. Apparently, Wanda is helping the mutants.” Whatever helped them through. Lowering her gun slightly, Natasha glanced from the sniffling young adult to the name tag she wore. “Hey, Astrid. Sad day at the hospital?”

YELENA BELOVA: Caught up in her own moping, ‘Astrid’ started at the sound of the woman’s voice and sat up as she quickly wiped at her eyes. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. No. I mean -- yes. It’s a hospital. But our patients usually are cured. Just bad dating experiences. Dumb, I know.” She nudged her magazine closed. “Are you here to visit someone?”

BUCKY BARNES: "Bad dating experiences?" he couldn't keep the question out of his tone, the laughable disbelief. He cocked the gun single handedly before dropping it back in his grip. "In fact we are. Wanna tell me who it is you're crying over?"

YELENA BELOVA: Although his tone was a little snide, the brunette didn’t notice. It was lonely at the front desk if she wasn’t making rounds and her friends were fine but the recent dumping had taken a toll. “His name is Jim. He’s a nice guy. Was a nice guy. We went on a few dates and he went all two-faced. Completely ghosted me. That was three days ago.”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Natasha wracked her brain. “Helmut,” she swore under her breath. “Astrid, have you talked to ‘Jim’ since?”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky just...blinked at her. Then, all of a sudden he barked a laugh, shaking his head. "How mad would you be if I took out all of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked, voice lower, only for Nat to hear. "Yeah, 'Strid, we just wanna talk to him. He's like family, you get it."

YELENA BELOVA: Finally really taking the guns in consideration, Astrid slowly stood and reached around her scrubs for her buzzer. “I should call Chris. He’s head of Hospital security and he can help you figure out where you’re headed.”

BUCKY BARNES: That wasn’t really part of the plan. “Yel-Astrid, Jim’s a little more important right now.” With a sigh, Bucky aimed the AR, barrel directed at ‘Astrid’. “We don’t need head of security.” A red dot appeared at the center of her scrubs, the buzz of the scope a sound only he could hear. “Just give Jim a call, yeah?”

YELENA BELOVA: “He’s not gonna answer,” she huffed as her eyes welled up again. “I just told you -- he’s not interested in me. I think it’s my thighs. It has to be.” Nearly crosseyed, she stared at the light on her scrubs and the demanding man. Fumbling for her phone, Astrid dialed with shaking fingers. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. “See? Thighs.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky clicked off the scope, the red light disappearing before he lowered his gun. ”I’m just gonna hit her. You good with that?” he asked Natasha.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Watching the entire exchange, Natasha had shouldered past Yelena at one point to rummage through the cabinets behind the desk. They needed as much info about the Database as possible, and there a possibility some of Ripley’s medical records were there. At Bucky’s question, she glanced up. Yelena would be pissed, but the two of them had come for a reason. “Only if you’re done hearing about Jim.”

BUCKY BARNES: “Ha ha.” Bucky came over, keeping Astrid’s eyes on him as he came around the desk. “Hey, ‘Strid-“ he employed the same method he had used on the Wyngarde sister, slamming the side of his gun into her temple just hard enough to shake around some loose change. “You have great thighs.”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: “Oof.” Natasha exhaled as the gun connected with her sisters temple. Deftly moving to catch Yelena and ease her to the ground, the spy crouched down and inspected the welt that was already growing. It still didn’t look like Yelena, but she had stopped crying. “You could have been a little bit more graceful, but I’ll take it. Grab her.” Natasha rose. “We’re not leaving her for Taskmaster to find.” Best to let him think ‘Astrid’ had just abandoned her post or was doing her rounds. The S.H.I.EL.D. pager Bobbi had given her buzzed in her hand and Natasha pocketed it. “We’ve got a room. Intensive care unit, Room 8-1. You know, I always said Clint married up.” Grabbing Astrid’s badge for good measure, Natasha clicked the safety off on her gun. “Let’s go.”

KWANNON: Elsewhere, Psylocke and Laura had waited quietly in the shade of the building. The telepathic signal being emitted led the newly arrived X-Men to the hospital. Raven head tipped to the side, Psylocke held a hand out to gesture that Magik, Synch and Nico should enter the hospital. The door swung closed between them, faces flushing from recycled air. “Intensive Care Unit is the top floor. You know what to do?”

BUCKY BARNES: "Graceful?" it came out more as a scoff and Bucky crouched down, adjusting the AR to lay flat against his back again so he could sling Yelena's fake body over his shoulder. She hung limply, swaying back and forth when he stood. "When have you ever known me to be graceful." he said just as he twisted around, narrowly clipping Yelena's head on the edge of the counter. "ICU? What are the chances he'll be in a coma and I can just smother him."

EVERETT THOMAS: Synch followed Magik and the other witch into the hospital, trying his best not to let himself get too wrapped up in everything around him. This whole thing was pretty messed up of SHIELD, but his main focus was Laura. Even if she didn’t remember any of it, he still felt bonded to her in ways he could barely describe. And making sure she was safe was definitely high on his priorities. “Yeah, we’ve got it.” He responded to Kwannon, making sure to keep on high alert as he scanned their surroundings.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: The sneakers that she had worn as Lulu Gordon were more for show than actual practical use, and the treads were nearly nonexistent. Nat couldn’t actually remember working out in Pleasant Hill, just posing on her yoga mat for selfies instead. It was hard not to slide around with no traction but she pushed open a door to another stairwell and held it open for Bucky, watching to make sure he didn’t smack Yelena’s head into the wall. “You would have failed the Red Room,” she hummed. Presentation begets perfection, after all. Natasha had been the best. Yelena had been better. “Zemo’s at Town Hall. That’s not why we’re here. Ripley’s intubated upstairs. They’re making a play for the Infinity Stone. Did you read your file?” Stopping abruptly, Natasha flattened herself against the wall by the doorway of the next level. She could hear footsteps in the hall, and that felt deliberate in the quiet hospital. Gesturing with her chin towards the door, Nat pushed it open and raised her gun. She moved quickly to turn but still found her face connecting with a fist.

BUCKY BARNES: "I didn't care to read pages and pages of documents beyond who was who and what they were capable of." Which was a delicate way of saying, 'did you really think I would?'. Somewhere along the way of climbing flights, Bucky stashed Yelena's unconscious body in a medical supplies closet, knowing that she wouldn't wake up for a while and that he needed both hands. As soon as they both went into alert, hands moved too fast for Nat to dodge and him to barely skid to a stop and back up, gun immediately raising. He fired off a few rounds, the spray of bullets disoriented in the ambush.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Wiping blood off her nose, Natasha dropped her gun and kicked it to the side. Bullets never tended to work with Taskmaster. She’d keep it for backup. He had his shield and a collapsed bow. Claws in his gloves. Basically, he was as tricked out as ever. “Still sore about last time?” The ( former ) redhead squared her shoulders back. “Zemo can’t be offering you enough for this.” But he was silent, like always, and a moment later the two were locked in hand to hand combat.

ILLYANA RASPUTINA: Sword pulled off of her back, Illyana cast a wary look around the hall. “I hate hospitals,” she muttered. Wanda’s spell was complicated but she had drilled it into the sorceress and witch. “It would be easier if we could teleport out after, but apparently we have to walk. No mutant left behind.” Lorna, Gabby, Rogue.

LAURA KINNEY: As the mutants made their way through the hospital, Laura paused and narrowed her eyes. There were more people in the hospital than their should have been. “Take the back.” She instructed Kwannon. “James Barnes is moving to the southern wing.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky dropped the gun, the strap catching on his shoulder before it banged against his hip. It was only Taskmaster, the asshole with the psuedo copycat style and a piss poor attitude. "Less talking-" he kicked at Taskmaster, just hard enough to diverge his attention and have him focused on both of them. "Glad I dropped our nice office secretary off, huh."

NATASHA ROMANOFF: He had got in three good hits but Natasha was at four. “Nursing student,” she huffed as she dodged a kick. “This is a dead end. He won’t quit. It’s called a distraction.”

EVERETT THOMAS: Everett followed closely behind, trying his best to keep close to Laura without making her feel like he was suffocating her. He didn’t want to make things weird in any way, but God was it hard. “Hey uh, are you okay?”

BUCKY BARNES: "So in all those times you've fought him, you never figured out a way to beat him?" They parried some more, moving this way and that. "I'm not going to leave you here to get your pretty yoga instructor face punched in."

BOBBI MORSE: One of the doctor’s personal offices had always been stocked for agents -- as a safety precaution. It was working well in their favor. Her locker held a spare uniform and set of staves that she gratefully hooked into their holsters before grabbing three disruptors. One went onto her own neck and her body shuddered in relief as her appearance twisted back to its regular self. She broke out in a sprint until she found Barnes and Romanoff, and Bobbi tossed them each a chip before kicking off the wall to strike Taskmaster with a baton. As she should have predicted, his bow separated into staves of his own. “What’re you guys still doing down here?”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: If she hadn’t been focused on not getting slashed in half with a sword, Natasha would have rolled her eyes. “It keeps evolving. More new heroes, more moves. We haven’t killed each other yet.” The elastic she had tied her hair up with was falling out, but then Bobbi was there. Nat caught the small chip and quickly fastened it on the back of her neck. There was a second before her body was her own once more, clothed in the uniform she had entered the town with. Even though she was lacking any of her weapons other than the Widow’s Bite, it felt good to see her own hands again. “How about my normal face getting punched in?”

BUCKY BARNES: "That isn't obvious?" Bucky said, arms coming up to cover his face when Taskmaster slammed a fist down. Jumping back, he caught the chip, using what he knew from the file to revert his appearance back into something a little bulkier, steadier, familiar. "It's not exactly easy to get to the reality stone harboring mad woman when there's 600 tons of body armor in the way."

LAURA KINNEY: Lips twitching, Laura pivoted on one heel. “I look like a cheerleader.” She had gone to pep rallies with pom-poms and enthusiasm. The whole nine yards. The worst part was that she had fun, on some level. That pretty much summed up how she was. “I want them to cast the spell so we can get out of here. No more Vaults, no more Pleasant Hill’s.”

BOBBI MORSE: “I have complete and total faith in this woman.” Bobbi held a hand to her temple to stop her vision from swimming after a hit. “But we need to keep moving. Nat, you said you’re old friends. I don’t want to ruin the reunion.” When the redhead nodded, Bobbi arched a brow at Bucky before running into the nearest stairwell and taking the stairs two at a time.

EVERETT THOMAS: Everett couldn’t help his soft chuckle at the cheerleader comment as he nodded at her. “I mean, it’s not a bad look. Definitely not you, though.” He pointed out, nodding solemnly at her next words. But unfortunately, they were X-Men and this was probably not going to be the last Pleasant Hill. Or Vault. Before he could say much else, a scalpel flew through the air and stuck onto the wall next to them, revealing Bullseye standing down the hall. “Shit..”

VIVIAN VISION: Vivian followed alongside the mutants as they made their way through the hospital, careful to be attentive to their surroundings. As they all rounded the corner, a scalpel was flung through the air, nearly hitting Viv in the face as it struck the wall and they were face to face with Bullseye. “We need to divide. We can’t let him keep us from the stone. Magik, Nico, I can phase us into her room? I think we’re close.”

BUCKY BARNES: "Shitty reunion." he looked over at Nat, only falling back from Taskmaster when he saw the confirmation in her steady gaze. Breaking off, he followed Bobbi up the stairs, finding no other obstacles before hitting a floor with double doors that read: Authorized Personnel Only: Intensive Care Unit. He slowed, weapon coming back around to rest in his grip. "They powered a whole town by putting a girl into a coma." he said it with a mix of disbelief and frustration. "S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't exactly convincing me they shouldn't become a government section lost to time." The room was empty when they entered, the doors clattering behind them. He wasn't sure keeping quiet had any point anymore. Gun poised, he scanned the empty beds, not even noticing the low beep of the monitor and the occupied bed because his eyes landed on Yelena, seated and scanning through...something. "Didn't I leave you in a broom closet?" he said a little breathlessly, grip tightening on the weapon.

YELENA BELOVA: Was she mad? Yes. At Bucky and Natasha? No. At S.H.I.EL.D.? Of course. At Zemo, at the situation. Yelena had been pissed when she came to in a broom closet, tossed to the side like a basic cleaning supply. She remembered Astrid Massey, but her face wasn’t her own. Bullseye had met her in the hallway. He had given her the device Zemo was passing around to his teammates, the disrupter returning her to her former form. As Benjamin headed down the hallway to meet the ‘heroes’, Yelena moved to the ICU and found the Database. The codes were already unlocked from whatever doctor had run away mid scan from the intruders, and when the door opened Yelena glanced back over her shoulder. “Seemed more fun out here. I saw Taskmaster downstairs, but this was a better opportunity. They never let me up here. Now I know why.”

BUCKY BARNES: “Natasha is handling it.” Bucky remarked, lowering his weapon just a little bit. “I know what you’re doing, and it sucks to say this, but it isn’t helping. We can handle the database later, we need to deal with Ripley now.” he spoke pointedly at her, knowing that any form of coddling or soft spoken words didn’t apply here. Not that it ever did. Bucky could never imagine babying Yelena in any situation. “Just trust me on this.”

VIVIAN VISION: Vivian quickly grabbed onto Magik and Nico, not wasting any time as she phased the three of them past Bullseye and through to Ripley’s hospital room.

LAURA KINNEY: At his comment, the arch of a brow broke Laura’s deadpan. “Debatable taste.” She commented offhandedly. At the sight of Bullseye she crouched, lunging towards him without claws. Kwannon could follow Viv and the spellcasters. Laura had no problem being a distraction.

YELENA BELOVA: “Natasha is getting her ass handed to her. Again.” The sisters had a messy history with Taskmaster. She hit a key and the code flashed red, the page turning to a simple box for an access code. “We have to shut down the Database.” Yelena straightened up to look at him, her own gun holstered. “We can’t let them do this anymore.”

BUCKY BARNES: Bucky worked through the tic in his jaw, leveling his voice. By now, his nerves were frayed. “Do you Yelena?” he lowered the gun even more until the barrel was pointed at the floor. “Do you trust me?”

YELENA BELOVA: For a long moment, she just stared. Did she? It wasn’t easily answered. “I want to.” Yelena replied honestly. A finger hovered above the key before she moved, body tightening and constricting as she fell.

BOBBI MORSE: Running behind due to having to disable to alarms on the floor, Bobbi skidded to a stop as she lowered her stun gun. “--She was going to hit the key, right?”

YELENA BELOVA: “Fuck. You.” Yelena hissed from the ground, fingers digging into the tile as she tried to pull herself up. She wasn’t going to hit the key.

BUCKY BARNES: “Seriously?” he hissed, the metal plates clamping into place audibly as he tightened his grip. “Seriously, Bobbi?” he was pissed, clearly. “No wonder you’re a fucking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Bucky snatched the stun gun from Bobbi’s grip on his way past her, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it until it was in a bunch of little pieces before he finished his walk to Yelena. “She wasn’t going to hit the fucking key.” he crouched down, helping Yelena back to her feet. “What’s next? You want to hit Ripley too? Do you more good.”

BOBBI MORSE: “Oh, c’mon.” Bobbi muttered as she had the stun gun ripped away and trampled. It wasn’t like that would have been helpful for defense or anything. “Tell me she’s not a flight risk.” Dark eyes narrowed. “I’d love to hit Ripley. Hopefully wake her up. That goddamn stone is fragmenting and destabilizing the town. If it collapses we all may be written out off reality. No happy reunion with your girlfriend then, huh?”

YELENA BELOVA: Yelena just spit towards Bobbi’s feet as James help her up, holding on to his arm even when she was upright.

BUCKY BARNES: “You think you’re the one to call that?” he shot over his shoulder, fully standing now. “Being written out of reality wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to me this year.” he turned his attention to Yelena, looking her over but he didn’t ask her if she were okay. “You make an awful nurse, you know that?”

ILLYANA RASPUTINA: Phasing in along with Viv and Nico, Illyana stepped around the broken black shards of a weapon. “Now this is where the party is.” She laughed slightly. Making her way to the bed, dark lined eyes narrowed at the woman. Tugging the hospital gown to the side, the red glow of the Stone was flickering under the white bandages. “They said you would have another fragment. We need two.”

BOBBI MORSE: “I think I’m deepest in the shit and have used the Database before, so I made a snap judgement call. It’s not like I shot her. We talked it out.” Bobbi didn’t flinch at the spit. “Maybe not for you, but there’s a lot of other people here.”

YELENA BELOVA: “Nursing student.” Yelena muttered. “The scrubs were ugly.”

RIRI WILLIAMS: She had smashed in the window of the wrong room during her entry, but Riri found the right one after checking for heat signatures. “You have a second fragment now.” The suit’s chamber opened to expose the Reality Stone shard. “Zemo’s got the third.”

BUCKY BARNES: “They were pretty ugly.” he agreed quietly, face pinched lightly at the edges. His head whipped sharply around at Riri’s entrance, completely ignoring Bobbi at this point. “So we go get Zemo.” he took a breath. “Finally.”

ILLYANA RASPUTIN: As the armored teen guided the Stone back to its host, Magik looked to Nico. “Are you ready?” It wasn’t really a question. With eyes glowing blue, she held a hand out over the chest of Ripley. “I’m going to be very unhappy if she chooses to smite us.”

NICO MINORU: Nico looked down at the incubated woman, trying her best not to be intimidated by the thought of all that could go wrong as she adjusted her grip on her staff and nodded. She looked towards Riri as she entered the room and smiled in relief at the sight of another stone. “Okay, yeah. Ready.” She agreed as she gripped her staff and held her other hand over Ripley to follow Magik. “Stabilize.” The staff emitted a glow as she focused herself onto the spell.

YELENA BELOVA: “Jim. What a nice young man.” Yelena scoffed. She paused, softening slightly as she turned to face Bucky fully. “Thank you.” Her tone was composed of genuine relief. Rising up to reach his face, Yelena pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I do trust you.”

BOBBI MORSE: Determined to focus on the spell, Bobbi’s face twitched at Yelena and Bucky. Worse than high schoolers.

ILLYANA RASPUTIN: Drawing on Limbo, Illyana closed her eyes when she heard Nico’s staff and began chanting. Confirma. Stabiliendum. Solidatur. Est una tribus, tribus fit unum. Dormammu limbo ex angulis eminebant de profundis et frugibus suis circum nos, ut tecum una. As she repeated Wanda’s words, the red began to glow and overtake the room. It burned so brightly that it overtook the space and ate everything else out entirely.

BUCKY BARNES: With his ungloved hand, bucky cupped the side of Yelena’s face. “I know.” he heard Illyana and Nico behind him but he didn’t look. He had a gut feeling where this was going and he was just…relieved to see Yelena again. It tugged somewhere deep in his chest, making him oddly angry all over again. He was exhausted, frustrated, but relieved. “Also, please don’t ever mention Jim again.” he said on what sounded like a breathy laugh. “C’mere.” Even though they didn’t do this, Bucky pulled Yelena in close, arms wrapping around her small frame.

NICO MINORU: Confirma. Stabiliendum. Solidatur. Est una tribus, tribus fit unum. Dormanmu limbo ex angulis emine ant de profundis et frugibus suis circum nos, ut tecum una. Nico repeated alongside Magik, closing her eyes as the red glow overtook the entire room. Based on that, she hoped it was working. And she also hoped that they wouldn’t kill Ripley in the process.

YELENA BELOVA: Folding into him, Yelena stared at the two spellcasters. She hated magic. She hated how small it made her feel. She didn’t like Ripley either, but they all deserved better than this. “He was a victim too, at first.” The light was too bright then and Yelena had no choice but to avert her eyes.

RIPLEY RYAN: Every memory. Every life. Every backstory. The Town Database was comprehensive and the woman whose energy fueled it remembered every detail. For the first time since they had managed to restrain her, the stirrings of magic gave way to an elevated form of consciousness. Eyes and mouth open, red poured from them until reality was rattled by a burst of energy. Across the town, those left reverted to how they had looked before being changed. Faces returned and scarlet gave way to familiar bodies and clothes. When the wave washed over the hospital, it faded to reveal a blonde in a hospital gown standing in front of the mangled computer system. “I’m going to kill someone.”

LAURA KINNEY: The fight with Bullseye had ended, but Laura followed the scent of blood towards where the Black Widow and Taskmaster had fought. Natasha was fine, her adversary fleeing towards Zemo and the Town hall. When the redhead said she would follow him, Laura had left her to get to the ICU. Without her claws the fight had been a little different than she preferred, but not all of the blood on her was her own. By the time she got there, the room was awash in red. The force of the energy impact threw Laura against the wall, but when she straightened and came to, her cheerleading uniform was gone. The yellow and blue of her Wolverine suit had returned and when she flexed her hands she felt the adamantium.

BOBBI MORSE: Ripley looked mad, but Bobbi couldn’t blame her. She had every right to be. “That’s valid.” She limbed to her feet. “But can we raincheck? Your Stone -- it fractured. From what was being done. We got you a piece on it, but Zemo has a shard at Town Hall. Do I need to tell you how badly this could go?”

RIPLEY RYAN: Of course she didn’t need to. Ripley could feel Pleasant Hill destabilizing and reality growing thin. It Zemo accomplished his goals, he’d be taking her down. It was hard to live with a stone in your chest. it would be impossible to be fragmented. Even then, she could feel the other part calling out. Raising a hand, Ripley looked at the group. TOWN HALL. With that, the hospital was empty as they vanished in a flash of crimson.

#momevents #event: pleasant hill #pleasant hill: finale #chatlog: pleasant hill hospital

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onechicago-onefamily · 5 years ago

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Till it happens to you

Fandoms: Chicago Med, Chicago PD Characters: Jay Halstead, Will Halstead Prompt: Jay tried to save a suffocating Will: Both brothers end up in the hospital. There is a reason why they hate hospitals.

There had been times Jay had regretted getting shot. There was that one time with the Stash house, or that one time with the money heist... Only this time, he didn’t regret it. “Will? Will? Will!” He had been shot in the back, but it had been a through and through. Somehow, he had been lucky. It could have also been the opposite. It didn’t take away the fact that he absolutely hated hospitals. It wasn’t because he was scared or anything. No, the possibility of dying had been a part of his job description since forever. It was more that- “It’s okay mom. It’s okay.” She didn’t do anything else then puking. Yesterday had been all about puking, the day before that had been all about puking- It was like she didn’t know how to stop. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her. A scarf over her head, protecting her bald head from the outside world. Being all pale in her hospital bed. Jay hated hospitals. In hospitals, people died.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me? Please, come back to me.” He felt like he was waking up from a dream, but he knew that it was just his brain getting back to reality. He looked straight into Hailey her eyes, who had been sitting next to his bedside the entire day. “You know Hank is probably gonna give you a lecture about what you did?” Everything had come back to him in a split second. Jay could hear his blood rushing through his veins. The abandoned warehouse they had gotten as their location had to be it. It just had to be. “Follow us inside!” Hailey yelled to the paramedics. She ran towards the building. Jay kicked the door in. “Will! WILL!” They cleared every chamber but knew they’d found it when they entered the main room. In the middle of the room there was an iron square, looking like the outside of a huge ass cooling cell. “Hailey, call it in.” “51 George to main-” Jay started to pull at the door like his life depended on it. It opened surprisingly smooth. “Will! Oh no-” Hailey pulled him away while the paramedics barged in. Somewhere Jay was happy for it, because he found himself unable to move. “He isn’t breathing!” He could feel the tears streaming down his face and his mouth opening up. Was he screaming? He probably was. He wasn’t sure. When the paramedics started to defibrillate his brother, Jay felt he was fighting Hailey, just so he could go to Will- But the blonde wasn’t buging. All sound and common sense started to return to him when his brother’s heartbeat appeared on the monitor. “Jay? Jay, I’m gonna need you to take slow breaths for me okay? Let the medics do their job. Let them do what they’re good at. I’m not going to leave you. We’re gonna follow them to MED with the car. I’m not going to leave you alone.” After that, it had all gone to hell. Will his abductors had still been there. Shots had been fired, and Jay had done a not by Hank Voight approved move to protect the medics and his brother, resulting in getting shot in the back. He knew Voight would probably give him a lecture the minute he deemed Jay ready for it. He also knew that somewhere, the old sergeant would understand. “They have Will intubated in the ICU. They don’t know how long he has been without oxygen, so they don’t know the amount of damage that has been done. If you want to, doctor Marcel cleared you to visit him-” This made Jay look Hailey straight in the eyes. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out. “ But you’ll have to be in a wheelchair and you’ll need to take it really easy. That okay?” Jay didn’t answer again, but when Hailey reached her hand out to help him get out of bed, he grabbed it. Oh how he hated hospitals.

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Will had to admit it: He had done and seen some pretty horrible things in life. He had almost been the victim of the Marburg virus, he had shagged with wrong single women, but he had also shagged with married women, but choking in your own carbon dioxide: That was an entire new world.It had been the most terrifying moment of his entire life. He had felt the oxygen getting drained from his limbs, from his brain, knowing that if they weren’t fast enough when he had gone unconscious- Somehow he had woken up in darkness. He had been unable to open his eyes. If he were dead, he didn’t knew. He did knew that if he were alive- What if? Where they resuscitating him? Had they dragged him to the icu? He had no clue. He did know one thing: He hated being a patient in his own hospital. His colleagues having to treat him, his mother rotting away from cancer- He absolutely hated being in the hospital himself.

He didn’t know when his eyes had started to feel easier, not that heavy. Change in his senses- That was a good thing. It would mean he was alive! Great! Although, the doctor in him told him it could also mean something truly awful- How long had he been without oxygen? What damage would have been created? He knew he had to fight, fight to open up his eyes. He had to show them he was alive, despite everything that came with. Lights became available. The lights were bright, a voice- “You can do it man, take your time. You’re in the hospital, you’re okay.” A moan escaped his mouth, realizing he was intubated, but he didn’t feel the urge to resist the intubation. That wasn’t good. “Come’on Will, open up. Let them see, come-on.” The lights became normal. He looked straight into the face of his little brother. “You’re okay. I know, I hate them too. You can go back to sleep now.”

#Will Halstead #Jay Halstead #Chicago MED #chicago PD #One chicago #One chicago one family #one chicago fanfiction

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agents-are-dicks · 4 years ago

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@ everyone saying COVIDs not that serious and everything should just go back to normal

My aunt is currently dying in the hospital. She probably won’t last the day. She was forced to go back to her job at an elementary school. She was exposed to COVID just TWO WEEKS into the school year. Her doctor failed to treat her even after she developed pneumonia. She went to the hospital where she’s spent the past two months in ICU. Her lungs collapsed. She was intubated. It was up and down. She’s stubborn, and doesn’t like to be bothered but my family chose to continue her care because she told her daughter (my cousin) awhile back that it’s what she wanted. There were good days. She was COVID free as of the last week in October. Talks of rehab. She was switched from intubation to a tracheotomy just a week ago. My cousin was even able to visit her in her room the past few weeks. Ultimately, due to preexisting conditions she was unable to fight off the pneumonia and reinflate her lungs. The doctors had done everything they could. Her body wasn’t healing. They took her off the machines and placed her on comfort care (hospice) a mere hour ago. My aunt was a good Christian woman. And I say that as an atheist who thinks negatively toward religion because too many use it as an excuse for their hate. Sure, she wasn’t up to date with everything, but if you were kind and semi-respectful, she accepted you and loved you with all her might. She was my family’s go to person when we needed to feel cared for. She was the matriarch who loved and lived to care for everyone. She enjoyed the holidays and celebrations in general because it meant everyone was together and happy. My cap and gown is still sitting in my closet. We were waiting to celebrate until after things calmed down. She so was excited. So proud. Today is November 12th. Tomorrow, the 13th, my cousin (her daughter) with be 22. She will celebrate motherless parentless in a house, once a home, with a now unfillable void. My mother and I will be there trying to smooth things over. Ease the endless hurt and pain. More family will come bearing casseroles and grubhub gift cards but it will never be the same. The anniversary of my grandfathers death, whom we buried just last year, will come the 19th and it will bring more pain as we now bury his oldest daughter. My mother will spend her birthday on the 21st trying to cope with the fact that her best friend isn’t there to spend it with her. She will help care for my cousin whilst trying not to spiral downwards into and endless depression, knowing that she will never see her sister again and must instead learn how to live without her. Thanksgiving will come as just another reminder that everyone’s favorite holiday hostess isn’t there. Then Christmas and my birthday and every holiday/celebration after that from then on out. November will seem cursed. Holidays will seem pointless. And I will forever think about how desperate I was to hug my aunt the last time I saw her and wish I could do it over again. Appreciate it more because life now seems pointless.

So tell me. Tell my cousin balling her eyes out over my aunts hospital bed. Tell my mom whose trying to hold it together for her niece but is secretly breaking down inside. Tell my family why you think it’s okay to to ignore basic safety protocols, send children to crowded schools, and lack basic common sense and human decency at the expense of people’s lives? Tell them why you think COVIDs not serious, everyones overreacting, and how everything should just go back to normal even if it means killing people? Good people.

Update: My aunt has officially past away

#and to everyone else #feel free to share/reblog this #covid #tw covid #tw death #tw illness #tw grieving #tw greif #message me if I need to tag this as something else for you

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chrysocomae · 4 years ago

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Please share this essay from a healthcare worker from r/CoronavirusUS

What to expect when you get critically ill from COVID-19. A healthcare worker’s perspective.

"I am a healthcare worker who has volunteered to be a part of the COVID ICU “proning team” at the hospital where I work. I am writing this because my colleagues and I had a long discussion today about how disconnected the public is when it comes to the harsh reality of this virus and what it does to people. I will describe in as much detail as possible what you should expect to “experience” when you get critically ill from COVID-19.

By the time I meet you in the hospital, you’re already intubated in the ICU. This means that you likely started feeling terrible enough to get yourself to a hospital and then got admitted into said hospital. Your condition worsened to the point that the medical team determined that your best chance of survival would be to place you in a medically-induced coma and hook you up to a ventilator that literally breathes for you. The process that leads up to this point is traumatic, terrifying, and lonely. You are allowed zero visitors and your only interactions are with strangers that come into your room unannounced, wearing what look to you like hazmat suits. The hospital you’re staying in isn’t equipped with enough “negative-pressure” rooms to contain the virus and keep it from spreading to the hallway so there will be a giant window unit that pumps all the air from your room out the window vs allowing it back into the hospital. This window unit is LOUD (similar to a generator) and it will drive you absolutely insane because it MUST be running 24/7. So, you’re just going to have to accept that. As terrible as all this external hell feels, it’s nothing compared to what’s going on internally. Your body is deteriorating. Every breath is a gasp. Turning over to face the door when you hear a knock is impossible because you are literally THAT exhausted. Your oxygen levels continue to drop, even though you are being pumped MASSIVE amounts of pure oxygen through your nose (which is now bleeding constantly because it is completely dried out). The oxygen levels drop so low that the only course of action is to make you comatose, give you a paralyzing agent so you don’t thrash, and place you on a ventilator. Ok, so NOW let’s get to the bad part.

You’re laying on a bed, on your back. Unconscious, naked, Foley catheter in your urethra, and maybe (if your nurse is lucky) a FlexiSeal in your anus to collect all your diarrhea (look it up if you have questions). A ventilator is placed down your throat, somewhere between 20-28centimeters down. It will probably move around if it’s not tethered, which is a no-no, so it will be taped to your head/face. We’ll come back to this later, because that tape will eventually mess up your face, maybe permanently. A feeding tube goes down your nose because comatose people can’t eat, obviously. So your diet is now a nutrient-packed yellow mushy soup. Yum! Ok this is the basic setup.

Even with all this medically-engineered hoopla, you continue to deteriorate. The ventilator is running 100% oxygen down your throat, into your lungs but still not enough is getting into your blood. This is where organ failure starts to happen. Kidney failure, brain damage, etc. And this is where me and my “proning team” show up at your door.

Prone = laying on your stomach.

Supine = laying on your back.

Proning = turning you from your stomach onto your back.

Why do we do this? Well, to simplify it, the back of your lungs are bigger and better at oxygenating your blood. But when you’re laying on your back, all the fluid (LOTS of fluid) in your lungs accumulates and fills the back of your lungs - thus drowning them and making them much less effective. Flipping you onto your stomach causes that fluid to move to the front of your lungs (because gravity), freeing up the back of your lungs to do their better job. Honestly, it’s pretty amazing to see how quickly you will go from 79% oxygen (SpO2) to 93% as soon as we turn you onto your stomach. It’s very satisfying for us. Makes us feel proud. We’ll pat you on the back, literally, and give you kudos for this oxygen accomplishment.

We will plan to leave you in this prone position for somewhere between 12 to 18 hours. Your head is turned to the side, otherwise the ventilator tube would be rammed through the back of your mouth. Don’t worry, we will position this for you, you’re paralyzed, remember?

Once those 12 - 18 hours are up, the prone team comes back in to flip you back over to supine. This is where things can get ugly. Being paralyzed and on your stomach leads to A LOT of swelling/edema. Especially in your face. Your tongue has swelled up to ~5x it’s normal size and it doesn’t fit in your mouth anymore. Lips swell x5 times, too. Your eyelids have been taped shut but they’re swollen too. It looks like you have golf balls under your eyelids. Now, remember that tape that holds the ventilator tube in place? Well, it’s still holding tight. And with all the face/mouth swelling, I should emphasize the word TIGHT. You’ll be in this condition for a while. Maybe a week, maybe two, maybe three. That tape will get replaced daily but it will do some damage to your skin, especially your lips and ears. And since your blood isn’t getting proper oxygen, your body isn’t great at healing wounds. So, expect your face to look a little different for a LONG time, if you make it out alive. I now can say that I have seen a living person’s cheekbones. Not the form of the cheekbones, but the ACTUAL bones, because their wounds on their cheeks got so bad that the flesh necrotized and sloughed off during the friction involved with a head turn.

Where were we? Oh yes, we just flipped you back to supine. The 5 of us will be doing some routine care on you: wiping you down with Chlorhexidine Gluconate (CHG) wipes, putting Venelex cream and Mepilex patches your bed sores (think bony prominences - knees, clavicles, sternum, shoulders, nipples, shins, cheeks, etc.), using a suction device to suck up all the secretions from your mouth and nose, cleaning up your diarrhea from EVERYWHERE and changing that pesky face tape. Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle.

Now, it’s been maybe 10-15 minutes on your back. We stand back and assess how you’re doing. If you’re a champ, your oxygen levels stay in the low/mid 90s and we can leave you like this for 1 to 8 hours before you start deteriorating again, at which point it’s back onto your stomach.

The idea is that each time we put you back in supine, you’ll be able to maintain longer and longer periods of time before your oxygen drops to the 80s or 70s (or 60s, 50s, 40s, you get it).

The longer you’re in this ICU situation, the worse it gets. Eventually, we have to start doing all the routine care from the side-lying position, because putting you on your back could literally kill you. The supine position becomes intolerable - your blood pressure starts to plummet, your heart skips beats or shoots up to the 200s (or just stops) and your oxygen level drops immediately. So, unfortunately, you go back onto your stomach. More swelling, yay! Repeat this process daily and hope for better results each time. The more often we have to repeat, the less likely you are to survive, because it’s an indicator of how poorly your lungs are recovering.

Now, this is the point where someone might ask, “why are you keeping this person alive? Isn’t it inhumane to prolong this person’s suffering? What quality of life will they have when/if they survive?” Unfortunately, that’s not our choice. Even more unfortunately, it’s likely not even YOUR choice. Who’s choice is it? Your Medical Power of Attorney (MPOA), which 9 times out of 10, is a family member. Now, remember, there are zero visitors allowed for COVID-19 patients. That means that your family is getting ALL the information about your condition from a phone call or texts messages from someone on the healthcare team. Your family can’t see you and they can’t talk to you. Thus, they simply cannot appreciate just how much you are suffering. How could they? It’s not their fault. They love you. They’re praying for you. They’re wondering if they are making the right choice but they are doing so without all the information, because a phone call from a doctor or case manager can only go so far.

Above all, they are holding on to hope. Hope that you’ll come back from this. That you’ll be that patient in that next news video that gets the standing ovation as they’re wheeled out of the hospital because YOU MADE IT. And I hope you do, too. We all do. We care about you. If you make it out of that ICU, you’ve got months of rehab ahead of you. Your fight for life has JUST started. The success story is that, against all odds, you didn’t die.

Or, maybe you did. As I write this, 170,000 people have died from COVID-19 in the US alone. Each one of those people had a story, a life, a family, dreams, goals and a future. So many of them suffered tremendously through their last days, with strangers. Now they’re gone, forever. And that ICU bed is ready for the next one. I hope it’s not you. I hope it’s not your mom, dad, grandpa, aunt, sister, child or neighbor. But if it is, you can count on me and my coworkers to be gentle with you and treat you with dignity and respect. We will do everything in our power to get you home. This virus doesn’t care about your political affiliations, your plans, your freedoms. It doesn’t care about you at all. So we will.

Now, if I may.....please wear your damn mask.

Edit: The title says “when you get critically ill.” Emphasis on the “critically ill.” This is NOT what the average person should expect when they test positive. Most people DONT get critically ill. The VAST majority of people will never even see a regular hospital room, much less the ICU - I tested positive and I recovered at home with no medical intervention. Most will have mild symptoms and then recover. That being said, this post reflects a real possibility and a current reality for many people. I want people to understand the harsh reality of COVID-19. It affects everyone differently and taking small, practical precautions can keep you from ever having to wonder “is this going to happen to me?” or “did I get grandma sick because I didn’t take this seriously?” I apologize that this came off as fear mongering. The post reflects my experience as a healthcare worker and I feel that the public hasn’t had enough of that experience other than “we are overworked and tired.”

#covid 19 #covid19 #coronavirus usa #coronavirus #coronapocalypse #2020 election #election 2020 #usa #us politics #trump #fuck trump #pandemic #wear a mask #wear a fucking mask people #masks4all

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undesired-attention · 4 years ago

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Day 1604: setback today. Moms been super wheezy and sounds like she needs to cough stuff up constantly, she’s been able to but small amounts. She had an episode of apnea last night when she slept so they consulted pulmonology who did a chest X-ray, her left lung is entirely collapsed. Looking at her you’d have no idea, she is very wheezy and coughing and on oxygen when she falls asleep, but she shows no other urgent signs. So they gave us two options. First was take her back to ICU, intubate her again, and do a bronchoscopy to manually remove the blockage. She’d be sedated for at least two days. Second was to try and wait it out, see if she’s able to cough up the blockage that’s causing her collapsed lung, doing different nebulizer treatments and doing the vest therapy that shakes the shit out of you to try to loosen it up and promote coughing it out. I made the decision to try the second option first, and hopefully she’s able to cough it out... we did the vest therapy and one of the nebs this afternoon and she tolerated them both very well. They want her moving, they said her best bet to getting it to re expand is to get up to the chair during the day and be walking around as much as she’s able to. So we got her to stand and get on the scale to weigh her properly, she took some steps. She’s so weak and leans backwards hard, but she hasn’t walked in a fucking week. Like my aunt said, she moves two steps forward and falls back three. I’m so tired of all these surprises and major issues showing up... I really don’t want her to be intubated again. They almost canceled extubating her Wednesday because she got agitated when she was waking up on the vent but the nurse yelled at her and she made herself calm down. She’s still hallucinating from the medications wearing off, she knows what she sees isn’t real but we’re still working on it wearing off. There’s also a slight problem with her abdominal wound, I think they need to redo some staples tomorrow because the wound isn’t fully closed and they’re putting packing in it but some look very close to just popping out and leaving her with an inch long by inch wide gap. Just oh my god, so much. I faxed my FMLA paperwork today. I need to take off next week because the ostomy nurse needs me there to help learn about our different options. So much anxiety, so much.

#jj

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classysassy9791 · 5 years ago

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My mom recently made a suggestion. That since I’m on the front lines of this pandemic, that I should keep some semblance of a journal dictating how I’m feeling, what it’s like, and what I’m experiencing. So I have been.

But today’s entry nearly broke me...

...

April 6th, 2020 0445

God. I want to fucking scream.

I feel so fucking helpless. All of my knowledge. All of my experience, and kind heart, and two hands that were born to save… can do nothing except fold in prayer. Because Hector, a dear friend, the husband of one of my best friends, Karen, who walked the stage with me at graduation. He’s in the hospital. He’s hispanic, in his thirties, with a history of diabetes. No lung issues to speak of.

She had been infected with COVID-19 and had luckily made a full recovery, but now Hector has it. On Saturday, April 4th, he was taken to the hospital because he was having trouble breathing. His O2 sats were at 82% and his respiratory rate was 28 with crackles. His chest xray showed the condition from the virus. He was admitted and placed on 3L. This she told me at 10:41 pm. She believed he was going to be in the hospital for a few days, she told me at 11:20 am on Sunday, April 5th. And by 1:14pm, he was being transferred to ICU. His O2 sats were 80% on a 15L nonrebreather. At 7:39pm, they intubated him because his O2 sats were at 75%. On Monday morning, April 6th, Hector’s birthday, I received a text that she had just gotten off the phone with the hospital. That Hector was at 100% FiO2 and they put him on nitrixoxide. He had made very little improvement, but if it didn’t work, then they were going to put him on echmo or he may pass.

27 hours. That was all it took from the time he was having trouble, to being on death’s door.

Karen tells me she wants him home. That before he went into the hospital, he told her he didn’t think he was coming home after this. When she talked to him Sunday morning before they had decided to intubate, he was telling her what she needed to do when he was gone. And now she waits. Waiting for the news that he’s gone, or waiting for the news that they are going to try one more thing to maybe save his life. And what life would that be? Even if he survives, would he ever be able to come off the vent? Would he ever be able to joke and laugh with me again like all those days ago? God… that seems like a lifetime ago. And what of his three beautiful children? What are they to do without their dad?

I was already on the edge of becoming a crying mess before I left work Sunday morning. I had to admit a patient who thankfully had come back negative for COVID-19. And the other was a full DNR, a ward of the state, whose guardians were still pushing for dialysis and blood transfusions, even though there was little hope that he would survive.

And I’m sitting here on a Monday morning, trying to do anything to distract myself from worrying and yet the anxiety is overpowering. I am restless. I have a pit in my stomach. I don’t know what to do with myself. If I was at work, at least then my mind would be kept busy. But I also know I needed today to rest my mind, and heal my mental energy. But… how can I rest now?

Feeling helpless in such a crisis is a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

And all Karen can say to me, all she can do, is tell me there is nothing I can do. There is nothing anyone can do.

#sassy stays classy #COVID-19 #nurse strong #crisis

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lovemelesslovemelonger · 5 years ago

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The COVID-19 autocracy: when your neighbour dies

When someone you've known for all your life dies and he's not just a number on the news. No one is just a number on the news. What happens, what can you do? Nothing. I live in a small village and in my street we all know each other pretty well, especially those who live next to you. Our street became a small cluster of humans who can't cry, but just walk in circle around our courtyard, we can talk to each other at safe distance, but words are just broken. We didn't even know if he was home or at the hospital, we couldn't talk to the family, nothing. You might say "well, you should've called!": this thing takes away that too, they hid themselves, they didn't tell anyone what was going on cause it felt like a shame to be infected, they didn't want anyone to know. We knew cause we noticed they just disappered and they didn't come out, not even for a small stroll in the courtyard. We were just waiting, we were just waiting to see him coming outside after the quarantine, cause when you're sick you stay inside your home for 14 days straight and you just think that it's all it takes to feel better. But then, a grey van, when no car is around, started going back and forth. My mom saw it, she wanted it to be the man who brings us groceries, but it was not. She went out and took the courage to ask if the person was looking for someone. It was the undertaker van and he was looking for my neighbour's home. My mom started crying so loud everyone came out and then we just all went inside. That night, we left a note in their mailbox, to his wife and daughter: "we are in so much pain, but we are here for you and with you". The morning after she called called us, she wanted to tell us first thinking that we didn't know, obviously she didn't see the note. He was healthy, he was just over 70, the only thing she said was "they killed him, they don't know how to treat this thing". She knows they didn't kill him, but it's true that we still don't know how to save a healthy man, not even ICU and intubation was enough. The most cruel thing of this all is that you can't stay close to people, you see them before they hop on an ambulance and you don't see them ever again. You can't take care of them, you can't be with them when they go, you can't see them after. You don't know how they dress them (they can't even dress them actually) and they just get buried, alone. And you are at home, and those who love you can't stay close to you (they've also been put under quarantine and they can't be together, his wife is upstairs, her daughters downstairs). Yesterday I saw his dog in the courtyard and the first thing I thought was to cuddle her through the grid that separetes our properties. I just did it, I didn't even think she's from a home where the virus killed a person. My mom immmediately made me change my clothes, I washed my hands 10 times, I spent the day worrying I might got infected and what if I infect my parents and my two 91 years old grand-parents? Today I found myself in the garden crying, and my tears felt infected, everything feels infected. These days have been all sort of rough, my parents keep touching themselves to see if they are hot. My grandma went through the war, she lost her 18 years old brother, she had to take care of her deaf and paralyzed dad and went through so many tragedies we have traumas for generations. She didn't deserve to see this, to fear for her 31 years old grandchild, for my mom and my dad. No one deserved this.

#life under quarantine #coronavirus #coronapocalypse #covidー19 #covid2020 #covid #staysafe #stayhome #lockdown #italy

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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game of survival, chapter eleven (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: Just the epilogue to go after this chapter, and Game of Survival is finished! Feels absolutely surreal. Thank you Bean and Writ for being amazing as always in both encouragement and roasting. I need both.

“Miss, if you even think about climbing onto that bed one more time-”

“Okay, okay!” Vanessa raises her hands in surrender, maneuvering herself back into her own chair amidst the sound of Brooke’s laughter.

Brooke’s nurse isn’t as amused. “Do you want to be responsible for accidentally pulling on Ms. Hytes’ chest drain and IVs? Or upsetting her dressings? Or making her stay in the ICU for longer than necessary?”

Vanessa’s answer is meek. “No?”

“That’s what I thought. Stay there, on your chair.” The nurse points at her like she’s a kindergartener who’s been caught stealing a friend’s snack, and Brooke lets out a snort, one that is spurred further when Vanessa swats at her hand.

“Yes, mom.” Vanessa can’t help her retort at the nurse. It’s juvenile, she knows, but it cracks Brooke up further so it’s worth it.

The nurse fixes her with a narrowed gaze, but Vanessa can see the twinkle behind her eyes. “Good thing you’re a politician. Not sure any other field would put up with you acting such a fool.”

“Hey!” Vanessa can’t even be mad because the nurse is right, though she wants to argue that law comes close. She had out-argued many oppositions during her short career as a lawyer before her foray into politics, with techniques that would have made her law school professors drop their heads into their hands. The brazenness still comes in handy now, debating and bullshitting in a way that gets the public on her side.

The nurse pauses, looking at the two of them and their intertwined fingers. “That being said, happy to hear you’re safe. Heard that you were maybe attacked or something. They talked about it on the 11 o'clock news.”

“Did they really?” Vanessa tries to keep her voice casual and unaffected, wondering if it was a story planted by Ra’jah or just speculation about what happened based on the bare bone facts known by the public (the explosion, the bodies in her apartment). She hopes it’s the former.

“Yeah.” The nurse is distracted as she writes in Brooke’s medical chart, seeming to have already moved on from the conversation. “Glad that you’ll live to piss another old politician off. I’d vote for you.”

Vanessa lets out a breath, looks over at Brooke who raises her eyebrows in response. “Well, I appreciate that…” she pauses, squints her eyes to read the nurse’s nametag, “Asia. And thanks for taking such good care of Brooke.”

Vanessa can hear her politician voice coming out of her mouth and it feels strange, almost foreign, though it’s easy to slip back into the role. One where she reflects the wishes of the public, acting like a beacon to which they can attach their hope and desire for change. She’s not sure how convincing it is, though, considering that she stuck her tongue out at Asia a few minutes prior.

Asia gathers up some medication vials and gauze, heading out of the room. She pauses in the doorway. “It’s my job. And stay out of that bed, don’t let me catch you in trouble.”

Brooke’s eyes are alight with mischief when Vanessa looks at her after Asia leaves. “Someone just got yelled at by their teacher.”

“Not even, she likes me. I can tell. I’m a delight.” Vanessa’s humble, real humble, but mostly it’s just to make Brooke smile. “Besides, I’m remembering that it was you, Miss Thing, who asked me to climb up there with you.”

Brooke shrugs, as much as she can in the bed. “Not denying it. You’d make this bed so much comfier.”

“Jesus, woman. You’ll get me kicked out of your hospital room at this point.” Vanessa shakes her head, and can’t hold back her grin. She doesn’t know how the Brooke that she saw so many weeks ago, cold and ready to kill her, is the same one that’s in front of her now with her eyes all up as she taps her fingers on the railing of her bed. But she’s not complaining.

Brooke coughs and winces, though the grimace on her face is gone as fast as it appears. It doesn’t stop Vanessa from catching it, letting out a sigh.

“C’mon, baby. Increasing the morphine drip would help. I hate seeing you in so much pain every time you try to fucking breathe.” Brooke can barely move without the drain in her chest shifting positions, a pain that makes her whimper, the sound making Vanessa’s heart tug each time. She hates that Brooke has to go through it.

Brooke’s answer is fast. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t.”

“Why not?” Vanessa doesn’t get it. Why is Brooke insisting on the lessened painkillers, the ones that still leave her aware of the way her chest was cut open and stitched up, feeling every tug and pull?

“I can’t, okay? I just…” Brooke’s words trail off and Vanessa wants to take back her question, seeing the way that Brooke has to close her eyes, steady her breath. “It’s fucking terrifying. Have you had it before? Do you know what it’s like?”

“Aside from some laughing gas at the dentist, not really.” Vanessa feels sheepish as soon as the answer leaves her mouth.

“It’s nothing like laughing gas.” Brooke’s voice is flat. “It’s like being trapped in my fucking nightmares and not being able to get out and not knowing what’s even real. Everything blurs and suddenly things are here and then they’re not, and it feels like you’re losing your mind. Just slowly, enough to notice it happen.”

Brooke pauses, swallows hard. “So yes, I’d rather take the pain, bad as it fucking is. I don’t like feeling like I’m losing it. Because I’m not.”

Shit. Vanessa’s really fucked up. She knows sensitivity isn’t necessarily her strong suit, but she wasn’t thinking, seeing it from Brooke’s point of view. “Sorry. You’re not. I…I didn’t know it was like that.”

Brooke deflates. “It’s fine. I’m just going to stick to lesser painkillers, because I’d rather feel it than not know what I’m feeling at all.”

Vanessa bites her lip. “You’ll tell me, though, if it gets unbearable or worse? We can try to figure something else out.”

“Yeah. I will.” Brooke doesn’t seem to have any fight in her. Neither of them do, not over something where they’re on the same side.

Brooke’s eyes flit to the clock behind her, almost imperceptibly. “When did you say they were coming, again?”

Vanessa squeezes her hand. “Around 1:00. A’keria and Silky and Yvie are all leaving work early so we can go over this shit as a group.”

“Okay. Great. Cool.” Vanessa can see the gears turning in Brooke’s brain, spinning faster and faster as her thoughts no doubt start to spiral and build upon one another.

“Hey. Look at me.” Vanessa keeps her voice soft and her face gentle, stroking Brooke’s palm with her thumb when she hears the shallowness of Brooke’s breathing, the speeding up of the heart rate monitor above their heads. “You’re safe right now. We’re safe. Yvie’s got a police detail outside this room, plus they have the men from the cabin in custody. It’s gonna take a lot more for any bitches to get through to us at the moment.”

Brooke nods though she doesn’t look convinced, her eyebrows creasing just enough that Vanessa wants to reach and smooth them out for her.

“This hospital is such a damn maze, anyway. It took me about thirty minutes of cursing in hallways to find your room after going to the bathroom. Like an escape room, but in reverse. Ain’t nobody gonna find us in here without a bit of a struggle first.” She wishes she had better words to say, ones to assuage the look in Brooke’s eyes that reminds her of a caged animal.

Brooke is good, too good at tampering it down though, steeling herself. “You’re right.”

Vanessa’s not sure if Brooke believes it herself. She looks so small in the bed without her leather jacket and weapons and boots, not as if she towers over Vanessa when standing. It makes Vanessa want to cocoon Brooke in some blankets, bubble wrap maybe, to keep her safe. Or, at least give her one of her weapons so that she feels more secure and in control.

Vanessa wonders what that feels like, the loss of control. Being confined to a three by eight foot bed, unable to get up and move around unless a physiotherapist or a nurse is present. Tethered to the room by IVs and wires and monitors responsible for broadcasting minute details about your body for everyone to see. Going from being able to walk around, lift things, move on your own accord to suddenly…not. At least, not without pain.

Brooke seems to be taking it well. Real well, by the way her hands are wringing in her lap. It’s only been one day, but Vanessa can tell that Brooke is going a bit stir crazy from being stuck in bed, despite the pain. Vanessa can’t blame her in the least.

It’s easier when Brooke’s eyes flutter shut as she falls asleep and her face smoothes out, the worries that she carries around with her every day suddenly lifting from her shoulders. Vanessa wishes that she could take them, shoulder them herself so that Brooke doesn’t have to anymore.

The arrival of Silky, A’keria, and Yvie is a welcome distraction. Vanessa watches Brooke’s face light up as the sounds of bickering in the hallway get louder and louder, culminating in the three of them stumbling into the room, arms laden with bags of takeout.

Yvie holds one up. “Figured this shit would taste better than whatever you’re getting here.”

Brooke accepts the bag with grateful hands and pulls out a burger. Vanessa is faster though, and grabs it from her hand.

“Hey!” Brooke pouts in her direction, and Vanessa has to work hard to keep her face neutral because it’s the cutest sight she’s ever seen.

Vanessa opts to raise an eyebrow at her instead. “Didn’t the doc say you gotta wait until the speech therapist sees you and makes sure you can swallow okay without choking and shit? Especially because they intubated you, your throat’s probably all scratched up.”

So maybe sitting in the ICU has turned her into a mother hen. Who’s to say? She just wants Brooke to be careful.

Brooke’s smile in return is wicked. “Who says I don’t swallow?”

“Unbelievable.” Vanessa rolls her eyes but can’t hide her grin, especially with the guffaws that come from A’keria, Silky, and Yvie.

Brooke reaches a hand out for the burger nonetheless. “I’m hungry. If I start choking or something, just call the nurse. Besides, she’ll probably yell at you for it, not me.”

Vanessa can’t say no to Brooke for long, sighing and handing her the burger. “No regard for your safety at all, huh? You’re probably right.”

The way Brooke grins is worth it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop Vanessa from watching Brooke like a hawk while she eats.

Yvie pulls out a small whiteboard from her bag once Brooke is done eating, handing it to her along with a dry erase marker. “Here. I know how much you like making your boards.”

“Boards?” Silky’s question is muffled by a bite of her own sandwich. “Like a Pinterest board?”

“Not quite.” Yvie grins. “Just watch.”

Brooke pays no attention, already scrawling a name on the board, grip shaky. Vanessa tries to tilt her head to read it. “Cain? Who’s Cain?”

Brooke bites her lip. “Not just a person. A family. They’re connected to all of this.”

“How?”

“It wasn’t just any men who showed up at the cabin,” Brooke starts, twisting the marker in her grip, “they were some of the men that work for that family.”

“I’m confused as hell.” A’keria’s lips are pursed as she stares at the board. “Who are they?”

Brooke swallows hard and Vanessa wants to reach out, squeeze her hand. It takes a second before she speaks. “They had hired me and a…colleague of mine years back, for a hit. My colleague then did another hit for them, and it didn’t go well. He killed the person that he was supposed to, but almost got caught. One of their family members, the matriarch, was convicted for it by police instead. Shuga Cain. They thought that she had done it. She’s now been locked up for years.”

Vanessa whistles. “Damn. That’s cold.”

“The Cain family was after my colleague for ages after, trying to get back the money for the hit since it wasn’t done right. When he didn’t have the money and instead attempted to pick them off one by one, they killed him. I found him, because he called me instead of calling 911. It was too late when I got there. Idiot.” Brooke pauses, looking down at the board.

“I’m sorry.” Vanessa’s voice comes out soft, and she wishes she had something better to offer. But what can she say to someone whose life reads like an action thriller movie?

“It was years ago.” Vanessa can see the mask on Brooke’s face beginning to return, the one that settles into place whenever she shares too much, is too vulnerable. “They’ve been bothering me on and off since then. Wanting the money. Pulling guns when I don’t have it for them. Figure they want an eye for an eye, since my colleague killed one of theirs. So they’ve been going after me.”

“Lord Almighty Jesus.” Silky’s statement is punctuated by a sip of her soft drink. “You really know how to get yourself into deep shit, huh?”

Brooke shrugs. “Apparently so. It had been okay, though. I could keep up my job, keep them from getting to me as long as I was careful, extra vigilant.”

“Wow.” Vanessa thinks of the way that Brooke is always so wary, eyes constantly darting around, and the way her hand isn’t far from a holstered weapon at all times. Things start to make a little bit more sense. “How the hell haven’t you been losing your fucking mind? I would have lost it ages back, having to be so shifty.”

“Who says I haven’t already?” Brooke doesn’t smile. “I got used to it. Being vigilant only helped with the job.”

“How does that family tie in here?” Yvie’s voice is curious. The connection isn’t clear to Vanessa yet either, making her head spin a little.

“Him. They were working with him.” Brooke writes the name of the congressman that hired her, and connects it to ‘Cain’.

“What? How do you know?” Vanessa can’t help but ask. How would she know? Unless-

“In the cabin. When you were waiting in the car. I was trying to stall them, buy some time until I could figure out what to do, keep them away from you. Got them to spill their plan instead. Those men were not exactly the brightest tools in the shed.” Brooke shrugs.

A’keria leans forward in her chair, still looking a bit skeptical. “What was the plan?”

Brooke is unperturbed as she continues. “Some of the Cain family members made a deal with the congressman - they were going to complete the hit on Vanessa for half the price that the congressman was originally going to pay me, then frame me for it. Two for one deal. They’d get money - alot of money - from killing Vanessa, then get their revenge on me. Put me behind bars, the way that Shuga is.”

“That’s-”

“What the hell-”

“How-”

Silky’s voice cuts above everyone attempting to speak at once. “They told you all this?”

“It was very last manifesto, final villain speech. More gloating than anything. Not that it mattered, in the end.”

Vanessa snickers, ignoring the look that A’keria sends her way. “They sound like Scooby Doo villains.”

Brooke snorts. “Fitting. They aren’t exactly high on the Cain family totem pole. I think they were excited to have finally been successful for once. Or at least, they thought so.”

A’keria fixes her steely look on Brooke instead. “How do we know that you’re even telling the truth?”

Brooke shrugs. “You don’t. But what reason would I have to make it up?”

Yvie leans forward in her seat. “Sat in on their interrogations today. Both dropped the congressman’s name - enough for us to bring him in for questioning, at least, so it’s a start.”

Brooke looks at her in curiosity. “You’re not even from the precinct that they were brought in to. How’d you swing that?”

Yvie grins. “I can be persuasive when I want to.”

Vanessa doesn’t doubt it, from the way she could hear Yvie bickering earlier with Silky. “Did they mention Brooke? Or me?”

“They mentioned that the congressman had hired them to kill you, but clammed up after more questions. I think that’s when they realized they had gotten themselves into deep shit.” Yvie shrugs. “More than enough information to start off with. But it corroborates what Brooke is saying.”

Brooke’s slowly covered the board in notes, drawn lines and connected them in an intricate web. It looks like the one that she had made in the cabin, though more detailed. Speaking of which-

“The board in the cabin! Is it still up? Ain’t the police gonna find it?” She and Brooke are so, so, screwed if they do, what if Brooke’s written something about being hired by the congressman-

But then Silky and A’keria look at her with matching sheepish expressions.

“We may have committed a felony by tampering with evidence and torn it down during the chaos, when we came along with the police. No one was watching us anyway.” Silky’s voice is comically defensive.

“Not while they were cuffing those guys and tending to Miss Brooke Lynn over here, bleeding out on the ground,” A’keria shrugs, “very easy to do.”

Vanessa’s speechless. She knows her team is good at getting away with things, shady in their actions when they need to in the political realm. But how’d they not get caught with so many officers nearby? “Y’all are something else. Truly something else.”

“You’re welcome, bitch. You would be in such deep shit without us.” Silky’s grin is satisfied as she high fives A’keria.

Vanessa shakes her head, impressed. They’re not wrong.

Yvie raises an eyebrow. “As an officer of the law, I’m gonna pretend that I didn’t hear any of that.”

“You,” Silky points a finger at her, “of all people, cannot talk. You’ve known Brooke’s a hitwoman for years! Ain’t that some obstruction of justice?”

“Well…” Yvie pauses. “Yes. Let’s just all keep our mouths shut, shall we?”

And here Vanessa thought that politicians were the most shady of all. Turns out everyone is at least a little bit shitty. It’s a bit reassuring, in a strange way.

Brooke’s smiling, a real smile, looking like she’s having the same thought as Vanessa. “Looks like you all are coming to hell with me. I’ll pack snacks for the journey.”

“Do not even joke about that.” Silky’s immediate protest makes Vanessa giggle. “I am a woman of God, a good Christian lady and will not be coming with y’all, thank you very much.”

A’keria brings their focus back, pulling out doctored paperwork to go over with them - fake contracts of Vanessa hiring Brooke as a bodyguard, fake business cards that describe Brooke’s services in private security. Brooke whistles, looking up at A’keria. “You are powerful. Scarily powerful, you know that?”

A’keria’s smile is satisfied. “That’s my job, baby. Keeping Vanessa out of trouble. And you too, now. Vanessa’s whining would be too much to deal with if you got arrested.”

Silky and Yvie snicker when Brooke and Vanessa protest at the same time, though Vanessa can’t even deny the words.

The three of them leave after that, their loud conversation echoing down the hallway. Vanessa can tell that the methodical planning and mapping out of the details has helped to give Brooke back some sense of control and feel less helpless. She’s glad it worked.

Brooke turns to her then, as their voices in the hallway eventually fade. “You don’t have to stay, you know. Not gonna make you sit here with me in that uncomfortable chair, you probably have better things that you want to do now that no one’s after you anymore-”

“Absolutely not.” Vanessa cuts Brooke off before she can even finish her sentence, because how can Brooke even think that? “I ain’t leaving you, not now.”

Not ever, Vanessa thinks, though the words are a bit too scary to say out loud.

“You shouldn’t feel like you owe me anything, after all this.” Brooke’s voice is small. “I basically kidnapped you and took you to that cabin.”

“You’ve been thinking about that, huh?” Vanessa raises an eyebrow at her.

Brooke won’t meet her eyes. “No.”

“Brooke,” she starts, then pauses, because how can she even put it into words? “I’m not here because I feel like I owe you for saving my life. Though you did, so thanks for that.”

Brooke giggles at that, though Vanessa can hear the sniffle in her voice.

Vanessa continues. “I’m here because I care about you. It don’t matter how we started, not when we look at where we are now.”

“Where are we, then?” Brooke’s voice is a challenge, as if she’s wanted to talk about it too.

“I dunno. Where do you want to be? What do you want us to be?” Vanessa is almost afraid of Brooke’s answer. What if, after all of this, she’s done and wants to move on-

“All I know is that I care about you too.” Brooke almost whispers it. “I haven’t done this in a long time, I don’t even know what to do but I don’t want to lose you. I hate that I almost did.”

“Bitch, I’m the one who saw you get shot.” Vanessa has no conviction when she says it because her heart is soaring - Brooke doesn’t want to be done, she cares about her, and yes maybe Vanessa already knew that but hearing it out loud? Makes all the difference.

The reminder of two days ago (has it really been two days since the cabin?) makes Vanessa bite her lip. “I nearly fucking lost it on the paramedics, you know. Thought they were taking too long, thought they wouldn’t be able to save you. I thought I was losing you and it was going to make me lose my mind.”

She doesn’t want to think about it. What if it had happened? What if Brooke had died underneath her, a pool of blood staining her shirt and had never opened her eyes again? What if she’d have to go back to the campaign trail and pretend that everything was okay, and she didn’t just lose someone who had very quickly become the most important person in her life?

She hates the thought.

Brooke’s hand is on hers, eyes searching her face. “I know the feeling. And I’m here, I’m okay. And you won’t lose me - not if you don’t want to.”

The words lift the heaviness in Vanessa’s heart, a little. She squeezes Brooke’s hand. “I want you and your murdering ass around. Though you may have to find a new career path.”

Brooke lets out a snort. “I’ll go on Indeed as soon as I’m out of the hospital.”

“But yeah, I’m serious. I’m staying here again tonight. Not because of obligation, but because I want to. As long as you’re okay with me curling up on this chair beside you.” Vanessa keeps her voice hopeful.

Brooke pats her bed. “Not feeling confident about climbing back in here, huh?”

“Are you kidding? And get chewed out by Asia again? No thank you. Though maybe you can convince me, somehow.”

Brooke rolls her eyes at Vanessa’s obvious flirtation. “You have to wait until I’m not in a hospital bed anymore, Ness.”

Vanessa shrugs. “Hey, it was worth a shot.” She leans over and places a kiss on Brooke’s forehead nonetheless, feeling the warmth in her heart begin to grow when Brooke’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

“There will be time for more of that after, I promise.” Brooke smiles at her. “We’ll make time, even though we won’t be in a little cabin anymore.”

The promise is there now between the two of them, and it settles some of the worries that have been floating around in Vanessa’s chest (ones that she paid less attention to during the past day, concerns about Brooke’s immediate safety more prominent). It’s nice. Brooke’s willing to make it work, give it a try.

They could make it happen. Vanessa has no idea what it’ll look like, how her campaign and publicity will affect their dynamic, but she doesn’t care right now.

They’re gonna have a future. A real future.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #holtzmanns #game of survival

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