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malleux · 5 months

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freedom. | quest for tyr [IV]

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young adult!atreus x reader

-> synopsis: The only times you had ever experienced adventure was through your books. It was hard to live an exciting life while trapped in Alfheim.

You know you're meant for something greater than wasting away underground.

[loosely based on the events of Gow: Ragnarok]

-> chapter warnings: all chapters contain spoilers, cursing, anxiety, fighting, fight scene not accurate to canon, blood

-> a/n: sorry for the much, much shorter update. this is literally half of what I normally write, but the "quest for tyr" section of the story is over and it's time for "old friends". please enjoy!

You were sick of it.

Atreus and Kratos, very obviously, had a strained relationship at the moment. It was typical of every parent-child duo to butt heads at times, but couldn't they have done it in private?

You nor Mimir wanted to hear constant bickering. Atreus wouldn't listen and Kratos wouldn't hear him out. In your opinion, who cares?

The deeper into the mine you got, the more your eye twitched in annoyance as they argued. It was typical for a parent and their kid to disagree— Hel, you and your father argued often— but this extent was maddening.

Did you hear that, brothers? I don't think we're alone." Even Mimir had butt in a few times to make them stop, deciding to comment on the weird noises he heard that Kratos and Atreus were definitely speaking over.

"Ears open. Eyes up." Kratos responded.

"It came from over here. There's a passage leading out."

Atreus headed to the other side of the room where the entrance to a small crawl-space was embedded in the wall. You made a face, once more despising the confined space as you watched Atreus crouch down and shuffle inside.

"Atreus. Do my words irritate you?"

"It's fine. I get it." Atreus's tone was obviously annoyed.

"Brothers— wait, is that light up ahead there?" Mimir cut his own sentence off.

You came out of the crawl-space into another very open area. Laying a hand on your spear, you looked around. Stalactites hung dangerously low from the ceiling, building up from years and years of existence. Across the room was a door, a large lock across the front of it.

"The door is barred." You commented. "There has to be a reason."

"You don't lock a door like that to secure spare bedclothes." Mimir agreed.

Atreus pulled out his bow and aimed it at a lower corner of the door frame, yelling out his spell and releasing the arrow into the weak spot. It cracked, the old wood beginning to crumble around it. He did the same with the next corner, and the next, until the door was loose enough to open.

Kratos followed after him, walking up to the large latch and grabbing it, readying himself to heave the wood up and unlock the door.

As he was doing so, however, a loud yell rang across the cavern. You didn't recognize its words, but the thought was quickly pushed away as two large beings jumped down from another entrance in the room. You wanted to kick yourself for not seeing it and securing it earlier.

They raised their weapons and ran forward, one choosing to clash with Kratos as the other went straight for you. You didn't have time to summon a shield with the enemy's speed, instead choosing to use the pole of your spear to counter his swing instead.

"Mimir!" You called, "What the Hel are these things?"

"Einherjar, lass!" He yelled back, as if you were just expected to know what those were. "Be careful, they can use the Bifrost and could get a brutal hit on ya!"

You heeded Mimir's words just in time as the Einherjar's staff began to glow a bright purple. He swung it towards you again and you dodged, rolling out of the way and standing up behind him. You stabbed the spearhead into his back. The Einherjar yelled out in pain, thrashing to get un-pierced, but the damage was done.

"Skjálfa!"

Turquoise light emitted from the tip of the spearhead and illuminated the inside of the Einherjar, its power sending shocks through his body. He slumped to the ground.

Atreus and Kratos took on the second Einherjar, Atreus continuing his strategy of staying in the background for long-distance shots while Kratos used his little fire-blade-chain-things. The fight didn't last long-- obviously a god, a demigod, and a half-elf were no match for the Einherjar-- and you were able to take a moment to catch your breath.

Between the constant magic use and the fact that you were just out of practice from not using your spear in so long, this journey was definitely starting to wear on you. You were beginning to think you had asthma-- did they make a healing spell for that?

"Clearly they don't want us in there. This has to be it." Atreus, ever the energetic one, was ready to push forward.

You held a hand up, chest still slightly heaving. "Let's-- can we talk about this? What are we going to do if it is? Just unleash a god of war into the Realms?"

"N-no!" Atreus glanced at his father. You knew Kratos wasn't a big fan of Atreus's plan anyways, so you figured your words might have made Atreus anxious about another argument. "I'm hoping we can talk to him. Explain what's going on with Fimbulwinter and everything. Maybe he can help."

"Help with... the end of the world?"

"Yes, exactly." Atreus reached forward and took your wrist into his grasp. His fingers were rough and calloused, no doubt from years of using his bow. They were warm as well, heating up your entire body. Or, maybe that was the exhaustion from all the exercise. "Let's go."

Kratos approached the large wooden door and inspected it. Obviously, it wasn't able to be opened through normal means. Instead, he dug his blades into the wood and turned around, pulling at the chains over his back. He yelled out in effort and eventually, the door flew off its hinges and splintered across the room. You covered your face to protect it from the wood debris and dust that flew up around you all. By the time you could open your eyes to look around, Atreus was already running towards the entryway.

"Tyr!"

Inside the smaller room sat a man. A very dirty, very sad man. HIs head hung low, eyes trained on the dirt floor even as Atreus knelt before him. Kratos was not far behind. You chose to stay a bit further back, still holding your spear just in case. Not that you would want to fight a god, but you would if that's what it came down to.

The man shook his head. "What trickery is this, Odin...?" When he looked up, you felt your heart lurch. His eyes were a glowing white, piercing through the dust and darkness of the room and burning through everything he looked at. Bifrost eyes-- similar to Mimir's. "What game do you play with me now?"

"We're not with Odin." Atreus began, "We're the good guys."

Kratos stalked behind Tyr, just as vigilant as you were, and snatched the thick noose that was tied around Tyr's neck. He sliced it easily, but Tyr made no motions to move. He still sat-- hunched over, face turned to the ground.

"This is the god of war?" Kratos questioned.

"Those blades..." Tyr eyed the blades in Kratos's hands-- the metal still glowing with heat. "I know you. Godkiller... Have you come for me now?"

God-huh?

You had questions.

The only time Tyr made any major movements came next, after Kratos sheathed his blades and stepped towards him. He held his hand out, offering help, but Tyr frantically scooted away from him. "Stay away!"

Just how scary was Kratos?

"Brother, let me try." Kratos lifted up Mimir's head to the now-hyperventilating god. "Tyr-- Tyr! Look, you know me, don't you?"

"You-- you killed Mimir!"

"No, no, no, no--"

"We brought him right back!" Atreus butted in.

"Stay away from me, you monsters!"

Tyr jumped up, pushing his way away from Kratos, Mimir, and Atreus. He rushed past you, attempting to escape, but not before you stood in front of him. You had put your spear away, realizing that having your weapon drawn would only scare him more.

"Tyr, we're not here to hurt you--"

"And you kidnapped the half-elf! What more can you do?" Tyr cried out, going around you and running through a different tunnel. He smashed through the wooden planks blocking it, more debris flying everywhere.

"Kidnapped--"

"We need him!" Atreus yelled, ignoring Kratos's calls to wait and chasing after Tyr.

Before you both could follow, several more Einherjar jumped down. They must have sensed your presences-- or heard Tyr yelling. You drew your weapons and quickly defeated them, following after Atreus through the tunnel.

Many Einherjar stopped you along the way and you were only guided by the echos of Atreus's voice as he pled for Tyr to listen. Eventually, you were able to back the god into a corner. Tyr was still begging to be let go-- to be shown mercy, as if he was expecting Odin himself to rain hellfire upon the mines.

Atreus threw his hands up as you and Kratos approached, as if asking 'What now'?

"This is my father, and this is Y/N. We help people." Atreus tried once more.

"I don't belong out here. Please. It's worse when he's angry."

Kratos suddenly grabbed Tyr off of the floor with superhuman strength, pinning him to the wall. "Are you not a soldier? Are you not a leader of men? Answer me! Master yourself. My son brought us here to this place for you. Look at him."

Tyr's gaze flickered to Atreus, who was trying to subtly use puppy-dog eyes. You bit back a laugh.

"You...? Why? You don't know me."

"We know of your past endeavors." You shrugged, "You did good. You helped the Giants. We're just... returning the favor."

"We...?"

"We are leaving. Are you coming with us?" Kratos waited for Tyr to nod before releasing him back to the ground.

Tyr took a breath and stood, finally reaching his full height. You craned your neck up to look at him, and then made eye contact with Atreus. You raised your eyebrows to convey "I'm surprised this worked". He returned the sentiment. The look didn't last long as Atreus fumbled around for a second, unhooking a spear from his back and holding it out to Tyr.

"Here. Your statue in the lake had a spear, so I figured you might want a--"

"Walking stick? Oh, a kind thought, but no thank you."

Another look was shared-- this time, confusion.

Tyr crouched down to Atreus's height, laying one hand on his shoulder. "I ran earlier because I don't always know what's real. Sometimes, there's a... uh..."

"There's no shame in that, brother. We live in strange times." Mimir tried to comfort.

"Everyone hears him talk?"

Kratos ignored it. "We must return home."

He began leading your little group further, probably feeling a wind or something that could lead to an exit. It was a bit awkward-- having a new giant god join the group, but it was still comfortable. Tyr was still wary, but nobody could blame him.

"Are there names by which I should call you?" He broke the silence.

"I'm Atreus. You already know Mimir. That's my father, Kratos, and then there's Y/N." Atreus looked at you and smiled reassuringly. "You're not the newbie anymore, Y/N."

You huffed out a laugh. "Considering I've only been here a few days, I still think I'm new."

"A few days? Had I not known any better, I would assume you were apart of the family."

You knew Tyr didn't mean anything by it, but the wording still stung. It was a reminder that you really weren't apart of any family. "Uh, no. What-- um, what all do you know?"

You were nervous to ask, considering you never even went into detail when explaining everything over dinner those days ago.

"I know that there was a half-elf being housed in Alfheim for many years. There wasn't much word once the fighting began, but goodness did you cause a ruckus when you left. Dark elf soldiers being dispatched left and right to find you and bring you home."

"They--they're looking for me?"

"Why wouldn't they? You're not supposed to exist."

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writingsonawall · 3 years

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Falling, fallen chapter 1

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OFC

Story summary: Spencer randomly meets Leah at the library and their first encounter was supposed to be just that; a random one-time occurance. When an unsub lands Spencer in the very same hospital she works at, she feels obligated to take care of him. But what happens when his team notices her everlooming presence and theorises that perhaps she could be the unsub they’re looking for?

Chapter summary: The guy Leah had met at the library just an hour ago suddenly gets wheeled into the ER where she works.

Warnings: Mention of blood, but not a lot.

Wordcount: 6,6 k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Leah hadn’t even been on call for half an hour when a stretcher was rolled in through the doors of the ER, someone shouting “Male, early thirties! Gunshotwound to the lower abdomen.” That was about all she was able to concentrate on. The ER was a mess of chaos, every available doctor and nurse running between patients. People were running into each other, medicalequipments crashing onto the floor every now and then, some patients screaming out in pain… Leah could feel the beginning of a migraine sneaking up on her. She almost never worked in the ER, usually sticking to Post Op. or the ICU, but there had been a masscollision on the highway that night so it was kind of like an all hands on deck situation.

Leah was currently working on picking out broken glass from the arm of an elderly woman. It wasn’t a terrible wound, but judging by the way it was bleeding she’d probably need stitches. Still, Leah had no idea why she was there. Her injuries weren’t lifethreatning and the ER was overcrowded with other patients who actually needed their attention more than this woman. She’d be just fine if she had gone to an urgent care, but Leah wasn’t about to argue.

“Leah, I’m gonna need you with me in traumaroom 2.” Dr. Ruiz called over the noise and it gathered her attention. She caught his glance across the room and saw that he was following the stretcher which had just been brought in by the ambulance. Leah quickly mumbled her apologies to the woman, pulled off her gloves and started to navigate through the sea of chaos. She eventually pushed the doors of traumaroom 2 open, rubbing her hands dry from the sanitizer she’d covered them with.

“What’s his status?” Leah asked once she entered, quickly making her way over to the man laying across the stretcher. She knew why Dr. Ruiz had called her in here. The patient was a gunshotvictim, which usually meant a lot of blood. Typically, in cases like this, there were two doctors to check the injuries and make medicaldecisions. Gunshotwounds were always messy and it was hard to know what to expect, so two doctors in the room was always ideal, just in case the patient were to crash or there was a lifethreatning injury. But currently all doctors seemed to be otherwise occupied, so Leah understood why Dr. Ruiz had called her in. Blood and gore never bothered her, it actually made her calmer. The more pressure she had on her shoulders, the calmer and more collected she stayed. She was on the traumateam for a reason, although be it as a nurse, so she had seen a thing or two in her past.

“Oh my God, Spencer!” She exclaimed, surprised to discover the identity of the man sprawled out in front of her. She stood there frozen in place for a moment, wondering what had happened. She had left him at the library not even an hour previously and now he was here, blood pooling slowly from the open wound in his abdomen.

The surprise only shocked her for a split second before she shook herself out of her thoughts. Stroking a hand over his forehead, she matted his mop of curls out his face. Using a thumb to force one of his eyelids open, she grabbed a small flashlight from the pocket of her scrubs.

“Spencer, can you hear me?” She asked him, shining the light into his eyes a few times, watching for any sort of unusual reaction of his pupils. She did the same with the other eye. “Spencer?” She asked once more. He was out cold, but his pupils responded as expected so that made her a little more at ease.

“You know him?” Dr. Ruiz asked over his shoulder, roaming through the cabinets to find all the equipments he’d need to fully check the injuries.

“Well, kinda,” Leah answered, not knowing what else to say in that moment. There was no use to lie about the fact that she’d met him an hour earlier, but she didn’t exactly know him.

“Are you gonna be okay with this or do you need to step out?” Dr. Ruiz asked her, finally returning to stand at Spencer’s other side.

“I’m good,” Leah told him, probably a little too fast to sound convincing. But it was true, she was nothing if not professional.

“Okay,” Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Ready to move him?” He asked and it was Leah’s turn to nod. She pushed the stretcher closer to the bed in the room as Dr. Ruiz got out of the way. Locking the breaks of the stretcher so it wouldn’t budge, she grabbed a tight hold of the sheet underneath Spencer as the doctor did the same on the other side. They locked eyes and counted. One, two, three. In a split second they had Spencer lifted onto the bed with such ease it looked like they had done it a hundred times before. Which they actually probably had. Dr. Ruiz was one of the doctors Leah worked closest with, since he was typically stationed at Post Op. When they were both on call, Leah was nomally the person Dr. Ruiz would call for if he needed help. They were kind of a dream team; a force to be reckoned with whenever they worked together.

As the doctor started to cut Spencer’s shirt open, Leah wheeled the stretcher out into the hall to give them space. Locking the door behind her again, she quickly took a look at his medicalfile which another nurse had just delivered in her hand.

“This is gonna hurt. Let’s push for 10mg Oxycodone,” Dr. Ruiz told her once she returned to Spencer’s side.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Cave morphine,” Leah told him as she started slicing Spencer’s shirt open from his sleeve up to his shoulder.

“Addiction or allergy?” The dortor asked.

“Addiction. Dilaudid,” Leah informed him, having just read it in his file. She had already snapped gloves onto her hands and was working on getting the IV-kit ready. “Tramadol would be a safer option, right?” Tramadol was usually the kind of drugs they’d give to patients after minor surgeries or injuries to manage the pain. It was hardly as effective as Oxy-preparations, but it was usually still enough to take the edge off. They hardly ever used it before they were able to assess the pain level of the patients, but it still seemed to be the least addictive morphinecontaining drug they had at hand. And given Spencer’s injuries some sort of morphine was needed despite what his medicalfile said. He needed something for the pain and NSAIDs weren’t going to cut it in that moment. They could handle whatever addiction-problem he had later; when he wasn’t in a potential life-threatening situation.

Dr. Ruiz nodded his head acutely, ordering her to administer 50mg. Leah worked quickly, finding a usable vein in Spencer’s hand and poking the cannula into it. Taping it down onto his hand, she hooked a bag of ring acetate to the pole by the bed and connected the tube to the IV. She noticed Spencer twitching a little at that and she moved to stand over his head.

“Spencer, are you awake?” She asked, once again matting his hair back. She noted, even through the gloves she was wearing, that he was warm and sweaty. “I’m gonna give you something for the pain, okay? It’s Tramadol, so I hope that’s okay,” she informed him, even though she highly doubted that he was coherent enough to register her words. She did as she’d said she’d do, pushing a needle Dr. Ruiz had readied for her into the IV-tube and slowly administered the drug. While the painkillers worked its way through his system, she leaned over to help Dr. Ruiz. She put pressure on the wound on his abdomen while the doctor probed around with an ultrasound, trying to look for anything that could indicate whether Spencer had an internal bleeding.

It didn’t even take a minute before Spencer calmed down, his twitching stopping completely and his breathing evening out. She was glad for that, not wanting him to be more uncomfortable than necessary.

“You paged me?” A woman's voice startled Leah and she turned to the door which was now wide open. She was another doctor, but Leah couldn’t really recall her name. Not that she really cared either.

“Yes!” Dr. Ruiz said, tightening the bandage they had just wrapped around Spencer’s wound. It was still bleeding, but the wrappings should be able to hold for the transport to the OR. “GSW to the lower abdomen. Patient is non responding, but stable. No sign of internal bleeding, but I’m sure he needs surgery to remove that bullet,” Dr. Ruiz informed the other woman who nodded along. She moved further into the room and cast a quick look at Spencer, checking the vitals, pupil responses, making sure the oxygenprosentage of his mask was correct before she once again nodded.

“I agree. He’s stable enough to be moved? Then we should wheel him down to Pre Op.,” she concluded.

“I’ll go with him,” Leah found herself speaking before she could even register those thoughts.

“No, no, no, Leah,” Dr. Ruiz said, laying a clean hand on her shoulder. “I need you here in the ER. I’ll go with him and I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.” His words reassured her a little. It’s not like Spencer was a friend or anything, but she knew him enough to put a name to the face and that brought this whole case a little closer to home. But she let him go, knowing she was needed more in the ER.

She kept her hands busy for the next two hours before Dr. Ruiz finally returned, hovering just behind her as she was working on trying to determine if she should send the teenager in front of her up to radiology or not.

“He’s in surgery now,” Dr. Ruiz informed her, not giving a care to the boy Leah was inspecting. He cried out in pain when she moved his foot at an odd angle.

“I think he needs to take a trip over to radiology. Do you mind signing the papers?” Leah asked the doctor, not wanting to talk about Spencer right now, especially not in front of another patient. She let Dr. Ruiz take over the patient, but she hovered around until they had sent the boy on his way. She cleaned up after herself and took a glance around the ER. It was getting quiet now. The rush of patients had died down now and she spotted several doctors and nurses just hanging around, chatting and taking a well deserved minibreak.

“Come on,” Dr. Ruiz said, putting a gentle hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a quick coffee and then you can head up to the ICU.” Leah had never felt more relieved by the idea of a cup of the shitty coffee the hospital had to offer. She really needed coffee now.

Leah had always liked Dr. Ruiz. She considered him a friend, at least a workfriend. It’s not just that they worked well together, but he was always very considerate; always being there if she needed a shoulder to cry on at the end of a hard day, pushing her to take a break because she always refused to, bringing her powerbars if there was a busy day and they didn’t have time for a real meal. He was nice and she liked how she could always lean on him.

“I don’t actually know him,” Leah finally spoke up once they had both filled up their cups with the cheap stuff the vendingmachines wanted to pass as coffee. Dr. Ruiz didn’t say anything, just gave a gesture of his hand for her to continue. He leaned back against the wall of the corridor and Leah mirrored him. “We just met earlier today, actually. I forgot my librarycard at the library and he found it, handed it back. We just had a small conversation, nothing big. But then I got called in for the accident, so I had to leave. I mean, I’d seen him just an hour ago and then they wheeled him in,” she explained, not really knowing what to feel.

“And what? You blame yourself or something?” He asked, clearly reading her mind.

“No, not really,” she told him, which was an obvious lie. “I guess it just shocked me. I don’t know. I mean, maybe it could have been me. I don’t even know what happened to him, but I keep thinking that it could have been me. Or maybe if I had stayed a little longer then this wouldn’t have happened at all.” She hadn’t heard anything about what had actually happened. Maybe it had been a robbery gone wrong, or maybe there had been a shootout and he was in the middle of the crossfire. She didn’t suspect the last one since they hadn’t received any other gunshotwound-patients, but the possibilities were still endless. All she knew was that he was brought in with a bullet in his abdomen and that he would hopefully pull through.

“You know, you should really stop thinking like that. It’s not healthy,” Dr. Ruiz told her and it was exactly what she needed to hear. No bullshit excuse about how it wasn’t her fault or that there wouldn’t have been anything she could’ve done. Just a plain and simple command to stop overthinking. It made a small smile play on her lips.

“Yeah, well… How can I not?” She asked him, glancing up. He gave her a sad smile, knowing it was hard to let those thoughts go. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body. Leah sighed, leaning her head back into his shoulder while taking a sip of her coffee. He didn’t say anything else and neither did she. They just stayed there in silence for another few moments before he started leading her down the corridor. They said their goodbyes in front of the ICU, Dr. Ruiz promised he’d keep her updated on Spencer’s surgery.

Leah prepared for a long night. Nightshifts were usually crap because it was so quiet and she was the kind of person who needed things to do. If she didn’t, she usually got all fidgety and restless, which was also why she never liked reading. She couldn’t sit still for longer periods of time. The more things she had to do, the better she felt once she got home at the end of the day. She had also prepared for a doubleshift, knowing the morning would be busy with doctorvisits, family coming to see their loved ones, breakfast coming around and helping certain patients go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Yeah, she looked forward to the morning, but for right now she dreaded the long night ahead.

Dr. Ruiz came up a little after two in the morning to let her know that Spencer was out of surgery and was recovering nicely. He’d been lucky, the bullet not hitting any major organs, but it had nicked his bladder so they were afraid of how his bladdercontrol would be. They wanted to keep him catheterized for a few days just to make sure everything was working properly. Apparently, he was also risking the development of internal bleeding and infections. Leah knew that, there was always a risk of that when it came to injuries like Spencer’s, but it rarely ever happened, not unless the bullet had nicked something or the surgery went wrong. But there was still a chance, so they always informed each other of it. She still knew that chances were slim so she wasn’t overly concerned about it. She was mostly happy he was going to be fine.

Spencer was rolled into his own room at the ICU around 3:30 A.M. and Leah made it her personal business to check up on him. She finished the rest of her round rather quickly after that. Once she finished up the most important tasks she grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and some food from the cafeteria. For the next hour she hid out in Spencer’s room, figuring she’d deserved a nice, long break since she was going to pull a doubleshift. It was a quiet night anyway so she didn’t even feel remotely bad about it.

He woke up a little before six in the morning, groaning softly from the bed beside her. Leah glanced over at him, giving him a moment to orient himself. She knew that her position was highly unprofessional; sitting a chair beside him with her feet propped up on his bed next to his. But she didn’t care. Her feet were aching and she loved being able to relieve the pressure for a little while. So, she played it cool, deciding it would be worse to drop her legs down in embarrassment.

“Well, hey there, Stranger!” Leah decided to greet him with the biggest smile she could master. Spencer seemed to be more alert now and he had glanced everywhere imaginable; the door, her feet, the heartmonotor, the IV-bag, the ceiling. Still, his eyes wavered between her feet and her face.

“You’re wearing mismatched socks,” he finally said. Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. That was probably the strangest thing anyone had ever said to her after coming out of surgery.

“You know, we ruled out braintrauma pretty early on, but maybe we should still call neuro?” She teased. She could see a blush creep up his cheeks, taininting them in under half a second. His eyes roamed around again, finally locking in on the clock hanging above the door.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he told her bluntly and Leah felt like he probably wasn’t in jokingmood. “Where are my things? I need to call my boss,” he said trying to move up into a sitting position. Leah decided to just watch him struggle for a moment, finding it highly amusing even though she was still a little worried about him. He was probably still woozy from the anesthesia so sitting up appeared to be a struggle. Finally, Leah dropped her feet from his bed when he groaned out in pain. She walked over to him, putting both her hands on his shoulder and pushing him firmly back.

“Don’t pull your stitches,” she told him. She took a seat in the chair again, grabbing the remote to bed and began to raise his back. He groaned out again when he was almost sitting, so she lowered the back a few notches again. “Don’t be a baby now,” she teased, but her voice was probably a little harsh. She couldn’t help it. She’d had a long day and she had been really worried about him.

“I’m not a baby,” he whispered and Leah could see a pout on his lips. It only made her smirk.

“You sure about that?” She asked, leaning over to snatch his file from the holder at the end of the bed. “You know what they say, right? About doctors being the worst patients?” She raised an eyebrow at him to give him the indication that she knew he was a doctor. It was in his file after all.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he informed her and Leah just chuckled.

“Yeah, I figured that much out. I’ve been around enough real doctors, so trust me when I say you’re definitely not the type,” she laughed. “No offense, of course,” she decided to add as an afterthought.

“None taken,” he replied, a little slurred. Leah looked over at him. “Can I call my boss now?” He asked and Leah sighed.

“Spencer, look… they’re already here, your friends I mean-” He cut her off before she even had the chance to say anything else.

“They’re not my friends. They’re my team.” His words surprised her. She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to them yet, but she’d heard that they had all been really worried and constantly asked for updates on his condition. They seemed genuinely worried about his wellbeing.

“And they can’t be your friends because they’re ‘your team’?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Are you friends with your coworkers?” Spencer asked back, and it should’ve been a witty comeback, but he actually sounded interested in knowing.

“Can’t say that I am,” she said after pondering the thought for a second or so. “Touché, by the way. But my point is, just take a minute to wake up a little bit. I’ll go get them later so you can see them, okay? Just please… take a breather, alright? And I want the doctor to take a look at you first as well. Do you even remember what happened? You just woke up from surgery after getting shot. Let that sink in before I call them in.”

“I’m fine,” Spencer insisted, but Leah just shot him a stern look. She stared him down for what felt like too long before he finally caved, leaning a little further back in his seat with a sigh.

“Good,” Leah smiled. She took a moment to really study him for the first time. He was actually really handsome, with these greenish eyes which got more honeybrown towards the middle and shaggy brown hair which she suspected was always unkept. His nose was straight and his lips slightly plump, skin clean. He actually looked like a specimen. The only negative thing she could point out were the dark circles under his eyes and she felt her heartstring tug a little, wondering what nightmares kept him up at night. The nasal cannula going into his nostrils made him look even sicker than he probably was, but it was still a sight for poor eyes.

“So, you’re… a nurse?” He asked after a few more moments of silence. Leah couldn’t help the bashful smile that stretched across her lips.

“Well, isn’t that kind of obvious?” She laughed, adoring how cute he was when he got all awkward. She took a sip of her coffee and decided it was time to call for the doctor, so she reached over Spencer's head to press the green button on the wall. Spencer was giving her a strange look and she had no idea what that meant. “What?” She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. His intense stare was kind of making her uneasy, but there was no way she was going to show him that.

“I just didn’t take you for the nursing-type,” he mumbled. “No offense,” he quickly added, just as she had done previously. But he looked almost terrified about it, as if he was actually afraid he’d insulted her. Leah could only laugh.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t exactly picture myself as the type either, but here we are. I’m damn good at my job, though.” As if on cue the door to the room opened and Sophie, a young girl who happened to be Leah’s intern, stepped through the door. She decided to have a little fun with that. “Ah! Dr. Reid, meet my intern. Sophie, this is Dr. Reid. You’re in charge of him when I’m not here. Got it?” Spencer gave her an uncertain glance and Sophie had a look of pure horror on her face. She locked eyes with Leah, the ‘Oh dear God, he’s a doctor’ kind of look written over her face. Sophie was a sweet girl, but kind of slouch, and Leah had a tendency to play small little tricks to get her to work just a little harder. Knowing that the patient was a doctor (she didn’t need to know he wasn’t a medical doctor) would definitely nudge her to go the extra mile.

“You, um, you called?” Sophie asked a little uncertainly and Leah found herself pleased when she noted the not so subtle way she leaned over to take a pump of the handsanatizer hanging on the wall by the door. It had been one of the many things Leah had added to her list of improving areas; always sanitize your hands before entering and leaving a patient’s room.

“Yeah,” Leah tried to hide her grin. “Who’s on call right now?” She asked, knowing she could just as well walk out the door and find out herself, but she loved torturing her interns just a little bit. She never crossed the line, but she always pushed them around just enough that they’d remember who was in charge. She loved it, a little innocent fun.

“Uhm, well… There’s you, obviously… and, uh, me and-” Sophie started and Leah resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Sophie, calm down. It’s fine. I mean doctors, who’s on call?” Leah smiled up at Sophie, trying to reassure her that she’d only been joking. Well, at least half-joking. That was another one of Sophie’s flaws; she was too uncertain of herself and could hardly handle a joke.

“Oh, um. I’m not sure,” Sophie mumbled, but didn’t make any move to find out. Leah just stared at her until she lifted her eyes to glance back.

“So?” Leah asked and Sophie looked even more confused at that. “Are you gonna find out for me?” That seemed to startle her because she almost jumped.

“Oh, right! Yes, I’ll be right back.” She was out the door so fast Leah couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head to herself and stood up from the chair, leaning closer to the heartmonitor and noting down Spencer’s vitals on his chart.

“That was mean,” Spencer mumbled. Leah looked at him for a second, pausing her hand which was still writing.

“It’s a bit of innocent fun. I’m their boss and you see that pager behind you,” she pointed her pen at the wall behind his head. She didn’t even wait for him to try to turn around to look at it before she continued. “It makes me their God,” she finished with a smug smile and gave him a wink. Spencer narrowed his eyes at her.

“She’s your intern. You’re supposed to teach her, not scare her half to death.” He sounded almost angry, despite the uncertainty in his voice. Wow, this guy really couldn’t take a joke. Leah sighed.

“Look, it’s a bit of innocent fun. We have a good relationship and we always have a little debriefing at the end of the day. She’d tell me if I was being too harsh on her,” she said. She finished the chart and put it down in the holder by the end of the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed a little. “You probably think I’m too rough on her or whatever, and sure, I probably am. But here’s the thing, and I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but she’s insecure. She needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet. She’s probably gonna lash out on me one of these days and I’m gonna be so proud of her the day she does. She’s a snowflake and she really needs to learn how to stand up for herself.” She decided it was best to just be honest with him. In all honesty she shouldn’t care what Spencer thought of her, but she did. She didn’t want him to think that she was some heartless bitch. She loved being a mentor and loved looking out for her interns. Sophie, despite all her flaws, was her favourite. Leah could see her potential, if she just worked past her insecurities she’d be a damn fine nurse one day.

“So, you’re… bullying her to make her, what, stand up for herself?” Spencer asked, surprise lacing his voice, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. That was a good thing, she guessed.

“I’m not bullying her. Just pushing her buttons a little. Call it reversed psychology or whatever. It always works.” Leah grabbed her zipup hoodie which she had draped over the chair and stuck her arms through. She shook the hood in place so it wasn’t one giant ball in the back of her neck. Spencer gave her a small smile and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn’t want to stay long enough to figure out though. “Okay, well… I’ll go see about that doctor. I’ll go get your friends in a while, so hang out and try to, I don’t know, relax I guess? Call if you need anything,” she told him, placing a gentle hand on his arm just because she could. Grabbing her coffeecup under her armpit she took a few pumps of handsanatizer on the way out. She made her way to the nursesation just as Sophie came practically running down the hall.

“Jameson’s on call right now,” She said, almost sounding out of breath. Leah wondered if she had been running all over the Goddamned hospital to figure that out.

“Okay, did you tell him to take a look at 104?” She asked and Sophie’s eyes went wide. Leah realized quickly what that meant. “No, no! Sophie, it’s okay. Seriously. I’ll go find him. Don’t worry about it,” Leah gave her a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze both her shoulders. “Did you finish your schedule yet?” She asked, knowing her interns had some kind of schedule, like a plan, they were supposed to follow.

“Uhm, well, I still have to take out the trash in 109 and I have some other small things I haven’t done yet, but-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Leah cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. She threw away her now empty papercup and hung her hoodie over the chair by the computer. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Take a break or something, get some air, whatever.” Sophie seemed a little reluctant to the idea, but nodded her head acutely.

“Would you, uhm, like me to bring you back some more coffee? Black right?” Sophie asked and Leah couldn’t help but grin at her.

“Yes, please. Take your time, though.” With that Sophie took her leave and Leah went to find Dr. Jameson to let him know that Spencer was awake and needed a quick check. She then went back to the nursingstation to check what was next on her to-do list. She finished her round rather quickly, even with Sophie’s small list of things she’d neglected to do, or hadn’t gotten around to do or for whatever other reason just hadn’t done yet. It was just minor things, so she didn’t mind. Sophie seemed to have been doing alright with everything else.

When she once again returned to the nursingstation there was a steaming papercup with her name on it, decorated with a simple smileyface. Leah smiled at that. She sat down by the computer and started documenting the most important details of the nightswatch so the morningshift would know what had gone down. Just as she was about to finish up, Sophie approached her, fidgeting a little.

“Thanks for the coffee, Sophie,” Leah told her, hoping that would ease her nervousness a little.

“Oh, no problem!” Sophie smiled. “Uhm, Jameson took a look at the good doctor in 104 and-” Leah had to cut her off with a chuckle.

“That’s what we’re calling him now?”

“Well… he hasn’t yelled at me yet for screwing up and he’s actually been kind of polite, so… I guess?” She sounded so uncertain again.

“Well, what did you screw up?” Leah wasn’t mad. Everyone made mistakes, even her, and she just needed to know if it was a major blowup she had to document or if it was a small thing that could hardly be called a mistake.

“Oh, nothing I think? I’m just really afraid of messing up,” Sophie told her, rather nonchalantly and Leah felt a little proud of her for not freaking out.

“Okay, good. Look, Sophie… You don’t have to be afraid of messing up. Everyone messes up and I won’t get mad or anything, alright? You know I’m only teasing you, right? I don’t mean anything by it.” Leah always felt good about having these heart to heart talks with Sophie.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, uhm, I’m kinda awkward, I guess.” Leah laughed at that and Sophie gave a soft chuckle as well. Good thing for her that Spencer seemed twice as awkward as her. Maybe that would help boost her confidence.

“Anyway, sorry I cut you off. What were you gonna say about the good doctor?” Leah really liked that nickname, it seemed to be suiting him.

“Oh, yeah! Uhm, Jameson said that everything seemed to be alright, but wants to keep him here under observation at least until tomorrow just to make sure. And he’s still on antibiotics four times a day and we can amp up his painkillers, but he doesn’t want any morphine.” That last part didn’t surprise her whatsoever. “And he decided to switch off the oxygen for now, but to keep it on standby just in case his saturation decreases.” That wasn’t a surprise either. Most patients receive oxygen after surgery because the anesthesia could make them sluggish and their breathing labored. Once it wears off they’d be taken off oxygen as well.

“Okay, that’s good,” Leah said, nodding along. “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah. He, uhm, wants to see his coworkers now and I told him he could only see two at a time, because that’s still the rule, right? He wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first. I guess you could get them?” Leah nodded her head and gave Sophie a pat on the back before returning to finish up her reports. It was around 6:45 A.M. when she headed out to the waiting area with her coffeecup in hand, recently refilled after she’d downed the one Sophie had brought her.

“Do I have a Hotch and J.J. for Spencer Reid?” Leah asked, scanning the waitingarea. She somehow knew the people she was looking for before they rose from their seats to come greet her. The whole group of, wow, six people practically came running for her.

“Is he okay?” One of the women, dressed in a very colorful dress and an excessive amount of accessories asked, almost screaming out. She must have been very worried. Leah noted the flowers in her hand and grimaced at the thought of having to tell her later that flowers weren’t allowed in the ICU.

“He’s fine. He’s fully awake now,” Leah tried to reassure her. “He’s given me permission to share the specifics of his condition, so I can do that now, or you can wait for the doctorsvisit later today to get some more details. He’s just been checked out by a doctor now, though, and everything seems to be alright. He’ll probably stay in the ICU until tomorrow at least before we consider moving him.” She gave them the rest of what she knew and they seemed pleased that he was doing okay. So was Leah. Bulletwounds to the abdomen were typically gnarly cases, but Spencer had been really lucky.

“Can we see him now?” The darkhaired woman asked, sounding just as worried as the other one had been just a minute ago.

“Sure, but he’s in the ICU and we only allow two visitors at a time. We’ve asked and he wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first,” Leah told them, still having no idea who the respective ones were.

“What, so I don’t get to see him?” The dark skinned man asked. He sounded angry, annoyed and frustrated, but Leah didn’t find him intimidating whatsoever, even despite the fact that he towered over her.

“As I said, only two at a time. But he can have visitors all day for all I care, so you can take turns to see him, I don’t care how you do it. But only two at a time.” She tried to sound stern, but she also had sympathy for them. They’d been worried sick all night and they probably wanted to storm his room and hug him.

“Come on! That’s a bunch of bullshit!” The man yelled, obviously getting a little agitated. Leah wanted to step forward forward, put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down or something, but before she got the chance the tall man in the suit, yes a Goddamned suit, stepped forward.

“Morgan,” He raised his hand in a stopmotion which immediately calmed the man down. “We’ll be quick. You’ll get to see him.” That seemed to do the trick because he sighed in defeat and stepped back.

“Alright then, follow me!” Leah said and turned on her heel, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. She had other things to do, not really, but she could at least pretend she did. Standing in the waitingroom and arguing with friends and family of patients was not something she wanted to spend her whole day doing.

“Wait, Sir. Can you bring him these for me?” Leah noticed that it was Flowerwoman who had spoken.

“Actually, Ma’am… flowers are not allowed in the ICU either. I’m really sorry. If we move him to another unit tomorrow, you can bring him whatever you want, but as of right now I’m gonna have to say no,” she said, turning her body to give the woman an apologetic look.

“Oh.” She sounded utterly wrecked as she uttered the simple word and it made Leah a little sad. These people cared so deeply for Spencer. How could he possibly claim they weren’t his friends?

She brought J.J,, a young woman a little taller than herself, and Hotch, the man who had calmed down the black man earlier, through the doors of the ICU. She quickly located Spencer’s room and knocked on the door a few times before entering. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see his colleagues following right behind her.

“Oh, Spence!” J.J. exclaimed, rushing over to his bed. Leah rubbed some sanitizer on her hands as she watched her bend down to give him a gentle hug. She grabbed his chart from the end of his bed again and noted down his vitals as the three of them exchanged their greetings, also reading through what the doctor had written earlier.

“Dr. Jameson was in here earlier. He explained that we’ve taken you off oxygen, right?” She hated to break up their happy reunion, but she had to give him some information before she bid her farewell. They all turned to look at her as she disposed of the chart again. “You understand that if you experience any shortness of breath, any dizzyness, anything at all you have to call, right?” She asked, looking directly at Spencer.

“Well, I’m a doctor, so, of course I understand.” His response brought a smile onto her lips.

“Well, you’re not that kind of doctor,” Leah laughed, throwing his previous words back at his face. “Do you need anything before I leave?” She asked and Spencer shook his head. “Well, if you do, don’t hesitate to call,” she told him seriously while pointing at the caller behind his head. She turned to leave when Spencer spoke up again.

“Does, uhm, does that mean I’ll be your God?” Leah was stunned a little, not fully understanding what he meant, but then she remembered how she’d previously joked about being a God to her interns. Wow, her brain was working slowly. She needed more coffee.

“Hey! Don’t push it now.” She tried to be stern, but her lips tugged upwards on their own accord. She then bid her goodbyes, shutting the door on the way out.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid x reader #mgg smut #mgg #spencer reid fluff #bau

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now?

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry.

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives.

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now.

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner.

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one.

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him.

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.”

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head.

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence.

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier.

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead.

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible.

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.”

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress.

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently.

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission.

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response.

Partially, to hide an amused smile.

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him.

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night.

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair.

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom.

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way.

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes.

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback.

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters.

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh?

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe.

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything.

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn.

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair.

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled.

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout.

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?”

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom.

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat.

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.”

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s.

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly.

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile.

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage.

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms.

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way.

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded.

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down.

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head.

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly.

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you.

Neil lowered his gun.

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?”

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed.

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face.

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil tenet #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet #robert pattinson #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #neil tenet imagine #neil x reader #smoke & mirrors #tags hate me

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whumpqhs · 5 years

Text

Whumptober alt #6: Lost

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

"Looks like he's going to make it."

The words shouldn't have made her happy. Looking down at the guard as his eyes started to blink open, she should have felt like a failure, but the shame just wouldn't come. She shifted over a little so that, still kneeling at his side, she could ease one of his heavy arms over her shoulders. Across from her, another medic did the same. They counted together, and lifted together, voices in unison: "One, two, three." Suddenly the dead body on the floor was standing and stumbling, with a lot of help, over to the nearest medical bed. Assessing him and hanging his fluids from something other than her shoulder was a fantastic way not to have to think. She knew what to do for this patient, and right now, that was all that was important.

"We need labs. CBC, CMP, and troponin and creatinine levels. Whatever you have on the formulary for an NSAID, too, in case I'm right. Looks like an MI but we need the tests to know for sure..." She helped them as they repositioned him in bed, moving him up and covering him with blankets, giving orders as if she were still back home. He was hazy, out of it. She patted his shoulder. "We've got you, man, we're doing everything possible to help you. How's your pain?"

"Re... really bad..."

"Yeah? Like what number?" She looked across the bed to the one who'd been helping her lift and transfer. "Hey, I need morpha, and a syringe."

"Here."

The way they just handed it to her should've made her uneasy. It should've signaled something, the way they trusted her. It didn't. All it signaled in that moment was that she could help her patient not hurt so much. "Pushing two units and hanging the rest as a driver, as soon as I draw off these labs—you got vials?"

"Here."

“Thanks. They don’t let me put stuff in my pockets… I don’t even know if I can chart on him, he’s a guard.”

“I’ll get it. Next time, we’ll trade, and I’ll be on his IV side, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Next time.

The effect was almost instantaneous: as she pushed the first dose, her patient started to relax, settling down. His heart rate dropped into normal limits. Sonora couldn’t contain a smile as she hung the remainder of the syringe and keyed the flow rate into his IV pump. Her mind was calm and, despite her moral objections, awash with the familiar, soft, effervescent feeling of a good code winding down. Stepping away to scrub out brought her right in front of Keeper, and she expected some kind of harsh correction as he reached toward her.

His hand settled on her shoulder, soft pressure, no pain. “Good job, Epi.”

Epi.

This was bad.

But it didn’t feel bad… it felt good. She felt like she was flying, veins rushing with adrenaline, like she was doing what she was always meant to do. Who cared about a guard? He’d finish his career in this place, especially after what looked like a massive heart attack. That was a life, wasn’t it? She saved a life.

A Republic life.

Who was he before he was a prison guard? Did he see active duty? Did he kill Imperials, like her? Whose revenge could it have been if she’d let him go? But even as they walked her down to the break room and let her get crappy junk food out of the vending machine, like a real person, she couldn’t make herself feel bad. Bad wasn’t the right word. Even later, when it started to change from a good feeling to a bad one, it wasn’t guilt that crept in. It wasn’t shame, either; it was something cold and empty.

Loneliness. She’d never felt so far from other people, so directionless and utterly lost. Who was she? She couldn’t be Republic. She couldn’t bring herself to defect, not even after saving one of theirs. Was she really Imperial anymore, after today? Did living here as a prisoner count as being under duress? Even if it did count, would Intelligence believe her that she hadn’t wanted to do it? Would they believe her when she said she regretted those compressions? How could they, when she didn’t even believe the words herself? She walked to the door of her cell and knocked, determined to get her mind off of this.

“Yeah?” It was one of the other medics this time, not a guard or an SIS agent. She recognized him: he’d been in on the code. Perfect.

“I forgot to chart something. Can I borrow a datapad?” “Forgot” was the pleasant word for how Keeper had dragged her off the floor and insisted on her getting some rest. Although, she’d slept another ten hours after he forced her to drop her charting and go, so she had to admit he was a little bit right.

“I have to watch you,” he warned.

“Yeah, of course.” She nodded, and took it when it was handed over. But as she settled down, she noticed that he wasn’t insisting on being able to see the screen. She typed in the guard’s name from before, and sighed dramatically at the lockout screen that popped up.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, you know. Access denied, all that. This is so frustrating, I forgot to get any of my documentation in… and now…”

“Here, let me see.” She handed it over to him, watching as he typed in some kind of override code and passed it back. “There you go, should work fine now.”

The guard’s chart came up without a problem. She grinned. “Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Unfortunately, charting didn’t take that long, and the loneliness came right back as soon as her mind was free. She signed off on the note, checked the lab values—the most recent round wasn’t back yet, but the initial set pointed to cardiac arrest—and was about to log out and hand it back when she noticed the treatment team listed.

Her name was there, but so were his nurses from the previous shift… his attending provider… and Keeper’s face, next to his designation, Rongeur, and a string of abbreviations. She clicked on it, and his file opened up instead. It took a lot of restraint not to gasp. Sonora carefully scrolled down, looking through the notes, commendations, letters. It all looked regular, legitimate… seamless. A little too seamless. She finally found the clue under his history, in a list of previous meds.

Dimallium 6.

Sonora frowned. Only one use for that: Castellan restraints. Conditioning. She paused, reaching out to touch the word with a fingertip. When she did, a dialogue box popped up.

Open previous encounter for this med?

She hesitated at first, but then reached out again, tapping the screen.

Yes.

Enter override code:_____________

Sonora frowned, then looked up and took a chance. “Hey, can you put that code in again? It won’t let me in the MAR.”

For one terrifying moment, as she handed him the datapad and let him put in the code, she realized what a terrible mistake she’d made. It could all be over, her entire life, and for what?—to look up his records? Why, when he was the enemy?

...but was he really the enemy? She had to know.

“Here, should work, it looked like it took the code.” She had to stifle a sigh of relief as he handed it back without really looking.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“I thought I saw the dose in the MAR already,” he said.

“I charted against the override. Had to fix it.”

A little sound of acknowledgement and a half-said “Ah yeah that’s annoying” was the extent of his protest. She peered into the encounter, eyes scanning, fingertips tapping to make it look like she was working on the MAR. But when she finally found the notes from the conditioning, her hand slowed. The notes were in reverse order, working backwards into the past with the most recent ones first: progress updates following his rehabilitation, implantation of new memories… and down at the bottom, she found a brief AAR about his capture… but nothing about him defecting. Frowning, Sonora worked back up from the AAR, going over everything again. Had she missed one?

She finally found the answer that she was terrified of, in the transcript from his last interrogation.

---

SIS: Last chance, Vael. You can tell us everything you know, or we’ll start cutting off fingers.

PRISONER: Do it. I don’t care.

SIS: You know you’re the sole survivor, right? All the other agents, they’re gone.

PRISONER: Like I believe that.

[Electroshock applied. Several deep cuts made to abdomen. No new information.]

SIS: What’s so special about them that you won’t talk? Even when you’re here for life, even with them dead?

PRISONER: That’s… my team… I’m… the medic… gotta take care of them.

SIS: They’re gone, Vael! They’re dead. What’s stopping you?

PRISONER: Because… th-they’re my… family. I love… them… and even... even if they’re gone, I... I... I’m not gonna l-let them down.

SIS: Oh, you’re gonna let them down, Vael. You just don’t know it yet.

[Session terminated. Will begin selective treatment with dimallium immediately. Keyword to reverse conditioning in case of emergency: Aurek Five System Yellow Seventeen.]

---

For a little while, she sat quietly, rereading the note. Then rereading it again. Memorizing the code. Finally, she backed out of the chart and handed it to the man at the door.

“Hey, it freaked out on me or something. Started opening a bunch of other pages, I had to shut it off. I’ll finish charting tomorrow.”

He nodded, tucking the datapad away as she turned back to her bed, stretching out. As she drifted to sleep, the words from the code echoed in her mind:

What could I have done to save one of mine?

#whumptober2019 #altno.6 #lost #emotional whump #torture mention #Bitter Medicine #swtor #imperial agent

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zoekennaargeluk · 6 years

Text

When I was 15 years old, I ran away from home because I was pissed off at my parents for a reason I cant remember. I didnt have much money, so I decided to hop onto the skytrain(public transport train in British Columbia) and ride it as far as it would go. I reached the end of the line in less then an hour, and decided I wanted to ride it all the way back again, while trying to formulate some kind of plan of how I wanted to live the rest of my life without my parents or anyone. At the last stop, or the first stop depending on your perspective of it, a girl came on and sat in the row right behind me. I didnt pay much attention to her at first, as I was busy writing my life plan on a napkin. It was a few minutes later that she got up and came sat next to me, curious as to what I was writing. I told her the story, and after a few laughs, we began talking about everything and anything. Her name was Amanda, 17 years old, and absolutely wonderful. She told me she was getting off at the last stop, which was also the first stop, depending on how you look at it. It was also the stop I had gotten on originally, and I told her we would ride to it together. The train ride took less then an hour, and what a wonderful hour indeed.

When the last stop did come, we both knew we probably wouldnt see each other ever again(this was before the days of cellphones, and I was a shy little kid afraid to make moves). As we got to the end of the sidewalk which split in two different directions, she went right and I went left. Before saying goodbye she turned to me and asked me a question that has become a wonderful part of my life; she asked me, “Tell me something you have done, or want to do, that you think I should do? It can be anything, as challenging as you want it to be, or as easy. As long as you give me the rest of my life to complete it, I promise I will do it..” I was confused as to why, but I thought about it, and told her, “Sing a song acapella in a room full of strangers.” She said perfect and asked me if I would like a challenge as well. I told her I did, and she told me, “read, from start to finish, “Ulysses” by James Joyce.” I had never heard of it at the time, but I agreed, and we said our goodbyes.

I have a awful memory, and cant remember most conversations I have with most people. But I remember all of that clearly. You know why? Because of the challenge she gave me. In the 12 years that have past since, I have tried to read that book in over 150 different sittings. Everytime I open my copy of the 780 page monster of a book, I always think of her, and I always think of that day. Ive never been sure if it was her intent or not, but she left her lasting memory on me with that challenge. I soon after learned what she did, was a completey wonderful and amazing thing for me. So I decided to keep it going. Ive met a lot of strangers in my life; some that have become friends, and some, due to living in different time zones and whatnot, didnt. I dont want to just have experiences and then let them go. I want to remember these meetings, and embrace the fact that they happened. So whenever I leave someone who has left an amazing impact of my life, I always make sure to add them to my Ulysses Bucket List. I ask them to give me a challenge, as difficult or as easy as they want it to be, and regardless of the fact that they have done it or not; simply something their heart has had wanted to do.

Some have been easy and fun; I met a man in India 9 years ago who told me to, for a week or a month, cook/buy twice as much food as I intend on eating, and give the other half to a stranger in need. I completed that mission 8 years ago, and thought about that man and the time we had all the way through. I met a girl on a cruise 6 years ago, who told me to jump into a body of water on a slightly cold day, without touching or feeling the temperature of the water first. I did that the very same year. I met a couple at an outdoor music festival a few years ago that told me to wear the most bizarre outfit imaginable and walk through a public place, completely oblivious to the fact that you arent looking normal. I did that task the very next day, at the same festival. Some have been difficult, to say the least: three guys I met in Amsterdam and smoked all night with, told me to go to a mall and give 10 strangers 10 presents. That one took a lot of courage, but I did it a year or so after I met them. It was nerve racking, but at the same time exhilerating leaving my comfort zone. A girl I met on a plane told me to sky dive; Im still in the process of getting that done. A couple I met in Cali on the beach told me to tell the 5 people I hated the most, that I love them and respect them. That one was very difficult because of my stubborness, but ive come close to completing that list many a times(still in the process, 2 more people to go).

And some things, have had an everlasting impact on my daily life. I met a girl at a music festival, who told me that whenever I get mad at someone, walk away, sing my happy song in my head for 5 minutes, go back to the person im mad at with a clam heart and mind, and work things out. Ive made this my way of life. I once met a man at a gym in a hotel I was staying at, that told me “whenever your body and brain tells your that you are exhausted and done…use your heart instead and push out 2 more reps.” Ive made this my motto when working out or working on any kind of extrenuating exercise in which my body demands me to quit. I also use it while working on anything, and while studying. One of the best pieces of advice ive ever received.

There are many others that each brought joy to my life. There are still many tasks I have yet to accomplish, and everytime I think of these tasks, I think of the people that gave them to me. It amazes me how well I remember all these people, while I cant remember so many aspects of even yesterday. These experiences, not only do I take from them a “mission” or a “challenge”, I also take from them a memory of them that never fails to appear inside of my mind. I opened my Ulysses book for probably the 300th time yesterday, and read a few pages, which prompted me to share this story with you today. Im in the final 30 pages of the book, also known as the most dreaded of the read(in the last 40 pages or so, James Joyce doesnt use a single punctuation mark; no periods, no commas, no nothing; a straight 50 page run-on sentence).

I never saw Amanda after that day, nor do I know if she ever did get a chance to sing a song to a room full of strangers. But what I do know, is that she gave me a gift that has never once stopped giving. So wherever you may be, thank you for giving me the Ulysses Bucket List. And I swear i’ll finish it one day. My life advice? Simple: Create your own Ulysses bucket list.

Edit 1:fixed some spelling mistakes. Going to leave 'clam' as is, haha!

Edit 2: Ulyssesbucketlist subreddit is now a thing!

Edit 3: I'm trying to reply to all of your comments and give everyone who asks for their own challenge! Please bare with me, I'll get to you I promise!

Edit 4: Monday 5/19/2014 UPDATE: I'm kind of lacking words at the moment, and am in awe of the power of the universe. Writing this story was just to relive a moment in my life, and to share it with others and maybe help them in some sort of way(or just give an entertaining story to read). Never did I think there was the slightest chance I would actually get to talk to her again. But thats exactly what happened. Last night I found out that the Amanda that ThatGuyWhoAte knew, was in fact the Amanda I met 14 years ago. Thank you Reddit. From the bottom of my heart, I give to you the sincerest Thank You I can possibly give. You gave me a chance to continue a life story that stopped writing 14 years ago. I will never forget this.

A thing on reddit i thought was really cool.

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theafternoonroom · 4 years

Text

bed 26

I'm not entirely sure what I'm waiting for.

The nurse has stuck her head through the door once—no, maybe twice or three times—to tell us that the patient has coughed up a lot of blood, and that his blood pressure was crashing.

Not quite enough to make my seniors rush to his bedside. He was a DNR Maxward patient with terminal cancer and multiple cormorbidities, both physical and emotional. Estranged from his family, I hadn't seen any next of kin by his bedside in the whole time that I'd been posted to the ward. And he'd always been a little difficult. We had tried to speak to him multiple times during this admission, only for him to turn his back against us or close his eyes, a clear signal that our one-sided monologues was over.

As we wrap up our exit rounds and walk from the MO room to bed 26, I'm barely thinking about the patient. My brain is caught in the rush towards MBBS and I run through the causes of hemoptysis in my head. First thing to do—rule out any coagulopathies (I had learnt that the hard way by embarrassing myself in a tutorial). My thoughts are interrupted by the resident, frustrated about how she had tried to page for the granddaughter multiple times to no avail. I offer to try again.

I punch the numbers in mechanically, before realizing that I had no idea what to say. Sure, I had updated families before. Your dad is going for this scan, your mother is doing great in the wards - you can bring her home tomorrow!—nothing about how your loved one only has a few hours left to live; please come to the hospital now to say goodbye.

I call the resident over and tell her that when I reach the granddaughter I'll pass the phone over, for a real doctor to handle these sensitive, often painful, end of life issues. She declines and proceeds to give me a summary of everything I should tell the patient. How we think he's not going to make it through the night, how we're doing everything we can to keep him comfortable, how they should make plans to come down immediately. Her voice is muffled in the background, distant, and I realize that I knew exactly what to say, I just...didn't know how to say it.

The phone rings for what seems like an eternity and I'm torn between praying she won't pick up and hoping she does, because this is the last chance she has to say goodbye. But she does, and I soften my voice to tell her the news. I trip over pronouncing a word and there is heavy silence from the other end. Before I can mentally beat myself up for the nerves that have caused me to stumble, I hear her promise that she’ll be there right away.

My only task is now done. And I’m left with nothing to do but to stand around and be a space-occupying lesion. (I should have been used to it at this point, 5 years into medical school, to be honest.) The consultant is long gone. The resident thanks me for the help (I've done nothing?) and leaves the ward to hand over the case to the on-call. "A sickie," they say. "Won't last the night."

I gently tug the curtain back to see the staff nurse standing by the patient, hands busy with fresh sheets, clothes, and pillows. I almost choke. The smell of fresh blood and sputum is heavy in the air. And I see him, lying there, in a puddle of his own blood, fading in and out of consciousness, gasping for air.

I step inside the cubicle and pretend to fiddle with the IV drip. It's late and I should be on my way home, but I don't want to leave. Not just yet. I have absolutely no clue what the protocol is, what I'm supposed to do for a man that is dying, but I know if it were me, I wouldn't want to be left in a pool of my own blood. So I tell the sister I'll help her tidy him up. She's surprised, but grateful.

I've never been good with managing my emotions. Somewhere in between finding wet wipes to clean his blood-stained cheek and arranging his black, tattered shoes neatly by his bed, I found myself struggling to keep from crying. I tried to ask if he was comfortable, but my throat was tight, and I had to do it twice before he understood what I was asking.

If you have ever seen a completely immobile patient being dressed, you would know that it is an incredibly uncomfortable process. Joints bent at awkward angles, face squashed against the sides of the bed at times, it takes some maneuvering skills to prevent catheters and IV lines from being dislodged. I hold the patient on his side as the staff nurse changes the sheets and removes the soiled linen, and repeat to him, "Don't worry; it'll be over in a moment." It was only after that I wondered if he knew I was talking about the dressing, not about his time left.

The nurse leaves to get a larger set of clothes and for a moment, it's just him and me and the IV drip machine beeping steadily in the background. I reach out to hold his hand and ask him if he can hear me. His eyes are closing and opening, and rolling up at times, but he weakly nods and I'm satisfied. I don't know what to do, so I pray for him, quickly and quietly, and stroke his head. He doesn't have much hair left, but whatever he has is neatly parted. I try not to muss it up. The nurse returns with more clothes and tells me to throw the dirty linen on the floor. We'll clean it up later.

We finish the dressing too quickly, and I'm left again with my empty, fidgety hands and a dying patient. I still don't have the heart to leave, so I wander into the nurses' station and find myself in front of a computer. I pretend to type and tidy the clinical notes, but I'm really just counting his breaths and watching every movement he makes. He coughs again, a chesty, deep rumble that sounds painful and exhausting. He's trying to cough up the blood that's flooding his lungs, but his effort is so weak that nothing comes up.

The granddaughter calls again. The staff nurse pages for me and I answer. She sounds like she's rushing. "Could you please tell him L and E are coming?" Her voice breaks a little as she speaks (and if I am honest, my heart broke a little too).

I go to his bedside, satisfied that I had found another excuse to sit with him, and take his hand. "Your granddaughters are coming, uncle, just hold on a while more. Just a little while more, they're on their way." His eyes open at the mention of their names and there's a stray tear. I wonder when was the last time he saw them. I repeat this again and again, gently, stroking his frail hand, hoping and praying that he understood what I was saying. O God, please let him last the next few minutes until his family comes.

They make it before he goes.

I go to find my resident, but she's long gone. "Handed over to the on-call already," one of the MOs tells me, "Why are you still here anyway?" I don't have a good answer. "One of our patients isn't doing too well and I wanted to make sure he was okay." My statement hangs in the air for a while, before she shrugs and turns back to her computer, to complete the stack of changes she has to finish before home STAT. In that moment, I feel silly for staying so long; why stay when you need to rest before another long day tomorrow? Not to mention, there was really nothing I could have done to improve his care. Another overenthusiastic student that doesn't treasure their student life.

I check the bus timings—I've got 5 mins to get down to the bus stop if I want to catch the next bus home. I think I can make it if I pick up my pace. I pack up my things and find my half-finished cup of bubble tea from lunch. Having left the cubicle, the sights, smells, sounds of death seem like a distant memory and the events of the past few hours fade. I suddenly remember that I'm hungry and tired from the day, wanting nothing more than to leave the hospital and go home for a cold shower. And dammit, I have to be up so early tomorrow...and I've forgotten that I need to finish studying chapters—

I catch myself mid-thought.

Perhaps the most dangerous thing that could happen to a healthcare professional isn't the sick patient that could desaturate at any moment. Maybe it isn't even the silent myocardial infarctions in our elderly and diabetics. Perhaps it's our tendency to forget. Caught between the 5am mornings and the long call hours, we often don't stop to hold death by its shoulders and stare into its cold eyes for long enough to remember what it feels like to be a victim, to imagine what it feels like to have our hourglasses slowly draining away. Our tendency to forget that for many of our patients, that is their reality.

We are all slaves to time. The clock that ticks mercilessly waits for no man and with every second, we march nearer to the same final destination. Perhaps I'll see bed 26 there one day. But for now, I have a bus to catch.

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fight-till-u-cant-fight-anymore · 7 years

Text

Life is fragile but still beautiful Part X

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

I’m very sorry I kept you all waiting but hopefully I’m back at writing now. I’m hoping it’s my last busy week for now, so I should be able to write more.

“Excuse me. Where can I find the OR board?” Owen asked one nurse. “I have privileges here thanks to Dr. King. I was paged to scrub in with the latest patient who was brought here.” He lied.

“Oh, I know where they're operating. It's OR 2, you can find the clothes next to it too. I can show you if you want.”

“Thank you, I'm good. I've been in that OR once.” Owen smiled politely.

Owen ran to the elevator and rode on the OR floor. He found the OR and saw clearly it was Amelia. Owen tried hard to not break down.

He watched them working on her brain when she started crashing. Owen couldn't watch it any longer and turned his back. He leaned on the wall and sat down while sobbing took over him.

Owen didn't notice Charlotte running towards him.

She looked in the OR and the sadness took over her but she had to be strong. Strong for Owen.

“Oh, Owen.” Charlotte sighed and went down on Owen's level. “Come on. We can't be here. You know the hospital rules.”

Owen just sobbed because he can't lose her.

Charlotte hugged him tightly and pet his head. She could feel Owen's arms coming around her and holding onto her while his sobbes went louder.

“Shh, Owen. Amelia will be okay. They're about to close her up. Come on, we should go and wait the doctor in the waiting area.”

They broke their hug and Owen said while his tears still hadn't stopped. “I can't lose her, Charlotte. I just can't”

“I know. I can't either.” Charlotte told sadly. “Let's go.”

They walked in the waiting area where everyone else were sitting. Owen took a seat next to Addison who squeezed his hand. She looked at him and smiled sadly.

—————-

In half an hour the doctor finally came to update them.

“Dr. Shepherd is out of surgery and recovering. We stopped the bleeding in her brain and it went well. Although she coded once on the table.” The neurosurgeon said, who had operated on Amelia.

“When can we see her?” Owen asked.

“Right now. I can show you the way.”

“Thanks.” Owen started following the doctor. Others were right behind him.

“This is her room.” The doctor said.

Owen stood there for a second and then opened the door. Everyone else stayed outside to give them privacy.

“When she'll wake up?” Charlotte asked.

“We don't know that. We did CPR for minutes, so I can't tell how much is left or if she'll wake up. All we can do right now is just to wait and give her time.”

“Thank you. For saving her.” Addison thanked the surgeon.

“I'll come to check on her soon.” The doctor said and left.

Charlotte tried hard to hold back her tears. Cooper guided her to sit on one of the chairs and held her tightly with one arm around her. He knew she had given in and was sobbing now quietly. Elbows resting on her knees and hands covering her face.

“It’s all my fault. I wasn’t looking at the road. It was only a second but I caused another accident. I might’ve killed her. She might never wake up.”

“Charlotte, no. It’s not your fault. It was an accident. You know what Amelia would tell you right now?” Addison got down on her level, like all the grown ups do for kids. “She would say that it was an accident and you didn’t mean to. I know she would because she said the same thing to a little boy who had shot his friend by accident.” Addison said.

—————-

After 15 minutes Charlotte dried her eyes and tried to get her breathing back to normal. “Where are the kids?”

“We called Mason. He’s staying with the triplets and Henry for tonight.” Violet answered.

“Okay.” Charlotte told weakly.

“Should we find an on-call room?” Cooper tried to ask slowly because he knew Charlotte will definitely refuse going home.

“No.” She said but it didn't sound like her. “I'll go check on Owen.” Charlotte stood up and walked slowly to the door. She knocked few times, so Owen would know someone is coming.

—————-

When Owen opened the door and stepped in, his heart sank. Amelia looked too bale and so fragile. He leaned on the door again to fight back to another break down.

Owen stared Amelia for a couple of minutes before he went to sit next to her. He touched her right hand softly like he was afraid to break her. Owen lifted Amelia’s hand up to press his lips on it. This time he couldn't fight back and let the sobbing take over him.

When Owen opened the door and stepped in, his heart sank. Amelia looked too bale and so fragile. He leaned on the door again to fight back to another break down.

—————-

Owen didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a quiet knocking on the door. He lifted his head up, which he had rested on her arm when he sobbed hard.

Charlotte didn't say anything. She walked on the other side of the bed and sat down. Charlotte stroked Amelia's arm softly.

“I’m so sorry. I just…”

“It’s not your fault. It was an accident, you didn’t mean to.” Owen repeated what Amelia had told him once.

“I’ve heard that phrase already. From Addison.” Charlotte said. “The doctor said they don't know when she'll wake up and he should also do a check up on her soon.” Charlotte broke the silence.

“Okay.” Owen said but it didn't sound like him at all.

They sat there in silence till the doctor came and did all the tests. He said everything is normal but probably Amelia's body is taking her time to heal.

“I should call Meredith and Maggie. Meredith was Derek’s wife and Maggie is her sister and they all live together, so I guess they should now.” Owen said and took his phone out to call Meredith.

“Right.” Charlotte nodded.

—————-

“Maggie here you are.” Meredith found her standing by the OR board. “Come with me, please.”

“ What’s going on? I have a surgery.” Meredith pulled Maggie to the closest on-call room.

“It’s Amelia. Owen just called and said that she was in an accident with her friend.”

“Omg, is she okay?”

“She’s in a coma. She had hit her head and the airbag didn’t open. Amelia had a brain surgery where she had coded once. Owen didn’t remember for how long.”

Maggie sat on the bed and sighed. “What should we do now?”

“Well, Owen told me he’ll call when she wakes up and will update us.” Meredith sat next to Maggie. “Let’s not tell the kids, okay? Just not yet. We’ll tell them when Amelia is back.”

“Okay.”

—————-

Owen and Charlotte left Amelia’s bedside only for a quick bathroom. Everyone else had visited Amelia many times but they were also needed at home or work.

When Owen woke up after another sleepless night. He looked at Amelia, who hadn't moved still. He sighed and squeezed her hand.

Charlotte had been sleeping on the couch that night. They had a deal that if one of them needed to sleep or use the bathroom the other one will stay with Amelia.

“Morning.” Charlotte stood up and walked back to Amelia's side. “You didn't wake me.”

“I couldn't sleep and it seemed like you needed one, so I didn't bother to wake you. She was stable all night though and didn't show any signs that she’ll…” Owen sighed. He now indeed was tired from those 5-15 minutes power naps he had all night long.

“You should use the couch. I'll be next to her.” Charlotte said politely.

Owen hesitated. “Owen, sleep.” Charlotte said more clearly.

“Okay. But wake me in few hours or if she'll…”

“I will, Owen.” Charlotte smiled to him and turned back to Amelia.

—————-

In 20 minutes there was a soft knocking on the door. Addison walked in and said quietly. “Hey, my shift just ended, so I thought to come check on her.”

“There's still no change.” Charlotte sighed. “The doctor should be coming by soon too.”

Addison sat on the chair where Owen had sat and looked at the sleeping guy. “He’s definitely worn out.”

“Yeah, it's not easy for any of us. Amelia just… she has to come back.”

“I know.” Addison took Charlotte's hand over Amelia's body and squeezed it.

—————-

After the doctor had done a check up and left, Charlotte was the only one awake. Addison had rested her head on Amelia's bed and was now asleep. Charlotte also didn't want to wake Owen yet because she knew he needed sleep too, like all of them did.

“Come on, Amelia. You have to wake up. It's been a week already. You can't leave us. We're junkies together, remember?” Charlotte said quietly trying not to wake others and took Amelia's hand.

“I saw you and Owen together. He needs you. We all were sceptic about you two but now.” Another sigh. “After seeing you with him and spending all those days with him for waiting you to wake up, I see the real thing between you too. He loves you back as much as you love him. So, you can't waste another second laying here in this bed. In this stupid coma. When this guy is waiting for you. Amelia, he loves you.” Charlotte whispered the last sentence in Amelia's ear and pet her head. Feeling a tear rolling down her cheek which she wiped off fast.

Charlotte sat back to her chair and sighed loudly again. She held Amelia's hand and closed her eyes.

—————-

Charlotte could feel a movement against her hand but first she was thinking it was nothing because she was between the awake and sleeping state. When she felt it again Charlotte opened her eyes and was met with Amelia's teary blue ones.

“Omg, Amelia. You're awake. It's okay, you're in the hospital. We got into a car accident and you've been in a coma since the last week. Owen is right here too, I'll…” Charlotte wanted to stand up and go wake Owen put Amelia grabbed her hand.

“Charlotte… I can't feel my legs.” Amelia said tears falling from her eyes now.

#LifeIsFragileButStillBeautiful #omelia #amelia and owen #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #private practice #grey's anatomy

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sariasprincy · 7 years

Text

Where it Happened iv - ItaSaku

Part i Part ii Part iii Part iv (here) Part v

Where it Happened part iv

The gallery was silent with the exception of the soft whispers of residents and the scratch of Itachi's pen. Periodically he would flicker his dark gaze up from his chart to peer into the operating room below as Haruno Sakura performed her scheduled mitral valve repair. She worked swiftly but precisely as she both operated and taught their new, transfer resident. Itachi believed her name was Hyuuga Hanabi. She was the younger cousin to Hyuuga Neji, the hospital's Head of Neurology, but he hadn't interacted with the young women and didn't know any more about her than the rumors that were circulating.

Besides it was the attending not the resident that had drawn him to the gallery.

"Dammit."

The sudden curse in the OR below drew Itachi's gaze again. Sakura was staring at the open heart below her with a frustrated pinch to her brows. Her hands worked purposefully as she withdrew her stitches and maneuvered the surgical tools to give herself a better view of the valve.

She shook her head and cursed softly again. "The cords are more damaged than the scans showed."

"There's no sign of heart disease in her file. What could cause this much damage?" Hanabi asked.

"Given the patient's age and medical history, she probably had some type of trauma in the past," Sakura explained as she continued to work.

"Then why wasn't this caught before?"

Sakura briefly glance up at her. "Probably because either she didn't get herself checked out or her previous doctors didn't think to look for it."

Itachi closed his chart as he watched their exchange silently. Sakura continued to try for a few more minutes until she eventually gave up and withdrew her medical tools. "This repair isn't going to work. We're going to have to do a complete replacement."

"I'll prep for a mechanical valve," Hanabi said obediently.

"No," Sakura stopped her. Even from the gallery, Itachi could see her thoughts turning over in her head and after a moment's pause, she gave her orders. "Prep for a porcine valve."

The confusion in Hanabi's gaze reflected his own but Itachi merely sat quietly and continued to monitor her surgery as the observing residents a few seats down from him whispered their own questions about her decision. It was a curious choice – one he didn't think he would make personally – but his attention turned away from the operation as his pager sounded. He was needed in the ER for a consult.

Pushing himself to his feet, Itachi gazed down at the surgery for a moment longer before he turned away and headed out.

It was nearly three hours later when he ran into Sakura again. Itachi was half-paying attention to those around him as he texted Shisui before his best friend began a nine-hour facial reconstruction surgery. He was just slipping his phone into his pocket when he heard her voice from inside an ICU room: "I want you to monitor her for the next twenty-four hours. Keep an eye on her BP and make sure to run Coags every few hours to ensure we don't have any blood clots."

Itachi vaguely heard Hanabi's acceptance before Sakura exited the room and made her way towards the nurses' station where he was standing. She tossed him a quick smile before she flipped open her chart and began updating the file. Her surgical cap was still pulled over her pale pink locks and unconsciously Itachi found himself studying her as he recalled her decision during her surgery. It had all but escaped him in the rush of the ER, but seeing her now freshly scrubbed reminded him of what he had witnesses earlier that morning.

"Why did you decide to use a porcine valve?"

Sakura looked up from her chart, her brow arched in surprise at his line of questioning. "Because she's a thirty-two-year-old woman."

"Exactly," Itachi nodded. "Would her age not make her more suitable for a mechanical valve?"

A strange expression crossed her face, one he didn't recognize, and after a moment's hesitation, she turned to face him fully. "Woman was actually the part I was trying to emphasize. Had I used a mechanical valve, she would have been forced to use blood-thinners the rest of her life; which means if she chooses to become pregnant not only will it potentially cause problems for the baby, but it can endanger her life during childbirth," she explained. "So I chose a pig valve to decrease those risks."

"Porcine valves are known to deteriorate."

"And if it does, then she came come back and we can reassess whether to do another porcine or a mechanical valve."

He didn't miss the defensive tone in her voice, but it was her reasoning that he found far more interesting. He hadn't considered the possibility of the patient's desire to engage in parenthood but the fact Sakura had considered it and weighed the decision while in the middle of surgery left him impressed. He was both unable and unwilling to further engage in a professional debate with her.

"Okay then," he nodded.

The same look crowded her expression but she said nothing as she turned away and continued writing within her chart. He got the vague impression he had offended her, but his line of questioning hadn't been without justification. Sakura was an incredibly smart surgeon and obviously conscious of her patient's desires given her decision within her surgery; however, the fact still remained that the operation today would still cause later complications for the young woman later in life. He just wanted to understand her reasoning for performing what some may consider a questionable call. He trusted Sakura's judgement. But it was still his department.

"I have a trauma coming up from the ER," Itachi said, breaking their tension. "I am aware you just finish surgery, but would you care to join me?"

Sakura glanced at him again and pursed her lips as she considered his offer, but just like every surgeon, it was hard to stay out of the OR and eventually she relented. "Fine. What room?"

Itachi bit back his smirk. "OR 3."

"I'll see you there."

It seemed there was one way to stay on her good side.

Sakura's less than pleasant mood showed as she speared one of the many carrots in her salad with more force than necessary. Across the cafeteria table, Ino and Tenten eyed her as she shoved the vegetable in her mouth before she repeated the motion.

"What's your problem?" Ino asked.

Sakura sighed heavily as she sat back in her chair. "Hades is back on his throne."

"Who is Hades?"

Tenten's brow furrowed in confusion. "Like the God of the Underworld, Hades?"

Sakura nodded before she stabbed another vegetable. "Lord and Ruler of the damned and tortured souls."

"Oh, I see," Ino murmured. There was an amused look on her gorgeous face. "We're talking about Uchiha, aren't we? What happened to Sir-Glaresalot?"

"He overheard that one from a nurse," the Cardiac Surgeon explained. She set her fork down, knowing she was too riled up to not keep prodding her food out of frustration. "And this one's more fitting, but that's not the point. My point is he's been standing over my shoulder at every single one of my surgeries this week. I feel like I have a babysitter in the OR with me."

"Hence the tortured soul," Tenten muttered.

Sakura shot her a look while Ino bit back her laugh. "All I know is if I have to spend another five hours in a surgery with him, I'm going to explode."

Across from her, Ino smirked. "At least you get to stare at that face for five hours."

"Not really. It's hidden behind a mask. And besides, are his looks all you see?"

The blonde merely shrugged. "Well you still get to look at those stunning eyes. And that's all I have to see. It's not like he's my boss."

"Feel free to trade me," Sakura countered.

Ino slapped her hand on the table. "Done."

Sakura snorted as Tenten laughed behind her burger. The brunette made a sarcastic remark but it fell on deaf ears as Sakura's pager sounded. She was needed in the Emergency Room immediately.

"Gotta go."

Pushing back from the table, Sakura stood and shoved one last mouthful of salad into her mouth before she ran through the hospital and towards the ER. Upon her arrival, a nurse directed her into a trauma room. Inside, Kakashi and Hanabi were already fast at work as the patient between them coughed up another mouthful of blood and spat it into a hospital bin.

"Where the hell is Cardio?"

"Right here," Sakura answered as she pulled on gloves. "What do we have?"

Kakashi didn't even pass her a glance. "Fifty-year-old female with chest pain. It started about forty minutes ago. She started coughing up blood about thirty."

Immediately Sakura reached for her stethoscope as she stepped up to their patient. "How much blood has she lost?"

"About a liter," Hanabi answered.

She pressed the metal disk to the patient's chest, but before she could listen, an awful sound rose from the woman's throat as she once again let out a wet, painful cough. Quickly Sakura released her equipment as she moved to help support her. "Do we have a portable ultrasound down here?"

"I have it here," Hanabi informed her.

Kakashi readily took Sakura's place in assisting the woman before she accepted the device from her resident. As soon as their patient was relaxed back against the bed again, Hanabi applied gel to the woman's chest before Sakura began her scan. She vaguely listened to Kakashi as he began asking for more details about her current condition, but her attention quickly zoned in on the ultrasound as she began to get an idea of exactly what they were dealing with.

"We need to get to an OR," Sakura ordered abruptly.

She withdrew the ultrasound and set it on a tray before she began prepping the patient to move. Kakashi glanced up at her. "What are we dealing with?"

"It's a ruptured aortic aneurysm."

Hanabi's eyes widened. "Can I scrub in?"

"It's all hands on deck. Call down to the OR and make sure they're ready for us," Sakura said as she continued to set up for transport. She chewed the inside of her lip before adding, "And page Dr. Uchiha."

"Yes, Dr. Haruno."

Hanabi raced out of the room in her excitement, missing the look Kakashi sent Sakura's way. She ignored him, not entirely sure how he always seemed to know everything, before they finally left the trauma room.

It was a rush down to the OR. As quickly and clearly as possible, Sakura explained to their patient what was happening, but the woman was barely alert and responsive, and by the time they arrive she was nearly unconscious. Sakura gave her orders to the surgical nurses waiting for them in the hallway and obediently they took her into the room to prep. With a wish of good luck, Kakashi returned to the ER before Sakura headed into the scrub room. Hanabi was already there and together they tied their masks into place and scrubbed before they entered the operating room.

A nurse greeted Sakura with a gown and she quickly stepped into it before they tied it into place for her. As soon as she was situated, she stepped up to the patient just as the door slid open again. "Someone paged me."

She glanced up at Itachi. He was staring at her expectantly from behind his mask as he dried his hands with a sterile towel. "I did," she said. "A ruptured aortic aneurysm came into the ER."

His brow arched curiously. "You're certain?"

A sudden burn of annoyance rippled through her but she fought to ignore it as he turned away to accept the surgical gown from one of the nurses. "Yes, I'm certain. That's why you're here."

"Okay then. Go ahead and start. I will catch up."

For the umpteenth time that week, Sakura bit her tongue to keep her thoughts behind her teeth. Instead she held her hand out to the scrub nurse as she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. "Ten blade."

It was going to be another one of those surgeries.

For hours they worked. Itachi and Hanabi helped clamp the artery and suction blood out of the way as she did her best to sew the graft into place. After her third failed attempt, she sighed heavily out her nose and cursed softly. "Dammit. This isn't holding. We're going to have to do something else."

"Perhaps-?"

"It's not holding," Sakura repeated sharply before he could offer his help.

She met Itachi's gaze over the table and immediately regretted the words. Behind his mask, she was unable to read his expression and she inwardly chastised herself for allowing her frustrations to get the better of her, but she withheld her apology. Their patient was still in danger and they were running out of options.

"Can we try clamping higher?" Hanabi suggested.

Next to her, Itachi shook his head. "We are already at the superior mesenteric artery."

"Her aorta keeps tearing. There's no place left to even sew the graft on to," Sakura said as she pulled the equipment out and handed it back to the nurse.

Hanabi looked between the two surgeons. "So what do we do?"

Neither of them answered as Sakura stared down at the open chest cavity. Their patient was still losing blood and they were nowhere closer to finding an answer than when they first opened her. For the first time in a long time, Sakura was stuck. It left a hard lump in the bottom of her stomach but she refused to give up as she quickly searched through her memory for anything – any case or study or something – that could help them.

Adrenaline flooded her system as an article she had read her first year as a resident suddenly came to mind. "What if we divide the renal vein?"

Even with his mask, she could see Itachi's doubt. "She has already lost a lot of blood."

"If we continue to do nothing, she'll just lose more."

He didn't immediately answer as he considered his decision. It weighed on the room and pressed down onto her, almost suffocating in its intensity, as he met her gaze evenly - until Itachi finally nodded and turned to the scrub nurse. "Scalpel."

With his better positioning, Sakura didn't argue as she held out her own hand. "Clamp."

And together, they fought like hell.

By the time Sakura stepped out of surgery, over five hours had passed since their patient originally arrived in the ER. She was tired and her back ached between her shoulder blades from hunching over, but there was a smile on her face as she watched an ICU nurse double check the woman's IV's and fluids. Next to her, Hanabi held a hand to her face as she smothered her yawn.

"I want her monitored for the next twenty-four hours," Sakura ordered her. "Check her Coags every hour as well as her Swan-Ganz catheter. If anything is even a little abnormal, I want to hear about it."

The young resident accepted her orders before she wondered into the patient's room. Sakura watched her go before she headed towards the nurses' station. Itachi was already there updating the patient's chart but he glanced up at her in greeting before he continued writing. "I must say that was quite a surgery. It has been a long time since I divided a renal vein. Even longer in an emergent surgery."

"You think I was being risky?" Sakura asked. She couldn't keep her defensiveness from her tone.

Itachi stopped writing to look at her. "I think that in another situation it would have been. But this one, it was necessary."

As if that explanation was enough, he returned to the chart. Silently Sakura eyed him, her lips pursed together in annoyance, as he finished the chart and handed it off to a nurse before he turned and made his way out of the ICU. For a moment, she simply watched him leave but her impulse got the better of her and hurriedly she dashed after him.

The moment she caught up to him, she hooked her hand inside his elbow and spun him into the nearest conference room. His expression reflected his bewilderment, but she didn't give him the chance to speak as she crossed her arms. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on? You have been critical and judgmental of my decisions ever since my valve replacement earlier this week. Do you think I'm a danger to my patients or something? Do you think I'm incompetent?"

Silence met her angry words. Itachi stared at her, his surprise gone and replaced by something she couldn't quite name. Immediately she recognized how gravely she had overstepped, and almost as quickly as it had come, her anger cooled. She swallowed hard as the room suddenly felt small with their close proximity and her heart pounded in her chest as she steeled herself for the consequences of her compulsion.

But then he did the last thing she had expected. He snorted.

Stunned, Sakura opened her mouth but it took her a moment to find her voice. "And what the hell is so funny?"

Itachi didn't immediately answer her as he appeared to compose himself. There was a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth that only furthered her confusion but he suppressed it as he finally answered. "I apologize. I did not mean to appear critical of your abilities," he said, his voice light with humor. His expression then turned more serious as he regarded her. "I have been watching you since our first surgery together as it became apparent that you are an incredibly gifted and innovative surgeon. This week I had a small lag in cases and decided to tag along on your surgeries. It was never my intention to question your abilities, but rather to better understand your judgement and expertise within the OR."

Her face openly displayed her confusion. "Why?"

Itachi's expression turned thoughtful. "As you may know, my mother is the founder of the Uchiha Foundation. Every year, we receive a handful of nominees of some of the best and brightest surgeons in the country and award one of them a grant for their dedication and continued research," he explained.

Her brows furrowed further but she nodded, already aware of his prestigious family name.

The corner of Itachi's mouth twitched again as if the fact she didn't understand where their conversation was going amused him. "I am telling you this because it is becoming more apparent to me that one day when you have time to sit down and begin your own research, I may see your name up for nomination." His half-smile, half-smirk returned. "And it is always more meaningful when I am already acquainted with the winner."

His sincere statement left her speechless and she stared at him in open bafflement as she fought to process their conversation. This entire time she had presumed he had been following her to make sure she didn't screw up when in fact he had been observing her out of appreciation. He seemed to truly believe that she would one day make a name for herself and the fact he said it so confidently left her feeling a little dazed.

She scrambled for something to say but her thoughts were in disarray and before she could formulate a reply, Itachi's pager went off. He pulled it from his hip and read the quick message. "I am needed downstairs for a consult," he said. Then he met her gaze again as a smile softened his handsome face. "But expect to see me in your OR again soon."

Then he was gone, leaving her in the conference room alone.

She still felt stunned. Her emotions were a jumbled mess behind her breastbone and her mind was full of half-thoughts as she mentally repeated their conversation. But then a soft laugh escaped her and she couldn't bite back the grin that stretched across her face. She hadn't ever expected such high praise from a surgeon who already had such a successful career himself and his warm compliment filled her until she thought she might burst.

Even after all these weeks, it seemed she still didn't know Uchiha Itachi very well at all, and perhaps it was time she changed that – which meant she was going to have to find another nickname for him. Again.

tbc...

#itachi #sakura #part four #itasaku #part iv #where it happened #grey's anatomy au #my writing #no tags this time #does anyone even read them??#tired.

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