#beyond the contact of just being in a hospital and waiting rooms and around nurses and doctors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

searidings · 3 years

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this is what happens when @ekingston and i get our hands on the prompt “that's my wife!” and agree that she'll draw my idea for it and i'll write hers (aka hearing kara call it out as she watches lena being wheeled down a hospital corridor)

“Excuse me, you can't go through there!”

Kara growls. The woman blocking her path is short and gently rounded, the kind lines of her face drooping in disapproval above her nurse's scrubs. “No visitor access beyond this point, dear. Immediate family only.”

“Immediate— you're joking, right?” Kara cranes her head, peering through the closing doors to catch a last glimpse of Lena's gurney as it rounds the corner at the end of the hall. “That's my wife!”

The nurse gapes at her. “Your—?”

Kara growls again, louder. It's a good thing she'd blown out her powers twenty minutes ago, or she would not be held responsible for the Kryptonian-shaped hole in NC Memorial Hospital's expensive surgery doors. “Yes, my wi—”

Her snarl is cut off by a hand clamping down firmly over her mouth from behind. Kara's first instinct is to bite it. She resists, narrowly, as the familiar scent of shea butter moisturiser registers in her adrenaline-fogged brain.

“You sure about that?” Alex squeaks around a nervous laugh, voice pitched a half-octave too high. She removes her hand from Kara's mouth, wiping her damp palm on her pants with a wrinkled nose. “Get hit on the head during that fight, did you?”

Kara whirls on her sister, eyes blazing. “Am I sure?” she parrots incredulously. Alex cowers a little beneath the force of her stare. “Unless you're trying to tell me I hallucinated my entire wedding—”

“Supergirl isn't married,” Alex stage-whispers loud enough to be heard in Florida, glancing pointedly down at Kara's ash-caked body and oh yeah, she's still wearing her supersuit.

Right, right.

The nurse – Rosemary, her badge reads – finally picks her jaw up off the floor long enough to speak. Her eyes are wide, sparkling with sudden glee. “So Lena Luthor and Su—”

Kara's hackles rise at the suggestion in her tone. “Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers are happily married,” she interrupts sternly. “You might have seen the wedding photos in last month's Vogue.”

The nurse smirks. At her elbow, Alex drops her head into her hands.

“Kara Danvers, hm? Amazing what a pair of glasses do for you, dear.” Rosemary's brow quirks with impish satisfaction and, oh. Whoops. It would appear that in her haste to quash any potential rumours of Lena's infidelity behind the back of her very recent, very publicly human wife, she'd forgotten about the other delicate matter at hand.

Alex sighs so long and so heavy Kara legitimately marvels that she doesn't pass out from the strain. “I knew keeping a spare NDA in my back pocket would pay off,” her sister groans, thrusting an official-looking, if crumpled, contract beneath the nurse's nose.

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs sheepishly as Rosemary signs away page after page of her right to ever disclose Supergirl's identity in any capacity. “I wasn't thinking, I can't— Alex, it's Lena.”

“I know, I know,” her sister soothes, frustration dissipating as she reaches out to pull Kara into her side, ignoring the soot and grit that smear across her jacket at the contact. “She's gonna be okay.”

“But what if she's not?” Kara asks and the sobs arrive then, the last remnants of the fight or flight response that had propelled her this far dissipating beneath the weight of her terror. “She stepped right in front of that bullet, Alex! Of all the stupid, reckless—”

“If I recall, she was pushing you back after you shoved her out of the way in the first place,” Alex hums thoughtfully. Kara's tear-filled eyes snap to her face, incredulous, and her sister grimaces. “Right, right. Not the time.”

“She has to be okay,” she gasps, clutching hard at her sister's jacket as her knees threaten to give out beneath her. “She has to, I can't— I feel like I can't breathe. Like my heart's been ripped out.”

Alex clicks her tongue in sympathy, wrapping a firm arm round Kara's waist and guiding her to a nearby row of chairs. Rosemary deposits the signed NDA wordlessly on the hard plastic beside them, reaching into her scrubs to produce a pack of tissues.

Alex accepts, extracting one to dab at Kara's snotty, tear-stained face with her free hand. “Welcome to married life, kid,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss to Kara's matted hair. “It can be a real bitch.”

It's a long night.

It's a long night, a night of anxious waiting and barely-restrained nausea and vending machine coffee so bad even Nia won't drink it. Her family, their family, crowd the waiting room, dozing across the rows of seats as the hours drag on and on.

Alex tries her best, at varying intervals, to force her back to the Tower for a stint under the sun lamps. Every time without fail, Kara sets her jaw, then sets her feet in the middle of the surgical wing waiting room and refuses to budge.

This leads to several arguments, and a lot of impassioned shoving.

“What if she needs me?” Kara laments tearily, pout activated and puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Alex, mid-football tackle with her arms and right shoulder braced against Kara's torso as she attempts to use her entire bodyweight to force her sister toward the exit, only grunts with exertion. Behind them, J’onn dozes in the corner. Brainy and Kelly and Nia continue their conversation without batting an eyelid.

“No, scratch that, she does need me,” Kara corrects, unaffected by her sister's NFL-worthy body slam. “She's been shot. I'm not going anywhere.”

Alex, perhaps finally sensing defeat after her fourth unsuccessful attempt, gives one final shove with all her strength. Kara doesn't so much as wobble, and her sister releases her with a huff. “Fine. But for the love of God, change your clothes before you start shouting about your wife again,” she pants, red-faced and sweating as she collapses into a nearby chair. “That was my last NDA.”

That's a compromise she can make. Kara accepts the bundle of clothes Nia presents her with, stripping out of her dirt-caked suit and re-donning her glasses. Thankfully, the only person around to witness Kara entering the bathroom as a superhero and re-emerging as a Catco reporter is Rosemary.

The updates on Lena's condition are sporadic at best. By the time the first surgeon emerges to say the bullet has been removed from Lena's chest cavity Kara's accidentally cracked three plastic chairs, advanced all the way to Lollipop Land on Alex's Candy Crush, and worn a groove into the waiting room linoleum with her nervous pacing.

When another doctor emerges three hours later to tell them Lena had developed a tension pneumothorax and needs additional treatment, Kara's made it to Rainbow Reef and chewed her bottom lip bloody.

When, at five in the morning, yet another doctor appears to inform them that Lena is being placed on anti-radiation medication to counter the Kryptonite that had coated the bullet, Kara's finished all nine thousand nine hundred and thirty-five levels of the damn game. The doctor leaves, promising to be back with more news soon, and Kara squeezes her sister's hand so hard poor Nurse Rosemary has to be called to administer an ice pack for the bruising, solar flare be damned.

Dawn breaks to find Kara scratchy-eyed and grumpy, worn ragged with worry. The waiting room begins to fill up around them, new patients and their relatives coming and going, and still there's nothing new on Lena. Every time another scrub-clad surgeon pushes through the doors Kara's heart skips a beat, all of them sitting up straighter in their seats, but every time the doctor passes them by.

Kara's just wolfed down six cold breakfast sandwiches procured by Brainy on his sojourn to the hospital cafeteria and is debating the relative merits of starting Candy Crush over from scratch when another young doctor appears. Her scrub cap has avocados on it. Kara likes her already.

“Family of Ms Luthor?” she calls, looking around, and Kara pushes up hard from her chair to the resounding snap of cracking plastic. Whoops.

“It's Luthor-Danvers,” she gabbles as she bounds over to the surgeon, palms sweating. No matter how many times she hears it, it never loses its thrill. “I'm, I'm her wife.”

The young doctor's features soften. “Of course. I've come to let you know that it looks like Ms Luthor-Danvers is out of the woods. She's sedated and still on an anti-radiation drip, but she's through the worst of it.” She appraises Kara, gaze lingering on her chewed-raw lips and clenching fingers, then leans closer conspiratorially. “It's not general visiting hours yet, but you can see her, if you'd like.”

“Yes!” Kara's shouting almost before the surgeon has finished speaking. “Yes, please, yes.”

She hugs them all, Alex and Brainy and Nia and Kelly and J’onn, and leaves them in the waiting room as she follows the doctor's sunshine-yellow crocs down the hall.

They round corner after corner, an interminable maze. Powerless as she is, she can't hear Lena’s heartbeat, and the absence of the steady beat that has become the soundtrack to her existence sets her even more on edge.

But at last they turn a corner, and there she is. She's pale and bandaged and her eyes are closed, creamy skin streaked with dirt and bruises, but she's there, she's alive, she's Lena.

The surgeon holds the door open for her with a smile and Kara's across the room in a heartbeat, smoothing a hand over Lena's warm cheek and pressing kiss after kiss to her forehead and hair.

“I love you, I love you,” she whisper-cries against Lena's temple, tucking her matted curls behind her ears. The smell of blood and dirt and antiseptic is almost overwhelming, but beneath the dust and debris caught up in her hair Lena's scalp smells the same as always. Kara presses her face to the crown of her head and inhales deeply, soaking it in.

“Why'd you have to be so damn brave?” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against silky softness. “I love you so much. Please don't step in front of any more bullets. Please learn to be a coward, occasionally.”

The singular relief of having Lena living and breathing and in her arms again is so complete, so compounded by the fear and the adrenaline and the sleepless night and the solar flare, that she feels suddenly that she may crumple to the ground from the force of it all.

Unwilling to relinquish her hold for even a second she appraises the bandages covering Lena's right side, then crawls onto the hospital bed on her left, careful to avoid her many wires and monitors. She tucks herself in beside her on the wide mattress, chin hooked over Lena's shoulder and face pressed to the side of her neck, and lets the tears that haven't really stopped falling since that bullet had left its chamber fall for just a little longer.

Nothing matters outside of the two of them, outside of the warmth of Lena's body and the softness of her skin beneath Kara's lips and the steady thud of her heart beneath Kara's palm. Nothing else in the world exists, so when an unfamiliar male voice sounds from the doorway it takes her a moment to register the intrusion.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you really can't be on the bed with her,” the strange, disembodied voice calls from behind her and Kara frowns tiredly, unable and unwilling to acknowledge anything outside of the woman in her arms.

But before she's even managed to raise her head another voice sounds, the soft tones of a young surgeon in an avocado scrub cap.

“Oh, honestly, Peter,” the kindly doctor says with gentle reproach, a quiet calm washing over the room as the door is pulled closed and she and Lena are left alone. “Leave them be. That's her wife.”

#check out easter's incredible art! as usual she absolutely nailed it #in my humble opinion you can simply never have too many 'that's my wife!' concepts in the world #it just never gets old #ridings writes #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

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pregnancy

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, Fatgum, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog would be through your pregnancy.

I don’t write about giving birth (as I’m mildly terrified of doing so) so I didn’t add anything about that. Please don’t ask for me to. And even though I’m not interested in getting pregnant, I think I’d be okay with it if Kugo or Ryo were the father.

EDIT: I love picturing all of these men with little girls. It’s just so cute!

Warnings: uh, pregnancy

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta isn’t one to jump for joy when you tell him. However, you will get to see his handsome smile when he grabs your waist, breathing out a light laugh of happiness as he tightly hugs you. His smile won’t disappear for a while. Every time he glances at you, one simply finds its way onto his face.

It may not be by a whole lot, but his behavior changes. Just a little. When you’re out and about, his hand finds its way to your back or elbow much more often, particularly in a crowd. It’s the paternal instincts kicking in. His favorite cuddling position, laying between your legs with his head on your stomach, becomes harder the farther along you are. He adjusts to laying behind you, keeping a hand on your tummy throughout the entire night.

Shouta hides his worries well. Even the people closest to him have a tough time telling what exactly is going on with him. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. He’s a stable person to lean on. But it’s difficult to deal with when you’re hormonal and emotional. He pushes himself so hard to speak more. There’s no way of him understanding everything you’re going through, but when he opens up, he can tell just how much you appreciate it during the tough times. So he does it near-daily, checking in with each other before bed.

He hates how busy his life is. Well, he’s always kind of hated it. Now it’s worse because his partner’s pregnant, and he’s stuck in a room with screaming children when he should be bringing you to your appointments. Shouta attempts to make up for the absence by heading home every night and helping around the house more. Step in. Explain how you value his help, but also need him to relax. If he gets overworked, that would only stress you more.

Shouta changes his eating habits and fitness routines. He wants you to eat well for yourself and your child. He wants you to keep exercising for yourself and your child. He simply wants your body to be healthy. Don’t grumble because he’ll throw your complaining back in your face when the Lamaze coach explains how important physical health is. But don’t worry, his cute smile makes up for the teasing.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori is starstruck. Too many thoughts flood and fight. He loves children and has always wanted a family. Being able to father one with you is indescribable. And he never thought the universe would grant any of that. On the flip side, his fear is also undefinable. People know who he is now; who knows what’s out there, waiting to expose All Might’s weakness. The rapid thoughts may bring a tear or two. Cup his face and kiss them away, reassuring him that everything’s okay.

The fears follow him throughout your pregnancy. Like all things (with you and him), there are good days and bad days. His emotions ramp-up during your emotional and physically unwell days. He tries his best to push them down to focus on you. But they eventually end up spilling over. It’ll be common for both of you to cry at the end of the day, snuggled together, talking about the future, worries, and anticipations.

In general, Toshinori isn’t that protective. He trusts you and your abilities. Just because you’re pregnant, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly disabled. You can still do things. Although, he does become a bit of a helicopter. Whenever you bend over to pick up a bag, he beats you to it. He swoops the laundry basket from your hands, claiming, ‘You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,’ despite it not even being ten pounds. He’s just very watchful of your movements.

He’s very active in dieting, doctor’s appointments, and planning. He eats well, so it’s easy for him to aid you in that respect. For doctors, he has quite a lot of contacts and knows many doctors from his time in the hospital. He asks around, only accepting the best for you. Planning, shopping, and setting up the nursery are his favorite parts. He loves choosing the sweetest colors, softest blankets, and, of course, all the adorable All Might onesies, toys, and superhero books he can find. The nursery is set up perfectly.

Toshinori doesn’t admit how incredibly your pregnant body enchants him. It isn’t always a horny, sexual need. It’s about admiring your body and what it’s creating. He just wonders at you. All the time. Sometimes the changes may make you feel insecure. He’s always there to listen and assure you how amazing your body is. If you want cuddles and kisses, he’ll give them with a smile. If you want gentle lovemaking, he guides you onto your back and gives you exactly what you want.

Yamada Hizashi

Expect a loud song of love, a bear hug, and jumping for joy when you tell him. Hizashi loves kids. He thinks they’re amazing and say some of the greatest things. And he’s beyond excited to see their quirk. Of course, it doesn’t mean he’ll love them any less if they’re born quirkless. He just loves imagining a little one with a similar quirk running around your place.

He is all about redecorating and planning. The entire apartment is getting babyfied and rearranged. The nursery will be beautifully painted. He regularly comes home with cute outfits and stuffed animals. Partly, it’s because he’s just so excited. The other part is he wants you to relax through the pregnancy. No stress, pressure, and unnecessary burden on your shoulders. He’s there to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.

Hizashi doesn’t just spoil your unborn child; he spoils you, buying you those pregnancy pillows, your favorite ice cream, driving you everywhere, etc… He just hates how much time his jobs take. He’d rather spend his time with you. To help, he’ll ask for time off of patrols, choosing to be closer with you, physically, mentally, and emotionally, during your pregnancy.

In the later months, Hizashi is all over you. Seriously, he will not leave you alone. He’s very handsy, kneading and licking your swollen, sore breasts, and stroking your belly. Your body, and everything it’s doing, is utterly gorgeous to him. He’ll suck away, gently nursing on your nipple while dozing off to Tv, occasionally switching to the other so it isn’t left needy.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

When you tell Taishiro, you’ll only be able to get out a few words before you’re lifted off your feet and spun around. He smooches all over your face, laughing and cheering about how amazing and perfect and stunning you are. You’ll have to ask to be put down lest you get sick from all his spinning. But his compliments keep coming. They won’t dwindle for a while. There’s just too much love in his body to keep inside.

Whatever you’re craving, no matter if it’s pineapple dipped in ketchup, he gives without complaint. He may try some of your odd combinations. Who knows? You could be on to something new. At the same time, he also watches out for your health. The cravings suck. He understands that. He truly does. But if you ate something sweet/not as healthy for lunch, then he plans a healthy dinner for you. Your body’s going crazy. It needs its nutrients.

Your worries are always taken seriously. It could be the most absurd thing to be anxious over. Tai always listens. His cute smile and never-ending positivity help a ton. Your body and brain are going through a lot. He’ll do his part to validate all your feelings. He talks down the anxieties as you eat pickles on ice cream, making sure you are and feel heard.

Since he works one job compared to the others, he’s able to be with you much more, notably during the hard-to-handle days and at appointments. And he picks up extra chores so you can rest through aches and pains. Any choices you make regarding your pregnancy and birth, he supports. He may not agree with everything, but he loves you, and it’s your body. He’ll always put your comfort and wishes first.

Tai treasured your tummy before. But now, seeing you growing with his child, he’s absolutely enraptured. He places nightly and morning kisses on your belly. When he wakes you up, his kisses trail down to the bump. Every night, he rubs lotion into your tummy, kissing and cooing to his child. It doesn’t matter if you’re only one week pregnant, and it’s just a clump of cells in there. Tai still sings to them.

Gang Orca

Kugo is in disbelief when you tell him. He freezes, staring, hardly hearing your words. Give him five minutes. He’ll process what you said and snap back to the present. Watch out because you’re going to get lifted high into the air and maybe tossed like a father does a baby. He’s just practicing. It’ll only take one or two days for him to slip into paternal mode. It’s damn near instinct for him.

As per usual, he’s a gentle paragon behind closed doors. Throughout your pregnancy, he melts into a puddle of sweet honey. His overall affection skyrockets. His hands and claws are as tender as possible whenever they touch you, doing whatever you need him to: massaging your back and legs, rubbing lotion all over, or brushing your hair. He reassures you through tears. He prepares healthy meals that satisfy your cravings. And he holds you all night, keeping you safe on his chest and in his arms.

Kugo goes to every single checkup and appointment. It doesn’t matter if it’s just an ordinary visit to your primary care doctor; he calls out of work and goes with you. At any ultrasounds, expect a few tears, especially when you hear the heartbeat for the first time. He holds them in until you’re alone. The second the door closes, his forehead is nudging yours as small, loved-filled tears fall. He never thought he’d get a family. Part of him thought he didn’t deserve a family, but you’ve proven that false repeatedly.

The farther along you are, the more he watches out for you. He checks in every morning to make sure you took your medicine and vitamins. He washes you so you don’t strain yourself. If you’re waddling, he offers his arm for support and helps you stand. If your back hurts, he applies a heating patch to your lower back and puts your shoes on for you. If you need it, he can carry you to the car and into where you’re going.

As does everyone, Kugo has doubts about his quirk and abilities. People have always viewed those with mutations differently. And it can affect their health, leading to numerous doctor visits and tests. He doesn’t want his baby to deal with the staring, whispers, self-doubts, and distress he did. To support him, talk in detail about his fears and help him realize he’s never disappointed you or hurt anyone. Kugo’s exactly how he should be.

Hound Dog

Ryo doesn’t have a tail, but you’ll definitely see a little happy wiggly before he hugs you. The following week, he keeps you close as he acts differently: rubbing up against you to ensure you smell like him, touching your nose with his, lapping along your neck, sleeping incredibly close, and occasionally smelling between your legs, licking the air around there to smell better. It’s awkward, almost weird, since it isn’t average ‘human’ behavior. But if you love him, let him do it. Please. Understand his nose works differently. It reassures and comforts him to smell you, checking in to see if anything’s changed.

Ryo gets protective when you’re on your period: When you’re pregnant, it’s so, so incredibly worse. He hovers, grumbling low at those walking by. Others barely hear it. It’s intense enough for you to feel it when he’s behind you. He doesn’t like people running up to you, or startling you, or roughhousing or playing in any way. He’s lenient with children, less with teens. Women get a deep growl and scowl. God help any man that approaches you. You might have to have him wear his Hero outfit’s muzzle until you give birth. Though, that might not help because then he’d be protective of two people.

It’s only the teensiest amount better at home. He makes you rest, almost too much. After work or some time outside, he shuffles you to the couch so you can’t overwork yourself. He’s a pleasant change of pace from his typical gruff self. However, as great as he is at the physical needs, he still struggles with the emotional aspects. You can cry on his shoulder, complain, and talk about your worries all you need to. He’s just a bit clunky when it comes to reciprocating the soft emotions. But he puts all his heart into it, and it’s easy to tell.

Ryo is also one who loves pregnancy sexy. You’re swollen and sensitive, and he loves watching your breasts bounce, maybe even leak a little depending on how far along you are. And since you’re already pregnant, he releases and stays inside. After, he lays behind you, keeping himself deep in you despite being flaccid, just feeling how wet and aroused and full you are because of him. When the heated moment is finally done, he licks you clean, nearly getting drunk off your smell.

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farfromharry · 3 years

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Brightside | CEO!Dad!Tom fic

summary: a sudden and unexpected turn of events with your little boy, leaves him in the hospital with an unknown diagnosis. tom has to fly home and the two of you have to face each other, properly and civilly, for the first time since your breakup. will this negative experience turn into a positive one, in more ways than one?

word count - 10.3k

warnings - warnings - language, hospitals, needles, fainting, mentions of seizures, mentions of blood

a/n - angst for once, but obviously ending in fluff because i can’t hurt myself like that🥰 also i’m super nervous to post this so lets see how this goes :)

A loud, irritating noise filled the kitchen as your phone began to ring. You groaned, annoyed. The once calm silence was now filled with your curses of panic as you tried to wipe off your messy hands as quickly as possible. You found an unused cloth on your kitchen side and decided on just using that, wiping off the remnants of the food you’d been making. You grabbed your phone from off of the counter, pressing the green accept button, lifting the device up to your ear.

“Hello?” you asked. Having not bothered to look at the contact name, you had absolutely no idea who you were even talking to right now.

“Hi, is this Miss Y/L/N?”

You mumbled a quick ‘yes.’ You wedged the phone between your ear and your shoulder, picking up the knife you’d been using a few minutes prior to continue cutting up the vegetable in front of you.

“This is about your son, Theo,” she said, “I work in the reception at the school.” You rolled your eyes, assuming that your angel of a four year old had somehow gotten into some trouble that you were now going to have to deal with.

The lady proceeded to explain to you quite the opposite of what you’d originally thought. She’d told you how Theo had thrown up in class, prompting him to be sent to the nurse where he then fainted, almost escalating to a seizure.

“What?” you asked. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, a sick feeling beginning to bubble in your throat. The knife had carelessly slipped from your fingers, making a loud clattering noise as it hit the counter. You gave the woman your undivided attention, listening to every word she spoke to you. She confirmed again what you’d thought you’d heard, your heart starting to beat out of your chest.

“We’re taking him to the hospital just in case,” she said, “Can you meet us there?”

You were panicking, her words barely even registering in your head until she called your name again. You muttered a quick yes in response. Your hands were beginning to shake and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep hold of your phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

You looked around at the mess, scrolling through the contacts on your phone and calling your mother. She picked up quickly, happily greeting you on the other end of the line. You quickly explained to her the situation and asked nicely if she could clean up what you’d been doing while you’re gone.

She thankfully said yes, promising everything would be fine. You were in such a rush after that, that you didn’t take anything with you except your phone. You slipped your shoes on as quick as you could, grabbing your car keys out of the small wooden bowl on the side and rushing out of the front door.

It was a miracle that you somehow didn’t crash your car on the way to the hospital. There were tears welling up in your eyes and it was impossible to properly see clearly. Your hands were still shaking as they gripped the wheel with so much strength you were scared it could break. Your head was a mess and you could barely process which direction you were going, you knew you shouldn’t have been driving like this.

It was almost a daze when you thought about how you got from your home to the hospital, your brain couldn’t piece together being in the car.

As soon as you’d parker, you were rushing inside, probably looking insane to others as you frantically turned your head in any direction, trying to find where you could ask for help.

You were clearly distressed and people were beginning to notice, one of those people being the lady that had called you earlier.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

Your head whipped around to where the voice came from, spotting her standing a few metres away. You made your way over, seeing her motion to the room where you could see your little boy laying inside.

Your heart broke even more at the sight of him. There were wires connected to him, ones that you didn’t understand, and it scared you to the core.

You frowned, stroking your hand through his messy curls, trying to tame the wild hair as best you could. It was one of the many things he’d inherited from his dad.

“Do you have anyone else you can call?” she asked, politely, “I just don’t want to leave you here alone.”

You smiled at her in thanks, nodding your head and forcing yourself to move away from your baby boy.

“I should probably call his dad,” you stated.

You heard a quiet groan from your side, turning your body to see Theo’s eyes fluttering awake, his body shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake,” you gushed. You kissed his head over and over, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You heard the boy whine about you almost suffocating him and letting out a relieved giggle, you loosened your grip.

You still held him to your chest, just long enough to calm your racing heart.

“I’ll leave you both,” she spoke, reminding you she was still in the room.

You nodded your head, flashing her a genuinely thankful smile.

“Thank you for helping him,” you whispered. You gave her a friendly hug, telling your son to wave goodbye before she left. You sighed deeply, taking a moment to let everything sink in to not overwhelm yourself.

You heard the four year old calling for you, prompting you to turn around to see what he needed.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” He jutted his bottom lip out, looked absolutely adorable as he started up at you with those soft, honey, brown eyes.

“I’m bored,” he whined. You pouted for him, eyes scanning around the small room for anything he could possibly amuse himself with.

“Do you want me to go ask for a colouring book or something?” you asked him. He rapidly nodded his head, a smile breaking out on your face for the first time within the hour, since the school had called you.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a second.”

Before you walked out of the door, you turned back to him and pointed your finger at him accusingly. “Don’t get into any trouble, mister,” you warned, a hint of playfulness in your tone. He giggled loudly, making your heart melt at the adorable sound.

“I promise.”

Being on a children's ward meant that the front desk always had things like these at hand. The ladies were more than happy to give you one of the books they had left, not having many options to choose from though.

They handed you some crayons and other colouring items. You thanked them profusely, knowing that you now wouldn’t have to deal with a cranky little Holland boy, because you knew how they could get.

You made your way back to the room quickly, having your doubts about leaving the toddler alone in an unknown place for any longer than necessary.

“Here you go, little man.”

You handed him the book with the wide variety of colouring items. You had to explain to him that the only books they had left were animals and flowers and you thought the animal ones looked much more fun.

“I’m expecting to see a rainbow frog,” you told him. He giggled, shaking his head.

“You can’t have a rainbow frog, mummy.” You gasped, furrowing your eyebrows teasingly.

“Why not, mister?” you asked. You saw him huff, trying to hide your giggle.

“They’re not real,” he said, like it was just so obvious.

This time you couldn’t hide your giggle as you watched his tiny brows furrow in annoyance at you. You leaned forward and placed a kiss to the tiny crease in the middle of his eyebrows. Once again something he got from his dad when he pulled the same face.

“I was just teasing bub.” He rolled his eyes at you, making you gasp and poke his belly teasingly. He giggled loudly, the noise echoing around the room as he tried to get you to stop tickling him.

You had considerably calmed down from when you arrived at the hospital to now, feeling your heart beating at a much slower pace, one that was at least calm.

“Will you colour with me?” he asked.

Originally, you were going to take this time to call Tom, but seeing the boy’s puppy dog eyes, you absolutely couldn’t resist.

You stayed and coloured in the animals with him for a while, just enjoying bonding with your bub.

You’d help him stay in the lines of the drawing, helping him out where he needed helping, while also working on your own animal, surprisingly enjoying yourself.

Noticing the time on the clock, you made the decision that you had to call Tom, it had already been long enough, it couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m just going to go call daddy, okay?” He nodded his head, content with going back to his colouring book. You sighed, leaving the room and finding a quiet space in the corridor.

You pulled up Tom’s contact on your phone, one you’d contemplated deleting probably a hundred times, hovering over the call button hesitantly.

As soon as it started ringing your heart ached, you weren’t even sure if he’d pick up, possibly too busy with work once again.

You gasped when you heard the phone connect, almost shocked that he’d take the time to answer you.

“Hi, Tom, um-“ He cut you off before you could even finish, something that irritated you beyond belief.

“Look Y/N, now’s really not a good time, can this wait?” he asked, telling someone on the other side of the phone that he’d be two minutes.

“Tom, I had to take Theo to the hospital,” you cried, finally letting out the sob you’d been holding in all day. You didn’t mean to cry or guilt him, it was just bad timing. You’d been trying to be strong for your little boy, knowing he was already scared out of his mind, he didn’t need to know his mum was scared too.

“Woah, hey, calm down, breathe Y/N.” You listened to his smooth voice, taking deep breaths until you were able to talk again.

“What do you mean you had to take him to the hospital,” he said, “What happened?”

A sense of overwhelming panic beginning to overtake his entire body. He was across the ocean, there was nothing he could do.

You explained everything that had happened up until now, Tom listening intently to every word.

“Shit, do they know what’s wrong?” he asked, nervously. You could hear the worry in his voice.

“No, we’re waiting for them to come and do some tests,” you said, glancing back at your boy through the window in his room. Just to check that he was okay.

“Is he okay right now?” he questioned. His brain was a mess, there were so many possibilities of things that could be wrong running through his head and he hoped to God that none of them were true.

“Yeah, I think so, he’s just colouring at the minute.”

Tom sighed. “Okay, well um-“ He tried to organize his thoughts, listening to you telling him to take a minute. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said. You suddenly felt awful, knowing he was halfway across the world. The last thing you wanted was to guilt trip him into dropping everything, especially if he didn’t want to. Your tears had come to a stand still, trying to explain to him that it was okay and you had this under control.

“You don’t have to, I know you’re busy and-“ He cut you off again.

“Nothing’s more important to me than him, I’ll be there, I promise.”

After going through the later years of your relationship, you knew not to trust Tom’s promises, and you also knew how stubborn he was. His promises were often broken and just ended up hurting people in the end, and you didn’t want that to be you all over again.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” he asked, after not receiving a response from you.

“Yeah, I heard you, I’ll see you soon,” you said. You said your goodbyes, hanging up the phone and heading back inside the hospital room to see your boy.

“Change of plans, cancel the meeting,” Tom demanded, taking his coat from behind his chair and throwing it on his body in a haste. The women and men sitting around the table stared at him in shock, gasping at how unprofessional the CEO seemed to be.

“Mr Holland, this meeting is important, we can’t just cancel,” she tried to reason. He waved her off, shaking his head and dialling another number on his phone, the one of his personal assistant.

“Harrison, hi, I need you to book me on the next flight to London, asap.”

She apologised to them on his behalf, but the woman refused to give up, following Tom out of the meeting room and all the way to the set of lifts at the end of the floor. Tom was rapidly pressing the button to call the lift, hoping it could come quicker than it was. He hung up the phone with Harrison after confirming all the details of the flight.

“London?” she gasped, “You can’t go to London, we’re in the middle of one of the biggest deals of your career Tom.”

Tom rolled his eyes, almost up to his limits with everything. He didn’t know what was going to cause him to break down first, the woman or the fact that the lift still wasn’t here. He knew it was silly to get so worked up over something so small, but his concern for his child was above anything else.

“I don’t care about the deal, Y/N just called, Theo’s in the hospital,” he said. She frowned, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, referencing the meeting with the big investors that was due to happen any moment.

“Whatever you think is best, but please don’t tell them about Theo, I don’t want this getting out.” She nodded, heading back towards the office to explain what was happening with the meeting, unfortunately having to come up with something on the spot.

While Tom was being driven to the airport, you were trying to convince Theo to get in bed and go to sleep. It was late for him, almost eleven, and he’d had a very long day.

“Please, it’s already past your normal bedtime.” He pouted, making grabby hands at you.

“But this bed isn’t comfy and-“ You rolled your eyes, gently squeezing his cheeks together to get him to stop making excuses.

“Do you want me to sleep with you?” you asked, seeing him nod his head. You smiled softly, climbing under the covers and seeing what he meant when he said it was uncomfortable. You let him curl into you, resting his small head on your chest, his arms clinging to you.

“Mummy?” he whispered. You hummed, running your fingers through his curly hair, something that you usually did when he was scared, because it always calmed him down. He shifted in your arms, pushing himself up on the small bed so that he could lay his head next to yours on the soft pillow.

“Do you still love daddy?” he asked, looking up at you with his big brown eyes that perfectly resembled Toms. Your heart ached. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to say to the boy, because you didn’t know yourself. You thought it over in your head quietly.

On the one hand you hated how obsessed and committed he was to his work, but on the other, he was an amazing dad to Theo, and he always treated you like a princess. Your eyes flickered over your baby’s face, admiring all the parts of his features that he got from his daddy.

You realised in that moment, looking at those tiny features, the ones that resembled the ones you studied for hours on end once upon a time, you truly did hold a soft spot for Tom, even now. You sighed, stroking your boy’s cheek, ready to give him his answer.

“Of course I do.” you admitted. You saw the corner of his lips twitch up as he tried to bite back a smile.

“Then why don’t you live together,” he asked, “Everyone else at school’s parents live together.” You frowned, not having the heart to tell him about your break up properly, even after all this time. You simply pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his tiny body and kissing the top of his head.

“We needed some time apart, to focus on what needed our attention,” you said, “We couldn’t do everything at once.”

You saw him staring up at you with his wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest even thinking about what happened with Tom. You weren’t quite sure Theo understood what you meant, because he still looked a little confused.

“So, your daddy had to focus on his company, making sure everything was going well and I had to focus on my little rugrat,” you said, poking his belly to tickle him. He giggled, trying to squirm away from your hands.

“Is it like-like in Captain America, when Steve has to leave Peggy to save the world.” You raised your eyebrows, thinking it over. You were a little bit shocked by his surprisingly good analogy.

“And then Peggy has to focus on Shield,” you added, “It’s exactly like that Theo.” He nodded his head, understanding where you were coming from.

You saw his big eyes begin to blink more, but also slower, a tell-tale sign that he was going to knock out any minute.

“Mummy?” he asked again. You smiled.

“Yes Theo?” you said, brushing his overgrown curls out of the way of his eyes.

“Are you more like Steve or Peggy?” he asked. You giggled, amused by the idea of him relating yours and Tom’s relationship to a fictional, superhero one.

“Well you see, I’m more like Steve, because I had to sacrifice everything for my world, just like he did.” You kissed his head when you said ‘my world,’ clearly referring to your boy.

“Wow,” he mumbled, letting his eyes finally flutter shut. “My mummy’s a superhero.”

Your eyes began to water happily, cradling his head to your chest as he finally fell asleep. You took deep breaths, trying to bite back the heart wrenching cry that was threatening to come out.

After a while of laying in the silence of the hospital room, you gave in and closed your eyes, letting your son’s rhythmic breaths ease you to sleep.

You were completely unaware that Tom had gotten the first flight out to London after he ended your phone call. You assumed he would have arrived in a few days time, at least, probably having left over business to finish up first.

[His heart] was racing the entire journey, feeling utterly useless from halfway across the world and he couldn’t stand it.

Harrison had tried to calm him down as he helped him pack for his flight on the private jet, telling him he needed to be positive about this. Tom had snapped at him, asking him how that was even possible while he wasn’t with his own child.

Tom felt bad but Harrison made it clear that he didn’t take it to heart, knowing he was stressed and there was nothing he could really do to help.

He offered to go with his boss, thinking it’d be better if he wasn’t doing this all alone, but Tom refused with minimal explanation. He knew you wouldn’t want a stranger lingering around the hospital room if anything went badly.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tom?” he asked, standing on the runway at the entrance to the private jet, ready to go with him to England if he just so much as asked.

“I’m okay, really,” he promised, ascending the steps of the plane with his luggage.

The plane ride was gruelling. Tom didn’t know what to expect when he arrived, and he certainly didn’t know how it was going to go between the two of you while he was there. The flight was long and he tried to get as much sleep as he could, barely managing a couple hours with the worry bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Everything seemed to be going so slowly, right from landing to getting through the airport.

It felt like he was waiting for a taxi for days, tapping his thumb on his arm anxiously, his eyes focused solely on the ground, trying to control the thoughts in his head.

The ride from the airport to the children’s hospital was agony for the young father. Tom’s leg was bouncing nervously, his hands shaking and his eyes glancing down at his watch or his phone every few seconds. He hadn’t gotten any updates from you recently, assuming you’d fallen asleep because of the time.

He knew that with it being this late he’d have to see you and Theo tomorrow morning. Before he left he didn’t really consider the time difference.

When the taxi stopped he was quick to toss the man the right amount of money, practically sprinting out of the car to grab his luggage.

It was as if he ran into the hospital, looking around frantically in search of the reception area, just like you had done hours prior. When he spotted it, it was like his feet were working before his brain. They led him to the woman before he even had time to process that he was moving.

“Hi, I’m here for Theodore Holland,” he announced. The woman at the front desk clearly didn’t notice the sense of urgency in Tom’s voice.

“Sir, I’m sorry, visiting hours are over,” she said, “They start again tomorrow at nine,” she explained calmly. Tom shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the hundredth time today. He was sure that by now it looked a complete mess, a contrast from his normally styled and gelled hair.

“I can’t wait, I have to see him,” he whined pitifully, “Please,” he begged.

She took pity on the young man, nodding her head and waving the rules in his time of need.

“And who are you?” she asked, typing the little boy’s name into the computer to search for his files, so slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

“I’m his dad,” he stated, looking around the hospital ward in a panic. She nodded, looking at the details for Theo on her computer.

“Can you just confirm his birthday?” she asked. Tom recited the little boy’s birthday to her with ease, the six digits being the password to his phone for the last four years and the day also being the best moment of his life.

“Alright, Mr Holland, you want to go right down that hall, turn left and then it’s the first door on your right, room 106,” she instructed. Tom thanked her, taking long, quick strides down the hallway, carrying his bag with his belongings in his hand.

After finding the plaque with the correct door number, he noticed the lights were off. He carefully opened the door and creeped in, closing it quietly behind him, to not disturb either of you. He noticed two figures on the bed instead of one, his heart melting at the sight of your four year old curled up into your chest like an infant again.

He let out a quiet sigh, placing his bag on the floor, taking a seat next to Theo’s side of the bed. He could now clearly see your face as you slept, still as beautiful as he remembered.

Yours and Tom’s breakup was messy. Breakups always are when there’s a child involved.

You simply hated how much Tom was working, barely ever home to see you both, leaving, what felt like, all the responsibility to you. You were both still young, only twenty-two at the time and you were struggling. One more missed dinner and crying baby finally tipped you over the edge, to where you couldn’t take it anymore.

When Tom finally came home that night you confronted him about it all. You didn’t mean to start a fight but that was evidently what happened anyway. You thought it could’ve been a civilised discussion that would be solved within the hour.

Tom left the house that night to go and stay with his brothers, hoping he could give you time to cool off and then everything would be back to normal when he next saw you.

However, what he didn’t expect, was for you to tell him you were really done, just like you’d said in the argument. He seemingly couldn’t choose between his job and his girlfriend and child, so, you chose for him.

He didn’t mean for it to happen. He didn’t realise how much he was focused on work instead of the people that mattered to him, and he pretty much lost everything within a night.

The next week, Tom was off doing more and more business deals to distract himself from his loss, his family claiming he was overworking himself. He never listened to them though, and that’s how he ended up in the states, far away from you and far away from his son.

From next to the bed Tom saw his baby begin to stir, shuffling over closer to his side of the bed and smiling down at the beautiful boy.

“Daddy?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his tiny fists.

“Hi precious.” Tom stroked his cheek softly. This was the first time he’d been able to see his son in months, and he’d almost forgotten how amazing it was to see him in person. Yes, he’d seen him on facetime frequently, but there was something much more heart-warming about seeing him in the flesh and being able to hold him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked rather loudly, Tom shushing him and pointing to you.

“We don’t want to wake mummy,” he said, seeing Theo nod his head. He extended his arms out for his dad, wanting him to pick him up. Tom carefully scooped him out of bed, trying his hardest not to wake you from your peaceful sleep.

Theo wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck in one of his hugs, giving Tom a chance to look over his shoulder and finally admire your sleeping figure. Just you this time, no toddler cuddled up to you obscuring part of his view.

He admired all the things he used to- well, still does love about you. The way your eyelashes rested just above your cheeks, the way your lips parted just making him want to constantly kiss you. The way the sun shining through the window perfectly illuminated your face, making you look like a perfect angel. He took a few steps closer, just enough to brush some hair out of your face that looked like it was bothering you. Even the simple touch had you nuzzling your cheek, subconsciously, into the warmth of his hand, having missed his touch, even if you’d refuse to admit it when you were awake.

“Daddy?” Theo whispered, taking his note of trying not to wake you up.

“What’s up, bug?” he asked, turning his head to look at him. He always felt it was like looking into a time machine. You were convinced right from the day he was born that he didn’t get any of your features, looking like a clone of Tom when he was a toddler. But Tom was always adamant that Theo got your personality and mannerisms.

“I’m hungry,” he pouted, resting his tired head on his shoulder.

“Let’s go find you something to eat,” he said, following the hospital signs that pointed in the direction of the café.

Tom, stupidly, didn’t think to leave you a note to tell you that he’d arrived, or that he’d just taken Theo for food.

You didn’t really remember falling asleep in the uncomfortable hospital bed, nor did you remember Tom pulling a blanket over you and Theo in the middle of the night, or Tom even arriving for that matter.

You opened your eyes, groaning quietly as you were pulled out of your sleep. You turned your head to see if your son was awake, which you had no doubts he would be, but you frowned when you noticed he was no longer even in the bed, the sheets now cold on his side.

You sat up, looking around the room to find you were completely alone, except there was now an unfamiliar bag sitting next to the door. Your motherly instincts kicked in and you began to panic not knowing the whereabouts of your baby.

You were about to call for a nurse, asking if she’d seen him when Tom walked through the door with your son perched on his hip, laughing loudly as he nibbled on a sandwich.

“Oh thank god,” you said, taking Theo from Tom’s arms into your own. You kissed his head, running your hands over his hair.

“I didn’t know where you were,” you whined, glancing up at Tom. Theo nuzzled closer to you, his silent way of telling you he was here.

“That was my fault, sorry, he was hungry so I-“ This time you were the one to cut Tom off before he could finish his sentence.

“It’s okay, just scared me s’all.” Theo tucked his head into your neck, his small hand still clinging on to his food. After a few minutes, your heart had calmed down, reminding you that he still hadn’t eaten.

“Okay, go and eat buddy.” You let him down, watching him scurry off back to his bed where he had a little table he could eat on. You watched him for a couple seconds, making sure he was okay before turning back around to face Tom.

“Hi.” He said, staring right at you, that oh so familiar face looking as perfect and handsome as he had the first time you met.

“Hi Tom,” you said back. There was a painfully awkward tension between you both, one that could’ve been cut with a knife. Neither of you really knew what to speak about, both of you trying to start a conversation at exactly the same time, something that only made it even more awkward.

“You go first,” he said, trying to be polite.

“When did you get here?” you asked. You noticed the bags under his eyes, feeling yourself start to worry about him, but part of you told you to stop.

“Just after four, they almost didn’t let me in,” he explained. You nodded your head, nervously fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt.

“Well, he seems pretty glad that you’re here Tom,” you said, flashing him a nervous smile.

“H-how do you feel?” he asked, “About me being here?” It was silent for a few minutes. Tom was nervous, immediately regretting even asking as soon as the question came out of his mouth.

“I’m happy you’re here too.” His eyes widened in shock, taken aback by that answer. He smiled, his heart beginning to beat slightly faster.

Neither of you said anything more as you entered Theo's room, choosing to make small conversation with the boy about anything and everything, rather than with each other.

At some point in the afternoon Theo had grown sleepy, crawling under the blanket to take a nap. It was now just you and Tom sitting in yet another awkward silence. You were sitting in the chair next to his bed, making sure you were there if he needed you for anything. Tom was sitting across from you in another chair, watching you interact with your son. He noticed you visibly shiver in your thin, short sleeved shirt, rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself up.

“Are you cold?” Tom asked, almost rhetorically as he pulled off his own jacket and wrapped the material around your shivering frame.

“Thank you, I-I was in such a rush when I left, that I guess I forgot.” He nodded, flashing you a tight lipped, awkward smile. The tension in the air was uncomfortable, neither of you really daring to speak up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said, his eyes filled with regret. You tried to tell him it was fine, but you could feel your emotions rising in your throat, making it harder to keep them down.

He could see you breaking down inside just through your eyes, and he didn’t know how long you’d been holding this in. You took a glance at Theo to make sure he was asleep before looking back to your ex-lover.

“Fuck Tom, I was a mess, I-I had to call my mum and ask her to sort the house for me,” you cried, burying your head in your hands. His heart broke, a mental debate going on in his head about whether he should go over there to comfort you or stay sitting in his chair across from you.

He definitely didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his presence but he also hated seeing you cry like this.

He eventually decided to help, coming over and wrapping his arms around you timidly. He was shocked when you curled into his chest, tightening his hold on you and running his hand over your hair. To make it easier for you both, you switched places. Tom letting you curl up into his lap on the chair.

“Shh, it’s okay, he’s okay,” he said. He didn’t know if he was convincing you or himself though. His voice was calming to you, somehow bringing your tears to a slow stop as he whispered sweet words to you. Just being like this with him reminded you of all the times you’d spent together dating, normally in more positive circumstances than this.

“Why don’t I call my mum or someone, have her come here and watch him, and I’ll take you home for a little bit.” You nodded your head gratefully, tucking your face into his neck as he pulled out his phone.

The phone call between Nikki and her son was rather quick, the woman agreeing to come and watch Theo with no hesitation, especially after Tom had explained the whole hospital situation that only made you tear up again.

“Thank you,” you whimpered quietly. He nodded his head, kissing your temple lightly.

“Of course.”

You were still sitting in his lap with Tom rubbing his hand up and down your back when Nikki walked in, not even half an hour later.

“Hello,” she greeted, trying to hide her grin at the scene in front of her. If you weren’t going to fall back in love like she’d hoped, at least you were on talking terms.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said, getting up to wrap her in a tight hug. She told you that it was no problem, ushering you both out, making a playful comment that you smelled bad. You scoffed, feigning offense, even if you knew she was partially right.

Tom drove you home in your car, back to the home the two of you once shared together. It was silent on the way there, not even the radio turned on for just some form of noise. It was quite emotional for Tom walking back inside the house, looking around and seeing everything was pretty much identical to how it was when he left. His mind replaying all the memories you both shared in different places all over the house.

“Do you want anything?” you asked. He simply asked for a glass of water and you nodded, heading over to the kitchen. It made you frown slightly, remembering what had happened here only the day before. You quickly filled up the glass and then headed back to where Tom was standing, admiring the living room with a tiny grin.

“Why are you smiling?” you asked. He turned his head in your direction, not even realising he had been smiling, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“I don’t really know, i-it just hasn’t changed,” he said. You could still see traces of a grin as you handed him a glass of water, telling him you were going to take a quick shower.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, heading up the stairs to finally have a moment to yourself for the first time in two days.

You didn’t take very long. Taking a quick shower like you said and then drying your hair so you didn’t catch a cold in the winter weather. You got Theo’s stuffed bear that he sleeps with, his blanket and then some new pyjamas for him and you were ready to head back.

“Got everything?” he asked. You nodded, handing him the bear and taking the car keys from him.

“I want to drive,” you stated. You didn’t really know why, but a part of you just wanted to. Tom didn’t argue with you, following you out to the car and climbing into the passenger side.

There was a brief conversation this time around, however still not much, the silence filled with more awkward tension.

“Is this the bear I got him when he was born?” he asked, playing with the small piece of ribbon that was tied around its neck.

“Yeah, he loves it,” you told him. You noticed him wipe away a stray tear that ran down his cheek, making your heart pang in your chest. You reached over the console of the car with your hand, lacing your fingers with his while keeping your eyes on the road. His eyes widened and he stared at you, heart filled with hope, your eyes never glancing over in his direction.

It felt like Deja-vu arriving back at the hospital, except this time you knew where you were going. You entered the room to Nikki sitting quietly beside your still sleeping son, a smile spreading across her face, the woman noting how much better you looked already.

“I should start heading home.” She gave you another tight hug, Tom offering to walk her out because of the now darkened night sky. You bid her a simple goodbye, waiting until they were out of your sight to head over to your boy.

So while Tom went to take his mum to her car, you planned on giving Theo his bear, gently cooing to wake him up.

“Mummy?” he asked groggily. You smiled, handing him his bear and kissing his head.

“You can go back to sleep now, bub.” He hummed, nuzzling his head into the soft fur of the stuffed animal. You also placed the soft blanket over top of him, knowing the thin hospital sheet did little to keep him warm.

“Thank you.” He whispered, adding a quiet goodnight that made your heart swell.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

<<<>>>

The next morning, you were informed by his nurse that Theo needed blood tests and some other evaluations to check everything was okay. You knew it was going to be a long day for the four year old so you tried your best to plan out in your head where he could take quick naps in between his check-ups to keep him energized enough.

He didn’t seem fazed by the information when you told him, having no negative experience to relate to having any kind of needle; at least not that he can remember.

Unfortunately for him though, the blood tests were first, meaning he was going to have to deal with a sore arm all day.

The three of you were guided by a nurse to a small office, one with all different kinds of confusing machines that you didn’t know about.

You helped Theo up onto the examination table, still standing close by.

“Mummy?” he asked, his big brown eyes staring up at you nervously.

“Yeah, bub?” you asked, kneeling down so you were just a bit lower than him sitting on the table.

“Can I sit in your lap?” he asked, nervously fidgeting with his hands..

After checking with the nurse, you nodded your head. “Of course you can, come here.” You helped him climb into your lap, sitting with his back against your chest and your arms around his stomach. Tom stayed near the door, ready to leave if it got too much for him; he never was very good with needles, or seeing Theo cry.

The woman explained to Theo that she was just taking blood for them to examine and find out what was wrong. He nodded his head enthusiastically, ready to let her do what she needed.

She prepared what she needed while Tom nervously bit at his nails, seeing the reassuring smile you sent his way.

“This is going to hurt a little bit buddy,” she said, finally pressing the needle to the vein in his skin. Tom winced even before Theo did. The boy clearly hated the feeling, beginning to cry softly from the pain of the syringe in his arm.

You saw Tom struggling in the corner, tears welling up in his own eyes as he watched his son squirm in pain.

“You’re okay, bub,” you whispered reassuringly, kissing his head and his cheek, trying to calm him down enough for the woman to take the blood safely. When she’d gotten what she needed she took the needle out, cleaning up his skin and letting him choose a themed plaster.

“Which one would you like?” she asked, showing him his options. His eyes widened and any trace of sadness was gone, pointing straight to the blue and red masked figure.

“Can I have a Spiderman one, please?” he asked. You giggled, seeing her nod her head. She gently flattened it over his skin, making sure it was properly stuck down.

“You can go back to your room, we’ll run some tests and then we’ll be with you as soon as we can.” She informed you both. You nodded your head, helping him off your lap and letting him take Tom’s still sweaty hand.

“Hey, Theo,” you cooed, bending down to his height. He looked at you with a small smile, letting you wipe the drying tears from his face. “That wasn’t so bad was it?” you asked. He shook his head, showing you his plaster again.

“ ‘Cause I’m a big boy, mummy.” You smiled, nodding your head.

“And, you’re just as strong as Spider-Man,”

you whispered.

“And Hulk?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“Even stronger than Hulk,” you confirmed. He giggled, letting go of his dad’s hand to wrap his arms around your neck, being careful of his sore one. You rubbed his back, continuing to praise him for how good he was. You didn’t notice how Tom was staring at you with complete adoration. His heart was melting seeing you interact with your son like this, having gone without witnessing it in person for a while.

He ran back to Tom, gripping his hand and showing off his Spider-Man band aid to his dad proudly. You smiled, shaking your head, following behind them as they walked back to his room.

He was already used to the routine by now, running to his bed when you all entered the room.

“Okay bud, we’ve got a couple hours until they do some more testing, d ’you wanna take a nap or watch a film with me and daddy?” He sat quietly as he thought about it, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration so he could make the right choice.

“Can we watch Iron man?” he asked. You nodded your head, knowing that was one of Tom’s favourites as well and he’d be more than happy to agree. He jumped down, clinging to you while Tom set up the film on his computer.

You grabbed the fluffy blanket you’d brought the day prior, throwing it over your laps to help you get comfortable enough to watch the two hour film. He cheered quietly when it started, being scooped up into Tom’s lap so the two could quietly talk about it, something that had always annoyed you.

You knew it was going to happen, barely even halfway through the movie Theo had started to fall asleep in Tom’s lap, his head resting on his chest. His head kept falling, making him snap his eyes awake and pretend as if he was still watching the film playing on the laptop.

You giggled, trying to tame his messy hair with your fingers.

Tom eventually placed his large hand on Theo’s head, basically smushing his cheek against his chest, softly stroking his bedhead, helping to keep him in place so he could fall asleep. His other arm was around his back, making sure he didn’t fall backwards off his leg.

“He’s missed you.” you said after a while, catching Tom’s attention, forcing him to move his eyes off his sleeping son to look at you. He smiled, kissing the top of his head.

“I missed him too,” he admitted. You and Tom watched as much as you could of the film, checking the time every so often.

Fifteen minutes before his next set of tests were due to start, Tom gently cooed the boy awake, with soft whispers and kisses to his head. He whined, trying to hide his face and fall back to sleep.

“No, no, you’ve got to wake up bub,” he said. Theo begrudgingly opened his eyes, lifting his hand to rub the sleep from them and look at his surroundings.

“ ‘m tired.” You pouted at him, leaning forward to try and tame his messy curls.

“I know, but you can take another nap later.”

The rest of the day dragged on for the boy. He was practically a zombie by the time he was finally able to go to bed, even with the frequent naps.

You had once again taken the seat beside his bed, running your fingers through his messy hair to try and soothe him to sleep quicker.

He was out like a light in minutes, cuddling even deeper into the pillow.

You let out a sigh, slowly moving away from him to lean back in the chair, realising just how uncomfortable you were. Your constant shifting caught Tom’s attention, his gaze burning holes through you, making your face flush.

You noticed Tom trying to keep his eyes open, looking like a little puppy every time he’d slowly shake his head, trying to shake away the impending sleep.

“Hey.” you whispered, catching his attention, again. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

He shook his head, assuring you he was fine. You rolled your eyes at his blatant stubbornness, remembering this is how he’d always been.

“Why are you so stubborn?” you asked, not meaning for it to come out of your mouth sounding so vicious.

“I wanna stay and talk to you.” You were convinced your heart had stopped beating. You cocked your head in confusion.

“You do?” you asked. He nodded his head, a small smile on his lips as he watched you get over the initial shock you were in.

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” His smile faded, worry forming in the pit of your stomach.

“C-can we talk about us?” he asked, his voice sounding just as unconvincing as his body language looked. You took pity on him, slipping your hand into his, the one that was resting in his lap.

“I guess, but what is there to talk about?” Tom seemed defeated already by your unenthusiastic answer, it sounded to him like you didn’t want this, but after seeing you again yesterday, he was determined to win you back.

“I never really apologized for everything I did,” he said. “I was a dick, and then I just left you both.” You’d spent months hating Tom for him just leaving you with a toddler, but looking at his face now, you could tell he felt awful.

“I want to do better, be a better dad-“ You cut him off, shaking your head.

“You’re an amazing dad.” You saw the hint of a smile when your words registered in his head.

“I want to be better to you, Y/N.” You froze, staring into those brown eyes, trying to see if he meant it. “I’m so, so, sorry, for everything I did,” he whispered.

Over the course of his apology he had managed to shuffle closer to you. Your knees now touched, preventing him from coming any further forward.

“Do you ever think you could give me another chance?” he asked, almost scared to know the answer. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand.

“Only if you can promise me one thing.” You explained. Tom’s eyes widened, his heart beginning to race.

“Anything,” he mumbled, fully prepared to dedicate himself to you and your child.

“Please come home.” It wasn’t a difficult decision for time this time around like it was the first time. As soon as he saw your puppy dog eyes, he was sold. He rapidly nodded his head, making a mental note to deal with work later.

He reached his hand up, cupping your cheek, seeing you nuzzle your face closer to his touch. You placed your own hand on top of his, turning your head to place a quick kiss on his palm.

“I know i fucked up, big time,” he reiterated, emphasising the big time and pausing for a minute, rubbing his free hand over his mouth. You watched him intently, the thing that was probably making him most nervous.

“But, do you think we could try again?” Your silence scared him. He didn’t know if he’d ever been this worried to hear an answer from someone.

“Yeah, I think we could give it a go.” Tom grinned, his cheeks flushing a light pink shade. He couldn’t wait a second longer, leaning in to press his lips onto yours. The kiss was perfect. Slow, passionate, everything you’d missed since you’d broken up. “But you’re going to have to prove you’re sorry,” you said.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised. “I’m really glad to have you back,” he whispered, his forehead leaning on yours and his hand massaging the back of your head. Part of you was screaming that you shouldn’t have taken him back that quickly, but the other part of you had been waiting for him for two years, and you were so happy to have him back.

“Me too.” The moment wasn’t very long lived

after you heard the blankets on the hospital bed rustle, turning your head to see Theo pushing himself into a sitting position. “I think someone else will be too.”

The little boy stared at you both in confusion, not understanding what you were referring to, or why you were suddenly so close again.

“C’mere buddy,” Tom said, motioning for Theo to climb into his arms. The boy climbed down from the bed with minimal struggle, running towards Tom and colliding with him with a loud giggle. Tom made a grunting noise, whining about how strong Theo was and how that hurt.

The boy just laughed at his dad, telling him to stop being silly.

“Do you want to tell him?” Tom asked. You shook your head, flashing him a smile.

“You got this,” you said. Theo looked between you both confused, having no idea what you were talking about, but the nosey part of him really wanted to know. Tom grabbed the boy’s full attention.

“So, daddy’s going to be coming home, is that okay with you?” His eyes widened, his head whipping in your direction, silently asking if it was true. You nodded, your heart melting as tears welled up in his brown eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Tom cooed, rubbing his back as he buried his head in his dad’s chest. He glanced at you, unsure what to do in this situation.

“He’s just happy.” Theo nodded, agreeing with what you said.

“Things are finally going to go back to normal.” You chose not to mention anything about a possible diagnosis with Theo, something that would be far from normal, instead just choosing to soak up the moment, rather than burst your bubble and ruin it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, watching as Tom’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?” You smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“For coming home.” He chuckled, kissing his son’s head and then yours.

“You two are my home, no matter where I am.”

<<<>>>

The morning that the doctors announced they had Theo’s results were nerve wracking to say the least. You were panicking almost all day, knee bouncing, driving Tom insane, your hands shaking out of fear. Tom tried to calm you down to the best of his ability, telling you to take deep breaths, holding you or just your hands and constantly trying to reassure you that you needed to be positive. If not for your own sake, at least for Theo’s.

The boy himself had no idea what was happening, he was just happy to be in his mother’s arms more than he usually was, purely because you refused to let go of him.

“Y/N, you have to put him down,” Tom said, trying to pry the boy from your arms. You pouted, scowling at Tom as he took Theo away from you.

“I’m only taking him to the bathroom, we’ll be right back,” he promised, softly kissing your lips before taking him out of the room. You sat down on the hospital bed with a sigh, picking up his teddy and beginning to fiddle with the ribbon tied into a bow around its neck.

You were too in your own head, thinking, to notice Tom come back. You jumped when his hands slid onto your shoulders, turning your head to see his sympathetic expression.

“I know this is hard, but please, just for him,” you nodded, trying your best to put on a brave face for him.

You spent the next few hours watching one of Theo’s favourite cartoons, one you’d seen a million times before, the time seeming to pass by ridiculously slowly for you. Tom was laughing along to the children’s show, making you roll your eyes and cuddle closer to him. It wasn’t until halfway through, possibly the thousandth episode, that the nurse finally entered the room, saving you the torture of having to watch another episode of the cartoon again.

“We’re ready for you,” she smiled. Tom instructed you to take a few deep breaths.

They led the three of you to an office to discuss, letting you take a seat and having Theo sitting comfortably in his dad’s lap.

It felt like you were in there for hours. You knew you should’ve been listening to what they were saying but you couldn’t concentrate at all.

You were pretty sure the woman had started by explaining the reason Theo had fainted and reacted like he did a few days prior. Everything was falling on deaf ears to you, just sounding like muffled noise coming from another room.

Tom was nodding along with what she was saying, asking the occasional question that let you know that at least he was listening. Your four year old was playing with the loose strings of Tom’s hoodie, wrapping them around his fingers and trying to make them curl. It was unfortunately the only thing he had to amuse him right now. Tom hadn’t noticed you weren’t listening, or that your eyes were focusing on your baby boy.

Theo noticed though, turning to you and flashing you a gappy smile that in return made you smile.

It felt like your heart was pounding but simultaneously wasn’t even beating, in this moment you were too scared to.

They’d obviously brought up something about the test results, Tom suddenly reaching over to take a hold of your hand, kissing the top of Theo’s head for comfort.

Tom’s sweaty hand was gripping yours like a vice, you were glad that he was here and he’d flown in, because if it was bad news, you don’t think you could do it alone.

Your mind went blank, not registering any medical words she said until you recognised the two words that made your heart begin to beat again.

“He’s okay.”

You let out a breath of relief, turning to Tom with a grin. He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick hug before showering the little boy in kisses.

You carefully lifted him from Tom’s lap, taking him in your arms to give him the tightest hug you could muster. The doctor explained that you were then free to go, letting you go back to collect your baby's stuff and tell him the good news.

“I hope we never have to do this again,” you mumbled, laying your head on Tom’s chest. His hand came up to run over the back of your head, placing a gentle kiss on your crown.

“Me too, but look on the Brightside,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips, “We got our family back.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, I guess we did.” You and Tom both turned your heads to look at your energetic baby boy, happy to finally be allowed to take him home again.

“Are you ready to go home, bub?” you asked. You saw his eyes light up, his head nodding rapidly as he clutched your hand. He grabbed his teddy bear, leaving you and Tom grabbed the rest of his stuff.

The three of you left the hospital for what was hopefully the last time. Theo practically skipped to the car, telling you both how excited he was to sleep in his own bed again. Your heart was warm as you looked at your little family, completely over the moon to have them back.

The first thing Theo did when he got home was rush upstairs to his room, telling you he was going to take a nap in his own bed. You shook your head with a smile, feeling Tom’s arms wrap around you. He guided you to the couch, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He started to look around again like he had the other day, taking it all in.

“It feels really good to be home.” You grinned at him, practically attacking him with a sweet kiss. He laughed, letting you pin him down on the couch playfully. “I still can’t believe I gave this up, he said, pushing a few strands of loose hair behind your ears.

“Don’t think about it now, okay?” He nodded, straining his neck to kiss you again.

“Mummy, daddy?” Your head perked up at the sound of the little voice, turning your head to see him coming down the stairs. You climbed off of Tom, giving him the opportunity to sit up.

“I thought you were taking a nap bub?” He pouted, clutching his bear to his chest.

“Will you come with me, just until I fall asleep?” You nodded your head, not giving Tom a chance to answer before you were tugging him with you. Tom scooped him up, carrying the tired baby in his arms.

“Why don’t we get in Mummy and Daddy’s bed,” you said. Tom tried to conceal his smile at what you’d called it, happy you were so ready for things to go back to how they were.

Theo climbed in your bed first, laying right in the middle with a sleepy grin. You got in after, watching Tom stop to take in how much the room had changed.

“I pretty much got rid of everything that reminded me of you,” you explained. He frowned, nodding his head and climbing under the covers of the bed. “ ‘m sorry,” you said.

He shook his head, grabbed your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I deserved it,” you giggled, nodding your head. Your eyes were locked on each other.

“You kind of did.” Theo made a sound of disapproval between you both, trying to get you attention to be on him.

“Sorry bub, were we not paying attention to you?” He shook his head, laying it on your chest just under your chin. You smiled, your heart melting at his affection.

“Goodnight angel,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. He curled deeper into your chest, a smile spreading across your face.

“Goodnight, little man.” Tom gently ran his hand over the back of Theo’s head, earning a hum in response from the boy.

“You know,” you started, keeping your voice quiet so the boy could sleep, “I’m pretty tired too.” You yawned. Tom threw his arm over you both, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, keeping Theo tucked securely between you two.

He chuckled at your sudden sleepiness, lifting his hand to run through your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep.” You tried to bite back your smile, feeling him shrug his shoulders playfully.

“S’okay, go to sleep.” He smiled, nuzzling his nose into the top of your head.

“Will you be here when we wake up?” you asked, sounding like a scared child.

“I’ll always be here, now and forever baby.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @drie-the-derp @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @iwearheadphones @kerrswriting @geminiparkers @blossomparkers @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys @itstaskeen @icyhollands @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @starkweasley @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #ceo!tom #dad!tom #tom holland angst

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

13 - like father, like son.

previous chapter abandoned

m.list.

tw - angst, kidnapping, mental health, blood, violence.

*this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

jaemin gave your meds.. before taking his pillow and turning to leave you alone in his room..

the words broke free before you could stop them ..

“you’er leaving?” you bite your tongue but it’s too late now.. you hope he doesn’t see your neediness that hide behind the haste question..

“yeah.. I’ll sleep on the couch” ..

he curtly answers and turns his back to you and leaves, not giving you a chance to speak again..

You were woken up by the intruding headache.. you feel too warm you try to move but the room spinning around you threting to disappear,

you call jaemin .. you’er not sure your voice is hearable..

But the light that slipped through the cracking door assured you that your calls were heard, his shadowy figure nearing you bringing with it a sense of relief ..

“I don’t feel good.. “ you whine to him ..

His hand reach to your forehead ..

“you’er burning” ..

he stroke your cheek, his tender touch brings you to tears.. you lean your face deeper into the balm of his hand..

You needy gesture goes unnoticed by him as he withdraw his hand taking with the warm you craved..

“This is not good.. we need to take you to the emergency room"..

He turns on the lights and opens his closet.. he take out one of his hoodies and returns to your side, he sits you up ignoring your winces.. he slips your head through it and guide you arms in it.. he retrieves to come back with white socks he slips your feet into them..

He leaves you for a minute to put his coat and shoes on, he picks his car keys .. phone and wallet, he doesn’t forget your fake id ..

“Ok come on.. “ he crouch in front of you and picks you up.. you try to protest claiming you can walk by yourself but he holds your thighs and lefts you to circle them around his waist, you cling to him like a child.. you lay your spinning head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent, finding comfort in his warm strong body..

He walks with ease, he’s not effected by your weight.. he opens his car door and helps in the passenger seat before he clips your seat belt, he gently shuts the door and walks to the driver side..

“Remember.. your name is sera, if anyone asks .. im your boyfriend and we live together” .. you nod

“You slipped in the shower last week and lost the baby..”

“ I slipped in the shower ..” You repeat to yourself before nodding..

The car ride was silent, you rested your head on the cold window.. he checks on you every now and then ..

“we are almost there..”

The car comes to a stop and you open your eyes and unbuckle the seat belt.. he opens your door but notice you don’t have those on.. “wait here..”

He opens the trunk and gets you a pair of crocks and lays them on the ground infant of you, you slip your feet in them and he helps you stand.. you wobble and use his arm to stabilize yourself..

“can you walk?” ..

You nod.. sniffling the fever tears..

Everything feels like a blur.. you sit at the waiting area leaning on his shoulder while he fills the admission form.. Soon the nurse calls your name and he answers for you..Your temperature had risen while you were waiting, you’er unable to hold yourself straight now, your eyes rolled back, your senses discounting from your surroundings.. you feel him around again you as he pick you up..

He lays you on the hospital bed .. the nurse checks your vital signs while acquiring him on your condition..That was the last thing you remember before blacking out ..

You return to your senes and open your eyes to the bright emergency room.. jaemin and a doctor talking behind the curtain ..

“You have to take care of her.. miscarriage is not easy, she will need your support physically and emotionally, keep her well rested and make sure she eats.. masseur her temperature every six hours, if it rises over 38 degrees bring her back as fast as you could”.. “don’t worry she’ll be fine.. you can try again later”..

They open the curtain to see you awake..

“Sera.. hello, sorry for your loss.. how are you feeling now?”

the doctor checks your temperature..

“Better.. “ you mumble..

“You scared us just now.. your boyfriend thought he’ve lost you” he jokes but no one laughs ..

“Anyway, I will give you probiotics to fight the infection, take fluids and rest and eat well ok?” He writes the predictions and hands it to jaemin before he leaves..

Silence falls heavy.. unspoken words hangs in the air but you ignore them.. You watch the iv drip in consonant rhythm.. jaemin clears his throat getting your attention.. “I got you this.. from the gift shop”

He hands you a teddy bear.. weak smile emerging on your tired face ..

“you shouldn’t have”..

The nurse came and took out the iv needle, you signed the release papers and left the hospital..The drive back although silent, but it had a different feels.. he rolls down the window, allowing the night breeze to flirt with your hair.. You inhale the city air, you watch the lights pass you by..

He stops the car as he passes over a bridge..

“wanna take a walk?” ..

You perk up .. “do I? Yes I very much do” .. you were beyond ecstatic.. your happy demeanor puts a smile on his grime features..

You open the door step out.. he follows you out, you look at him for approval .. he nods to you, you walk away from him .. you look around the empty street, you lean on the rails of the bridge to look down at the dark waters beneath it, the city lights reflecting over the surface to the river..

You take a deep breathe, you do your best to savor the moment.. He stays behind, leaning on the hood of his car.. You turn to look at him ..

“why are you being so nice to me?”..

You question his motive..He shrugs..

“you’er sick..”

You take his answer without any doubt and walk towards him, holding eye contact..

“thank you..” You wrap your arms around him in gratitude ..he dose the same.. you soak in his affection for a minute before pulling away..

“promise me you will never do it again sera..”

He tugs a hair stand behind your ear..but no matter how much you want to please him you can’t promise him you will never run to your freedom when given the opportunity..

he sigh and tilts his head sensing your refusal .. “I don’t want you to get hurt, I don’t want to hurt you”..

“Then don’t.. just let me go!”

“You know I can’t do that” ..

here it is.. the cruelty.. you look away from him.

you both remain quite for an awkward moment..

“It’s late.. let’s go home” he speaks first..

he opens your door for you, crushing your heart.. he shouldn’t played with you like that.. he gave you hope and stole it back..

The door slams shuts and he gets in..

The drive continue yet again but this time in dreadful, ugly silence ..

#nct yandere #nct mafia #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct angst #nct agnst

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just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh · 3 years

Text

Waiting Room

Summary: Stiles is badly hurt, with only y/n to save him

Pairing: None in particular but sort of reader X Derek?

Warnings: Mentions of blood and fighting, also talk of hospital

Word count: 2188

Original piece please don’t copy :)

----------

Sitting in the hospital chair with your head in your hands you focused on your breathing.

Out

Flashes of claws plagued your vision, swiping before you.

Out

You scrunched your eyes hearing the piercing sound of your own scream, the eerie sound playing back in your mind, filling your head.

Out

You sat up leaning back against the plastic chair, rubbing your face up and down trying to regain some perspective. You stood up, unable to sit in those horrid chairs any longer and also wanting to be moving, anything to distract yourself.

Pacing back and forth in the hallway you consistently looked up at the closed doors in front of you.

‘SURGERY – Authorised personal only beyond this point’

The door stood still, you begged for it to open, for someone to come and tell you, they were okay, that they would survive. You needed something, anything to hold on to. Even false hope was still hope right?

Shaking your head, you sat back once again on the hospital chair.

***

“Y/N RUN” Stiles screamed.

You barely had a chance to face the boy before you were knocked to the ground, the cold floor welcoming your body. Whatever it was that knocked you was now headed towards stiles. You blinked a few times, trying to stop the world from spinning around you. You pulled yourself up against the lockers that lined the boys changing room. Wincing as you touched your forehead, your fingers instantly becoming coated in blood. You looked up and saw Stiles slowly backing away from a large figure, his arms up in defence. You could see his mouth moving, but the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing Stiles’ pleas.

Eventually Stiles had retreated as far as the room would allow, feeling his back against the wall, his hands searched either side of him, a failed attempt at finding something to defend himself with.

The assailant’s hand was raised, his claws gleaming in the poorly lit locker room, and in one swift motion he had sliced Stiles’ stomach.

You screamed as his body slumped against the wall, the attacker simply left the room, disinterested in continuing the fight he thought was futile. Stiles’ torso began turning ruby red, the blood coating his middle in moments.

Scrambling to your feet you ran to him.

“Stiles? Hey, it’s okay I’m here I’m here” the words came out weaker than you intended. He looked up at you, his hands covering his stomach, a useless attempt at stopping the bleeding. You looked around the room, you needed to stop the bleeding. Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench you wrapped it and placed it on his abdomen, he grimaces at the sudden pressure.

“I’m sorry okay, I gotta stop the bleeding, just stay with me okay? Don’t you dare leave.” His slight head nod was all you needed to know he heard you.

“You gotta keep talking to me okay? I need another towel, and I’ll call an ambulance, or I’ll call Scott and we will get out of here okay?” You pleaded, trying to convince yourself it was going to be okay. You had seen injuries like this before and they always put pressure on the wound trying to stop the bleeding so that’s a good place to start. Your mind suddenly racing, scrambling to remember information they taught you in that stupid first aid course the school made everyone take. Logical and rational thinking was the only thing that would give Stiles a fighting chance. Placing Stiles’ hands over the now blood-soaked towel, you stood taking a deep breath, and began looking for more supplies.

“Talk to me Stiles, I need to hear you.”

“I don’t want to die at school.” He whispered.

“You’re not going to die; I won’t let you okay? Who else is going to tell me when I’m being dramatic or bring Scott and I into the woods at 1AM looking for a body? Who else is going to defend me even when I’m not there to defend myself? Who else is going to make me laugh when all I want to do is cry?” You finished your sentence as you kneeled next to Stiles, your arms filled with towels. Removing one you replaced it with two more, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You gotta tell my Dad, y/n”

“What? Tell your Dad what?” You were focused on his stomach, placing towel after towel anywhere you saw red.

“Tell him I love him okay?” Your breathing hitched in your throat and you looked up at the boy. His face was pale, more so than usual. His eyes lacked the spark that normally filled them.

“He knows Stiles. He knows.” Tears brimmed your eyes.

“You gotta tell him though okay? Promise me?”

“I promise, but you have to promise me something too.” He looked at you, unable to continue talking, allowing you to proceed. “You have to ask Lydia to the winter formal.”

His eyes widened, and mouth opened to object, no sound passed his lips.

“Come on Stiles, if- No- WHEN we get out of this, you have to do it.”

Stiles nodded as his eyes began to droop closed.

“No no no, you can’t Stiles come on.” You reached up to his face, your blood-soaked hands covering his cheeks with the liquid unintentionally. You shook his head and begged him to come back to you.

His breathing shallowed, only a whisper of air exchanging in his lungs.

The next few minutes were a blur. You had called an ambulance and then called Scott. Rode in the ambulance to the hospital and were told to wait outside while they wheeled Stiles into surgery. You stood at the entrance of the doors just staring, unable to move from your spot. Maybe if you didn’t move you would wake up from this horrible dream. Maybe if you didn’t move Stiles would walk out of there telling you it was all a mean joke. And so, you stood. Until a nurse came and asked about your head. You didn’t hear her the first few times she spoke to you, until she placed a hand on your shoulder, and you snapped out of your trance. Your face was wet from the tears you had no idea were even falling, too numb to feel anything other than helplessness.

The nurse walked you to a vacant bed, holding your arms and leading you away from the door you so desperately wanted to stand before. She cleaned your hands, the red painted sink yet another reminder of the events. She cleaned your wounds and stitched your forehead together before placing a bandage on your forehead. Her question didn’t register with you the first time, your eyes fixated on the wall ahead, the imagine of Stiles’ body permanently engraved in your mind.

“Sweetie?” You looked at the nurse. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” The sympathy evident in her eyes and tone of voice. Taking a few moments to answer you searched your mind for who you might want to call. Your parents were out of town on business, too busy with their jobs to worry about raising a child. Scott was already on his way, bringing Derek with him. The face of the sheriff came to the forefront of your mind. Feeling the guilt of having to tell him that his only son, his only child, was in a critical condition all because you wanted to sneak a copy of the test answers from Coaches desk, a fresh batch of tears lined your eyes.

“McCall.” You whispered. “Mellissa McCall.”

The nurse simply nodded and left the cubicle.

‘Mellissa McCall can you please report to emergency bay 3 please, Mellissa McCall to emergency bay 3’ the intercom speaker sounded through the hospital.

Moments later the privacy cloth dividing your bed from the emergency room was whipped open. Mellissa’s distraught face appeared behind it, she ran towards the bed, wrapping her arms around you and tightly holding as your body collapsed into hers.

“I tried Melissa, I tried but there was so much blood and it was everywhere-” you began

“Shhh it’s okay you did great okay?” she comforted.

“I can’t tell him. I can’t tell his Dad, I can’t.” You begged.

“Hey, we will do it together okay? I’m right here.” Melissa always had a way of soothing anyone. Maybe it was her motherly touch or the way her voice had a calming tone to it, but it always helped. Always. After a few minutes she pulled away, told you she was going to call the sheriff and ask him to come down, then she was going to go into the theatre to check on Stiles’ progress.

Leaving your cubicle, you sat on the chairs in front of the surgery. Your head hurt but it didn’t faze you. Losing your best friend was at the forefront of your mind and the thought of not having your cheeky sidekick beside you was too much to handle.

Quick footsteps sounded the halls and your heart raced. You weren’t ready to tell Sheriff Stilinski about his son. Looking up you were somewhat relieved to see Scott and Derek.

“Hey.” Scott said softly as you raised to your feet and were pulled into a tight hug. “Have you heard anything?” Shaking your head, you pulled away, not wanting to make eye contact with the werewolf Infront of you, too ashamed to see the distress on his face knowing you caused it.

Scott stepped back allowing Derek to hug you next. He didn’t let go when you tried to pull away after a few moments, knowing you needed to be held just a little longer. Sniffling, you pulled back, Derek allowing you to this time. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, his hand comfortably placed on you hip.

Collectively everyone looked up at the sound of another person running towards you all. A worried sheriff Stilinski appeared at the end of the hall, sprinting towards you. Before he could ask where his boy was and what had happened, the surgery doors swung open, a gowned-up Melissa exiting the room. She removed her protective gear and took a deep breath. Derek pulled you closer, preparing for the news.

“He lost a lot of blood. Almost too much.” She looked towards the sheriff. “But that boy in there is as stubborn as anything. The doctors believe he will make it.” Everyone sighed in relief and Derek pulled you into his chest, closing his eyes in relief. You felt your knees go weak and let out a soft cry.

“Y/n, you saved him.” Melissa approached you. “If you weren’t with him, he wouldn’t be here.” You nodded into Derek’s chest, unwilling to separate knowing you would have to face your best friends Dad. Mellissa hugged Scott and then the sheriff, both thanking her for her help.

You felt a hand on your upper back, slowly pulling away from the safety of Derek’s chest you turned to face Noah. His eyes were soft, tears falling from them freely, he softly smiled before pulling you into his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered.

“Hey it’s okay, he’s okay, we’re okay.” He replied.

“I didn’t mean it I swear we didn’t know we weren’t alone.”

“Y/n stop” He paused, separating the two of you, holding you at arms distance and tilting his head down. “We just need him to recover okay? That’s what you need to focus on.”

Simply nodding you were pulled back into the arms of the sheriff. Looking over his shoulder your eyes connected with Scott’s, his worried expression was replaced with one of anger. Eventually the Sheriff needed to sign some paperwork at the front desk, or maybe Melissa just sensed you guys needed a minute. Either way you were grateful for the opportunity to be able to explain the events to the boys.

“Well?” Scott looked at you expectantly. You sighed and looked at your feet.

“We wanted the answers to Tuesday’s test, neither of us had time to study so we figured we would find the answer key in coaches’ desk and borrow it.” Scott rolled his eyes and breathed out heavily, his mannerisms dripping with disapproval. Derek could only watch on as you continued to explain yourself. “When we got there, Stiles said he thought we weren’t alone, I thought he was just trying to scare me. We got to the boy’s locker room and were about to head into coaches’ office when Stiles yelled at me to run. Everything else is just a blur.” Finally looking up and meeting Scott’s eyeline you saw him deep in thought, the stress of the night’s events, evident in every inch of his face. “Scott?”

“I’m thinking.” He was short.

“There’s one more thing.” He looked towards you, ready to be annoyed with whatever you were about to say next. “Whatever attacked stiles, it had claws.” His eyes widened and looked towards Derek who looked like he had just made the same connection as Scott.

“There’s another werewolf in Beacon hills.”

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moonknightly · 3 years

Text

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Regrets // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1557

warnings // angst, mentions of abusive relationships (not details)

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader, Ethan Torchio x Platonic!Reader

author's note // taglist here. please only let me know if you want to be tagged on that google form so i know what to tag you on, thank you

I KNOW I MADE HER LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE BUT MY ANGSTY ASS NEEDED SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO BE ABLE TO WRITE THIS FIC SOOO... I LOVE VICTORIA, I DON'T THINK SHE'S AN ASSHOLE AND THE WHOLE I BULLY YOU MEANS I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU TROPE IS STUPID IN EVERY OTHER OCCASION BUT IN FANFICTION ITS FINE

also i changed the original tittle because i didnt like it that much

request // yes

summary // Reader is Ethan's best friend and because of that they are around the band a lot. Maybe a hint of jealously, a toxic partner and a visit at the hospital will be enough to change their relationship with Victoria from hate to love. Or maybe the love was there all along.

The first time the two met each other was right after the band finally united. Y/N’s had been Ethan’s best friend for years now, making the fateful meeting inevitable - as well as the obscure amount of time they would have to spend around each other. If anything, the drummer was attached to the hip with his best friend, tagging them along to every show, many rehearsals (there was even a suggestion to come with him on Måneskin’s European tour - it would be a nightmare if they did).

Victoria did not take long to adopt a defensive mode against them, one that not even she could decipher. Maybe it was the way they were just always there, like leech attached to her bandmate, or maybe it was that annoying way they dressed, all out there and attracting her attention, or maybe it was that stupid girlfriend of theirs that just had to make it known they were a couple. She really did get on Victoria’s nerves a awful lot. She was nice, not going to lie, just maybe a little too nice - ickly nice, she’d say. She wasn’t sure why but that girl simply made Victoria’s gut drop every time.

For years, as that relationship lasted, Victoria and Y/N would butt heads, always at each other’s throat with something to say and complain about. What are they doing here again, the bassist would ask over and over again. Just here to piss you off, Y/N would say, walking to Ethan. Other times it’d be the opposite. It just always was… a mess.

Everyone could see the situation the two found themselves into but no one could do anything. No, not until they opened their own damn eyes.

The dislike between the two only grew stronger and stronger as time passed by, with their insults getting worse. Truth be told, no one expected it to get that bad, and now they just hoped to stop.

For a while, Y/N was facing some drama in the relationship, some that could end up pretty bad. Not few were the nights Ethan would get a phone call in the middle of rehearsal, sobbing heard even beyond his phone. Please, please come get me Ethan. I don’t think …. The rest was inaudible for Victoria, not that I care, she would remind herself, moving on with her work.

On occasion she’d joke about it to Y/N. What? Trouble in paradise, cucciolo? Oh well. Deep down she knew she should not say that but she could not control herself. Y/N was pretty put together some of those times, others they’d just snap with no regard to anything. Just shut your fucking mouth, they said once adding a few profanities to explain their anger.

After the fourth time it happened the blonde had gotten genuinely angry. “Ok, enough. Close your phone, Ethan,” she spat out, almost snatching it off his hand. “They can wait.”

“But-”

“No! They have cut short three out of our four rehearsals this week! This is the fifth rehearsal, Ethan, their fourth time! They’re a big kid now, they should not need you all the time.”

In time she would regret those words but in that moment they seemed appropriate. She had grown exasperated at their constant interruptions. Well, most of the time they were not really disturbing - they’d call on a break or just cuddle with Ethan on a break, at a time they had for the solemn reason of relaxing - but Victoria would not admit that. Not to herself and not to anyone.

“Ok.” Ethan whispered the words, silencing his phone with a heavy heart. He had a bad feeling, that he knew for sure, but he did not feel like fighting with the blond bassist.

The hours they worked passed by quickly, feeling more like quick moving water, their session was simply flowing. It was now quiet, maybe around three in the morning. 2.58 AM read the clock on the table. Ethan was sure his best friend was sleeping by now. He’d shoot them a text and then go to sleep as well - lord knows he needed it. Well, not everything always goes as planned.

Victoria was by him when it happened.

His phone started to ring while he was about to walk to his room. Y/N. If he was not concerned earlier that night there was no way he was not now. It was not common for them to call at hours like this, if anything they were usually asleep by eleven, maybe even twelve.

“Pronto. Che? A- cazzo, sì, sì. Sto venendo ora.” showing off my italian lol

“Ethan? What happened?” She was not sure of her feelings in that instant. Why was she even asking him? She did not care about them, right? But no, no, it was not worry. It was fear of guilt. And worry, but that she was not aware of.

“Y/N is at the hospital,” he breathed out, “they- uhm… Their ex hurt them - thank god their neighbor was there and heard what happened. Oh my- if-if-if he was not there Y/N-”

Victoria could not stand seeing her friend like that. She believes that she’s never once seen Ethan this emotional - not negatively emotional, that is. He always keeps his composure so well but this time it just was not possible. The blonde just stood there now, holding Ethan in her arms, whispering comforting things to him, hoping that he’d calm down a bit.

“I-I should’ve answered the phone Vic… It- I could have prevented this. Oh god, it’s my-”

“Ethan no! If it’s anyone’s fault here, it’s mine. I should not have snapped like I did.”

“I- yeah. Yeah, you know what, yeah, it is your fault.” He was sad, he was anxious, he was angry… A whirlwind of emotions really, and Victoria’s statement made him target it to her. “It is your fault Vic, with that-that stupid, stupid, conflict you two have. I’m leaving.”

“Where are yo-”

“To the hospital! Where the fuck else?” Ethan’s voice was rising by the second, as his blood started boiling in his veins. He knew he could not drive there, but he was not about to say it.

“I’ll drive you-”

“No. I can do it on my own.”

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Victoria’s eyes were cast to the floor, unsure of what else to do. She knew that things were taken too far this time, the least she could do was drive her friend to the hospital.

The drive there was quiet. Neither knew what to say. Victoria was feeling guilty, afraid, and even worried about Y/N’s well-being, regardless of whether she could she tried to focus on the road. More injured people would not be helpful. Ethan on the other hand was fuming. He was angry out of his head; at his blonde friend, at himself and most of all that bitch, Y/N’s ex. She was the one to cause all of this, all of it, even problems he was not aware she was the cause of.

As they arrived there there was even more trouble on their way. He’s not family, he’s not a spouse, neither is Victoria. It was always like that. They would not let them pass if they were not either of those things but, god bless that man, the nurse that called him showed up, recognizing the voice and assuring the nurse, on the front, that he was indeed the only person on their emergency contacts, they had to pass. With a lot of complaining they were finally let to pass.

When they walked in the room Y/N was laying on the bed asleep and at first both their minds went to the worst case scenario. “I have given them some painkillers for now. They’ll be ok but some injuries cause severe pain -” he was walking outside along with Ethan.

Victoria was now left alone in the room with Y/N, although it felt as if she was looking at a photo of them rather than the real life Y/N. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say, the only thing that felt right to do at that moment. “It’s my fault -oh my it is! Ethan, he-he wanted to respond to the call by I-I got so angry!” She cried out, now grasping Y/N’s hand. “I can only hope he can forgive me. Hell, I hope you forgive me. It’s my fault you’re-”

“It’s not, Victoria.”

“You are awake?”

“It’s not your fault. I was already here when I called the first time. Neither of you could have changed a thing.” They were so calm - maybe it was the painkillers, she thought. “Thank you. For the apology I mean.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I-”

“Hey, stop! It’s ok. What’s by is by,” they laughed, never missing the opportunity to joke. (you know, bi - by… terrible pun)

“I, uh,” she paused, thinking of what to say next. She remembered a small chocolate bar in her pocket. She was about to eat it when the call happened. “I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat chocolate but I know you like it.”

“Oh my, it’s my favorite,” they gushed, prompting Vic to come closer.

“Come, sit, sit! We can share it.”

“Yeah, I guess we can.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

#måneskin #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin x reader #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis imagine

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 138

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,485ish

Summary: The hospital keeps monitoring Y/N and Morgan. (Refer to this post on why there’s two chapters today.)

The doctor requested that Morgan be held at least twice a day, cause it seemed to be working. Tony was the only one to have held Morgan so far, but everyone understood. Slowly, three weeks passed by. Morgan was doing better, the wires and tubes slowly not needed anymore. Y/N was a different story on the other hand, and that is why the doctor called Tony into her room to talk alone. Tony was sitting at Y/N’s bedside, holding her hand, as the doctor stood at the edge of the bed.

“After have no apparent decline the last few weeks, I was hopefully that maybe we could prepare to wake Y/N,” the doctor started. “That is why I ordered multiple scans yesterday. I got all the results back this morning.”

“And?” Tony breathed out, extremely nervous. He met Rhodey’s gaze through the blinds before focusing back on the doctor.

“And there has been no decline, but there also has been no improvement. After consulting with multiple people, I have decided to keep Y/N sedated for another 3 weeks. Once those three weeks are over, we will wake her, no matter what, and then see what we are dealing with.”

“How bad is this, doc? Really?”

“Unfortunately this is one of the worst cases I’ve seen. But I have hope. Y/N is strong and has been known to miraculously pull through before. I believe that if anyone can get through this it’s her.”

~~~

“I-I don’t know, Nat,” Steve shook his head. “What if Tony comes in and gets mad? I don’t want to upset him anymore than I have.”

“Just hold her,” Nat urged. “It’s time for her kangaroo care and Tony isn’t here yet. That can only mean… just hold her. She’s your niece.”

Steve looked at Morgan in the incubator before sighing. “Fine. But do I have to take my shirt off?”

“Yes,” both Nat and the female nurse replied quickly. With a huff, Steve pulled off his shirt.

“Now, sit in the rocker and I will bring the baby over,” the nurse ordered.

Steve nodded as he sat down. He watched, dutifully, as the nurse picked up Morgan and made her way to him. Nervously, he held out his large hands and let the nurse set Morgan in them. Steve listened intently as the nurse instructed him on the do’s and don’ts and helped get Morgan settled against his chest. He was so mesmerized by little Morgan that he didn’t noticed Natasha taking pictures. He gave his niece a little smile as he rocked her. Rhodey walked in not too long later.

“They’re keeping Y/N sedated for 3 more weeks,” he told them. “She’s hasn’t made any progress, good or bad. They’re going to wake her no matter what, to see what we’re dealing with.”

“How’s Tony taking it?” Natasha asked.

Rhodey shook his head. “Not well. He’s in there right now begging her, and I think God, to make some positive progress, to push through.”

“If she doesn’t… what is this going to do to him?”

“That’s not an option. She has to push through. She has too.”

“Your ma’s going to fight for you, Mo, I know it,” they heard Steve whisper. They turned and watched him. “She’s a fighter, and she would never leave you without putting up one… I was told you enjoy your pa singing to ya. You mind if I try? There’s this song, your ma used to love and constantly sing. I want to give it a try. So bare with me, okay? Okay…”

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high,” Steve began to softly sing, fully focused on the babe in his arms. “There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true… Someday I’ll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops. Away above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me… Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow, why then, oh why I can’t I? If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow, why, on why can’t I?”

Steve pressed a kiss to Morgan’s head. “You keep fightin’,” he whispered to her. “And your ma will too.”

~~~

“Tony,” Pepper called as she lightly knocked on Y/N’s open door. “I brought you some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tony muttered, focused on Y/N’s face.

“You need to eat something.” Pepper slowly came into the room more.

“What I need is for Y/N to wake up… this is killing me.”

“I know, Tony. But there’s nothing you can do but take care of yourself. If you don’t, how are you going to be able to take care of Y/N when she wakes or take care of Morgan.” Tony sighed, and held his hand out. Pepper quickly handed him the bag of food. “Rhodey told us what the doctor said… I’m so sorry Tony.”

“How’s Morgan today? I know I missed her kangaroo care time.”

“She’s doing well. Natasha got Steve to cover for you.” Tony nodded, taking a bite of his food. “I know that you both have a rocky relationship, but I know Y/N would appreciate you both for trying to work together.”

“She’d get the biggest kick out of seeing us without our shirts on, holding Morgan.”

“She would,” Pepper nodded. “It’s a good thing Natasha’s been taking pictures of it all.”

“Yeah… it just sucks that Y/N’s not here to see it herself…” Pepper put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I just want to see her smile and hold Morgan, even if it’s just once… she deserves it especially since—since she never got that with AJ.”

“She’ll get it, Tony… she’ll be able to hold Morgan… she has to.”

~~~

The next three weeks went by extremely slow. But while Y/N was making no progress, Morgan was doing well. Before they knew it, they didn’t have to do kangaroo care with her anymore, which honestly made both Tony and Steve sad. They enjoyed that time bonding with her. Finally, all the wires and tubes were taken off Morgan and she was sleeping in a normal newborn baby bed. She was still in the NICU, being closely monitored, but could be held and visited more.

Tony was impressing everyone with how quick he was catching on with taking care of a baby. He was currently trying to calm Morgan down. She was wailing in his arms and he couldn’t figure out how to get her calm.

“I know, I know,” he said, gently bouncing her up and down. “You want your momma. I want her too… just please stop crying. Please.” She continued to wail, so he changed her position in his arms. “Come on, hun. Do you want me to start singing? I can do that.”

“Um… oh Morgan, when you smile I am undone, my sun,” Tony began singing, chaining the lyrics. “Like at my sun, pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now. Oh Morgan, you outshine the morning sun, my sun. When you smile, I fall apart and I thought I was so smart… My father wasn’t around, my father wasn’t around. I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll make a million mistakes. I’ll make the world safe and sound for you. Will com—“

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed, rushing in with Natasha. “They’re waking Y/N right now.”

“What?”

“They’re waking her right now!”

“Here,” Natasha opened her arms, “I’ll take Morgan. You two should be by her side when she wakes.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded. He looked down at Morgan. “I’m going to go check on your momma now, alright?” He gave her a little kiss. “I love you so much, and I’ll see you soon.” He carefully handed her to Nat, looking worried.

“Don’t worry,” Nat gave him a small smile. “I’ll take care of her.”

Tony nodded and gave Morgan on last kiss before running off with Steve. When they reached Y/N’s room, they weren’t allowed to enter. Standing in front of the window, they could see several doctors and nurses jotting notes down and checking up on Y/N.

“She’s going to be okay,” Steve whispered, mainly to herself. “She’s going to be okay.”

Tony moved up closer to the window when he noticed Y/N’s eyes blinking open. Her eyes found his before the doctor caught her attention. The breathing tube was still in her mouth, but Tony couldn’t help but let out a whimper of relief when he saw Y/N nod in answer of the doctor’s question. With tears forming in both of their eyes, Tony and Y/N made eye contact again.

“I’m right here, honey,” Tony comforted through the window, pressing a hand up against it. “I’m right here.” He could see her hand trying to rest on her stomach, eyes afraid. “She’s okay, Y/N. Our daughter’s okay. Morgan’s beautiful.”

~~~

Tony and Steve were told to wait with Morgan or in the waiting room as the doctors ran tests on Y/N. They were both so nervous, but were relieved at the response they had witnessed from Y/N already. They were both in with Morgan, pacing around a small, private room as she slept in a crib.

“She recognized me,” Tony mumbled, trying not to get too excited. “She recognized me.”

“That means she’s going to be okay, Tony,” Steve replied. “It has to.”

“Yeah… Yeah… you’re right…. I really want to see her.”

“Good,” the doctor came in with a smile, “cause she wants to see you too.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s going to be fighting migraines and light sensitivity for a while, maybe forever. She’s also going to be tired for a while. Again, whether that fatigue be something she’ll be fightings for a little while or life, only time will tell. Her memory and speech is better than we’d hoped. The plan is to keep her in the hospital for at least two more weeks for safety measures. But, Tony, this is the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

“Thank you so much, doc,” Tony shook the doctor’s hand.

“Only doing by job. Now, go see your fiancé.”

Tony looked back at Morgan. “What about—“

“I’ve got her,” Steve said. “Go see Y/N. I’ll follow soon with Mo.”

Tony gave Steve a grateful smile before hurrying to Y/N’s room. When he arrived, the blinds were barely open and he could tell the only light in the room was a lamp. Trying to contain his excitement, Tony took a breath before walking in. Y/N’s head moved slowly to face the door, eyes barely open. A small smile came over her face.

“Hi,” she rasped.

Tony choked on a happy sob. She lifted her hand slightly, waving him over. He fell into the chair at her bedside, grabbing onto her hand and bringing it to his lips.

“You know…” Y/N paused to swallow. “I was hoping for a kiss on the lips. But I guess my hand appreciates it as well.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” Tony’s eyes were bursting with tears. “I’m so happy that you’re okay. I was so worried.” He stood up slightly and kissed her soft and long. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Y/N kissed Tony again before gasping and pushing Tony away.

“What? What is it, hun?”

“Morgan… where’s Morgan?”

“She’s right here,” Steve interrupted, pushing Morgan’s bed into the room.

“Oh.” Y/N held her hand to her mouth as Steve brought her closer. “She’s gorgeous.”

Tony sat on the bed and put an arm around Y/N then gave her head a kiss. “Just like her momma,” he whispered.

“Do you want to hold her?” Steve asked.

“Can I?” Y/N wondered.

“Of course. I’ll hand her to ya.” Steve gently picked Morgan up, who immediately started fusing. “Sshh, sshh. You’re okay.” He moved to the bedside. “Okay, hold out your arms and I’ll set her down.”

Y/N nodded and held out her arms. Ever careful, Steve set Morgan down in his sister’s arms. Y/N swore that her heart could have stopped. She was holding her child. She couldn’t help the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

“She’s perfect,” Y/N whispered. “Absolutely perfect.” Morgan cooed. “Hello, Morgan. I’m your mom… I’m sorry that I’ve been away, but I promise that will never happen again. I will never leave you again…” Morgan began fussing. “Oh, no. Please don’t fuss.”

“Steve and I have been singing songs to calm her down,” Tony told her. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

“I-I don’t know—“

“Just try.”

Y/N took a deep breath before softly starting to sing. “A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep. In dreams you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep. Have faith in your dreams, and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.”

“You’re my dream,” Y/N whispered. “My little princess.”

Steve snapped a few pictures as Y/N sung. Tony was still keeping Y/N at his side, looking over her shoulder to see Morgan. A peaceful silence fell over them.

“Thank you,” Tony whispered.

This caused Y/N to look up at him with furrowed brows. “What for?” She wondered.

“For coming back to us.”

“Always.” Y/N gave Tony a kiss before looking back down at Morgan. “I couldn’t leave—“

Y/N suddenly stopped talking. Her eyes rolling back and she began seizing. Steve swiftly grabbed Morgan from Y/N’s limp arms as Tony rolled Y/N onto her side.

“We need some help in here!” Steve shouted.

As Y/N continued to seize, foaming at the mouth, nurses and doctors rushed in.

“What’s happening?” Tony asked.

“Tony, you and Steve take Morgan and get out of here,” the doctor ordered. “Now!”

“Come on guys,” Rhodey urged, him and Natasha having rushed to the room with the doctor.

“I can’t leave her,” Tony stated. Rhodey grabbed Tony’s arm trying to yank him out of there. “No!” Tony pulled away.

“Tony. Let them do their jobs.” Rhodey tried again.

“No!” Tony weakly tried to pull away again, yet he failed. “Please, Y/N!”

A nurse shut the door once they were out and shut the blinds. Morgan cried in Steve’s arms as Tony collapsed onto his knees on the floor. He looked up at the ceiling.

“Just one break, damn it!” He yelled. “I just want one break!”

next chapter >

I promise that more fluff is coming! And that it will get easier! (Well, until the rest of Endgame comes.) Thanks for baring with me!

I leave for Disney World this week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me…. be respectful and get over yourself.)

Check out the 2 ending titles and possible banners here.

Also, I will be taking all of April off for job hunting and such. Please be kind and understanding. This is important to me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x rogers!reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sister!reader #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark imagine #Iron Man #morgan stark #morgan stark x reader #iron man x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

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parkerslatte · 3 years

Text

Gone Forever

Luke Patterson x Reader

Warnings: Car accident, death

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: (Y/N) is friends with Julie and the boys - she is very friendly with Luke in particular. Not long after the Orpheum performance, (Y/N) dies in a car accident. Luke tries to find her as a ghost.

*****

(Y/N) beamed up at the stage as Julie and the boys performed, she was beyond proud of what Julie has accomplished with the boys. Julie was no longer the timid girl who shied away from music. She was now performing on stage at the Orpheum. (Y/N) was beyond proud of her. However, no matter how proud (Y/N) was of Julie, there was still an aching feeling in her heart. She knew that the boys were going to cross over, she knew that this was the last time she was going to see them.

The song drew to a close and (Y/N) clapped along with everyone else. A single tear fell down her cheek as she looked at Luke, Alex and Reggie. She made eye contact with Luke and he gave her a small reassuring smile. It’s okay, he mouthed. (Y/N) smiled at him once more before smiling at Alex and Reggie who both gave her a smile in return. The four of them took a bow before the three boys disappeared, leaving Julie along on the stage.

After the show, (Y/N) went straight home. Julie offered for her to stay the night, but (Y/N) just wanted to be alone. Julie understood this, knowing how much the boys crossing over had affected her. While Julie went home to find the boys dying (again) on the studio floor, (Y/N) went back to her house and cried on her bed. (Y/N) wished that she had never fallen for the shaggy haired ghost, but it had happened. She knew that a relationship between the two would never be possible for them but at least she could’ve still spoken to him - but now he was gone forever and there was nothing (Y/N) could do.

There was a faint knock on her door and (Y/N) tried to compose herself quickly, knowing that it was most likely her parents, “Hang on, I’ll be a minute.” (Y/N) hastily wiped the tears from her face while getting up from the bed. The door opened and (Y/N)’s heart dropped. She stopped wiping the tears away and stood there stunned.

“Luke?”

Luke smiled at the girl, “Yeah, it’s me.” (Y/N) noticed that he looked different, he looked more alive.

“But, how- how are you here? You crossed over.” (Y/N) said, inching forward towards him.

“Playing the Orpheum wasn’t our unfinished business.” Luke stated, stepping closer to (Y/N).

“What about Caleb? What about his house band? Are Alex and Reggie okay? Does Julie know? Does-” Luke cut (Y/N) off by holding her upper arms gently, “How- how are you doing that?”

Luke smiled again, “Something happened with Julie at the studio, we don’t know what it was but I don’t think we need to worry about Caleb anymore. And as for this-” Luke’s moved his hands from (Y/N)’s upper arms to cup her face, (Y/N)’s moved hers to hold gently onto his wrists, not believing this was real, “I still think we’re dead but we can now touch people. So now, I can finally do this.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean-”

Luke planted his lips on hers, cutting off her speech. (Y/N) kissed him back, gripping onto his wrists a little tighter in surprise. Luke pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. (Y/N) opened her eyes and looked at Luke. A smile stretched across her face.

“How long have you waited to do that?” (Y/N) mumbled.

“A long time.” Luke answered before leaning in and kissing her again.

***

It was a few weeks after the Orpheum performance and everything was going amazingly. The boys had figured out that they could choose when they wanted to be seen and could make themselves tangible at will. This of course made Reggie very happy as he could interact with Ray without it being a one sided conversation. But even Reggie’s happiness didn’t meet the happiness Luke and (Y/N) felt. The two of them were not rushing into things, the last time they had kissed was that night after the Orpheum performance, but the two of them were now extremely touchy with each other. They were always connected in some way, whether that be holding hands, Luke’s arm slung around her shoulder or their feet touching as they sat opposite ends of the couch.

The four band members were sitting on Julie’s couch flipping through all the TV channels trying to find something to watch. (Y/N) wasn’t with them, she had decided to go shopping with her mother that day - of course Luke sulked at the thought of spending time away from (Y/N) since the two had been connected at the hip these last few weeks. (Y/N) had reassured the boy that she would come around later that day.

They flicked through the channels until the word ‘Breaking News’ flashed up on the screen. Julie stopped flicking through the channels as the four band members listened.

“At 4:02 this afternoon, a car was hit in a drunk driving accident. The drunk driver sustained few injuries however the car they hit wasn’t so lucky,” The news reporter said, “The two people in the car, believed to be a mother and daughter, suffered major injuries. The mother was quickly rushed to hospital to treat her, the daughter however, wasn’t as lucky. Seventeen year old, (Y/N) (L/N) was pronounced dead at the scene.”

Tears fell down Julie’s cheeks as she jumped up from the couch, immediately phoning her dad. Luke, Alex and Reggie sat there in shock, their eyes glazed over with tears. It wasn’t until a few minutes later once everything had sunk in, that Luke got up from the couch and began pacing around.

“No, no, no, she can’t be gone. She promised she'd be here and she never breaks her promises,” Luke ran his hands through his hair as tears slid down his cheeks, “Maybe- maybe she’s come back as a ghost, I mean we did right? Maybe she has too.”

Alex looked at his friend, even though Alex himself was distraught over the news, he knew that Luke was hurting much more than he was, “But Luke, we had unfinished business, that’s the reason we came back. And we came back twenty-five years after we died, if (Y/N) does come back as a ghost, it may take her that long.”

Luke took one look at his blonde friend before leaving the house, not before saying one final comment, “I’m going to find her.”

For days after her death, Luke had searched everywhere for (Y/N). He had checked the site of the crash, he had checked her house, he had checked the small cafe she had loved so much. He looked everywhere he could think of and she wasn’t anywhere to be found. Luke didn’t want to believe that (Y/N) was gone forever, but he was beginning to think it.

He collapsed on the side of the street. No one would be able to see him, he made sure of that. All he could think about was (Y/N). If she wasn't a ghost, he would never see her again. He would never get to hug her again. He would never get to kiss her again like the night of the Orpheum performance. Luke just wanted (Y/N) back.

Luke wished that he hadn’t convinced (Y/N) to come around Julie’s later that day, maybe then she and her mother wouldn’t have been caught in that crash. They would have taken another route home and (Y/N) would still be alive and her mother wouldn’t be in the hospital. Luke’s eyes widened, there was one place he hadn’t checked yet.

***

(Y/N) stared down at her mothers body laying on the bed. Her chest going up and down in shallow breaths. Her mother was alive and (Y/N) was happy about that. Her mother was okay and that’s all that mattered. Even though she was hooked up to multiple different machines, (Y/N) knew she would pull through - her mother was a strong person. She would never let something like a drunk driver take her life. (Y/N) had been in the hospital her mother was in the past few days, she hadn’t left. (Y/N) had realised that she was a ghost quite quickly after someone had walked directly through her. (Y/N) even watched as her body was placed into a body bag.

However, since she had died, (Y/N) hadn’t gone to see Julie, Luke, Alex or Reggie. She would have no idea if Julie would even be able to see her. (Y/N) wouldn’t even know what she would say to Luke. (Y/N) had gotten entertainment from people from her highschool posting tributes to her. When there was no one at the computer in reception, (Y/N) went onto instagram and saw everything people were posting about her. She always laughed when someone she hated posted a tribute saying they were the best of friends, it took everything for the dead girl not to comment on the post, but (Y/N) thought that a comment from a dead girl would probably give them a heart attack so she refrained herself from doing so.

Feeling another presence in the room, (Y/N) turned around expecting it to be another doctor but when she saw who it was she stood up. Luke was standing there, he looked clearly disheveled and his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. (Y/N) felt her break, she suddenly regretted not going to see him once she became a ghost.

“(Y/N)...” Luke had rushed forward and pulled the girl into his arms. The girl he had been looking for for days was in his arms.

“Luke,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from the hug and looking up at him, “I am so sorry I didn’t come to see you. I was scared and I didn’t-”

“I don’t care. You’re here, that’s all I care about.” Luke’s hands held (Y/N)’s waist gently.

“So how are the others? How’s Julie doing?” (Y/N) thought of her friend and how she was coping with her death.

“She’s been a bit distant, she hasn’t spoken to us much about it. Alex and Reggie tried to talk to her but she just brushed them off.” Luke explained.

“Do you think she will be able to see me?” (Y/N) questioned.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Luke said, taking a step back from the girl and holding his hand out.

(Y/N) looked at his hand before looking back over to her mother in the hospital bed, Luke noticed this and took her hand in his, “She’s gonna be okay, alright. The doctors and nurses are going to take good care of her. She’ll be fine.”

(Y/N)’s glance lingered on her mother a few moments longer before it finally shifted back to Luke. (Y/N) gave him a small smile, “Alright, let’s go.”

“One thing first.” Luke said before pecking (Y/N) on the lips. (Y/N) smiled before the two of them poofed away.

#julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms imagine #luke jatp #julie and the phantoms x reader

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 1/13 read here on ao3!

my piece for @harringrovebigbang!

Art and moodboard from my amazing team, @monochromegee and @shewritesdirty respectively, to come soon!

~~~~

Six months. Six months and twelve days.

That’s how long Billy has been in the hospital. In a coma. His health rapidly deteriorating.

After one month it was required he be put on a ventilator. Two and his wounds started getting infected. By month three, the hospital asked that a representative be chosen for him, just in case he didn’t pull through.

Neil Hargrove refused. Barked into the receiver something along the lines of, “What do I care if the boy wanted to go and get himself killed?” It was entirely defensive, his voice cracking as he finished his sentence, but the hospital still never contacted him again, not for updates or bills or anything. His wife was far too busy taking care of one grieving child and a lazy husband already to worry about an additional burden.

All of Billy’s extended family was still in California, had written him off years before they’d even left home for Indiana anyways. The moment his mother walked out the door, nobody else wanted him either, so they were off the table too.

The town of Hawkins had been turned inside out by the deaths of more than thirty community members, some of which were still being reported as missing so many months later. Nobody had the time, or in many cases the heart, to take care of the lone survivor.

That left only one person. The one who’d been taking care of him even before he’d fallen into a coma. The one who’d understood him better than anyone else, who’d given him a chance, who’d loved him more than anything.

Steve gets a call from the hospital, the way he is usually woken up these days. Every other morning, as soon as visitation opens, a nurse calls him for a quick update. The duties of a representative for someone unconscious, for his Billy in a coma.

He’s beyond exhausted, dragging himself to and from Hawkins General day in and day out, sometimes bringing Max or a few of the other kids along with him. Mostly because every day is the same thing, walking through the halls, facing the polite smiles from nurses who deal with this on the daily, don’t understand the way it feels to see the one you love on that bed.

If he does hear anything new, it’s usually not good news. He knows Billy is getting worse, but still he sits in that room for countless hours, watching and waiting for the moment he’s struck with a miracle, and he comes back to him.

The hospital is not quite as patient though, and since about month four of Billy’s hospital stay, they’d been encouraging Steve to consider his wards right to die. After so much time had passed by without signs of improvement, the nurses had started hesitating in the doorway when he was around, and offering kind little suggestions that were supposed to push him towards the decision to let Billy go.

Things like, “It’s not really him anymore, honey.” and, “He’s getting worse by the minute, poor thing.”, and Steve’s favorite, the one that made him leave the hospital in tears, “If he wanted to wake up, he would have done it by now.”

But no matter how true what they were saying may have been, Steve really did not want to hear it. The only reason the thought of letting Billy go had ever crossed the minds of doctors and nurses was because of what was on the news, all these up and coming stories about hospital ethics committees that were popping up all over the country recently.

They were being selfish, willing to let Billy die just because they were scared they wouldn’t be able to stand the heat that would come from keeping an eighteen year old boy on life support for as long as they had. Whether or not they actually thought they could save him was a question for another day.

So they would mail Steve countless papers and claims and pamphlets to try to reason with him, to persuade him that the best thing to do was to kill Billy because they didn’t want to deal with him anymore. It made him sick to his stomach, to think that people who were supposedly trained to help people were so hellbent on giving up on a patient.

He wonders sometimes, if they wouldn’t be so hasty to pull the plug had he been an easier case. If his father was more supportive and his biological mother present, or if the government hadn’t worked so hard to cover up the origin of his injuries. Maybe even if his representative was a nice young woman instead.

But there’s nothing he can do about it, so he just crumples the papers and ignores their premature condolences, and goes to visit Billy at every moment he can.

The drive to the hospital that particular morning feels like it takes a whole day instead of the 20 minutes the route actually is, Steve feeling like he’s suspended in time. It doesn’t seem real, taking the stairs up to the second floor, elevators were a no go after the free fall he took at Starcourt, and taking a visitor sticker and a bunch of papers from the woman at the reception desk.

He’s walked this route more times than he can count, but this time he can feel that something is wrong, different. On the top of the very first sheet the desk lady hands him, in bold black letters, are the printed words “Right-to-Die” and Steve already knows what is coming.

The woman gives him a half sympathetic look and reads off her scripted spiel. “The Hargrove boy has been unresponsive for six months now, with no signs of improvement in his condition. The recently instituted hospital ethics board wants you to seriously consider the contents of these forms.”

The words are so hollow, the look on her face mostly bored. Steve guesses this same speech was probably given to a thousand other people who’d come through this hospital, and it makes him feel nauseated just listening to it, her less than genuine pity as she reads off her clipboard, making it seem like she doesn’t even care what she is asking of him.

“It’s of course among your rights as representative to say no, but we want to remind you that he has no quality of life being artificially kept alive, and it might be best to let him go.”

“No, they told me he couldn’t feel anything. He’s not suffering.” Steve insists, and as much as he believes that he is right, the confidence in his voice is false. This was something he’d been thinking about every day for the last half a year. “You’ve kept him alive this long, right? That’s got to mean something.”

“Still, this is about him. We just want you to think about if keeping him alive is the right thing to do anymore when we can’t be sure what he’s going through. When he isn’t himself.”

Of course this was something he’d considered in his own mind, six months is a long time, and it was inevitable that a few times on his worst days, he’d have to think about pulling the plug. It was just so different hearing this nurse who didn’t know Billy insisting on it, it was just so impersonal, and it made him think about the hospital's greed, and how they probably just wanted to save money on ventilators and open up another bed.

Without saying another word to her, Steve walks away without the clipboard of papers, and off to room B-216. Of course he'd known this was coming. They’d been trying to drop hints since the moment Billy stopped being able to breathe on his own, but he’d been in denial. As long as Billy's heart was still beating, Steve had hope that he would recover if the doctors would just try.

Still, as he sits down in the chair next to Billy’s bed, he decides he doesn’t want to call Max today. He takes the desk woman's advice, as angry as it made him, and takes the time to truly reflect on the boy in that bed, with the feeding tube down his throat, the respirator breathing for him beside his bed, the IV in his neck, there because the veins in his arms had been so overused.

His hair is much longer now, just past his collarbones, but without maintenance, his blonde curls are knotted and dull. His skin is unnaturally pale, his freckles faded to nothing, and his whole body is littered with angry, dark red scars. The hole in the center of his chest still isn’t all the way healed, and the nurses are constantly fighting to keep it free of infection.

When he wakes up, they say he will be in immense pain and that he will have forgotten how to walk and talk and probably even breathe on his own. There was a chance too that his memory will have gaps in it, which could mean anything from forgetting what happened to him in July, to not even knowing his own name.

Basically if, no- when he wakes up, he won’t really be Billy.

Steve had always heard about and seen in the movies coma patients who twitch their fingers or moved their eyes, or who really give any signs of life, miraculously waking up and being themselves again, but Billy, he had only done the opposite.

At some point, he has to accept that Billy won’t be like one of those other patients, and, in the condition he is in, all pale skin and open wounds and zero signs of responsiveness, they were only prolonging his death. They had tried just about everything they could thanks to Steve’s willingness to cover the expenses, and, although he didn’t want to believe it, maybe just couldn’t accept it quite yet, it was, as the nurse had said, time to think about letting Billy go.

Not today though. He’d spend today with him at the very least, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind while he still could. The nurses used to say, when Billy had first been admitted and they still thought there was a chance of recovery, that Steve and Max, whenever she could come, should try talking to him, and Steve always did.

He never really has a whole lot to say, not since everything has been calming down recently. There were no more funerals to attend, no more grieving families to take a hot dish and his condolences to. The kids didn’t need him to watch them anymore, and Family Video had decided to lay him off until he didn’t have to make daily hospital commutes and he could work again. Basically, Steve’s entire world was Billy.

So it was only fair that Billy was what he usually talked about, reminiscing about everything they’d gotten to do together before the accident, telling him about what was happening with his sister now that she was getting older, and giving him updates on how many days it had been and how much he missed and loved him. One of the nurses had heard him say that once, seen him lean forwards and press a kiss to Billys forehead, but she had only turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

Today though, it was much harder than usual to think of something to say to him. He always tried to leave all of the bad stuff at the door, didn’t think it would do Billy any good if he could even hear, to be listening to him always complaining or moping about their situation, but with death weighing heavy on his mind, what else was there to think about?

The anger and the remorse and the depression would be for when he went home tonight and downed a whole bottle of Fireball, Billy’s favorite whiskey, and called Robin drunk off his ass at two in the morning to tell her about how terrible he felt.

It was because he loved Billy with all of his heart that he wouldn’t put him through that. Even if it hurt more than anything else to see his love broken down and dying, which was, in Steve’s opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he always wore a smile on his face every day he walked into that hospital room.

As hard as that was, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, Billy's sickness wasn’t the only thing making Steve miserable. He had also been through some unimaginable things himself while trapped in the Starcourt mall, and he didn't come out the other side the same.

Nightmares plagued him constantly, so that when he would eventually come back home from the hospital, he didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes through the night. Being alone for too long warped his perception of reality, made him think everyone he knew and loved was gone, that he’d been abandoned or all his friends killed. He would constantly call to check on them, most of the time drunk and panicking, but they’d stopped picking up after the first few times. There were so many triggers too that could send him back to that night in an instant, where he’d just get stuck again.

And perhaps that is exactly why he can’t let Billy go so easily, because even if it is heartbreaking and makes him feel so empty inside being there with a version of his Billy who couldn’t speak to him or who he couldn’t hold, he was still alive. If he died now, Steve would have nothing. It would be no different from the losses everyone had suffered, the death of the chief of police and at least thirty other community members robbing them of their soundness of mind.

Letting go of Billy would just be another blow, to him and to the tight-knit community who had come so close together after the accident that rocked their little town. You wouldn't be able to tell from the fact that his room was always empty except for Steve or his sister, but the papers had revered him as a hero. Who he’d become after being hospitalized meant his death wouldn't just affect loved ones.

But more than any of that, he just didn’t want to give up on him. Pulling the plug meant sacrificing so many more moments they could have together, losing the chance to move on from what had happened. How could Steve ever know when it was the right time to do that?

When was it safe to say that Billy wouldn’t ever recover, and that they were just stretching out the inevitable? When could he feel right in letting his very best friend and the love of his life die? Deep down, past his initial reaction of shock and heartbreak, he knows he’ll never truly be ready to say goodbye, but that now was that time regardless.

Just like the nurses said, he wasn’t really Billy anymore. Who he’d been was a teenage boy with too much energy to burn, always getting into trouble and always in motion, bouncing his knee, twisting the ring on his middle finger or the locket around his neck, chain smoking cigarette after cigarette. It used to drive Steve insane how he wouldn’t sit still for anything, but now he would give anything just to have that back.

There was no personality left in him, no stupid jokes to cheer Steve up, no pestering his sister and her friends like a big brother does, nothing left in him at all that made him distinctly Billy. Steve wondered if maybe he had already given up.

If maybe, Billy wasn’t even in there at all anymore, and they were holding on to nothing just to feed their own selfishness. Steve wasn’t the most emotional of people, usually panicking before he got upset, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Billy’s, or not Billy’s, chest, and listened to the beeps and hums of the machines that kept him going.

He knew what needed to be done. Just not today.

For now, he holds Billy's hand, unmoving and just warm enough that he could tell he was alive, and whispered to him anything that came to his mind.

If Billy could hear him, he knew he was probably tired of hearing the same stories over and over, thinking of Billy waking up and complaining about Steve being too boring made him chuckle to himself. An instant pang of regret tightens his chest, feeling guilty for being happy.

There was a really sweet nurse about the age of his mother who always checked in on him at the same time everyday, like he was the one with tubes and machines sticking out of his body. Her name was Dale, and she always peeked her head into the room around meal times to ask if he had been down to the cafeteria yet. Usually he hadn’t, and sometimes he still forgot to eat anyways, but it meant a lot to him.

Today though, she came all the way in the room, a sad look on her face, and he had to avoid her gaze entirely to keep himself from breaking down, choosing instead to focus on Billy’s slender fingers where he’d laced them through his own.

“Steve, honey, I know this is really hard for you, it’s hard for all of us when something like this happens, but you need to take care of yourself.” She was just being kind, but he wouldn’t hear it.

If this was going to be the last full day he’d ever spend with Billy, he was going to make it count. A soggy sandwich in the dingy old cafeteria wasn’t worth spending a single moment away from the other boy's bedside. He feels vaguely guilty about it, but he ignores the well meaning nurse, even as she says her generic condolences that all of them were trained to say.

He smooths out Billy's hair, brushing the part that always hung in his eyes to the side carefully, something Billy himself had always seemed to do when he was nervous. It reminds him of the time they tried to do each other's hair and Billy taught him how to make a braid, so he tells Billy about it.

When he hears the distant roar of a car's engine from the open window, it reminds him of the first time Billy drove him home in the now totaled beyond recognition Camaro, so he talks about that. A bird landing on the windowsill reminds him of sitting on Billy’s bed and talking about the seagulls and the beaches back in California where Billy had grown up, so he tells Billy that story too. The phone ringing at the receptionist's desk down the hallway reminds him of the time Billy had called him in the middle of the night to invite him out to the quarry, where they’d kissed for the first time and Steve clumsily asked him to make things official, so again, he told Billy all about it.

It's mostly a comfort to himself, keeping his mind off of the reality of the situation, but then the desk lady announces over the overhead system that visiting hours are over, and it’s time for him to go.

They had been giving him a lot of leeway here at Hawkins General, allowing him to visit every single day and sometimes with a 14 year old, which was strictly against the rules of the ICU. The end of visiting hours was a rule they always stood by though, and despite how much it crushed him to leave Billy by himself overnight, he always did it.

On his way out, he grabbed the stack of papers the receptionist tried to give him off of her desk. He would call Susan in the morning and ask her what she thought. He would try to involve her in the choice, since she’d technically claimed Billy as her dependent after her marriage to his father, who had given enough verbal and written agreements that he wanted nothing at all to do with his son while he was hospitalized that his wife could, and had, stepped in.

He went home that night with the thought in his head that this was the last time he’d do this, and by this time tomorrow, Billy would be dead.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#so excited to start sharing!#chapter two will be on tumblr later today!#it’s up on ao3 already if you wanna get ahead!

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theysayitscrazy · 3 years

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Chapter Three:

Once Kara had given the guys the all-clear to head into Clay’s room, they went in pairs, and Metal convinced Kara she needed to get some food. Jason had to marvel at the relationship between Metal and Kara. He’d never seen Metal act like he did with Kara, like he genuinely cared about her; and Kara seemed to let her walls down whenever Metal would ask her something or call her out on her selfcare.

Jason was headed down to the main entrance of the hospital with Ray, Metal, and Kara. As they walked into the waiting room of the Emergency Room, Hawkins called out to them from across the room. Kara smiled as he and Nic walked over. “Hey, how’s Clay doing?” Nic asked with a friendly smile.

“He’s doing okay,” Kara answered easily. “The guys are with him. I’m gonna head out with these guys for a few to get some food.”

Hawk tilted his head and looked at her. She stared right back him, clearly daring him to say something. “He’ll be fine,” Nic spoke up, looking between the two of them. “We’ll keep an eye on things.”

“Besides, Hawk,” Metal drawled, staring right at Hawkins. “Our girl here needs to take better care of herself, right?”

Hawkins nodded once but didn’t look away from Kara. “Right.”

As they were standing around in circle talking, Kara looked to the left and glanced at a dark-skinned man wearing a heavy jacket and talking on a cell phone. He was speaking a language Jason didn’t know. Her eyes darted back to Hawk as she tilted her head to listen better.

“What’s happening?” Hawk asked her, watching her intently.

“How’s your Swahili?” she questioned him.

“Not great,” Hawk narrowed his eyes on her. “You?”

“Fluent,” she shot back immediately.

“Alpha Seven, sit-rep,” Metal immediately demanded, voice low.

Kara snapped into action, her eyes stayed on Hawk as she spoke, a small smile graced her face. “Fighting age male, dark-skinned, wearing a heavy black coat, speaking Swahili on the phone. He specifically stated that he was wearing a vest and was ready. 2nddark-skinned, fighting aged male twelve o’clock, also wearing a heavy dark coat. It’s 85 degrees outside. There are 34 people in this room. 6 children, 15 women, including Nic and myself, and 9 men not including the four of you. Of the 15 women, 3 are geriatric.”

Jason was immediately on alert. The moment she started speaking and rattling off the statics of the room around them, Jason was able to zero in and see what she had seen in a moment’s notice. Sure enough, there was 2nd possible tango near the wall of windows that overlooked the parking lot beyond the hospital.

“You caught all that the moment we walked in here?” Ray asked.

“Kara can see the matrix,” Metal explained.

Jason turned to Metal and raised an eyebrow. Metal only nodded back at him. Jason looked down at Kara who was still looking at Hawk with a slight smile on her face, being completely inconspicuous. “Alright, how do we handle this?” Jason asked, differing to her and Metal for a plan.

“Hospital policy dictates in a potential hostage situation to immediately call 911 and avoid contact,” Hawkins stated and pulled out his phone from his pocket.

“We need to go into lockdown,” Nic said. “Keep people from entering the building. We could pull the fire alarm,” she suggested.

“We do that, and every door closes and locks, and we’ll be trapped in this room with two true believers and roughly 40 victims. No, we alert the staff and do a compacity close,” Kara turned to Nic. “Nic, send out a code 8 alert. Close the hospital to all incoming ambos and patients. It’ll lock all exterior doors.”

Nic immediately pulled out her phone and started texting.

Kara turned back to Hawkins, “Call 911, discreetly explain the situation,” Kara ordered.

Hawkins walked away, phone pressed to his ear and purposely going in the opposite direction.

“Won’t that draw suspicion?” Ray asked.

“Not if we play off the overcrowding,” Nic answered looking around.

“I’m gonna need you guys to blend in,” Kara said, and glanced at Metal.

He nodded once to her, clearly trusting her.

Kara glanced around the Emergency Department and sighed. They had gathered attention. Both men were watching them. Kara suddenly laughed and grabbed Nic’s hand in an exaggerated belly laugh as she doubled over. “Oh my god! You’re right!”

Nic immediately followed and laughed too, clutching Kara as they stumbled away from their little group over to the check in desk.

The girls finished what seemed to be a lively conversation in front of the reception desk before they both looked down at the check in sheet. Jason, Ray, and Metal headed dispersed amongst the crowded waiting room, looking for a seat that would allow for a clear line of sight in case they needed to do anything. Without weapons though, it was going to be hard.

Jason could see Nic talking to the check in girl who nodded once before she stood up and headed into the room behind the reception desk.

Kara picked up the sign in clipboard and looked it over before she then looked around the room. “Alright everyone, listen up!” she called out loudly over the noise of the waiting room. She waited briefly for the noise to die down before she continued. “Welcome to Chastain Memorial Hospital in Virginia Beach, Virginia, USA,” Kara drawled, adopting her best gameshow host voice, and letting her eyes make a slow and casual sweep of the room. “My name is Dr. Kara Spenser. As you can see, we are quite busy here in the Emergency Department. Yes, Emergency department. It is no longer classified as just the Emergency Room; we are a whole department. A whole department dedicated to ensuring you get the absolute best care you so rightly deserve. So, I have one rule, and one rule only here in my E.D. and that is, ‘My way or the highway. My word is law.’ If you don’t like that rule, I don’t really care. I’m not here to be your friend, I’m here to ensure that you do not bleed out. And there will be no blood on my E.D floor,” she smirked at Hawkins, who had walked back in the room with his phone nowhere to be seen. “So, this how we’re going to things,” she turned toward Nic. “This is Dr. Nevin, she’s going to take our children directly up to pediatrics. Why wait here, when you can wait there?”

There was a bit of a grumbled from the parents of the children, but they slowly gathered their things and their children and followed after Nic, roughly clearing out a dozen people.

Ray’s throat tightened when he saw Naima walk out of the back room behind the reception desk and glance around.

Kara glanced over at her briefly before she launched into her next spiel, “Next we have our lovely elderly patients. You’ve done a lifetime of waiting now, so we’re gonna get you up and out of my E.D. The lovely nurses Naima and Brenda here, are gonna assist you lovely ladies on up to our geriatrics ward.” There was a shuffle as Naima and Brenda helped the three patients to their feet and they shuffled out.

Kara started to pace the room as she continued. “The rest of you, I apologize for the wait. Dr. Conrad Hawkins and I will be with you shortly. We have your check in information. We will go down the list according to who checked in first.”

Jason had to admit he was impressed with Kara’s quick thinking. She managed to clear half the people out of the room, including Naima and the front desk woman Brenda. All the children and elderly were evacuated. All that was left was the four trained Navy SEALS, Hawkins, Kara, two armed men, and roughly ten others that they could hopefully get out of harm’s way before the men decided they were done waiting.

As she finished speaking one of the men, the one that had been talking on the cell phone, had decided he was done waiting and stood up managed to grab Kara as she was walking by. He managed to get an arm around her neck and pull out a gun before Kara could even move. She froze and flashed her gaze to Metal, as the gun was waiving around in front of her.

The gunman started yelling and chaos erupted in the E.D.

“Hey, hey,” Jason tried to call over the yelling of the room, but the gunman yelled louder.

A hush finally settled over the crowd in the E.D while the gunman assessed the situation around him. He was flighty and waiving the gun in front of Kara. His other arm was locked in a headlock around Kara’s neck. She was clawing at his arm to no avail.

“Come on man, let her go,” Metal’s voice was soft and gentle in a commanding sort of way.

Kara’s eyes left Metal’s and landed on the other man in a coat in the room. The man stood up, pulled out a 9mm and turned his back on the crowd behind him. With his back turned, it took Jason all of a second’s decision making to tackle the man.

His gun went flying out of his hand and scattered across the floor at Kara’s feet.

She made a split-second decision and a tossed her head back into her assailant’s head, with a sickening crunch in her ear, his nose broke. He broke his hold on her and she dropped her weight and lunged for the 9mm lying at her feet.

In a trained and liquid move, she grabbed the 9mm, rolled onto her back and with both hands on the weapon, fired off two shots into the extremist’s chest in a tight pattern. His body hadn’t even hit the floor before she turned her body and eyed Jason struggling with the man in the vest. With the gun trained on them, she watched the extremist knock Jason off his back and reach for his torso.

Kara fired off a single shot, straight through the skull.

There was a moment of deafening quiet in the E.D before Kara got to her feet, holding the gun down and aimed at the ground as she assessed the situation around her. Both assailants were dead, everyone else in the room was crouched down, except for the SEALS that were on their feet also looking around for a threat.

Metal slowly walked over and pulled gun out of her hands and flipped the safety into place before he pulled her into a hug. She didn’t even hug him back, just rested her forehead against his chest and breathed in deep, taking in his familiar and comforting scent. “Good work, Alpha Seven,” he stated clearly as he pulled her against him.

Kara had to chuckle softly as she shook her head. “Fucking hell,” she grumbled and wrapped an arm around his waist.

#Seal Team #Seal Team Fan Fic #Clay Spenser #Clay Spenser Fan Fic #Clay Spenser x OC #Sonny Quinn #Ray Perry #Brock Reynolds #Full Metal #Scott Carter #Trent Sawyer #Conrad Hawkins #The Resident

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too.

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground.

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type.

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you.

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air.

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look.

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning.

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh.

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter.

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time.

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air.

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated.

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them.

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate.

“Noted,” Levi snarks.

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding.

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on.

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction.

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi.

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching.

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand.

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

#levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #aot x reader #snk x reader #captain levi x reader #female!reader #hange zoe #moblit berner #eld gin #sasha braus #through the mirror #valkyrie writes #tw:murder #tw:violence #tw:dead body #tw:blood

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bxtchforstyles · 3 years

Text

The greatest headache ever

Harry Styles x Meredith Cooper

(part of the hey doctor series)

When Harry starts getting headaches bad enough to where he has to go to the emergency room, Meredith is there to help. This is the story of how they met.

Warning: mentions of hospitals, slight mentions of needles, just medical things.

Word count: 2.1k

gif not mine.

Whenever Meredith worked overtime at the hospital, those always seemed to be the same days that Harry didn’t have to go to the studio, or the days that Harry had something planned for the two of them.

Meredith was the definition of a workaholic, making it very difficult for her to often go home on time after her shift. Harry tried to get her to take more breaks as the years of dating her went on, but she never let up.

He would say, “baby, I’m only looking out for your health.”

To which she would respond with, “actually, I’m looking out for my patients health.”

She was at the hospital doing rounds, or maybe at the office seeing patients. She was always working.

So, maybe it was unbearable for Harry to never get to see his girlfriend, but when he really thinks about it, her working overtime at the hospital was the reason he met her.

FLASHBACK:

Grueling headaches were an often occurrence for Harry, so it never really occurred that he would end up in the emergency room from utter exhaustion.

“Good evening, Mr…” She looks down to find out what Harry’s name is on his chart, “Styles, correct?”

He nods, furrowing his eyebrows and wincing as another sharp pain echoed through his head.

“Okay, well I’m doctor Cooper. It says here that you’ve been having ongoing headaches for a while, so what made you want to come in?”

“Um…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head, “I was at the studio, and I had been standing for a while and I sorta fainted.”

“Hm,” Meredith looked down, expecting any other injuries, “so, I’m guessing you cut your wrist on the way down?” There was a white bandage with blood showing through it wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“Yup.” He laughed as she began to unwrap the bandage, “Not to sound rude or anything, but you look a little young to be a doctor.”

“Unless you are suggesting that I am incapable because of my age, which I don’t think you are, then I take you saying I look young as a compliment.”

“Of course I meant it as a compliment.” Harry shakes his head with a small chuckle, making Meredith smile.

“Ouch.” She winced along with Harry once the bandage was all the way off of his wrist before she set it on the medical tray next to her. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to need stitches.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, “Are you being serious?”

“Do you really think I would joke about something like that? C’mon, I’m not that cruel.”

She was being honest, and Harry liked that about her. She wasn’t trying too hard to fit the entire doctor role that most of the arrogant doctors did.

She patted his shoulder as she stood up from the rolling stood she was sitting in, “I’m going to go grab a suture kit, I’ll be right back to fix you up.”

“I see you’re taking a liking to one of your patients over there.” Meredith jumped as she stood in the supply closet, turning to find Maggie, one of her friends (and colleagues) behind her.

“What?” She asked as she reached for the suture kit she had been looking for.

“Ya know,” Maggie snatched the kit for Mer’s grasp, “nurses are perfectly capable of a couple stitches, that’s their job after all.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the plastic container with all the tools necessary inside of it back, “I had some free time, he’s a pretty interesting guy, actually.”

“Guy? That’s it?” Meredith sees her friend's jaw drop, “Do you not know who that man is?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in response, “What do you mean? He’s a patient...”

“You’re about to suture the wrist of like the most famous popstar ever, Meredith!”

She whipped her head back around, “What? Who? Wait, what’s his name?’

Another one of the girls who works with the two of them walked up to where they were standing in the hall, appearing to have been eavesdropping. “Does she seriously not know who Harry fucking Styles is?”

The name definitely rang a bell, and Meredith had definitely heard it before, but she just could remember exactly where.

“What is he? A singer?” She looked towards Maggie, making her groan.

“Mer! You literally listen to his music!” Maggie smacked her friend in the back of the head, making her hiss from the sudden contact, “You know that one song that you were obsessed with over the summer, golden?”

Meredith nodded before her jaw dropped, “Oh my gosh! He wrote that song?”

Maggie copied her previous motion, nodding before turning her friend back towards where Harry sat, pushing her forwards. “Go get ‘em tiger!”

When Meredith walked back up to Harry, she stumbled a bit before setting all her supplies on the small, metal table that sat next to his bed. “Sorry that took so long, you are apparently the talk of the town all over the hospital.”

“Ah,” Harry only tucked his lips into his mouth, “really thought I was off the hook when you pretended to not know who I was, ya really had me sold.”

“Um…” the girl trailed off awkwardly, “I didn’t know who you were.”

"Oh, Im sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that you knew who I was.” He spoke, the shock in his voice was still quite apparent though. "I guess after a while of being recognized everywhere I go, I learned to act as if everyone knows who I am, and have the worst intentions. It's the best way for me to assure that my integrity is saved.”

Meredith nods, "I know I'm not famous or anything, but I somehow understand that.”

Harry's wrist was still obviously hurting, she could tell by the way he flinched every time she came close to touching.

"Okay, you may feel a small pinch when I insert the numbing agent, but after that, the stitches should be smooth sailing.” Meredith grabs his wrist, just above his injury, she had the syringe filled with lidocaine in her other hand, "ready?”

Harry nodded before she quickly inserted the syringe, beginning to numb the area. For a moment, it looked as if all of the color had completely drained from his face, his eyes falling closed.

"You doing alright?” Meredith light-heartedly asked, trying to ease the tension as she finished numbing Harry's wrist.

He looked quite dazed, as if he was in a trance, "I think I'm alright.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair, still having that void look in his eye.

Meredith stood up again, "Why don't I go get you a cool washcloth to put on your forehead while we wait for the numbing to fully kick in, you look a bit pale."

Harry smiled, "That would be great, thank you.”

When Meredith returned from the sink outside the procedure room, Harry was still slumped back in the large chair, his forehead glistening with sweat.

"Here ya go.” She smiled, placing the washcloth soaked with cold water on his forehead. He was surprised by the cool temperature at first, but he sighed in relief moments later.

"Okay, so I'm going to get started on the stitches now, if you're all settled.”

"Yeah, I'm okay, go ahead.” He held his injured wrist out to her.

It only took around thirty minutes for Meredith to finish the stitches, and once she was done she was already suggesting other treatments for Harry's headaches in question.

"I honestly think that you are getting these headaches from just pure exhaustion, the symptoms you are describing sound much like the type of migraines I had in med school, and with such a high stress level job, it would make sense why you wouldn't be getting enough sleep, correct?”

Harry bows his head, "It is true that I could probably use a little more sleep.”

Meredith begins to jot something down on the chart, "and some more water, since you also seem to be showing signs of moderate dehydration.”

"Whatever you say, doc.”

It was beginning to get harder and harder for Meredith to keep her level of professionalism, because all she could think to herself was is this super hot, famous, heartthrob flirting with me right now?

It was safe to say that she was beginning to understand why so many girls, including her own colleagues, found this man so enticing.

"Okay!" She quickly broke herself out of her daydream, "I think that's all I can really tell you, sleep more and drink some more water. But, if you start doing those things and you are still getting headaches, please don't hesitate to come back.”

"And as for the stitches?” He questioned, making her furrow her eyebrows.

¨What do you mean?” She countered immediately feeling stupid when he responded.

"I mean, won't I have to come back to get them removed?"

"Oh! Yes, I would say fourteen days." Meredith was mentally face palming at this point as her embarrassment took over.

She wasn’t even a huge fan of his, hell, she didn’t even know who he was a hour ago, so the reason she was stuttering like a blubbering idiot was beyond her.

“Can I just come back here?”

“Yup, I’ll be here.” She says with a bigger smile than she intended as she handed Harry the medical forms for him to fill out.

“Thank you so much.” He said gratefully as she said her goodbyes before walking out of the room and into the hall, where Maggie, and many other nurses stood, seemingly waiting.

An array of questions began to be shouted from many different people, some including:

‘How was he?’

‘Did you get his number?’

‘Is he coming back?’

Meredith was appalled by the amount of shouting going on, when everyone was well aware that the man they were desperate to know about, was only behind the very thin, wooden door.

“Are you guys fucking insane? Patient confidentiality!” She defended, adjusting her white coat before beginning to make her way back towards the nurses station at the end of the hall.

******

Meredith wasn’t expecting to ever see Harry again after he came in to get his stitches removed, which was a long, drawn out process because of Harry’s attempt to stall the doctor.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him again either, she would have been perfectly happy to. He was charming, and didn’t seem too arrogant, which was something she completely adored about him.

But it wasn’t until about three weeks after he had gotten his stitches removed that she felt someone approaching her on the cereal island that she stood in Whole Foods.

��Meredith?” She turned around, being met with a surprised look at Harry. “Sorry, can I call you that?”

She laughed at that, “I mean I wasn’t expecting you to call me doctor when I’m not even your doctor anymore. Can I call you Harry?” She countered his question.

He let out a sigh of relief, remembering how down to earth Meredith really was for being someone with such a high profession. “Well, I’m not your patient anymore, now am I?”

She looked back at the shelves, picking up her choses box of cereal, throwing it into the basket that was hanging around her wrist.

“I guess you do know who I am, don’t you?”

“I do now.” She responded, not really knowing what else to say.

Harry on the other hand, was debating whether or not it would be inappropriate to attempt to make a move on his doctor. Was she even technically his doctor anymore? He didn’t know.

He was always very straight forwards through, which was something he prided himself in. “Would it be weird if I were to ask you out on a date?”

Meredith liked the game that they were continuing to play, the one where he would ask her a question, and she would counter back with almost the exact same one. “Would it be weird if I were to say yes?”

“I guess that answers both of our questions.”

It was safe to say both of them left the grocery store blushing and smiling like idiots.

#harry styles #harry styles blog #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #solo harry #harry styles masterlist #hey doctor series

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind Us - Part 8

Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since your were 4 years old. The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do. But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.

A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.

Words: 2438

Warnings: Trauma, medical terminology, stress, hospital waiting room, all the angst

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN

I hesitated to open my eyes, for fear that I’d wake up and it would all have been a dream. My lips felt warm and pleasantly swollen as I reached my hand up slowly to touch them, keeping my eyes shut. I took a deep breath and lifted my eyelids, coming eye to eye with Dean as he lay next to me staring.

Sheepishly, I smiled and released a small chuckle with my fingertips still glazing over my bottom lip. “Well,” I said meekly. “Not a dream.” His eyebrows were still knitted together as if he was unsure as to what my reaction would be. But the corner of his mouth twitched upward as the hint of a smirk began to spread.

“Kinda was for me,” he said through an exhale of breath as he ran the back of his fingers along my cheek. I leaned into his touch, relishing in the delightful feel of his skin on mine.

“How long,” I asked him.

“How long what? How long have I wanted to do that?” He paused, leaving the silence pregnant with anticipation. He let out a quick breath, looking to the ceiling as he thought. “Six years ago, St. Patrick’s Day. I told you to kiss me cause I’m Irish. You called me an idiot and threw a pillow at my face.” I laughed at his response. “Been hooked ever since.”

I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks as they blushed and a coy smile wound itself across my face.

“Or did you mean how long have I known you wanted me to? Cause that’s a very different answer.”

I ducked my head down, attempting to hide from his view, and buried my nose into the crook of his neck. “I mean, I’d be happy to answer that one for you, too, sweetheart but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” His words dripped with sarcasm as he pursed his lips and left a trail of kisses from the crown of my head and down the side of my face, slowly pulling my head back up to face him.

“See, when things weren’t looking all that great for you? I wasn’t doing so well. I wasn’t the pillar of strength you’re used to on the day to day.” His face returned to seriousness now, and my eyes fixated on him. “I kind of fell apart. No, that’s not true. I completely fell apart. A world without you in it? That’s not a world I want to be in.”

I felt tears pooling in my eyes, but I held them at bay.

“So, my baby brother, he decides he needs to cheer me up. See, he yanks me up to my feet, slams me up against a wall and tells me to stop being a selfish prick. Tells me I can help you by just keeping it together, by staying with you.” Dean’s hand lifted as he pushed my hair gently behind my ear. “Now I’m lost at this point. He’s talking crazy and all I want to do is hide from the world. But the big oaf that Sam is, he wouldn’t allow that.” He leaned in towards me again, pressing a short, chaste kiss to my lips before tucking his chin over the crown of my head.

“Instead, he looks me in the eye, tells me I’m a moron, and lets me go. But not before just blurting out ‘She loves you, you jackass,’ and proceeding to lecture me about how dumb I am.” The smile on his face is beyond genuine and my entire body feels as though it’s turned to gelatin. “That true,” he asks me, his eyes back on mine. The confident smirk on his face is betrayed only by the pleading desperation in his green orbs that are so focused on mine that I dare not even blink.

Slowly, I nod my head, feeling that same blush rise in my cheeks again. “Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking as I did so.

“Thank god,” he breathed out as his lips once again plastered themselves against mine, knocking the air out of me as he slowly wound his arm around my waist. He leaned into me, rolling me over onto my back as he rested his body on top of mine, his hips jutting against my own. I could feel his calloused hands wandering; one tangled in my hair as his fingers deftly caressed my ear lobe as his other held our bodies closer together.

I had wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him with desperation. Dean pushed against me harder as I felt his excitement growing against my groin. I broke our lips apart, breathing deeply as I lifted my hand to the back of his head, entwining my fingers in his hair. He began grinding his hips against me; an act I longed for but subsequently found intolerable. Shocks of pain tore through my abdomen in waves and I cried out, gasping for air as I ground my teeth together.

“Fuck,” I grimaced, wincing. Dean instantly backed away, holding himself almost as if he were doing a pushup.

“What’s wrong?” His panicked voice rang out as his eyes examined me.

I removed one hand from his firm waist and grabbed for my side, desperate to alleviate some of the pain.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath, looking down towards my waist. It seemed instantaneous that I sprang off the bed and frantically searched for the remote control with the nurse call button. A few seconds passed and the pain had ebbed.

“Dean, I’m fine, really.” My attempt to settle him did nothing as I spoke to his back. He was running towards the doorway now, yelling for help.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that he was surely overreacting. Pulling my hand away, I glanced down and took in the sight of dark red blood pooling slowly on the sheet beneath me. “Well, crap.”

Dean walked back into the room, a female nurse clad in dark purple scrubs in tow. He raised his hand and pointed towards my wound, and she immediately got to work. My gown was quickly pushed to the side as she took a look at the damage that had been done.

“You’ve popped a staple out. Haven’t seen that too often!” Her voice was cheery and calming as she smiled sweetly at me.

“I’ll get the doctor and we’ll get you patched up again in no time. Good as new, huh? How are you feeling in the meantime? What’s your pain level?”

“I’m good,” I answered simply.

“Are you sure, darlin’? You look a little flushed.” Her eyes were intent now, taking in every physical cue that she could.

“That, uh,” Dean began with that devilish half smile of his. “That could be my fault.” He held up a finger as if claiming victory. I rolled my eyes in response and watched as the nurse did the same.

She turned her head to face him and took up the absolutely accurate stance of an angry mother about to berate their petulant child. “You do know that she’s recently had invasive surgery, yes?”

I watched as Dean shrank under the nurse’s stare. He nodded solemnly.

“And that a team of highly trained surgeons spent several hours fixing her up and putting her back together again with slim odds that she’d even wake up, let alone thrive and begin healing?” Her question was obviously rhetorical. Dean held eye contact with her and nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” He’d never sounded so young and childlike.

“So maybe, just maybe, we can pause on the hanky panky funny stuff until after she’s discharged, yeah?”

I stifled my laughter as Dean nodded again, and the nurse exited the room, patting his shoulder as she walked by; the smile on her face betrayed the entertainment she had felt at Dean’s expense.

Dean skulked back towards me, lowering himself into the chair beside my bed. The laughter that I had been withholding came pouring out of me, eliciting more pain as I again held my side.

“Geez, Y/N, you’re going to open yourself up more.” Dean placed his hands on my arms, attempting to hold me still.

“Yeah, well. You started it.”

His eyes went wide with incredulity. “How do you figure?”

“You were the one who opened up first!” My cheesy joke landed flat.

Dean rolled his eyes, leaning backwards in his chair as he sighed dramatically. “Good to see you didn’t lose your awful sense of humor.”

I smiled at him exaggeratedly. “I’m delightful.”

He smiled at me again, reaching over and raking his fingertips down my cheek. “Yeah,” he paused. “You are.”

The doctors had swooped into the room, getting me all stitched back together in a blur of lights, antiseptic, and latex gloves. The same nurse had accompanied them, insisting on administering more morphine when she did so.

They moved me into a wheelchair as they waited for my bedsheets to be taken out and laundered. I was struggling to keep my head up as I leaned my temple against my palm, fighting to hold my eyelids open. I could feel Dean’s warm hand drawing comforting circles on my back, but my head was swimming. His soothing voice rang out every few minutes, letting me know that it was okay if I wanted to fall asleep. Encouraged even. But stubbornly, I refused, shaking my head and insisting on waiting until Sam came back.

It wasn’t too long until Sam peaked his head into my room; his long hair unkept and falling in his face.

“Hey, Tarzan,” I mumbled, giggling at my own joke. Both the boys stared at me quizzically as my eyes closed and I leaned further over onto the side, my chuckles growing quieter.

“Tarzan? I thought it was Thor.” Sam’s voice drifted in as if he were speaking through static.

“She’s out of her mind on morphine, Sammy. Don’t worry.” I could hear the jest in Dean’s voice as he spoke from just behind me.

There was a small hint of commotion as an orderly came in with a rolling tray full of food for me. With my eyes still closed, I took a deep breath, attempting to smell my meal. But my sense of smell reacted negatively as I breathed in the scent of hard-boiled eggs, squash and fish.

“Gross,” I protested, grabbing at the wheels of the wheelchair I sat in and attempting to push myself away.

“No. Don’t want that,” I murmured as I shook my head. There was a strong hand grasping my shoulders as someone gently whispered in my ear to relax. “Mom made me lasagna,” I groaned, as large tears overwhelmed my lids and began cascading down my cheeks.

I felt warm fingers press against my cheeks as Dean’s familiar voice repeated my name softly.

“Hey, Y/N. Can you open your eyes for me?”

I stubbornly shook my head, opting for the darkness my closed eyelids afforded me. I could feel panic rising in my chest, and my breaths began coming in stuttered waves. Sam’s voice was screaming into the hallway, demanding a nurse or any sort of help. But my head was swimming. I could still smell the garlic and tomatoes as the cheese bubbled on the top of my favorite dish. I could hear my mother’s voice as she spoke with me. My father’s warm, teddy-bear embrace still ghosted over my arms. But all I could see was black. I longed for the comfort their memories had afforded me.

“Daddy,” I mumbled out as I felt the familiar push of medication run up my arm as forced, restless sleep overtook me.

I woke hours later. Days possibly. The sky outside my window was still dark and the light in the room too dim. Running my dry hands down my face, I pulled myself slowly to sit up in the bed. The ache in my side not entirely unnoticed. Every muscle in my body was sore and resisted moving. I kicked my legs out gently over the bed, glaring at my thighs as I balanced myself on them with the palms of my hands.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean’s voice was stern as he spoke from the chair in the corner of the room. I watched his arms flex as he walked towards me, squatting effortlessly in front of me as his eyes locked onto mine.

“Back in bed.” His words were stern, but his eyes betrayed some sadness that lingered on his face.

“Dean?” My voice was groggy and sounded foreign to me.

“Y/N get your ass back in bed, now.” He sounded almost defeated; an unfamiliar tone for him.

I acquiesced and pulled my legs back onto the uncomfortable air mattress, keeping my eyes set on his face. “What’s wrong,” I asked him. “You seem grumpy.” He took his seat again in the lounge chair next to me, leaning on his knees with his elbows.

A forced, quick breath leaked through his nostrils, full of incredulity. “Grumpy, huh?” He paused. “Can’t imagine why.” His eyes fell to his hands, focusing on the thin piece of fabric that he was fiddling with. He flicked his gaze up to me, following my gaze back down to his hands.

“It’s part of your shirt,” he explained. “Or, well, was.” He paused again. “It tore off in your back there,” he gestured towards my side. “Had to dig it out on the way here.”

I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my surprise. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

He pursed his eyebrows and looked up towards me slowly. “For what? Getting stabbed? Not your fault.”

I reached towards him, surprised when I watched him pull away and lean back into his seat. “See, getting stabbed? Hurt? Happens to all of us. But you,” he said, holding the fabric up towards me. “You were reckless. You ditched me and Sam and did your damnedest to be in more danger than you needed to be.” His eyes shot up towards mine again, that same pained sadness shooting out of his eyes as he let silence stretch between us.

“And here, in this hospital. Some of the things you’re saying, been saying. They’ve got me wondering.”

I let his statement stand, wanting desperately to not discuss the topic at hand. “See, I’m wondering if there’s not something you’re hiding. Something you didn’t or aren’t telling me. And that? That won’t work. That’s something else.” He dropped his head, clenching his hand into a fist as he held onto the scrap of clothing. “So, talk.”

To be continued….

Part Nine

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