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goeymoey · 3 years

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What if you fixed me?

just a simple what if this time :) Tyler being a nurse for the guys and this and that

Yeah

———-

“ What’s the best course of action?”

Tyler looks up from his papers with a tired expression. “ To cut it off. There’s no use trying to save a bunch of fried nerves and dead meat.” He stands up with a sigh, hands shaking by his sides.

“ I know that’s not the news you wanted to hear, but-“

Evan cuts him off. “ No…no, you gave me something…that’s all I wanted.” His good hand clasps Tyler in a soft grip. “ Thank you.”

Their skin tones conflict each other greatly beneath the bright hospital lights, but the cause of Tyler’s tears are not just from the fluorescent shines sting.

His watery blue eyes bravely examine the blackened appendage hanging off Evan’s shoulder. Once an arm, useful, now nothing but an annoyance for his friend.

Dead weight.

Tyler let’s a cold tear roll down his flush cheeks, savoring the moment of silence, before readying himself to wield his bone cutting saw.

“ Okay…let’s get this over with.”

Evan weakly squeezes his friends hand. “ Let’s do it.”

—————

It was horrific. The smell of burning flesh still encases the inside of his nose and he can’t stop scrubbing the non existent blood from his hands.

He’s failed. He failed. The arms gone.

Human hands, one robotic, all dark…ripping at his shirt. Poking his sides. Their heads are screaming, screaming, voices hoarse.

There are tears. Streaming down their faces- oh the horror of it all.

It hurt. It hurts. He can’t tell wants real and wants not. It’s all coming at once.

Faces, hands, tears and voices. Holding onto him with their smudged finger tips and vice grip.

He can’t sleep anymore. He can’t-

“ Breathe.”

—————

Evan’s arm is replaced with one kick ass robotic one, courtesy of Brian, and he couldn’t be happier.

Of course, Evan misses his original arm. He still has nightmares of the day it was flayed like a fish…and sometimes the pain comes back on not so sunny days but, he’s good, he’s good…

The metal is tough, injury proof, and even matches the color of his suit. Black and gold.

So, it’s good. It’s all good.

No problems here…

—————

Tyler can’t bring himself to enter the hospital room. He’s still wearing his blue scrubs, stained with blood and…other fluids and just smelling like death on legs.

His hands are sweaty and shake underneath his gloves. He can’t open the door with them on so, why not come back tomorrow?

A soft hand claps his shoulder.

“ Let me help you.” Evan. His eyes are a mess of irritated veins and teary pupils.

Tyler bites his lip. “ I can’t…I couldn’t help him…he’s…” the more he talks, the harder it is for him to think, so he just shuts up.

Evan gives him a look, and it is just…so so sad, then uses his robotic arm to slip Tyler’s gloves off. He doesn’t dispose of them instantly. Rather, Evan stares at the gloves, stained with his friends blood, before tossing them into the waste bucket beside the door.

It will be burned later.

“ Tell him the truth.”

Tyler forces himself to meet Evan’s hard gaze. It’s tough for Tyler when he towers over Evan a foot, but he manages to hold himself still and digs his finger nails into his palms.

“ But what if-“

“ There’s no if.” Evan states plainly. “ You gave me the truth…do the same for him…He’s my friend as much as he is yours and-“ A sob chokes Evan mid speech and the shorter man is the first one to break their eye contact. He hides his trembling lips behind a black and gold arm as tears streak down his soft cheeks.

Tyler stays still, not fully comfortable with trusting himself to comfort his friend at the moment, and just watches as the other man collects himself slowly.

Evan sniffs and then regains eye contact. “ He was my friend first…don’t break him more than he already is…keep it straightforward, like you did me…”

The taller man looks down, avoiding the stained scrubs. “ He’s not like you Evan…Brock’s more-“

“ Fucking stop it with that shit. He’s not a god damn doll, Tyler…you’ve seen him…you’ve fought with him…He’s not some fucking flower.” Evan points at the closed, ominous, hospital door. “ He’s a god damn bad ass…just like me, just like you!” Tyler receives a harsh poke to the chest. “ And just like everyone else!”

Evan takes a step back, holding his head still, and crosses his arms.

“ Just give him the truth…that’s all I want.”

Tyler opens his mouth, but nothing comes to mind, so he closes it.

Evan nods sternly and then turns his back to the taller man. “ Just do it…I’ll be back soon.”

He waits for Evan’s form to disappear around the corner, holds his hand on the doorknob as the footsteps fade and then enters the room as the elevator doors close.

Tyler closes his eyes. “ Just Tell the truth…”

Brock, from his place on the bed, looks up at the sound of Tyler entering the room and smiles…well, partly.

The left side of his face is a puckered and leathery mess…and no matter how hard he frowns, the left corner of his lip will never fall…In fact, it barley moves at all now.

Tyler holds back the sting in his eyes and swallows harshly.

Brock seems to sense his depressed atmosphere and let’s his smile fall. “ Give it to me straight…is it worth the trouble?”

‘It’ being Brock’s left eye. The honey brown color is gone, drained and dead, with a haunting grey fog covering the scarred pupil. The eye was not injured at the same time Brock’s skin was, but since the traumas happened within minutes of each other, Tyler considers is a “two birds with one stone” injury.

No one laughed in the debriefing room when he was describing Brock’s damage, but Evan still put the world play in their file.

Hopefully someone higher up would find it funny and give him a good star.

Brock coughs harshly, Tyler blinks out of his day dreaming, and points to his heavily bandaged eye with a lightly bandaged hand.

“ Can we save it?”

Tyler instantly thinks about convincing Brock to under go another surgery, but all he sees is a tired man- his friend- with one less eye to see with, and his aspirations fall flat.

A sigh escapes him. He pulls up a chair to Brock’s good side and clasps their hands together.

He squeezes for comfort, and Brock squeezes back.

A deep breath. “ We can’t save your eye…”

Brock doesn’t react the way Tyler thought he would. His shoulders deflate, and heads sinks closer to his chest with the one good eye closed shut.

“ That’s what I thought…bummer.” Brock sighs sadly.

Tyler stares at him silently, hand still tightly gripping Brock’s. “ I’m sorry…I know it’s-“

Brock gives him the same look Evan did just months ago. “ No…Thanks for giving it to me straight…I don’t think I would be able to handle another…”miracle surgery” that doesn’t work.”

Tyler flinched at that, but tightened his lips.

“…I’m just glad it’s not anything worse…Yeah, losing an eye sucks ass but…at least I still have one.” The same soft smile creeps it’s way on Brock’s lips, and Tyler thinks his heart might stop.

The taller man has to lick his lips before speaking. “ Yeah…Yeah…at least it’s not two…” He smiles back, softly.

Brock hums. “ Definitely.”

—————

He can’t see. His eyes are gone, the hands tear at his face.

It’s disappointing. The fog disorients him and sinks into his skin. Bubbling beneath it like hot lava. Stretching and pulling like a current.

The smell of flesh is faint, but very present. Hands clean but tainted with the feel of spider webs that never seem to come off.

He’s failed. He failed, again. But it’s only one eye.

Something scratches at his ankles, nail bitten fingers, threatening to pull him more into the fog.

It hurts. It hurt.

He can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t-

“ Wake up.”

—————

Brian, like he had done with Evan, manages to fit Brock with a prosthetic eye. It’s similar to the man’s own eye, but more slender and it glows yellow instead of red.

It’s perfect.

But, sometimes, Tyler finds Brock looking at himself in reflective surfaces. His scarred hand skimming over the damaged part of his face. Fingers lingering a little too long on the part where skin becomes metal.

Its…sad.

Brock never brings it up, and Tyler never asks…because, as far as anyone else knows, Brock loves his robot eye! He can see farther, scan stuff, tell time without looking at a clock and know when or if it’s gonna rain that day.

He loves it!

Well, it itches every now and then, but no more problems here!

…not yet, anyway.

—————

In the following months, Tyler gives Marcel a new hand, preforms life saving surgery on Anthony, reattaches Scotty’s left foot, diagnosis’s Nogla with severe hearing loss, reconstructs Jonathan’s whole face, removes one of John’s fingers, puts Jaren in a full body cast and replaces Brian’s heart with a mechanical enhancement.

It’s…it’s not good. They’re not good. Everyone’s suffering and Tyler….Tyler doesn’t know what to do.

His hands haven’t stopped shaking since the day Nogla and Evan brought Jonathan to the emergency room, and he nearly collapsed from exhaustion trying to safely reattach Brian’s new heart.

It’s too much- it’s all too much…He can’t…He…

Tyler doesn’t know why “he can’t”…because, he has. He’s saved them all, his friends are alive, but he still says he can’t.

Maybe it’s because when he first dug his saw into Evan’s arm, he held his breath. Or maybe it’s because he slept for days after Scotty’s surgery and couldn’t wake up unless it was to the smell of blood from his night terrors…

He doesn’t know.

He probably doesn’t want to.

—————

They learn to talk about it.

Evan brought it up first. “ I still have…nightmares about the day I lost my arm…and I hate it.”

He’s told them all after dinner- while they were watching some rando movie Nogla had picked out.

And then, from there on, everyone opened up about their own insecurities.

“ I look so different from what I used to look like…It’s as if I’m wearing an itchy suit. Everything always feels tight and uncomfortable.” Brock.

“ Sometimes I feel like my hands still there. It’s a weird feeling, and sometimes it gets too much and I have to take off the prosthetic before I throw it in the trash.” Marcel.

“ I look at life so different than what I used too. Everything’s bright, but also not…It can be dizzy or stable and sometimes things aren’t there when you see them…” Anthony.

“ I haven’t walked the same since I’ve gotten it reattached. Every time I’m out of my wheel chair, I feel like my whole legs gonna fall off, and it scares the shit out of me.” Scotty.

“ I miss being aware. My hearing aids help, yeah, but they also…hurt? Not physically, but mentally…I don’t really know how to explain it.” Nogla.

“ Sometimes I look in the mirror and…I’m scared of myself…Because, I have no idea who I’m looking at. That persons a total stranger to me, even though I know I’m looking at myself.” Jonathan.

“ At first, it was just really weird…Like, a phantom finger on my hand. A few times I’ve had to catch myself from using my hand because I still thought my finger was there…it’s kinda…fucked, I guess.” John.

“ I don’t even know how I’m still alive. I don’t think I’ve moved more than a few feet since I got my torso and arm casts removed. I’m scared that if I do anything, even breath, that I’ll hurt myself again.” Jaren.

“ The heart is what makes someone human…and now, mines just not…I feel inhuman with it, but I don’t know what to do…it’s all confusing and it hurts…” Brian.

Tyler listens to them all open up, and it surprisingly makes him feel better. His shoulders relax as the same insecurities he’s shared about his work come from his own patients mouths.

They know the pain of living with it, but they also share a deeper meaning.

It’s…it’s nice to know.

Yeah.

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