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[first-pass]

I know he was sedated, but to me he died right then. Because that's not what he looks like when he's asleep.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss It Better

Curly (mouthwashing) x reader

AN: No one asked for this but CURLY DESERVED BETTER-!

Sum: You were taking care of Curly, your partner, when you just had to ask him a question that was burning you as much alive as the cockpit burned him. Did he actually crash the ship?

Warnings: 18+, gore, medical situations, Jimmy, violence, just mouthwashing in general, ablism, lots of medical stuff (from someone that knows way to much about medical shit because of being in and out of the hospital all her life)

“Morning honey.” You would force yourself to smile. You had to. You had to for him. To give him hope like he always gave you. To be a little bit of real sunshine through the day. Just wanted to take care of him. Give Anya some kind of break.

A wheeze was your greeting.

Wasn’t like it was his fault. He couldn’t really speak right now. You wondered if he would ever speak again. You would miss his voice but it’s worth it for him to live. He will live, you knew he would. You would make sure of it.

“Let’s have a look at you.” You would grab the clipboard that Anya left for you and took a look over. The small little list to help you understand how to care for his issues. When to wash him, what time his medications were, whatever routine was needed for that day. Was your Bible so to speak. You followed it to the last ink splotch.

“Your bandages don’t look to need to be changed yet, your IV bag needs to be changed, I’ll check your catheter, and yada yada yada. Wanna try and swallow today? Maybe if you can swallow some water I can grind up the pain pills into powder for you. Wanna try?”

He gave two distinct blinks for yes.

“Wonderful. Let me do this routine, so you can mentally prepare.” You would explain, as you went to slip on the latex gloves. Didn’t want to risk transferring some kind of infection. He’s already fighting for his life as it is. No need to make it harder.

You would first change out his IV bag, since he needed to stay as hydrated and fed nutrients as possible, before working on the awkward catheter. Luckily Anya made it very easy to use. She had opted for a condom catheter since she didn’t want to put himself at anymore risk to infections, and pain, as possible. Seemed the trauma made it rather impossible to control his bowls anyway so it worked out. All you had to do was drain the bag, wash it, and reattach it to the side of the table. Wasn’t like he was going to be moving around much anyway.

“So Daisuke was showing me his gameboy. Teaching me about how the lore works and all that. I really had no idea what he was talking about, but it’s better than Swansea snoring.” You laughed, and did your best to keep yourself peppy. To help Curly feel somewhat involved with society. To not just be trapped in the med bay alone. Daisuke and Swansea would visit, and Anya did what she could medically, but sometimes you just need someone to talk to.

“Think it’s a rouge like game. That’s nice. Helps keep you entertained with wanting to break through more and more dungeons in one session.” You rambled, before reattaching the bag. Had you sigh in relief to see you didn’t mess up the chord. Some urine had already started to fill the bag. Must have been triggered by the new IV. Good good. Everything was correct.

“You ready?” You asked, as this was always the hardest part. Getting medication in him. Anya would do her best but you couldn’t blame her for struggling. It’s such a mental tax to try and take care of someone but it results in more pain. You were willing to take that burden. You were his partner after all. You felt it’s only fair you take care of him. Gave Anya some breathing room to actually care for herself. She deserved to take care of herself to.

With two clear blinks you would get to work.

You would slip your hand under his back, and forced him to sit up. He groaned in pain, and tried his best to keep his head upright, as you two tried to work together. To survive this. To try and fight through.

“You are doing so well.” You reassured, as your brought the water bottle up to his open mouth. He was able to let his head hang back, and did what he could to open his throat. Was awkward, but he managed to do it. He took a proper swallow of water. You could hardly hide your excitement.

“You did it! Oh my god you did it!” You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. It hurt, of course, but he very much felt it was worth it. He had his own pride in being able to do some kind of basic human function again.

You would lay him back down, and was quick to grind up medication to put in the water bottle. You couldn’t wait to tell Anya his progress. You were positive the rest of the crew would be happy to hear the progress.

Well…..Most of the crew.

You used your anger towards Jimmy to help you grind the pain killers into powder. Oh how you hated him. You knew deep down he was responsible for the crash. You knew he was. You weren’t sure why he would be, but you just knew that Curly would never. If he had to, for whatever reason, he would have come on to the intercom to inform everyone to prepare for a crash. He would have done something. Anything.

What purpose would there be in crashing the ship?

Jimmy was his copilot. He would be the only other person to have access to the cockpit. He had to have been involved somehow. There had to have been something going on. You just knew it.

You just wish you had proof.

You sighed, as you would shake up the powder in the bottle. Made sure it was fully dissolved to avoid any issues with it going down his throat.

You just couldn’t understand.

Why would Jimmy crash the ship?

You would return back to curly, and do the same routine again. Slow, and small, drips into his throat. Would take a while, and would make your arm beg for death, but this would make life easier for Curly. That’s all that mattered. A arm cramp is worth it to help Curly survive.

“Curly…..Since you are more lucid now I….I just gotta ask something.”

The way his eye darted towards you said he knew what you were going to ask. Knew that it’ll be asked. He knew, and he couldn’t help but try and look towards the door. As if afraid someone would walk in.

That had you very concerned.

“…..Jimmy crashed the ship, didn’t he?” You whispered. Tried to be as hush as possible, in case someone did overhear. Was just the slow drips of the water into his dry mouth, and you.

One blink.

Two blinks.

“I fucking knew it.” You gritted your teeth, as you felt stupid to ever even have the slightest doubt that any possible reality there would be that Curly would do such a thing.

“I wish I could ask you why. Do…Do you know why?” You had to ask. You just needed to know. Know if Jimmy was as dangerous as you thought.

One blink.

T-

“How’s the captain doing?”

You would turn your head sharply, and saw Jimmy. Just standing there. God you were terrified how long he had been there. Did he hear what you asked? Didn’t seem so. Jimmy was a very aggressive person. He snapped at the slightest tone shift. If he heard you ask a question like that you wouldn’t be talking now.

“He’s….Alive.” You were caught rather off guard. You didn’t know what to say. You were scared of him. You had to be brave, though. You had a better chance at defending yourself. Curly couldn’t.

You would hear his heavy foot steps come closer, and out right feel his body heat against yours. Just looking over your shoulder. Was like this burning shadow over you. Made you feel like you’ll be squashed like a bug.

“Has he been able to talk yet?”

That’s a weird question to ask. Why not ask how he’s feeling, what progress he’s made, how his vitals are. Why is him talking on the front of his mind?

Because Curly knew something he shouldn’t.

“No. I think he’s lost his voice for good. I don’t think he’s ever going to speak again.” You lied, as you finished the test of the bottle. Returned your partner back on the table, and spun around. Nose to chest to the man. Had you terrified, but you must be brave. For Curly.

“Damn. Rough for him. No more barking orders, huh?” Jimmy tried to joke, but you could only give an awkward laugh at. Mostly to keep from pissing him off.

If he’s willing to crash a ship what else is he willing to do?

“Did you need something?” You managed to force out, as you grabbed the clipboard. Just trying to find an excuse to not look directly at Jimmy. To have a motive as to why you would stay in the med bay longer than most. Just anything to get Jimmy to leave you two alone.

“Hey, I give a shit to about him. Is it criminal to care about my friend?” He snapped at you, and it made you grab your clipboard tighter. You swore he seemed to smirk at seeing you so startled. Like he got off to the idea that he got the captains sweetheart scared.

That he’s the new boss.

“Never said that. You are the co pilot and new captain. You-“ “Pilot now. As if he’s ever going to steer a ship again. Not even a wheelchair with those stumps.” He snorted, as you wanted to smack him across the face.

“Yes….As the new Pilot and Captain I would figure you would be swamped in work. Like finding a way for us to contact help. Kinda the biggest priority after Curly. Anya and I are busy with him. You, Daisuke, and Swansea can handle the rest.”

You noticed how he seemed to roll his eyes about Anya. As if he couldn’t care less about the woman. Made you curious on what kind of beef he would have with her. She’s Anya! Who hated her?

“Yeah. Guess you are right there.” He muttered, as if it was never on his mind. Never an option that they could escape. Oh how you were getting chills.

“Keep on trucken then. Take care of our Captain Cripple. His ass needs all the help his stumpy limbs can get.” He would give him a once over, before looking at you. You made sure to keep your eyes to the clipboard instead. All you did was nod in acknowledgment, before he left.

“What are we going to do, Curly?” You sighed, as you would just lay next to him in defeat. What can you do? You had no idea. Curly was always such a good captain. Made you regret never paying more attention to how he worked the cock pit. Maybe if you did you could be more useful.

As you were full of worry and regret, Curly would weakly try and turn his head. Naked teeth were against his cheek. A attempt to kiss your cheek the best he could.

You smiled at the gesture, and made sure to be careful with snuggling your face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, and you got me. We can do this. I know it.” You reassured you both, as you closed your eyes. There to wait until his pain medication kicked in, so he could sleep.

As you relaxed, you couldn’t help but swear something was strange about his breathing.

It was like….He was saying words.

You would focus as hard as you could on your ears, as he would drift in and out of his buzzed state. Fighting to stay awake, but sleep coming for him.

“A….a…n…ya…..Kn….ows……”

Part 2

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)

The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...

gif is not mine (found it on google)

"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"

„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 

Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 

It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 

„Oh, House and me?“

„(Y/N) and me?“ 

„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 

„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 

Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 

„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 

„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 

„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 

House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 

„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.

„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 

„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 

„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 

„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.

„(Y/N)?“  

Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 

„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 

„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.

Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 

„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 

„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 

„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 

„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 

„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 

Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 

„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 

Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.

The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 

„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 

„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 

„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 

„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 

"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.

„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.

„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.

„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 

„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 

The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 

„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.

„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 

„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 

„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 

„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.

„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 

„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 

„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 

„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  

„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.

„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 

„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 

Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 

But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 

„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.

„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.

„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.

„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 

„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.

„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 

„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.

„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.

„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“

Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.

„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.

„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 

„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 

„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 

„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.

„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.

„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.

„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 

„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 

„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 

You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 

„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.

„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“

You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 

After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 

„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.

 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?

„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 

„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 

„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 

„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 

After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.

„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.

„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  

„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 

„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 

„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.

„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.

„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.

„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 

„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.

„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.

„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 

„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 

„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.

„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 

„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.

„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 

„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.

„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.

„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.

„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 

„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 

„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“

You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 

„Okay, Greg.“ 

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’m genuinely surprised how much I love nursing. Every shift, I get to meet and help so many people. I’m float pool so I go to the whole hospital, but I’ve also been floating for a while so everywhere is familiar. Sometimes it’s hard for me to walk through the hospital because I know so many people I pass, and we keep stopping to chat. I float to seventeen different units. That’s crazy! I know so much about the hospital! Every night I’m somewhere else, working with a different team and a different group of patients. The constant novelty and familiarity of floating is delicious.

And I love my patients! I know this all sounds so goody two shoes, but I love that I get to help so many people in so many ways. I only get them for one night, so I try to give them my best. I love tucking people in with warm blankets, I love explaining what I’m assessing to a patient with a new diagnosis, I love having heart to hearts with patients at three am when they can’t sleep, I love making people hurt less and stop throwing up. And you can be a real scamp about it. I love stealing snacks from other floors. I love when a patient is like “god I’d love some chocolate” and I get to be like “sir I know the location of every candy drawer in the hospital, I can get you some chocolate.” Or like figuring out like a cheat code for alleviating symptoms. When someone’s like “wow this heating pack rules” and then falls asleep instantly? It feels good and it’s fun. I have a lot of fun figuring out how to cheer up my patients in minor little stupid ways.

I never have to wonder if my job contributes value to the world. When I go home at the end of my shift, I can always think of something I did that makes me feel proud. That rules! It’s so fun to be proud of yourself! It’s so fun to know that what you do matters and that you are doing it well. And if I don’t feel proud, I have a drive home to think about why and I get a chance to do better next shift. And that’s good too. There are nights where I can feel the way I let someone down, and I have to sit with that, and I have to learn from it.

(And I don’t want to sound like I’m crushing it always super-nurse style, like I’m completely immune to ableism and the other -isms, or that I’m never lazy or callous or checked out. I’m new and I’m learning and I’m human and I’m tired and I’m not always living up to the person I hope to be. But I do get a lot of opportunities to make up for it and try again. That feels good.)

And I love teaching new nurses! I love having to constantly keep studying so I can be in a position to teach anyone anything. I love watching people get better at stuff. And I love that as I’ve gotten more confident as a nurse and a person who trains new nurses that I’ve started coaching more and more on the soft skills of nurses. Those are really hard! We should get as much practice with therapeutic communication as we do with Foley catheters!

Also where I work pays good, and I’ve got great job security, dude, I can buy so many stupid little trinkets. I was so nervous when I decided to go to nursing school that I was fucking up my life and other people’s plans for a job I wouldn’t even end up liking. I’d literally never worked something remotely close to healthcare when I decided to go to nursing school. I’d been in a hospital like once. I feel like this big life change shouldn’t have worked out nearly as well as it has, but hey it’s really fuckin cool it did

[fairy-writes]

hallo >:]

i would like to request the prompt :

“Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!”

for narumi gen from kaiju no.8

and any gender would be fine!

A LONG ROAD TO RECOVERY

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!”

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Angst, Hospitals, Injuries, Minor Arguments

Notes: Combining this with another request that is exactly the same :)

This is likely medically inaccurate, but pls bear with me.

__________________________________________________________________________

The beeping of hospital machines was driving you up the wall. But it also brought you solace in that it showed that the man you loved was still alive. 

It had been three days since he slipped into a coma. 

You sat beside him the entire time, holding Gen’s hand as the ventilator breathed for him. His army of machines did a variety of things. Things like the ventilator, which inflated his lungs. He had a chest tube placed to drain fluid building around his lungs. There was a catheter to drain his bladder. There were multitudes of other machines and devices, all to help Gen stay alive. 

But no one knew when he’d wake up.

If he’d even wake up.

A frantic beeping awoke you from your doze. 

When did you fall asleep?

You look up at the machines and barely have time to comprehend the sight of his heart monitor lit up in a frenzy. 

It’s flatlining. 

Gen is dying. 

You let out a cry and dive for the blue button next to his bed, slamming your thumb onto it and hearing the call for a “Code Blue in room G342. Code Blue in room G343” just outside in the hall. A flood of nurses and doctors come in, and you are pushed out.

“Please! You have to save him!” You beg, and a nurse you vaguely recognize from seeing in the hallways offers a kind smile.

“We’ll do everything we can. But you need to stand back and let us work.” She says quickly before Gen’s hospital room door slides shut behind her.

You are forced to wait in the waiting room as Gen is wheeled in for emergency surgery after they get his heartbeat back.

They didn’t say what it was for—maybe they did—but you had signed the necessary forms regardless, seeing as you were Gen’s significant other and he had no other family.

You sit with your head in your hands, your breathing quick and gasping and panicky as you wait for any sort of news from the medical staff working to save his life. As you sit there, you can’t help but wish he hadn’t been called in for the most recent kaiju attack. Because while yes, he vanquished the monster, it left him in this sort of state.

He was going to get an earful when he woke up.

If he woke up, that is…

Your name being called snaps you from your reverie. You had been zoning out, not thinking about anything but what you were going to say to Gen if he ever recovered. But as you jolted out of your thoughts, you checked the clock and realized that hours had passed. No one was in the waiting room except you and a nurse behind the receptionist's desk, who looked like he wanted to go home. 

Well… you two and the doctor you recognized as the man who had wheeled the crash cart into the room when Gen was actively coding. 

You were on your feet in seconds before you even registered standing up. 

“How is he?” You demanded when the doctor approached. He gestured for you to follow him, 

“We’ll talk on the way. But he’s asking for you.” 

He was asking for you.

So he was alive?

Your knees felt weak, and you actually caught yourself on the wall. 

“So he’s alive?” You whisper, and the doctor gives you a warm smile. 

“He’s a fighter, that’s for sure. Now, follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

Gen is already awake and sitting up in bed when you get to the hospital room. A flurry of nurses flit around him like a bunch of buzzing bees. But he isn’t watching any of them. 

No… Gen’s eyes are locked on yours the second you come into view. 

The doctor begins to speak, telling you about the surgery, but you don’t hear him. All you hear is muffled speaking, almost as if he’s talking through cotton. It’s like this for a few moments until you come back to the present and hear, 

“I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery.” The doctor says, and you feel the pricks of tears in your eyes. 

He was alive. 

He was going to be okay. 

You all but yank the door open and slip inside as the nurses and medical personnel file out of the room to give you two some privacy. But as soon as the door shuts, it’s as if all the strength in your knees has left you again, and you all but collapse on the side of his bed, reaching to grasp his hand. You’re mindful of the IV in the back of his hand as you cradle his palm in both hands. He arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything just yet. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, and he shrugs with one shoulder, settling back into his mountain of pillows. 

“‘m fine.” He mumbles with a yawn.

“Is there anything I can do for you?’ You press, and he shakes his head, 

“Not unless you’ll get me one of my games. The doc won’t let me have my phone just yet.” He complains, and you hang your head with a dry chuckle.

Of course, he wants one of his games. You wouldn’t expect anything different from your boyfriend. 

“If the doctor says no, I’m going to listen to him.” You say, and he immediately lets out a whine. But before he can complain, you cut him off, “Gen, you need to take it easy. Getting worked up over video games isn’t going to help.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs his hand from yours to cross his arms across his chest, huffing indignantly, and you realize this is going nowhere. But that still didn’t mean your anger rose any less. In fact, it actively pulsed within your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you scowled. 

He noticed, and his eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t often you actively showed your anger. 

“What has you freaking out? I didn’t die, did I?” He asks, and you glare, 

“You coded Gen. Your heart stopped.” 

“But they got it back! Stop freaking out, seriously, it’s gonna give me a headache.”

“Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!” You borderline shout, and he rolls his eyes. 

Gen gives you an impish, boyish grin despite your fury, the kind he gives you when he beats you at a video game or successfully kills a kaiju. He works his hand over so he can entwine his fingers with yours. You can feel your anger melting away as he speaks. 

“You can’t kill me that easily.”

[xo-cod]

O.M.G! I love COD and Garcia from Criminal Minds (she’s my fashion inspo!) so you combine both, I’m on cloud nine!

Remember that episode/s where she got shot by an ‘Angel of Death’ unsub because he thought he was catching on to his crimes and tried/tries to kill her after taking her out on a date?

Well, imagine that happens to Penelope! Reader.

they'd take it so hard :( this can be read platonically/romantically i don't really know anymore LMAO 🤍

posted it again because i didn't like the way the first one looked <3 ooc/rushed!

part two

》》》 after the shooting 《《《

ghost was silent as his knee bounced while he waited for you to wake up, the room silent other than the beeping letting them know you were alive. and the occasional humming from soap who softly toyed with your hair, his fingers gently caressing against your cheek very tenderly. it had been like this for hours until heavy footsteps echoed through the corridors, letting them know the rest of the team were back

"got the bastard back at base" price spoke as he came back into the room with gaz. simon and johnny weren't to be trusted not to kill the man since they needed him alive so they both remained like glue, stuck to your bedside. even when one of the nurses tried to suggest to leave for a few hours to freshen up, ghost shot her a hard stare which made her back off in the same breath.

"she awake yet?" gaz was next, his voice gentle while ghost shook his head. his jaw clenched as his hands gripped the arm rest on the chair. seeing your state, seeing how vulnerable you were, seeing you dance upon the line of life and death and he couldn't do a thing.

"told her not to go on that bloody date. look at 'er now" simon's voice was harsh, angry at himself for not being able to protect you. hell, they weren't even the first on scene. your neighbours had heard the shot and worriedly called the ambulance.

"s'not her fault lt, she didn't know" soap spoke coming to your defence, his hand still cradling your palm in-between his big warm ones.

"christ's sake johnny, she got shot at!" ghost snapped, his brown eyes narrowing at the scot who sighed as he looked back down at you.

you were both the heart and brains of the 141, your intelligent analytical skills saving them more times than they could count but you were always so humble about it. you hadn't looked so frail before, gone were your pretty clothes and your little jewellery pieces. all you had on was a sickly hospital gown, catheters placed in different parts of your body accompanied with a breathing mask over your mouth

"how's the wound?" price interjected, removing his bucket hat as he came closer to the bed. his heart went out to the youngest of the team, it was never easy to see the sight of his soldiers injured and beaten down. it was especially never easy to see his soldiers laying cold on a bed, knowing their attacker was out and about

"she flatlined, messy wound. but one centimeter over and it would've torn right through her heart" soap spoke looking at price who nodded slowly as he came to the side of the hospital bed.

"a fighter" his voice was gentle, his thumb sweeping the apples of your cheeks ever so softly. silent for a moment as he glanced down at you, missing all the little eccentric pieces that made you you. but, you weren't dead. you'd be fine, he knew that. it didn't take the sting of not being able to prevent it any easier but you were a soldier, a capable one at that. you were fine, you were going to be okay

for now, they were to tend to pressing matters that lay for them back in base. and notably, none of them were going to be gentle about it. time was ticking, the quicker they dealt with the matter at hand the faster they'd be back to you again.

"take it easy, pretty. we'll be back soon" price bent down and whispered, his fingers fondly running through your hair before he straightened up with a swift nod and headed out the door to the car

"you're gonna be just fine, mama. i promise you" gaz whispered as he kissed your temple tenderly before leaning back, his eyes hardening as he remembered who put you in this position. the fear and pain you felt and they hadn't been anywhere close to you.

even if you were capable, even if you were one of the most intelligent soldiers on their team, you were the youngest. and each of them had taken you under this wing. someone had messed with you and subsequently, messed with them all collectively. he took a soft breath in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your palm careful not to knock over the drips before he followed suit like price.

"when i come back, those pretty eyes of yours better be awake bonnie" johnny chuckled sadly, his thumb drifting over the bandage wrapped around your chest as he sighed softly looking back to your sleeping face again. he kissed your cheek hesitantly, too nervous to knock over the breathing mask.

he hated seeing you like this. you had grown to be one of his closest friends here and the fact that he couldn't protect you as well as he thought took a hit on him. soap had always taken things a little harder when it came to you, he couldn't wait to tear the bastard that had messed with you. he stiffened back up and followed the rest of his team out, one last lingering look before he left.

and then ghost eyed you, his brown eyes narrowing a little at your body. you were still, too still for his liking. and though he knew you were alive, he couldn't help but the rise of slight panic at the thought of you dead. it was irrational, he knew, but it happened to him before. being forced into a position he thought could never happen to him and then it did, his worst nightmare a living reality. but he'd be damned if he couldn't do everything in his power to protect you from the same fate.

"i'll be back, lovie. i'll make the sorry bastard pay for what he's done to you," his tone was cold, hard, determined.

"you'll be okay" a soft murmur, the reminder mostly for himself and to calm those nerves. he pulled his balaclava up a little to reveal his scarred lips as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. his fingers gently rubbing your skin, head leaning against your temple very slightly but still enough to feel you. to feel you alive and breathing, knowing that you were here and that you were going to be okay. a minute passed before he straightened himself up and looked at you with a nod.

leaving your hospital room with a new goal in his mind, to make the man pay for everything he ever did.

[lovebillyhargrove]

Billy opens his eyes in September 1985, in Hawkins hospital, and he's not happy to be alive. If you asked him, he would've preferred to stay dead or — unfortunately he never was dead — in a coma. Lying in bed like a withering away vegetable, blissfully unaware of his own existence or non-existence.

Gods have not been that merciful. Hargrove wakes up and doesn't even know his own body anymore. He needs to learn everything anew, starting with walking, or eating usual food — like an 18-year-old baby, for fuck's sake.

He's also bitter at everyone — yeah, for not fucking telling him !!

Except for Neil. Neil gets another kind of bitterness — quieter, darker, drowned in neverending pain.

Max gets a

"Fuck off, Maxine and shut the damn door." Said to the wall.

The gang of monster-hunters aren't even allowed to take a peek at her angry (and "that dude is so badass") brother.

Owens gets a

"Just leave me alone, Doc. I'm clean, and don't give a fuck about conquering the world anymore. Wasn't able to take a piss without a catheter until recently. I've got problems of a different level to deal with now."

When Steve opens the door to Billy's room, he actually gets talked to.

"Billy? .. Can I come in? .. Hey .. Hi."

Hargrove doesn't look like himself. He's too skinny, un-tanned, has some kind of a scanty beard, even longer hair, and looks like Jesus Christ.

Steve still can't believe it's happening. To come back to life after what Billy's been through? Impossible.

Maybe they put a dummy in the hospital bed.

The dummy opens its eyes, reluctantly turns its head towards Harrington, who is still hovering over the threshold, and doesn't say a word.

"How ..?" Steve's clearing his throat, cause sounds suddenly get stuck in it. "How are you .. feeling?"

The mannequin, who is probably Billy after all, blinks sadly and curls his lips

"Awesome, amigo."

Whew, damn, he's talking.

"Does .. does anything hurt?"

The guy looks at him like he's the dumbest idiot

"My ass hurts. I've been lying here for so long, I don't even know anymore if I have one or not."

Harrington wants to giggle, but that would sound extremely impolite.

He bites his lower lip.

"You look good."

Billy grins maliciously, and Steve is still shifting from foot to foot

"You're.." What's wrong with him?

"Listen, you're.."

"Get out."

"Uhm .. what?"

"You think you're so .. nice? Paying a visit to a poor sick guy? Why? To be a good fucking person? Get the fuck out of here."

"A good .. what?!" Steve tries to move closer to the bed but .. that's definitely stupid. He just feels like a ridiculous scarecrow in the field, with his ears burning

"That's not .. Hargrove. I actually .."

"Fuck you. I don't need you to come here."

"Okay, just .."

"Get lost!" Billy raises his voice

"Can I .."

"NURSE !!"

God.

"Alright! Get better!"

Asshole. Steve slams the door.

***

Three days later, he again tries to visit the boy who is definitely a nobody to him, and Billy again refuses to see him.

You know what, this is just too much ..! Silly games in the sandbox.

As if they weren't two reasonable adults. As if Steve hadn't watched Hargrove die horrifically, and as if he hadn't accompanied him to the hospital in the ambulance that night. Well, he himself was pretty beaten up, and needed a ride to the hospital, so it was kinda .. on the way, but still.

He sort of cared.

Was worried sick, to be honest.

And, listen, Steve generally doesn't take rejection well when he cares about something. Someone.

He's also sure of one thing — water wears the stone away.

So Steve shows up at the hospital again. Just to remind Billy of his existence, hang around the hallway, and when the door opens, give him a deliberately friendly smile and a wave of his hand.

Maybe he's here not to see Hargrove at all, he's got other stuff to do. Maybe he was just passing room number eight by accident.

Harrington is amused at Billy's face every time the guy catches a glimpse of Steve in his vicinity.

The patient either switches on complete indifference and sits there with a pompous ass face, as if they don't even know each other, or hisses like a pissed off cat.

Or he conspiratorially whispers something to the nurse when Harrington peers through the half-closed door — most likely asking her not to let Steve into the room under any circumstances.

But the former king didn't fall off the banana truck either. He has his own ways of influencing others — and begs nurse Miller, who seems to him more compassionate than nurse Fieldstone, to pass Hargrove a note

Dude, talk to me.

Steve turns to Max with a request — to collect some tapes from her brother's room, Metallica, Scorpions, Ratt, Mötley Crüe and his other favorite bands,

And asks Mrs. Miller to give them to the moody patient along with an expensive new Sony cassette player, which Harrington bought yesterday on Main Street.

The next day the player is waiting for Steve at the reception — Billy refused to accept the gift, but Harrington does not give in.

"Could you please put it in the drawer of the bedside table, preferably when he is asleep?"

The plan seems to have worked, at least the player is no longer returned. The guy must be climbing walls from hospital boredom.

One day Harrington gets lucky — he's going up to the second floor and bumps into Hargrove, who is being wheeled somewhere in a chair

"Oh, hi! Hello, Mrs. Miller!"

The nurse nods to him. Billy will not make a scene in front of all people, so he reluctantly grits out through his teeth

"Hi."

"How are you?"

"Great."

Steve notices Billy's cheeks turning pink, and the boy is hiding his eyes — he's obviously not very happy that they met like that, when he is in such a helpless state, for Hargrove has always been the machiest macho, hated any manifestation of weakness. And here he is — in a wheelchair.

"Where are you going?"

The guy's patience snaps loose

"Fuck off, will you?"

Well, let's not tempt the fate too hard.

"Have a nice day, Billy!" Steve is impeccably polite, unlike the frowning patient. However, was that not a whole conversation?

Harrington definitely calls it progress.

..

One wonderful autumn day, Steve decides to take an ultimate risk. He is in great mood, and he wants to share it.

Harrington swerves through the streets, listening to the radio while driving, a soft smile playing on his lips. On the way to the hospital, he stops at the "Hawkins Bloom" flower shop and buys a bouquet. Whether it's chrysanthemums or dahlias, he doesn't know.

"What kind of flowers does your girlfriend prefer? Here's a beautiful autumn combination .."

"That's not for a girlfriend. It's uh .. for a friend .. he's in hospital? Something more modest, perhaps? But tasteful. Not cheap."

He feels like he's making excuses

Why the hell ..?

Jesus.

Billy definitely won't like this idea, but Steve's gonna do it anyways.

Cause he feels like it. That's valid enough.

So Steve buys the flowers and brings them to the room. He enters brazenly, without asking permission, puts them on the nightstand and moves it away from the bed — so that Billy cannot reach the bouquet and throw it at the visitor.

Oh, and let Hargrove puff, huff and even chuckle stupidly a couple of times as much as he wants — nothing escapes Steve's attentive eyes — blushing and demanding

"Take away these ugly fucking twigs! Are you out of your fucking mind, Harrington?"

Also, threatening him with physical violence

"I would so whip your ass with it, honestly."

Now that's an interesting offer, now we're talking

Harrington only winks at him, smiles

"Get well, okay?"

And rushes out of the room.

..

Like hardest ice under the persistent heat of the bright spring sun, Hargrove has no choice but to start thawing off, little by little.

One day, Steve arrives at the hospital during reception hours, pokes his head into room number eight

"So how are you? Maybe we should talk?"

Hargrove defiantly rolls his eyes and sighs as though he's so hopelessly tired

"You're such a fucking pain in the ass."

Steve shrugs.

"We are broken up anyway, even though we weren't even together for real, Harrington. Never. For the record. So don't get too carried away."

Billy keeps on grumbling

"You think you brought flowers, gifts, notes, so what? I'm not your chick, for fuck's sake!"

"Well, can we be friends?"

"Nah."

That's fine. He'll come around.

Oh, and did Steve forget to mention they did hook up before all the Mindflayer business went down? Must've slipped his mind in all the commotion.

[kamyru]

Attack on Titan characters as doctors from different medical fields (Headcanons)

Author's note: Some lore about me - I'm a 5th year med student and went on a few international exchanges. However, don't take everything in here too serious. It's just to make fun of the stereotypes.

Levi Ackerman = Emergency medicine

You know the type of emergency medicine that the other doctors are complaining about because it's not efficient at all and tries to get rid of the responsibility as fast as possible? Forget it, it's not about Levi.

He looks like he will yell at you if you go to the emergency at 3 in the morning because you ate an expired pastry three days ago. But, in reality, he will tell everyone that no person wants to go at 3 AM to a hospital for their own pleasure. With very rare exceptions.

And regarding this exceptions, he has no tolerance with them.

If anyone has a problem with a rowdy patient, they'll call Levi to intimidate them.

He is also the one to help the nurses when a patient is getting aggressive.

And Levi also respects the entire personnel and is the mediator in the team when the chief doctor is not getting along with the chief nurse.

When the nurses are full with taking analysis and everything, he can do it himself without three free trials of poking the patient's vein.

He is prepared for all type of emergencies and even more. Urban, mountains, catastrophes, war. EVERYTHING, you name it.

If the shift is calm, Levi is willing to listen to the old patients stories. And everyone is in awe how calm he can be with that one-hundred-year-old grandpa who doesn't know what silence it.

And his personal life? There are thousands of rumors regarding him sleeping with the nurses, students, and whoever else, but none of them are true. He is just a workaholic.

Mikasa Ackerman = Urology

Your local #womeninmenfields

Can't pee? Ask Mikasa. Need a kidney extraction? Ask Mikasa. Have an emergency? Ask Mikasa.

Hates emergency doctors because they say that more than half of the abdominal pains, and most of the flank pains are from urological diseases. And they would have been right, if they made an ultrasound or some blood analysis first.

Though, she respects Levi because he knows that a patient with no kidney on the right flank won't accuse kidney pain there. (True case from my urology practice, where the professor was called in the emergency to diagnose a kidney stone in a patient that was born without a kidney on that part.)

When men find out that she is an urologist, they either run away, or try to impress her. She is not impressed. She doesn't care. She has seen enough.

Has some beef with the cardiologists that want every single patient to have a Foley catheter. Tries to educate them regarding the risks of infections. Has to be stopped by others from punching them after they don't understand.

Is sick of answering why she chose urology and not ob-gyn.

Doesn't laugh at Eren's jokes about her being a "cock doctor".

Eren Jaeger = Psychiatry

He once asked himself if it is nature or nurture and boom!, he woke up in the psychiatric ward as a doctor.

Probably at some point even worked in a prison, but gave up after a few years because it was too much.

Armin tries to teach him to read and ECG every half a year, and two weeks after the lessons, he forgets it.

However, he knows how to read and EEG, after hanging out with the neurologists too much time.

One of the few to laugh at Hange's jokes, because he has seen just as bad.

Is not often accused of malpractice, but often thinks about what can be called malpractice regarding his profession. And has some guilt because of this.

Is the type of doctor to tell others that if a person has hallucinations, it doesn't mean they can make fun of them or disconsider them.

Loves interacting with his patients way more than with their families.

One of the few to understand what a clinical pharmacologist is for. Moreover, he even works with them.

Can't watch movies or TV series in which a character is said to have a mental disease, because most of the times it's portrayed outrageous.

Armin Arlert = Immunology

When he talks, everything makes sense. But if you are not attentive for more than one minute, it will start to sound like an alien language.

Tells everyone he is doing what he is doing for his patients, but secretly dreams about winning a Nobel Prize. Thus, he starts all his first lessons at university with: "Immunology is the medical field with the most Nobel Prizes in the past years."

Is sick of explaining what is the difference between an autoinflammatory and an autoimmune disease. But he will. Even if he is asleep, he will explain it.

Friends with everyone, but everyone uses him as their daily paragraph guy regarding the news in the medical field.

Probably learned a few foreign languages to get access to more studies.

Thinks that immunology is very important, but will pass his students even if they are not the brightest because he knows how hard it is.

Probably got a barely passable grade during his immunology exam in med school too. But it made him fall in love with the subject even more. Also, it was the highest out of his entire class.

His CV is probably as big as a 200k enemies to lovers fanfic, if he puts all the studies he took part in.

His students love him because he is one of the few to actually try to integrate them in the research field.

Knows how to read an ECG because he thinks it's an important skill to call himself a doctor.

Jean Kirschtein = Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery

Of course, of course Jean is a plastic surgeon.

Plastic surgery is one of the few surgery fields that are popular among students.

Money, comfy life, money, probably a little bit more free time than other surgeons, money. And did I say money?

But you can't imagine the shock Jean had when he understood that plastic surgery has one of the highest risks of malpractice.

So, he sulked a little. But only till he understood how much he loved reconstructive surgery.

It's not tickling his ego so much, but it's still the same field.

All of us know that he is actually kinda soft inside. So, he has to be more of a reconstructive surgeons than a plastic surgeons.

He loves to make people better in their own skin and he will do everything possible for this.

But damn, he has an entire pack of super sad stories about how people ended up needing a reconstructive surgery.

After a few years in the field, he stopped being as happy and optimistic he was in the beginning, but he definitely is as enthusiastic. By the end of the day, he has a goal now, doesn't he?

Everyone thought he will retire pretty fast, or at least stop operating. But he found himself and would do it for as long as he can.

Hange Zoe = Forensic medicine

They didn't choose forensic medicine because it doesn't interact with people. They chose it because they genuinely loved it.

All the dark jokes that you ever thought about? They made it during their first years of residency. Now, their humor is not for the weak.

Likes to know what others can't see. Will explain to you how to understand if someone was killed or not.

It's impossible to make them gag now with any type of gore conversations.

Are you a true-crime lover? They are the true-crime. The amount of investigations they partook into is impressive.

They are also a professor and from time to time, the students complain about their humor.

Probably lost any type of belief in something bigger after seeing that dark of things. Or, if they still believe, they are not afraid of anything.

From time to time, fall into an apathetic state. Expectable. It's hard to make your rounds in the forensic department. Working there day to day is more than impressive and respectable.

Erwin Smith = Neurosurgery

"I want to become a neurosurgeon to understand how people work," he said and acquired a god complex.

Okay, I'm joking. Or not?

He is probably the work-husband of half of the psychiatrists because they hang out a lot, to discuss about how brain works. But he will never admit it, because he tell everyone he is all the time in the operating room.

Out of everyone, he is the closest to get a Nobel Prize, except the immunologists. But they don't really interact with each other, so he has never heard about them.

When he is not operating or hanging out with the psychiatrist, he is at international conferences.

And Erwin is also the type of the professor to keep his students over the lesson time, after half of them are already asleep because they don't understand a thing that he is teaching. Even if he tries his best.

No one knows it and it's a secret, but he actually visits the patients from the neurology. Especially the ones with degenerative diseases. He nearly cries every time, but he needs a reminder to know what he is working for.

He will, he definitely will, find all the secrets that the brain has. And will help everyone to stop their suffering.

Sasha Braus = Orthopedics

She's your local ortho-bro.

Another #womeninmenfields

Are you hungry and forgot to bring your lunch? Go to orthopedics, they, and more exactly, Sasha, will definitely have some snack for you.

Are you a sad med student that want to cry? It's okay, your local ortho-bro, or more exactly, ortho-sis will hug you in her big, buff hands, and check your scoliosis in the meantime.

She has beef only with neurosurgeons. But she is also one of the few doctors to get along with them. They fight from time to time during the back surgeries, but they know how to work together.

Also, don't make her mad. She can legally use hammers, saws, and a lot of not-very-medical-looking tools.

When she is not looking like a barbarian in the operation room, she eats while looking at the screen, trying to understand if the kid has a fracture or not in their growth plate.

Most probably doesn't know how to read an ECG, but knows how to transfer a menisci from a dead person to living person, and to make your grandparents walk again. So, isn't it just fantastic?

Keith Sadies = Clinical pharmacology

This guy is smart as hell.

And of course, he is also a professor. But you know what kind of professor? The one that everyone in the university knows about and gives you the wake-up call that you are in a med school.

He tells you to study 14 h a day and sleep max 7 h (real thing my pharmacology professor told us).

Only the toughest students passed his lesson from the first try.

But we are talking about him as a doctor, more than a professor. So, how is he as a doctor?

Actually, no one knows. People has seen him every now and then at the emergency department, or at the psychiatric ward. But no one knows what he actually does.

Fun fact, everyone wants to write their thesis with him, because he is so serious and will definitely help the students.

Makes jokes about what a double-blind study is. And they change regarding who is the listener: two surgeons reading an ECG, one dermatologist and one radiologist reading an ECG, two psychiatrists reading and ECG.

But does he know how to read and ECG? Probably, yes. He has to give medications for arrhythmia.

Also, this guy has the memory of an elephant. Even after years, he remembers his students and now that they are adults, he is not as scary as he used to be.

But still, no one has any idea what he does as a doctor.

Pieck Finger = Oral & maxillofacial surgery

It's not as if I met any O&MF surgeons yet, however...

Dentists and medical doctors are always fighting. But she, she is both of them.

She is one in a million. Only a few students a year choose this path because they need dual degree. So now, you understand what kind of tough pokemon is Pieck.

Most of the people don't even know she exists, but trust me, it's not as if she doesn't have patients.

Cancer, traumas, esthetics, say it and she knows how to treat it.

Pieck also probably dyes her hair every two weeks, because there's no way her hair didn't go half gray yet after she studied so much.

She is also the one with the best roasts regarding both parts of her degree. Are you a medical doctor? She knows how to press on your buttons to annoy you. Are you a dentist? She is ready to make fun of you not being enough of a doctor. What are you going to tell her, to go study more? She already did.

[alltubedandwiredup]

A short-ish fantasy story i wrote some time ago. Not self-insert and male protagonist. Medfet (+18)

i woke up to find myself sitting in what looked like a hospital room. i looked around in comfusion, only to find i was lying in a gynaecologal bed, and surrounding me i could see houndred different machines. someone approached me from behind, placing a reassuring hand in my forhead.

- hello darling, have you slept well???i hope you have, because today we start with your very special treatment

- im going to tell you how this is going to go, eric.

- mainly, we are going to connect you to these machines you see around you at the same time as we inject you with a new developed medication. it is going to be a long treatment im afraid, but im going to take care of you. your doctor did refer you to us as a critical case. now, ill explain you further as we go, does that sound right?

in that moment, two nurses came into the room and positiones themselves at the feet of my bed. the doctor then nodded

- eric, one requeriment of the treatment has been the removal of your hair since we needed to be able to properly wire you to the equipment. after this, she pressed a button and two big mirrors uncovered. one in the ceiling and one right in front of me. i cringed at my hairless sight. my head was bald, as well as my legs and… my groin. my balls and ass were the smoothest i could imagine. The nurses took some straps in my things and ankles tied me firmly to the bed, before the doctor pressed anothe button and my legs were being lifted into stirrups, leaving me comoletly exposed under the bright medical lights.

then, one of the nurses started doing strange marks all over my bald head, wich then she started to cover with dabs of gel

- we will need to have you constantly monitored in every way possible. these things here are to then attach 24 electrodes to your head. this way we will control your brain activity in every moment. We will do the same thing with your heart beats, the blood and oxygen in your blood, and your temperature

My other nurse started to attach more electrodes to my chest at the same time as the first one started to place the ones in my head. two went behind my ears, two behind my eyes, three on my forehead, two in my temples and the rest on my scalp. she finished with a last one in my chin before she started securing them with tape. i couldnt look away from the mirror, somehow this wired state aroused me deeply. once she finished, the other one had wrapped a preassure monitor on my arm, had placed a pulse oxymeter on my middle finger and sticked a temperature monitor to my head as well.

- now eric, this is when we connect you to the actual tratment. ill start with the IV tratment. you will feel slight pinches in your ball sac.

as she explained, i felt the first needle go in, at my right, the quickly came the second. the doctor took both of the cannulas hanging from two drips at my feet and connected them to the needles, before securing the needles and the tubes with tape.

- foley nurse.

i knew what was coming next. she took the bright orange tube of a catheter and lubed it, before aligning it to my urethral opening.

i did see the nurses sticking more electodes, this time smaller ones, in my lower abdomen, close to my dick, but i was too concentrated in the discomfort of a tube sliding into my little hole. when the catheter was all the way into my pisshole, the doctor connected it to a longer clrear tube and taped it to my leg. the doctor then took the rest of these electrodes and sticked them into my balls, in my thigs at both sides of my penis and around my anus. one nurse apeared in my frame of vision again, holding a series of tubes.

- now those are the last things eric, the anal probe, the nipple suctioning electrodes, the feeding tubes and the breathing apparatuses.

my nurse started sticking a long electrode under my nose, then the next one approached with two long tubes

- big breath darling- she said.

she started introducing it in my right nostril. at the same time, felt an enormous pleasure in my hole.

- oh eric you are very very tight, we need you to open… come on… open up… open that anus eric… come on, be a good patient and open .

i could feel as the doctor worked the probe into my virgin anus as the first feeding tube met and end. it was taped to my cheek as the nurse repeated the process tubing my left nostril… all wile the doctor kept working on my anus

- we need this for the tratment eric… just a bit more, you are doing soo soo good.

- cmon be a good boy… let it go in… good job

i finally felt my ass close around a smaller end at the same time the nurse approached me with a nasal cannula, placing it into my nose as well and around my head. finally the doctor looked at me happily as the nasal cannula was also taped to my cheeks.

- that was a good job. your little anus is so tight, hopefully it won’t be as much at the end of the treatment

one of the nurses inserted both my nipples into two tiny tubes connected to a machine next to me. the tubes sucked my nipples engording and trapping them.

- okay, i think now we can start. are you ready? now we will start giving you some sweet relaxing gas through that nasal cannula in your nose, just to keep you calmed throughout the treatment, you might feel sleepy. oh and i must warn you, you might obtain sexual stimulation during this. its okay, some patients do it. dont you feel ashamed. im going to leave now okay, but ill be watching you constantly. so you dont need to stress.

then everyone left the room and i was left with my reflection. i was covered head to toe in tubes and wires. i could see my bottom fully exposed and covered in a million tubes and wires: there were electrodes everywhere, the catheter tubing my urethra and two ivs connected to my balls. i realized that the thing in my ass was an electrified plug, with two wires coming out of it. i colud barely look at my reflection without cringing. i didnt recognice me under so many wires and tubes. my face was covered in tape securing every tube going into my nose. with tubes in every hole, i didnt look human, i was connected to so many machines i was a part of them

i felt when the devices turned on. it started by a tingling sensation in my balls, that extended through the rest of my goin. that tingle started to feel very pleasant soon, at the same time as i realized it was hard to focus my eyes. i gave up and let the gas drug me up as the pleasure kept building inside me. it didnt take long before i orgasmed, from there, i gradually lost awareness of the orgasms i kept having, feeling the pleasure as something far away.

i think i was in and out of conciousnes for a while before i heard the doctor come in. she came next to the bed and strocked my cheek, bypassing the tubes taped to it. i was so lost in the pleasure and the drugs that i failed to focus my eyes. so i just stared at her blankly, my head lolling to the side and drooling.

- doctor? i asked her weakly.

i think she laughed at this, and just kept strocking my wired head

- you are sooo drooly my darling

she said running a towel through my chin

- you are orgasming so much are you??… mmm thats right, keep going… this is going to help you eric…

- can you tell me where does it feel better? is it in your ass… or in your dick… or your balls… can you tell me eric?

i was completely unable to respond, not even to think were in my medicalized body i was feeling the biggest pleasure

- shhh its okay, you are very out of it are you?

a climax hit me in that moment, making me arch my feet and roll by eyes back, as a long moan of pleasure came our of my mouth. the doctor kept running a calming hand though my forehead

- uuuu look at you… the anal electrode is working you up so good, look at how your anus twitches around it, its fucking you with the electricity

there i felt her push slightly the electrode into my ass, making me moan as i bursted into pleasure from the slight movement.

- you like this little thing do you? wou had never had anything up your rectum right? off to a good stat i guess, my little patient.

- keep going… thats it… good job… is another orgasm coming baby? are you about to cum?… thats it, cum from the machines, good job

that’s the last thing i registered before loosing consciousness for the next hours

[writing-for-marvel]

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

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[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 22 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - I promise that despite what it seems, I am not turning this into an Ralvez fic no matter how much my brain tries to lead me in that direction. And despite how bleak things seem, I swear there will be a happy if not bitter sweet ending for Spencer and reader. This is really going off the deep end, huh?

Summary - Spencer struggles to tell the difference between reality and his imagination whilst trying to piece together what’s wrong with him. Luke receives a surprise visitor.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - heavy mentions of past rape, blood, spontaneous urination, catheterisation, sedation, swearing, Spencer’s really losing it, some uncomfortable medical talk, talk of dissociative identity disorder (DID), respiratory distress.

WC - 6k

Chapter 22 - If Tomorrow Never Comes

“Oh cariño, am I glad to see you.” 

For the next few minutes everything suddenly moved at rapid fire. One minute Luke was speaking, kissing Spencer’s dry knuckles and the next the man in the bed snapped and all hell broke loose. 

Spencer snatched his hand away from Luke’s hold, recoiling at the use of his pet name. In an instant it wasn’t Luke Alvez, his former love standing next to him, it was his rapist. 

They weren’t all that similar in looks but there were certainly similarities there, ones in which Spencer had never drawn on consciously, but subconsciously he must have seen it. 

They were both of Latin American heritage, dark hair and eyes with caramel complexions. But Luke wasn’t as thick and wide as his tormentor, not quite as tall either. Luke wasn’t tattooed like him and Luke’s accent was from the Bronx while the other man had a thick Spanish timbre. 

Really there wasn’t a need for him to equate the two, the similarities were so faint but they were there. And clearly he’d been pushing this thought beneath the surface all this time but now his subconscious had brought it to light there was no way to unsee it.

“Don’t call me that.” Spencer shook his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Don’t say that!” 

He reached for whatever was covering his mouth, yanking the oxygen mask off of his face and scrabbling to sit upright. 

“Spencer, you have to leave that on, you almost died, you can’t-” Luke reached forward but Spencer’s arms started thrashing wildly, smacking Luke away. 

“Don’t touch me!” He screamed. “Why are you here? Why are you always here?” 

“I don’t…I was worried about you cariño.” 

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” He yelled as loud as his ravaged lungs would allow, scratching at the IV in the crook of his arm. 

Before Luke could stop the inevitable, Spencer had yanked the needle from his vein, a little trickle of blood following as he dislodged it. 

“Spencer, you need to calm down, please?” Luke spoke softly but it didn’t work. 

“No! I can’t calm down! You have to leave. Why are you here? Have you not done enough damage?” He was sobbing out of nowhere, trying to climb out of the bed but the catheter he was attached to kept him rooted in place with a tug at his crotch. 

In a fit of rage he threw the sheet off of himself and not much caring about the lack of dignity in his desperation to get away from who he perceived to be the man who raped him, he forcibly removed the tube inserted in his bladder. 

The pain that swelled in his genitals as he yanked the device was like nothing he had ever felt before and he collapsed on the floor with a sudden scream of agony. 

Luke was hurriedly rounding the bed, jamming the button for a nurse before running to Spencer’s aid. He was crumpled on the floor, blood and urine leaking from his exposed penis and writhing and whining. 

“Spencer, why did you do that?” Luke placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder but in an instant, the younger man was shoving him away. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t look at me!” He fought to pull his hospital gown down to cover himself. “Please, please don’t make me do it again.” 

“Do…do what?” Luke sat back on his haunches, the fear in Spencer’s eyes causing his stomach to turn. 

“I’ll do anything, just please don’t rape me again.” He sobbed. 

Spencer’s words floored Luke. He realised then that Spencer didn’t know who he was. He wasn’t seeing him as Luke, when he looked at him, he saw the man who had abused him. 

Luke felt the tears welling in his own eyes as he stared at the cowering man on the floor, still bleeding and urinating uncontrollably and groaning in pain. 

The door flew open a moment later and a nurse came rushing in. When she tried to help Spencer off the floor he started kicking and screaming in agitation. 

He had to be sedated again and Luke watched horrified as he was injected against his will, screaming as loudly as his poor lungs could manage while flailing away from the nurse. 

And then he suddenly stilled, flopping back to the ground in a pool of blood and urine.

***

When he awoke from his sedation, Spencer was alone which after what had happened previously, was most certainly for the best. 

His head was swimming from the vivid dreams and he couldn’t work out where he was or how he’d ended up here. 

Is this just another dream? Is that all death is, a series of intense, wild dreams? 

Gotta be dead. I drowned. I remember passing out, everything went black. 

He thought it was over when he’d opened his eyes and all the bodies faded away, thought he was finally going to be allowed some peace. 

But then his abuser found him again, he always found him only this time he’d restrained him. He tied him down to the bed so he couldn’t get away, spoke softly to him as though to lull him into a false sense of security. 

He’s strapped me down, what the hell is going to do to me this time? Oh no he’s going to do worse than have me suck him off this time, isn’t he? No, no I can’t, I can’t let him have me in that way! 

He’d clawed the mask off of his face and whatever the hell had been in the crook of his arm, he couldn’t make it out; he just needed it gone.

It was to his abject horror he found the man had inserted something into his penis as well. 

Why use such flimsy restraints? It’s like he wanted me to get away. Maybe he wanted a chase? He’s gotten bored of just having you suck his dick, Reid, he needs to up the ante. 

What the hell did he put inside of me? Was he trying to force an erection this time? He needs me to be hard so he can enjoy it? 

He’d tried to comfort him. When he’d fallen to the ground that monster was actually trying to sooth him. 

And who was that woman? Not Cat, not Diane. Are there more of them now? Oh god please, they’re enough on their own. 

He started to register the mask on his face, something itching the crook of his arm again and…yes there was that thing in his groin again. First things first, his arm. 

Rolling his head to the side he blinked several times as he tried to focus on what was on his arm. No, not on his arm. In his arm.

Must be Tobias, he’s drugging me, wants to make this easier on me. Whatever they plan on doing to me, he’s trying to help me forget. Maybe I should lean into it, alcohol was only doing so much. Dilaudid is better, dilaudid will make the pain go away. 

But what is in my damn cock?

He tried to sit himself up but his lungs burned viciously at even the smallest movement. He tried to power through, pulling the sheet off of his body and rolling up the gown he wore.

What am I wearing? Is he dressing me up now? Wants to dress me like a woman before he fucks me? What is this guy into?

The tube exited the tip of his penis and seemed to trail down the side of the bed, Spencer followed it to a clear bag hanging on the metal rails beneath the mattress. The bag was almost entirely empty with a small amount of yellowish liquid in the bottom.

Is that urine? Is that my urine? What is this for? Why would he…fuck why does my stomach hurt? 

He groaned behind the mask, falling back against the pillows. A pinching pain could be felt in his stomach and lower back. Each breath seemed to aggravate his lungs, it felt like someone was sitting on his chest with how hard it was to take a breath. 

The mask…is that helping or hindering? 

His shaky hand raised to the mask over his nose and mouth and he started trying to lift it but before he could, the door opened and Spencer froze his movements, looking wide eyed at the young woman who just entered the room.

She paused when she saw him looking back at him, both of them blinking at each other for a few moments before she smiled and continued towards him.

“Doctor Reid, I’m glad to see you’re awake.” She spoke in a chipper voice.

Doctor Reid? No one’s called me that in a long time. 

“How are you feeling?” She looked between him and a machine which was beeping a little frantically. She adjusted a dial and it quietened a little. “Hmm, you seem a little agitated?” 

Who are you? What do you want? How can you tell how I am from a machine that won’t stop beeping? Where am I and why do I have all of these…oh. Oh. 

“I’m not…not d-dead?” His voice was so quiet and hoarse she could only just hear him.

“You most certainly are not dead.” She smiled softly at him. “You’re at Canyon Vista Medical. Why don’t I get your doctor and he can explain more okay?” 

“Mmm’k.” Spencer nodded, his head cloudy. “Can I…w-water?”

“I’ll have the doctor bring you some.” She gently patted his arm before turning on her heels and exiting the room. 

The beeping makes sense, that’s your heart. Mask is probably oxygen helping you breathe after you nearly drowned yourself you dumb fuck. The needle is an IV, not dilaudid, can’t deny I’m a little disappointed. And you’re attached to a catheter, you ripped it out you moron. 

No wonder your stomach hurts you probably tore something, can’t urinate properly now and the pain is your bladder filling up with urine you can’t pass, you absolute goddamn fucking IMBECILE. 

No, no, must still be a dream. I’m dead, I’m DEAD. I saw him, right here in this room. He was right there trying to touch me, calling me cariño, trying to get me to…if I were alive he couldn’t be here. He’s still in prison, can’t be here. Must be dead. 

You drowned you jackass, you’ve fried you’re fucking brain to pieces. If you are alive your brain is no better than a goddamn potato at this point. You can’t trust your mind, can’t trust what you’re seeing. 

You’ve really gone and done it this time, Reid.

The door opened again and a man around his age in a white coat stepped inside, hugging a clipboard to his chest and holding a plastic cup in his other hand. 

He was tall and in shape with a dark complexion and shaved head, he oddly reminded Spencer of Morgan. 

Must be dead, Derek isn’t a damn doctor. You’re losing it, you are fucking losing it. 

“Hello Doctor Reid, my name is Doctor Ryan, I’m a neurologist. I was told you wanted some water?” He held the plastic cup towards Spencer.

Spencer reached for it, his hand trembling as he tried to clutch it. He brought it to his lips, or at least tried to, but hit the mask instead. 

“Careful, you can take it off for a moment while you drink but you need to take slow sips. If you find it hard to breathe, please put the mask back on right away.” Doctor Ryan, who still looked suspiciously like Derek Morgan, told him softly. 

Spencer nodded and cautiously lifted the mask before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a sip. Even the smallest drop of water felt glorious in his dry mouth. 

“Do you understand where you are? What happened to you?” 

Spencer took another sip, gasped for a breath before he remembered the mask and quickly fixed it back on his face before sucking in a deep lung full of oxygen. 

“D-dead?” He croaked. “Am I?” 

“No,” Doctor Ryan smiled sadly at him. “You’re in the hospital. We believe you fell asleep in the bathtub after consuming a lot of alcohol and fell beneath the water. You drowned.” 

He thinks it was an accident. At least they aren’t going to cart you off to some psyche ward and have you on suicide watch. 

Spencer wasn’t sure if the voice in his head was his own or if it belonged to one of the ghosts. His head was still blurry and he couldn’t decipher the voice. He supposed it didn’t really matter. 

“Are you in any pain or discomfort?” Doctor Ryan spoke again. 

“Hmm,” Spencer hummed. “Lungs sore.” 

“That’s to be expected. We removed the fluid from your lungs and you were on a ventilator for a while. But your respiratory activity is still not where we would like it to be. You may also feel some pain in your chest from the CPR administered to you. Nothings broken but scans show some bruising on your sternum.” The doctor spoke and Spencer screwed his face up. 

He was saying a lot of words and not all of them Spencer was able to comprehend. It felt like a thick veil was shrouded around his brain, not allowing all the information to pass through. 

You’ve really scrambled your brain. You can’t make sense of any of this. How many brain cells did you kill off? 

“I…okay.” He sighed, rubbing his eye with the hand not cradling the water cup. 

“Are you experiencing any other discomfort?” 

Spencer nodded.

“S-stomach. Back.” 

“Hmm,” Doctor Ryan frowned, bending down to inspect the catheter bag and seeing it was almost empty. “You may have done some kind of damage when you removed your catheter. The nurse noted some swelling when she reinserted it. Can I take your temperature?” 

“Hmm.” Spencer didn’t have the strength to fight it. 

The doctor moved closer to Spencer’s bed, setting his clipboard down on the side table and retrieving an in-ear thermometer from his pocket. He removed the sterile cap with his gloved hand and leaned in towards Spencer, gently inserting the little tip in Spencer’s ear. 

A moment later he was standing back and looking at the reading with a mildly concerned expression.

“It seems your temperature is a little high. My guess would be that you’ve torn or stretched your urethra in the removal of the catheter and this has led to either a urinary tract infection or urethritis which has narrowed the passage for urine to pass through. We’ll need to insert a suprapubic catheter through a hole in your abdomen to allow urine drainage. We’ll need to do this as soon as possible and under general anaesthetic. I’ll order an ultrasound so we can see more of what’s going on. It should be easily treatable with antibiotics as long as it's nothing more serious.” Doctor Ryan once again spoke too many words and Spencer struggled to keep up. 

Ryan pressed the button to call a nurse in while he picked his clipboard back up and inspected it. 

“I do need to ask you some questions, ascertain if you have any neurological deficits from the loss of oxygen. Would it be okay to start while we wait for the nurse to come to prep you or is the pain a little too much?” 

“No.” Spencer sighed. “S-start.” 

Let's just get it over with. Let’s find out how fucking crazy I am now. 

“Okay, we’ll start easy. Can you tell me your name?” 

“D-Doctor Reid.” He inhaled sharply behind the mask. “Doctor S-Spencer Reid. Spencer W-Walter Reid.” 

“Okay, that’s good. Can you tell me your date of birth?” 

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together as he contemplated this one.

Come on genius, it's not hard. When were you born? You know this one. And if you don’t they are only going to get harder.

“O-October.” He closed his eyes briefly. “T-twelfth?” 

“And what year were you born?” Doctor Ryan encouraged. 

Goddamnit this shouldn’t be this hard. Think, think! 

“N-nineteen…eighty.” He frowned. “No…eighty one?”

The information was all there, he was sure of it, he just struggled to bring it to mind.

“And where do you live?”

“B-Bandera.” He spoke but then, “wait no, Tombstone?”

“That’s it.” Doctor Ryan nodded. 

The door opened then and Spencer was glad for the distraction of the nurse coming back in with a soft yet sad smile. 

“I think we’ll continue this later, okay Doctor Reid? My main concern right now is getting your bladder drained and assessing any urethral damage if that’s okay with you?” Doctor Ryan asked him.

As if I have a choice?

“B-brain scram…scrab…scrambled?” Spencer wet his dry lip with his tongue. 

“Clearly there are some memory blockages but that could be explained by the sedation you’ve been under. I’ll be back and we can speak more after your procedure, okay?” 

“Hmm,” Spencer simply hummed, closing his eyes against a wave of tears. 

***

Doctor Ryan explained to both you and Luke what he believed had happened in Spencer’s catheter removal and told you he was being taken for a short procedure to insert the suprapubic device to help him urinate. 

If the issue was a blockage caused by a tear like he expected, medication would be able to treat it and he should be able to have the catheter removed in a few days if they were lucky.

What he didn’t say, what you and Luke read between the lines, was that if they weren’t lucky, he would most likely have to live with a permanent catheter. Neither of you said as much though. 

Luke had given you the abridged version of what happened when Spencer woke up and freaked out before having to be sedated again. 

He hadn’t told you that Spencer had confused him with his rapist because honestly he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud. It was one of the hardest moments of Luke’s life hearing Spencer scream those words at him. 

“I’ll do anything, just please don’t rape me again.” 

But it all came out on the phone to Emily like he knew it would. He filled her in on what happened, that Spencer was in surgery having his new catheter fitted through his stomach and then the rest just came flying out. 

“Em it was so…fuck. He thought I was him, he thought I was one of those men that…he begged me not to…not to r…I can’t even say it. It’s worse than we thought, I think he’s too far gone. I think he’s lost to some kind of other world and I don’t know if we can get him back this time. 

“It’s got to be DID, coming off his meds and the heavy drinking, it’s caused a fracture. The dissociative amnesia was one thing, but full blown dissociative identity disorder? Em, this is bad. This is really fucking bad.” 

In typical Emily Prentiss style she managed to half talk Luke off of the edge he’d been threatening to jump over since he found Spencer in the tub. 

That’s why she’s the Section Chief, she’s so good at these things. Wish she was here, god how I wish she was here. 

“We’re still stuck on this case, I think it’s going to be a long one. But I can send Garcia out? If you need some kind of back up, even just some company?” 

Honestly the thought of seeing Penelope, her splash of colour on this otherwise dreary and depressing situation filled him with a momentary joy. But of course he couldn’t have her here, she’d seen your photo, she’d know who you were.

“It’s okay, you need all hands on deck. I’m not alone anyway, Reid’s…friend is here.” 

“Friend? You mean girlfriend?” There was a hint of amusement in her tone. 

“Uh, actually I think they are more than that. I noticed she was wearing what looked to be an engagement ring.” His stomach turned the same way it did every time he looked at that ring on your hand.

“Oh wow,” Emily gasped. “That must be weird for you.”

Weird? That was certainly an understatement. Luke had been planning on proposing to Spencer since their third date. He’d even told Spencer that night he intended to marry him one day. 

Even after everything that happened, even after they broke up and Spencer moved out to Texas, Luke still believed they would be able to work things out and that he would still one day get to marry the younger man. 

Best laid plans, huh Alvez?

“I guess weird is one word for it.” He sighed. “I hate this Emily, I don’t think I know how not to be in love with him.” 

“But he’s moved on. And I thought you had too?” 

“I’m…trying I guess. Grant is incredible, really, but I guess he’s not Spencer.” 

“No, he isn’t.” Emily agreed. “He’s far less complicated. He’s not struggling through a multitude of mental illnesses. He’s stable and he has his life together and the two of you could really have a future together Alvez, if you’re just willing to put Spencer behind you.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded. “Trust me when I say I want to have all that with Grant and I am trying. Things were great before I got that fucking phone call.” 

“You’ll be okay, Alvez.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes I do.” Emily laughed. “I know you’ll be okay the same way I know Reid will be okay. You are both incredibly strong, stronger than either of you give yourself credit for. I know for a fact you will both make it through this. Spencer might have an uphill battle on his hands but it’s nothing he can’t handle. And you are going to be happy with Grant, more than happy. I know you believe Reid was the love of your life but he isn’t Luke. But Grant might be.” 

“I hate it when you’re right.” Luke grumbled. 

“No you don’t.” Emily laughed again. “Anyway I’ve got to get back. Keep me updated and keep your chin up okay?”

“I’ll try. Thanks, Em.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket. 

He padded back down the hall and found you in more or less the same position he’d left you in, slumped in the chair in the waiting room. 

He sat back down next to you, eyes drawn back to the ring on your finger and he could no longer bite his tongue. 

“He, uh…did he?” He nodded towards your hand. 

You looked at him from your seclusion in your oversized hood and instinctively curled your fingers into your palm. 

“Yeah.” You gnawed on your bottom lip. “But we all know I’m never actually going to be able to marry him.” 

“I had a ring.” Luke confessed for the first time out loud. 

You glared at him from inside your hood, eyes wide. 

“You…you did?” You croaked. 

“I was gonna propose to him but then he went to Mexico and got arrested. And after prison…there was never a good time. I still have it. It’s so dumb because it’s been years and I’m with-”

“Grant.” 

“Exactly. I know I should get rid of it but I-”

“No, Grant.” You nodded your head behind Luke and Luke stiffened. 

Slowly he turned to look over his shoulder at the man hovering in the entrance way of the waiting room. Grant looked slightly worse for wear, like he hadn’t slept, his clothes wrinkled just like his forehead. Luke jumped up and the two men took a few steps closer to one another.

“What are you…why are you…?” Luke’s voice cracked.

“I should have called, I’m sorry. I was just so worried about you and suddenly I was on a plane and now here I am.” Grant sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

Luke continued to stare in disbelief at his boyfriend here in this Arizona hospital while his ex was in surgery and he was making friends with a fugitive. Nothing about this scenario was normal so really it shouldn’t be a surprise that Grant was here. 

All of Luke’s emotions came flooding to the surface. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the other man until right now, how much he’d needed him. Emily’s words swam through his mind as his tears broke free. 

“I know you believe Reid was the love of your life but he isn’t Luke. But Grant might be.”

“Oh my god, I am so glad you’re here.” Luke crumbled, collapsing into Grant’s arms as he started to sob.

Grant held him up, cradling him against his chest while his large hand rubbed up and down Luke’s spine. He made soft cooing sounds as Luke cried into his shirt. 

“It’s okay, I’m here. Let it out, hon. I’m here.” Grant whispered into Luke’s matted hair, placing kisses on his crown. 

Luke wrapped his arms around Grant’s waist, holding onto him for dear while you watched the two men with slight misty eyes. There was no doubt in your mind that these two cared for each other deeply, it was sweet but it made you a little wistful that you and Spencer wouldn’t have the kind of future the two of them could.

As soon as Spencer was out of the woods, Luke was going to have you arrested and you’d never see Spencer again. You didn’t have a future and your last remaining memories of him would be of him in hospital. 

God you were going to miss him. 

Luke continued to sob against Grant while Grant did his best to hold him up when his legs shook violently. The strong arms keeping him on his feet made Luke feel safe, he felt like he was home. 

It never felt like this with Spencer. I loved him but it never felt like this. This is what I’ve been searching my whole life for. Ever since I was fifteen years old and coming out to ma. This is what I’ve always wanted. I love him, I really fucking love him. 

Luke peeled himself away from Grant’s chest so he could meet his gaze. Despite his tears a faint hint of a smile ghosted his lips.

“I love you.” He blurted out for the very first time. “I know this isn’t exactly the time or place to be making confessions like that but I need you to know. I love you, I am in love with you.” 

Grant smiled softly, bringing one hand to cup Luke’s cheek and brush his tears with the pad of his thumb. 

“I love you too, dummy. I wouldn't have moved across the country for just anyone.” Grant drew him closer and placed a featherlight kiss on his lips. 

Behind your hood you silently cried at the outpouring of emotions between the two men. You toyed with the engagement ring on your finger as your stomach churned. 

Perhaps if you’d known what was waiting for you out there, if you’d known one day you would meet someone like Spencer and fall in love so profoundly, you wouldn’t have gone after Sayers. 

If you’d known where your life would end up then maybe you wouldn’t have pulled that trigger. But because of that one stupid mistake, you and Spencer would never have a future, you barely had a past. It was only a matter of time before Luke took you in and your short yet torrid love story with Spencer would be over before it had a chance to begin. 

Luke and Grant were just at the beginning of their tale, while your ending was currently being penned for you.

***

Hospital. Hospital. You are in the hospital. Not dead. Still alive. Hospital. 

Spencer repeated this mantra after waking up with a pain in his stomach and remembering the surgery he was having to insert the suprapubic catheter. 

Not dead. Not in limbo. Alive. Hospital. 

But if that’s true, why are the ghosts here?

He couldn’t see them thank god but he could hear them. A violent cacophony of voices blared inside of his head as they all fought for attention. 

Why are you here? If I’m really alive, why are you here? 

“You know why, Spencie. You didn’t completely destroy that delicious brain.” 

Fuck, have I had a schizophrenic break? Aren’t I too old to have my first break? Not unheard of, just rare. You always have been an overachiever.

“It’s not schizophrenia and you know it. You lived with it long enough, you know this isn’t what your mother had.” 

What is it then? It certainly feels like it. 

“Oh jeez, you really did fuck your brain cells didn’t you?”

He couldn’t comprehend which voice was saying what, his head was too foggy to discern the voices from each other. 

“Just think about it, logically. You know what this is.”

Spencer inhaled sharply, trying to focus on the symptoms in order to ascertain a cause. 

Disconnected from my surroundings. Foggy memory. Couldn’t even remember my date of birth at first. Uncertain in myself, in who I am. Multiple and distinct personalities fighting each other inside my brain. Dissociations. PTSD. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

DID. I’m suffering from dissociative identity disorder. Fuck, no, no not this too. It’s too much, its too fucking much. 

He was spiralling, floating out into the ether. His vision grew fuzzy at the edges, his stomach coiled into thick knots. 

The door swung open and he peered at Doctor Ryan through eyes that weren’t his own. Someone else was with him, a woman he had never seen before.

“How are you feeling, Spencer? You may feel a little discomfort from the insertion but that’s to be expected.” Doctor Ryan smiled at the man he had no idea wasn’t Spencer in that moment. 

“Spencer’s gone away.” The slightly haggard, older voice spoke from Spencer’s mouth, words laced with frustration. “Couldn’t hack it. He never could. My son is so weak.” 

Doctor Ryan and the woman exchanged a look and the woman took a step forward. In speaking to Luke and you they had understood the fear that Spencer may have succumbed to DID, which was why Ryan had invited Doctor Vikram, the hospital's head of psychiatric care, to assess Spencer.

“My name is Doctor Vikram but you can call me Dahlia. Can I ask what your name is?” The woman smiled appeasingly at the man who was not Spencer Reid.

“William. William Reid.” 

“And you are Spencer’s father?” She jotted down some notes. 

“For my sins.” The man in the bed rolled his eyes. And then in another voice “boys a goddamn sinner through and through.” 

“And your name is?” 

“Raphael.” The man spoke in a clipped tone. 

“Okay, are you here to protect Spencer?” 

“Protect him?” Raphael spoke through Spencer. “Why on earth would I want to do that? Thorn in my side that man. His daddy’s right, he’s a weakling.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I think Spencer is a little scared, probably overwhelmed. I think he is using you and Mister Reid to hide from us. But I would very much like to speak with him.” Dahlia stayed calm, it was her job after all. 

She’d dealt with DID more than she cared to have, knew its workings and also knew how hard it was to diagnose. But Spencer was making it relatively easy. Whether or not this was just a passing phase or if it was permanent would be the hard part of the diagnosis. 

With his reported alcohol intake and the quitting his medication, she was hopeful that this would just be temporary. The variables had added up and created a shift in his mind but with any luck once he was back on the right medication and not drinking so much the symptoms may ease off and potentially never come back. She hoped it was just a brief break from reality and that it wouldn’t last forever. 

“With all due respect, Doc,” a sassy female voice left the man's lips now. “Spencie can’t handle it. Whatever you need to tell him, you’ll have to go through us, sweetie.” 

Again Vikram and Ryan exchanged a look. The personalities were rapidly presenting, hurriedly flitting between. That was three distinctive voices now in a matter of minutes. And there was no way to truly know how many people lived inside of Spencer’s head. 

“Spencer, I know you are in there and I need you to come out. Stop hiding behind these other personalities. You are safe, you are in the hospital. Whatever it is that you’re trying to hide from can’t hurt you here, I promise you that.” Doctor Vikram spoke slowly and calmly, daring to place her hand on Spencer’s bare arm.

His eyes flicked down to where she touched him. Her hand was cold, almost icy and it sent a shiver up his spine. His eyes fluttered closed and he suddenly went completely limp, muttering under his breath while he collapsed against the pillows.

“He’s too weak, not strong enough. He can’t handle it. We’re here to help.” 

A moment or two later his eyes shot back open and he looked frantically between the two doctors at his bedside, one of whom was touching his arm. The heart monitor started to increase its rhythmic beeps and he breathed heavily into his oxygen mask. 

His hand came to his chest, pressing against his bruised sternum and he groaned whilst trying to fight to catch his breath again. 

“Fuck, why…hurts. S’hurts.” He panted, a look of pain lacing his features. 

“Spencer, is that you?” Doctor Ryan stepped forward.

“Y-yes.” He nodded, still pressing against his chest. 

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, raising his voice to be heard over the beeping and Spencer’s erratic breaths.

“C-chest. Chest h-hurts.” 

Doctor Ryan whipped his stethoscope out of his lab coat pocket and hurriedly put it in his ears, holding the other end to Spencer’s chest while Spencer’s hand fell back to the bed. He moved it around a little, listening to Spencer’s uneven breath sounds. 

“He’s in respiratory distress. We need to get him up to the ICU stat. Page Doctor Wells to meet us there.” Ryan barked at Vikram. “Spencer, you're going to be okay, I just need you to try and stay calm. We’re taking you to the ICU, we’re paging the on call pulmonologist but I believe she will recommend you go back on the ventilator. You have to try and stay calm until we can sedate you.” 

Stay calm? You want me to fucking stay calm! Are you serious? My lungs feel like they’re going to explode! Fucking Christ just leave me here to die, wouldn’t it be easier? Fucking calm, how can I be calm? 

Internally he was screaming but he made little more than a whimper out loud. Everything seemed to speed up and slow down all at once and his head was a ravaged mess of voices and emotions and he didn’t have the energy or the willpower to pick through them all. 

There was a rush of light, was he moving? Were the walls moving? Something was moving. 

People came and went from his vision while he tried to fight for a breath. His lungs were on fire. He felt like he was drowning all over again. 

Somewhere in his mind Tobias tutted and shook his head at Spencer. Cat rolled her eyes and whispered something in Diane’s ear. Merva simply shook his head and his father muttered something about him not being strong enough. 

His abuser loomed over them all, that wicked smile on his face as he reached out a calloused hand and brushed Spencer’s eyelids until his eyes were closed. 

The pricking of a needle in the crook of his arm was the last thing he was conscious of before everything went dark and the ghosts came out to play. 

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling @pleasantwitchgarden @djsjjsjsjsjsnsnsns @bringitonhomejohnb @chineray1234

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss it Better Pt:2

Curly x Reader

AN: Holy shit I did NOT expect all the love and support from the original like god damn! People begging for a part 2 and everything (I’ll make sure to tag those who asked for one at the bottom) Like oh my god thank you guys so much! This means the WORLD to me! As a disabled person trying to make his medical issues more accurate it means so much that yall love it and how I write in general! Thank you!

SUM: You and Anya were busy dealing with changing Curly’s wrappings together. Sharing stories, and just trying to stay positive. That’s when you just had to ask. What’s going on between her and Jimmy?

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, Anya sharing her trauma so pls take care of yourself, medical gore, medical situations, light violence,

“Thank you again for handling Curly’s medication. I’m sorry I just-“ Anya would try to explain again how sorry she was that she was struggling to do her job. A job you could never blame her for. She’s been through a traumatic event of the ship crashing, and already had to try and save a near corpse. She deserves to breathe.

“Anya it’s fine, really. I’m his romantic partner as well. It be weird if I didn’t pick up some responsibility and tried to take care of him. You also deserve time to rest. You’ve done so much for him, and saved his life. Give yourself more credit. It’s not a sin to ask for help.” You would try and comfort her, as you would grab the fresh bandages for Curly.

He needed a lot of them, and they had to be changed out relatively often. He’s basically just exposed meat after all. The risk of infection was high, which you were wondering how he didn’t even catch any yet, so he needed alot of attention and care.

If only Pony Express had packed more, because the med bay was running out of them fast. Very very fast. Might be only able to maybe re wrap him a few more times now. Had you terrified because as much as you wanted to take care of him you had to leave some bandages for the rest of the crew. In case of another emergency.

You wish you could be doing more.

“We’re going to undress you. Is that alright?” Anya would ask Curly, who in return would give two blinks to indicate that he consented to being stripped. Was gonna have to be done but it was still so kind of Anya to still ask before hand.

The two of you would soon get to work on changing out his bandages. A very slow, careful, tedious job. One that normally took over a hour to do properly. So it’s time to kill some of that empty space.

“Ya know, this isn’t the first time over had to wrap up a certain someone because they got hurt. I remember a time when we were at a Ski resort with his family. Someone wanted to try a path that was meant for experts and before you know it someone’s returning to the lodge with his leg bone sticking out of his pants.”

Anya gave a little ‘oh my’ as you just laughed at the memory. Curly just adored sports. Especially the winter variety. You felt so blessed that he had a job that paid so well. Well enough that the two of you, and his own family sometimes, could go and enjoy vacations like that.

You wonder if the two of you will ever see the snow again.

“That sounds rather nice, minus the whole breaking his leg. To share a cabin together with someone. Cuddle for warmth together by the fire place. Sounds really nice.” She would speak dreamily. As if she knew it was simply that. A dream. Something that will never happen again. No matter how hard she tried.

Like something was wrong with her.

“I bet you’ll get that moment. When we escape here you’ll have a flooding of men and women coming your way. The brilliant woman who managed to fight death and win. Again and again. The most brilliant woman to ever live.” You would praise her, as you were very mindful of Curly’s catheter. As if that needed to be messed with.

“Yeah…..Maybe……” Anya didn’t really seem to actually respond. Was like she was just saying words for the sake of words. Had you wondering.

Even before the crash she had just started acting off one day. From being a cheerful woman who was gentle and full of smiles, to being so quiet and scared by the littlest of sounds. Like she expected someone to jump from around the corner and attack her. Any feeling of safety and comfort vanished.

You were worried.

“Say, Anya-“ You began to speak, while disposing the bandages safely into the bio hazard bag. “-Is everything ok? I mean duh we’re not doing to hot with being, ya know, crashed and all. But besides that. You just seem…..different.”

Anya seemed to not hear you. She simply worked on checking over Curly’s body. Hunting down any infections, looking for possible bed sores, monitoring his healing, and getting ready to do the ever so gentlest of sponge baths.

Anya did always get in the zone whenever someone was hurt. You figured she didn’t catch what you said because of it.

So repeated yourself, as you stood next to her. Impossible to miss what you were asking, as you would help Curly sit up and just move his joints to better reach with the sponge.

The only sounds in that room were Curly’s whines of discomfort. Whines to indicate truly how much pain he was in when even the pain killers can numb it.

“Anya….I know you can hear me. Is everything alright? Not to be rude but I’m kinda asking you a question.” You would be gentle, but she still couldn’t help but looked distressed.

“Anya what’s-“ You would reach a hand out, to comfort her, but the second it was raised towards her she would immediately flinch. Her startled reaction ended up even making her drop Curly’s leg on the table.

Oh that’s gotta hurt.

For a fleeting moment you put Anya on the back burner, and just focused your attention on comforting Curly. How he gave a weak sob from the intense pain.

“Shhhh I know Curly Fry. I know. It’s gonna be ok. It was an accident. You know she didn’t mean it. Shhh.” You would kiss his forehead, as Curly had a muscle spasm through his body from the intense shock to his system. So exhausted and in so much pain.

“It’s gonna be ok. I promise. I love you so much. Just think about our future. How we will get off this ship, and have that family. Have our own baby-“

The moment you said baby, that’s when Anya finally cracked.

Her hands were now covering her face, as she just broke down into sobs. Sobs that sounded so hoarse. Like she’s done it so many times that her body was just abused from it. Left you so worried and confused.

What the hell is going on here?

“Anya, what’s wrong? What did I say?” You would gently guide her to a chair, and worked on stroking her hair. Giving her as much comfort as you would to Curly. The same gentle love as he would get. Love she deserved.

It took a while for her to catch her breathe, and you didn’t rush it because it really seemed she needed it, but her own trembling body was finally able to quite down.

“I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something about Jimmy-“

You were quick to kneel down infront of her, and was ready to take in every last word she was going to say. Maybe what secrets she held could finally explain why the hell you all were crashed here. Why Jimmy crashed you all.

“Jimmy ra-“

That’s when the door opened.

As if that bastard had a sixth sense for whenever people were talking about him. That same annoyed expression, same sneer, same empty eyes.

All three of you kinda froze in time now. Looking at him, as he looked back at you all. Scanning you. As if judging to figure out what was being said before entering.

“Hey….Captain….” You swallowed, as you would return to standing. Anya herself remained in her chair, with her head down. Didn’t seem she trusted herself in showing any expressions right now.

“What were you guys talking about?” He asked, as he seemed slightly on edge. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well or had too much caffeine. Just this tension of paranoia was in the air. Like he was worried about something.

“Just about the bandages. We’re starting to run low, and Anya is just getting worried about having enough.” Wasn’t a complete lie. The best lies were the ones with truth sprinkled in.

“Of course he’s wasting our supplies.” He scoffed, before walking over to the table. You were trying to give Curly some respect with grabbing something to cover him up with, but it was like Jimmy wouldn’t let you. The stare he gave you, when you grabbed the clean hospital gown, made you just freeze in place.

It was just so full of hate.

It was just so full of disgust.

It was just cruelty in dark eyes.

It was just focused on you. As if Anya didn’t even exist right now. Like she meant nothing to him. Nothing but the wind in the air. Something you don’t even bother in registering every day. Like how you breathe in air in your lungs.

You don’t notice until it’s gone.

“Has he been given his medication?” He would ask you, as his hands would be firm on the bed side. Just seeming to assert his dominance with standing over the man. Like some got over the little people.

“Yes Jimmy. He’s been medicated. We are actually in the middle of washing him. It would be nice if there was some privacy-“ You tried to gently hint at, only for it yo fall on deaf ears.

"The crash really did do a number on you. You don’t even have a dick anymore. Just holes huh-?” Jimmy would scoff, as that was your final straw. You would give Jimmy a hard hip bump, and quickly covered Curly up. To give him dignity and respect.

“Hey-! Watch it! Don’t think because you are Curly’s little eye candy doesn’t mean you can go pushing people around-“ Jimmy would bark at you.

You didn’t feel fear.

Jimmy was messing with YOUR man now. Curly deserved dignity and respect. He doesn’t deserve to be called a ‘set of holes’ no way in hell. No one deserved that and ESPECIALLY not Curly.

“Will you just shut up?! What the hell are you even doing here?! Aren’t you the Captain now? Captains are suppose to be doing whatever it takes to help the crew. All you’ve been doing is walking around and insulting everyone! It’s like you don’t want us to be saved. Be a Captain and take some responsibility already-!”

The anger that he had for you was terrifying. You swore it was like a switch. He suddenly seemed taller, bigger, angrier, more intense. You felt like you were shrinking more and more. Like you would melt into a puddle under that heated stare.

But you refused to.

For Curly.

“Listen here you-“

SLAP

You smacked him across the face. Was like the world went mute. No one was so much as breathing. Just the stares of shock from Anya and Curly.

“Get. Back. To. WORK.”

You ordered, and he listened.

He would hold his red cheek, and walked away like a dog with its tail between its legs. As if he was all talk and no bite. That he couldn’t bring himself to be more than an angry voice.

Someone needed to keep him in his place.

“Can this damn ship get any more hectic?” You sighed with your fingers to the bridge of your nose. Just trying to think clearly.

That’s when Anya found her voice.

“I’m pregnant.”

You opened your eyes wide, and was frozen in place.

Did you hear that right? No no. No way. Why would she be pregnant? How would she get pregnant? Who would get her…

“Oh my god.”

You slowly turned around to Anya with the puzzle pieces falling into place. You finally realized what had happened.

Jimmy never was a responsible man.

@meheheasasa @letmebedelutional @trashcansally @balanahala562

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[heysawbones]

Earlier today, I asked Google about removing the ink from a gel pen cartridge. Google thought I meant, “how do you revive a dead gel pen?” No. See. Sometimes, when you’re using gel pens in ways they were never meant to be used, you find the ballpoint inadequate. In my case, it was too big to get into tight spots on the doll shoe I was detailing. Gel ink is water soluble. You should be able to paint with it. Right?

But how do you get it out? Is the coverage okay? Folks,

the coverage is excellent.

You can learn how to free the gel ink from its tiny prison, plus the pros and cons below the cut.

Here’s the tools I used, except the hobby/model drill. That turned out to be unnecessary. A syringe, some kind of needle OR stiff catheter of similar dimensions, and scissors will do the trick.

I cut the pen above the stopper and below the ink/air bubble. If a gel pen is old enough or you have enough patience, sometimes you can wiggle the stopper out of the bottom of a gel pen instead. If that’s an option, I’d recommend it for reasons I’ll touch on later.

The tip of a Sakura Gellyroll has two notches in the plastic where the ballpoint head is seated in the grip. I used the eye end of a fat yarn needle to wedge into that notch and loosen the tip and cartridge until I could remove them from the grip. I think you could get away without removing the tip and cartridge, but I found it easier/neater to do it this way.

This shows where I cut into the cartridge: between the end of the air bubble, and the end of the ink. The more ink your pen has, the smaller - and possibly harder to identify - this area is.

Unfortunately, my syringe was not made to be used with a needle. To compensate, I used sticky-tac to cover any air gaps - vacuum is essential to a syringe. I used artist’s tape on top of that to stabilize the connection. You probably don’t need to do this, but if you do, there you go. I bet heavily chewed bubblegum would work, too. Or clay. Or lots of things.

I really didn’t think this would work, due to bad luck with past attempts. It does work.

Here, I’m using a kolinsky sable to pick up the ink but any pointed brush meant for acrylic, watercolor, or ink should do the trick.

THE OPACITY. THE PIGMENT LOAD. THE ABILITY TO DETAIL TINY AREAS

—

PROS.

-Incredibly opaque for something water-soluble and relatively low viscosity

-high pigment load

-very smooth finish

-accessible

CONS.

-If you bought gel pens with the intent of breaking them open for the beautiful ink inside, it would be expensive - especially for decent ink like Gellyroll

-Coverage is not as even with brush as it is with rollerball. This is easy to get around, but noticeable. Build up the coat until it’s opaque and smooth. Do not allow it to dry between coats. Once you’re done, put the item away to dry for as long as you can stand. DO NOT APPLY TOP COAT BY BRUSH

-Slow-drying on many surfaces if applied heavily enough for a smooth finish, but concerningly fast-drying in the syringe. It’s also unclear if recapping the original pen and sealing the cut end will preserve the ink, or if gel ink harvesting is a one-and-done where you will need to take all you can at one time, then store it in an airtight container. I’ve stuffed the cut end of my cartridge with sticky tac and put the cartridge back in the grip/recapped the pen, but it remains to be seen if this is sufficient for storage.

-Your gel pen will never be the same again: even if the ink can be preserved in the original cartridge, breaking the vacuum causes the ink to blob out of the roller ball. There’s a real possibility that this will just leak everywhere out both ends, which is why I recommend preserving the stopper at the bottom of the grip if plausible.

CONS 2,

continued (of detailing models, etc. with gel ink generally, not specifically the brush application thereof)

- Gel ink requires a porous surface. Do not expect to put pen to plastic without primer or Mr. Super Clear. The ink will consolidate centrally (proximal to heaviest application), gapping away from edges.

-Slow-drying: this takes forever, and it is easy to ruin a finish in the meantime.

—Durability: essentially none. Wait at least a few hours after you think the gel is dry, then apply a clear coat. SPRAY ONLY. Do NOT go back over it with a wet brush, as you risk reactivating the ink and ruining all your hard work. Spray works because it is ruining the finish evenly, and therefore, not at all. Wait and then apply the top coat again. These top coats will be your durability.

[teacupsandcyanide]

I get why people dislike Ken and I also get why people have criticisms for the way his character was handled, but also I’m sorry, if they non-consensually hooked me up to a drip and a catheter and locked me in a white room in a taxi with no one but a dog to talk to for two months, I’d also put on my Big Bad suit and start hunting down the closest protagonists like it was Pokémon Go