#i can't say how long you're in a hospital when you have a brain injury | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misaverawrites · 2 years

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hi can you do addison montgomery x injured reader thanks!

The Harmony of Tragedy (Addison Montgomery x Injured!Reader)

tags: established relationship, Addison is worried about you, hurt/comfort, angst, private practice era, minor description of injuries and surgeries

summary: You get injured and Addison can’t do anything to help you.

It was an accident. That was all she heard before she excused herself from whatever she was doing, something she couldn’t even remember now. All she remembers was that she moved, quickly. She made it to Saint Ambrose Hospital, Naomi alongside her as support, “(Y/N) (L/N)’s room number please.” She tapped her fingers nervously against the desk, something she didn’t do often anymore. Naomi placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she knew how hard this was on Addison. How much she loved you, and right now she needed this receptionist to hurry up.

“She’s in Room 423.” With those words Addison took off without a word, Naomi smiled and gave a small thank you to the receptionist before racing off after Addison, who was stopped in front of the hospital window of room 423, staring at you. Your injuries are mild at best, your leg is in a cast and you have a neck brace on, Addison moves slowly towards the doorway, it’s as if time moves in slow motion and when she meets your gaze, you give her a smile. “They got a C.T. I know you’d ask for one if I didn’t tell you that, no brain bleed, not even a bit of trauma if you couldn’t tell. Femur fracture and they’re keeping me in this brace, for now, to make sure my spine is alright.” You see her exhale a sigh of relief at your own rundown of your injuries, as she sits on the chair near the bed, beginning to sob. It was never her, she had seen it happen a million times, wives mourning wives, husbands dropping to their knees at the news of having lost their wife but not their baby, or vice versa. Now, she felt like that situation was here in her lap, she had almost lost you like she had lost friends and family before. "Addie, hey... It's just a little graze from a car crash. I'm okay." Addison, in her terror and overwhelming rush of emotions, grasps your hand tightly as she kisses your forehead, careful not to jostle you from your position too much. "Do you need anything? Food? Drink?" She asks as you sigh and decline, "I can't, they've got me in surgery soon. You know how it goes." She nods and grips your hand a bit, "Then I'll just stay here with you for as long as they'll let me stay." She says simply, like many of her patients had before. Before the baby came and their lives changed forever, or before she had found the worst during a routine appointment and watched her patients deal with the fallout. Right now, she was feeling all of those emotions with you and all she could think was how thankful she was that you were alive and well. Even as the surgeons come in, greeting her kindly from prior surgeries together and wheel you away from her. Leaving her, alone and afraid. She fought against those emotions right now and she could only feel thankful that you were strong and so was she, strong enough for you.

You hold her hand, tightly. Her hand is warmer than yours and it's all you crave, she radiates all the warmth you crave in this cold, clinical hospital room that you're basically tied to right now, so you decide now is the moment to a pop a question you've been wanting to ask for a while. "Addie, I think we should live together... When this is all over. I just hate leaving you in the morning and I just think... No, I know that us living together is better for both of us." She just smiles at you and nods slightly, "I'm not saying no, at all, but we'll come back to this in a few weeks, when you start recovering a little more. Don't make rash decisions because you're going into surgery. Please." You give a small sigh but decide to listen, she's seen this more than you and you know that. You also know that you want to move in with her, this isn't the time to start an argument, sure but when is? "Maybe just bit by bit? Let me move some stuff in every week?" She takes a moment to consider the compromise from you and nods, "Okay, i'll move some stuff while you're in surgery and then you'll stay with me after. I know you wouldn't follow the post-surgery care unless I'm there." She jokes as you roll your eyes, "Whatever you say, Addie." You feign annoyance with her jab but she kisses your forehead softly, noting the doctors coming into the room to take you to surgery. "I'll see you later," You smile at her as the doctors begin to wheel you out, "You better." She says back, brushing her hair behind her ears as you leave her, alone in the hospital room.

#addison montgomery x reader #addison shepherd #addison shepherd x reader #addison forbes montgomery #addison montgomery #greys abc #addison greys anatomy #greys anatomy #grey's abc #grey's fanfic #grey's anatomy #grey's #private practice #grey's anatomy fanfiction

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jackmercerenthuiast · 1 year

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Caretaker - Jack Mercer x Reader ✧

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it's been a hot minute since I posted, but the premise of this story is basically Jack survived the shot and you, being the sweet loving girlfriend you are, agree to look after him!

Pre-established relationship ꨄ

✰ content warning! ✩Swearing ✩mentions of alcohol, injuries and brief mental illness

(If any of these topics make you feel uncomfortable as you read, feel free to scroll on, I will try to mark places that involve these things with a purple '*')

➱ my masterlist

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✩ 2006

It's been a couple of months since every thing went down with the Mercers and Victor Sweet, and luckily Jackie survived being shot, but only by a hair. So with my short lived years at nursing school, and a lot of love for and idiot, I took it upon myself to look after him.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

"Hey Mercer it's me! Could you let me in?! " I yelled as I banged on the Mercer's door in the cold January weather. Just waiting for someone to open the fucking door. "Woah babe do you mind keeping the fucking noise down? " A tall, blondish-brunette said as he opened the door, rubbing his eyes with a look on his face that said "I don't mean to be rude I just have a killer hangover". A look that undeniably belonged to my boyfriend Jack, me and Jack had been together long-distance ever since he moved from Detroit, and now that he was back here for good I was so excited to spend as much time with him as a girl could, but that got put on hold for his brothers' revenge plan, which ultimately led to him being shot. Now I've bestowed the amazing job of taking care of him upon myself.

'Lovely to see you too Jackie, now let me in before my tits get icicles. '

He nodded and moved aside so I could come in, we walked into the living room and we sat down on the sofa with him lying between my legs as we watched TV,

'So why are you over here at this time in the morning? '

'Jack sweetheart I need to look after you, you've just gotten out of the hospital and I can already tell you've been drinking. ' I laughed as I messed with his already messy bed hair.

'It's not like that babe, I'm fine, me and my brothers were just having like a celebratory drink or whatever the fuck Bobby called it. '

'Oh that's cute, speaking of your brothers, where are they? '

'At Jerry's I think, they all stayed there but Jerry's wife drove me back here because in her words, I needed to be closer to you because you're the only one who can deal with me when I'm fucked. ' he laughed and fiddled with his hands as he said it, he seemed a bit embarrassed so i lightly kissed him on the head.

'That was sweet of her, and she's right, but anyways did you have a good time with your brothers? '

'Yeah until I could feel my brain practically throbbing this morning when I woke up. '

'Dearie me Jackie, what do I do with you? ' I laughed as I moved his head off of my lap and onto the nearest pillow as I got up and went to the kitchen.

'Babyyy come back please it's cold. '

'Jackie stop being a baby, I'm only making a cup of tea and I'll be right there! '

'Please be quick, you're the only thing helping these fucking gun wounds. '

'You can't rush a good tea baby, and how are your injuries? '

'About as good as you expect them to be, hurt like a fucking bitch, *not only that but ever since it happened I've been waking up in the middle of the night, breathing heavy and tears down my face.' As soon as I heard him say that I immediately stepped away from the kitchen and sat with him again, this time letting him lie on my chest with his arms wrapped around my stomach. I let him talk to me about his night terrors, he laughed to himself as he found it all a bit embarrassing.

'Jackie, in all seriousness that sounds like a symptom of PTSD don't you think?'

'Could be, I keep shakin' too, like it's really fucking weird and I can't even stop it, it only calms down when I'm with you. '

'Awh Jack, you truly are adorable, but I really think you should consider being checked out because it can get super dangerous if you don't talk to someone.'

'Then I'll be fine because I have you to talk to, don't I? ' I could feel him start to shake a little bit, probably thinking that he might not be able to have me as a safety net anymore now that he's "even more fucked up than before" . I shushed him comfortingly and started rubbing his back with my hands under his shirt, and when I felt him calm down I said to him,

'Of course you have me Jackie, and you always will no matter what happens, you can speak to me about anything, but I think at, some point when you're comfortable with the idea, speaking to a specialist would help.'

'Yeah, at some point, but I feel safe here. With you I mean. Ever since I got shot I've been more on edge than ever and I'm always getting myself worked up about everything. Hell sometimes Bobby can't even ask me if I'm doing okay without me yelling at him. I don't want to but I feel so out of control in my own body. But when I'm with you I feel like all of that goes away and that I could just stay here with you forever. I mean it's fucking stupid but you get the idea. ' I could feel a tear fall onto my stomach, so I motioned for him to sit up. I sat in front of him face to face and opened my arms so he could hug me, and he fully embraced me and buried his head deep into my neck.

'I know it's tiring Jackie, and I understand that you feel like you're out of control, and that's why I'm here to look after you, and I always will look after you as long as you need me to, and it's not stupid and it never will be because I love you so much Jackie it's unbelievable. '

'I love you too baby, I love my little caretaker. ' he said as I wiped his tears with my thumbs, and he leaned in and kissed me as gently as he could. I always cherished the moments where Jack could feel vulnerable with me, because I feel as if the environment he grew up in, didn't give him that luxury, as his older brothers always felt as if vulnerability was a weakness, but it was because they had also been influenced by their environment, even with Evelyn that mindset had always stuck with them.

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After a while, me and Jack had went to his room and fallen asleep in his bed after having something to eat, then we had woken up a couple hours later.

'Now what do you want to do Jackie?'

'Whatever you want baby. '

'Wanna watch Grease? '

'Please baby pleasee you know you love 'em! '

'Okay fine, just for my sweet caretaker though. '

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The end! I hope you enjoyed what felt like forever, please consider leaving a comment as they rlly make my day x

Love you loads 💗💗

#jack mercer #jack mercer x reader #four brothers

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nientedal · 8 months

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my phone is being annoying but BOOK EMOJI

ahahaha omg 😂 ok so book emoji, talking about a fic i have in my head but have never written down!

stereotypical amnesia fic beneath the cut, lol

Roxanne gets into some kind of accident and hits her head. Wakes up in the hospital with her mother dozing in a chair. Mom is OVERJOYED Roxanne is awake; it's been sort of touch and go for a while as to whether she would wake up at all. She's had people working on a solution but this will be such good news, hooray, she's lucid, she's feeling mostly fine--

And then Roxanne sees the ring on her finger, and oh. Okay. She is not fine, actually. She's lost nearly all of the last three years, and several prior to that are exceptionally spotty.

Her mom is left with the unenviable position of navigating some...ah...fairly major news. Yes, you're very happy together. Three rings, right, wedding band and two engagement; you're sort of...well, also married to his best friend? What's that word your brother is...? Aromantic, queerplatonic, yes. Neither of them is anyone I would have ever picked for you, but you're happy and I do know when I'm beaten, so... well, anyway, the only reason your man isn't here is I made him go home to take a shower and a nap. And to start putting together a better MRI scanner so he would stop fretting over your charts. Yes, he's building it himself. And no I haven't said his name yet, and... yes you do probably already know him, it's just-- well, you see-- um-- tell, tell you what, let's call Wayne, shall we? I think this will probably sound a little better coming from Wayne--

So that's a thing.

Roxanne takes the news...not well, but not totally poorly either. Mostly she's just stunned. But if her mother can admit she's happy with Megamind, that says a lot. That's...promising. Reassuring. And Wayne confirms everything her mother has said, which is similarly reassuring.

Megamind, on the other hand, takes it VERY poorly. Wayne says she's awake and his heart leaps, and then Wayne says there's a slight problem, her last clear memory of you is from early 2009, and his heart sort of collapses in his chest. He's been working on his self-worth and has come a long way but he's had a long two weeks and right now, from where he's sitting, all he can think is that Roxanne was a miracle that is not going to happen twice. This is absolutely the end for them. He'll start researching divorce lawyers immediately.

(Roxanne is initially of the opinion that yes, that is probably for the best, but Wayne convinces her to at least give the little guy a chance. Come on, Roxie, for Minion’s sake. Please?)

From here it's sort of...Roxanne slowly regaining her footing. Traumatic brain injuries are a helluva drug; her mind works differently from how it used to and it's a struggle sometimes in ways she doesn't expect. And she can't remember things she wants to and it's SO disorienting, and Megamind and Minion are obviously both struggling as well for other reasons but they are being so lovely with her, and she keeps shying away and it's awful, she hates it. Megamind gave her a photo album to maybe help her put some things together, and it isn't really working yet but maybe if she just keeps at it she'll be able to remember just a little more-- okay, Wayne was right, he is worth trying, but come ON, brain, fucking WORK--

Megamind wanders down to the kitchen in the wee hours one morning a few weeks later for a snack or something and Roxanne is there with the album. She's...having a little bit of a moment. Little bit of a cry. She's sitting at the kitchen table looking at this one picture that someone took of all three of them-- Megamind and Roxanne and Minion when they were on some vacation somewhere together and Roxanne snuck up behind the other two to pounce on them and hug both of them at once. So she's in the middle with her arms around their shoulders and all three of them are laughing. And she's like, "I can't remember this and I WANT TO, we look so HAPPY and I don't know if I'll ever get any of this back-- you're so sweet to me now and your bed smells like home and I don't know why and I want to, I want to--"

He's been keeping his distance since she came home. Has been waiting and letting her initiate whatever contact between them. But he goes to her now and pulls her into a hug without thinking because he cannot fucking stand it, and she just wraps her arms around him as hard as she can.

"Okay," he says, patting her hair and trying to think of what to do and mostly just wanting to burst into tears right along with her. "Okay. It's okay."

It's not okay. It's not okay and she doesn't know how to make it be okay, but it's been a few weeks and Roxanne is tired of waiting to maybe remember and tired of hoping for something that isn't coming and tired in general, and so she asks him to come to bed with her. Just stay with her, please; she's freaking out and she wants to be held, and fuck it. Fuck it. Come to bed.

In the morning at breakfast, hearing all this, Minion says, okay. So, photo album isn't working, or if it is it's not working the way we were hoping for. New plan: let's go on another trip? Let's all go somewhere together. Traveling. Maybe go see some places we've seen already, definitely go see some places we've never seen. Maybe your old memories will come back and maybe they won't, but either way we'll make new memories and have a good time making them. Let's go.

.............And idk if that's the end of the story or if there's more story that's just them going around places. I haven't played much with the traveling itself

#askbasket #dal is a fanfic #megamind #yamitamiko

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jadedrrose · 11 months

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Not really an ask but I can't contain all of my thoughts about Law to myself and seeing how you're a fellow obsessor I thought I'd indulge you because this- - this is rotting my brain.

So like, we all know Law loves (y/n). It's painfully obvious, and if he could he'd mow down any person or thing that brought danger to not only himself, his crew, but to you as well. (Slight tw blood/injury reference)

But I can't help but to think, how maybe on one horrid, unexpected occasion, (y/n) gets injured. Bad. I'm like, talking about coughing up blood bad. On the possible brink of death injured bad.

I can see Law absolutely snapping at whatever caused it, losing his self control like blood in the water to a hungry shark, and using the last of his remaining stamina to call a huge ROOM to not only kill the enemy that did this, but his adrenaline would be pumping so hard that in the same space of time he'd Shamble himself and (y/n) back to the Polar Tang (despite his own injuries and remaining strength) and immediately operating on her. Just the mere thought of losing her would devastate him just as much when Cora died.

So he'd push himself to fix whatever was broken, cut, torn, fractured, anything, and even after everything is sewn and patched up he'd be practically glued to your side.

His excuse is to be right there if anything happens. Unforseen internal bleeding, sudden heart rate crash, blood pressure collapses, he'd pull any excuse out of his ass just to stay by your side. Even if it's something that has been proven to be impossible to ever actually happen, he'd still use it as an excuse.

His obsession with your recovery would get bad enough he'd personally move your hospital bed into his room just so he can keep a better eye on you while also doing his paperwork/command as the captain of his crew. Eventually (y/n) is so fed up with him being so overprotective she coerses Law to relax.

Of course he'd deny it at first, but after sweet words that comes out of your mouth stating how she wasn't in any danger with him being there, how she was pretty much in the best hands a doctor could ever be in their line of work, that she'll be fine. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

But he's still pent up, still punishing himself for allowing something like this to happen in the first place. Only after days of constant care do you prove it to him by lullabying him to sit down, undo his jeans, pull down his boxers and her sucking him off like a lollipop does he finally let all the tight muscles in him unravel. All of his hard work is paying off and he doesn't need to watch her like a hawk anymore if she's able to do that without being in some sort of pain or discomfort.

I find it as an, "You don't believe me? Alright. I'll just have to prove it to you just what good care I'm in. " Or something along the lines of that.

Sorry for the long message, as I said I'm kinda an obsessive fan of Law,, an seeing a fellow Law lover I just thought I'd bring some sort of fluffiness your way the best way I can,, (I have autism so I'm sorry if this is,,,direct?? Straight forward?? Not necessarily part of your hc's?? I gotta spread the love somehow 😣)

I literally constantly day dream abt Law just looking after me….. esp as someone who gets sick a lot 😭 and also protective Law??? One of my favorite things to think abt.

And also the “proving” she’s better part 🫣 omfg….. 👀👀👀😵‍💫 I- idk what to say other than 😩 (lol)

(Also as someone that has the ‘tism too…. Do not be afraid to dump these thoughts in my asks. It’s literally exactly how my brain works with my friends except I have to remember they either don’t watch one piece or don’t love Law like I do…. So if there’s anyone who wants to hear abt it ITS DEFINITELY ME LMAO)

#law #ask things lol #law thoughts #law thoughts nsft

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tomwambsmilk · 2 years

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Your tags! I need a Tom amnesia storyline more than anything now

PLEASE I already have 5 WIPs going, I can't start a sixth 😭😭❤️

That being said this concept also has not left me alone. So I have in fact added it to the list of fics I'd like to eventually write, but since who knows whether or not I'll ever get to it...

So the thing is I actually had a friend in high school whose parents owned horses, and she had a horrible accident where she was trying to help break in an unruly young horse, and it threw her off and kicked her in the head. She suffered about 6 months of amnesia, which meant she woke up in the hospital and did not remember, among other things, that her boyfriend had broken up with her, so she started asking after him. Unfortunately the brain trauma meant her short-term memories weren't encoding properly, so someone would have to explain to her every day that she and her boyfriend had broken up, at which point she would be devastated and cry.... And then forget by the next day and ask for him and have to go through the whole process again. Eventually her short-term memories did start encoding again, but she never got back those 6 months.

I like the idea of Tom getting a head injury (car accident, maybe?) after Lion in the Meadow, and then forgetting everything going back to a couple days before Logan's birthday, so here you go:

He comes to slowly. He can hear the beeping of what sounds like a heart monitor. His head feels fuzzy and... heavy? He feels like he may be on drugs.

"Tom? Tom?" He doesn't recognize the voice coming from his left. He forces his eyes open and blinks twice. Squints. He doesn't recognize the face either.

The face clearly recognizes him, though, and grins stupidly at him. "You're awake! God, Tom, I- I was worried about you, man. When Shiv called me she made it sound like it was, uh. Pretty bad." He's leaning over Tom, with an overly earnest look on his face. He's got big round eyes like a baby deer. He seems to be telling the truth, although Tom for the life of him can't figure out who he is and why he'd be so concerned. However, the face apparently knows Shiv, so that's a place to start, maybe.

"Where is Shiv?"

The face blinks at him. "Oh. Uh. She was here, for a while, but she had to go. A work thing."

"Oh." That makes sense. There's only a couple weeks left until midterms, so something must've happened with Joyce's campaign. Tom tries not to feel disappointed.

"How do you know Shiv?"

The face blinks at him again. "What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? It's a pretty straightforward question, isn't it?"

There's a long pause. "Dude, are you seriously razzing me right now? Because that isn't funny."

"What? No. I'm not 'razzing' you. I feel like 'how do you know my girlfriend' is a perfectly valid question."

When Tom says 'girlfriend', a look of concern washes over the face.

"Your what?"

"My girlfriend," Tom says slowly, over-enunciating the word like he's speaking to a toddler. "Are you stupid? Maybe you should be the one hooked up to a monitor."

The face gets more concerned, and then the guy stands up - he's absurdly tall, Tom realizes - and says, with just an edge of panic to his voice: "Hey, I'm gonna be right back, okay, Tom? I'm just gonna- I'm just gonna go get somebody."

Tom watches him go bemusedly, smoothing down his covers absentmindedly. He wonders what they're made out of - they're coarser than he's used to - and glances down.

There's a wedding ring on his left hand.

His chest tightens. He screws his eyes shut and then opens them. It's still there. He takes his right hand and slides it off his finger to check if it's real. It sure as hell feels real.

He puts it back on his finger and quietly starts to panic.

It's only a couple more minutes until a woman in a white coat - a doctor presumably - comes into the room, followed by the guy from before. He doesn't sit back down by the bed; instead, he hovers awkwardly by the door to the room. The doctor crosses to the foot of the bed and picks up the chart.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Wambsgans?"

"Uh, fine. A little fuzzy. What happened?"

"You were in a car wreck. You're actually quite lucky you weren't more seriously injured, but you did take quite a blow to the head."

"Huh. Okay. How long have I been out for."

The doctor hums quietly. "Only a couple of days."

"Oh."

"I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, just to see where your head's at." She flashes a smile at him that doesn't make Tom feel any better. "What's today's date?"

Tom's mouth is dry. "Uh, well if I was out for a couple of days, it's- It's probably, what, November 4 or 5?" He glances at the guy by the door as he says it, and watches his eyes go wide as saucers. That's not good.

The doctor hums again and taps her pen on the chart. "What year?"

"2017. It's 2017, right?"

The guy by the door sucks in a breath, which makes the doctor turn and look at him. "Mr. Hirsch, would you mind giving us a few moments?"

"Right. Of course. Sorry." He slips out of the room and shuts the door, but Tom can see him hovering in the hallway through the glass window.

The doctor comes and sits down by the bed. "Okay, Mr. Wambsgans. You do appear to be experiencing some memory loss. That's not altogether uncommon for injuries of this nature, so I wouldn't get too worried yet."

"Okay. How much time have I lost?"

"Well, today's date is June 8, 2018."

Tom feels like he's going to throw up. "Eight months? I've lost eight fucking months?"

"Like I said, I wouldn't worry about it too much yet. It's very possible that it'll come back once your brain has some time to heal."

She continues talking, asking other questions about specific symptoms, talking about recovery timelines, but Tom's only half-listening. His mind is racing - apparently, he got married in the last eight months. To Shiv, presumably. That makes sense - it's somewhat of a relief, actually, because the last thing he remembers is carrying around the ring for weeks, waiting for the right moment to ask for Logan's blessing, and quietly panicking and backing out of every opportunity. Presumably he'd eventually found the guts to do it, and it'd gone well.

He realizes the doctor is getting up to leave. "Hey, can you send that guy back in here?"

"Of course," she says, and he watches her step out and say something to the guy, who nods and comes back in. He stays hovering by the door, though, which Tom finds supremely irritating for reasons he doesn't fully understand.

"Come over here and sit down," he snaps, a little harsher than he intended, and the guy does. Tom takes a second to collect his thoughts.

"Okay. First things first. How do you know Shiv?"

"She's my cousin."

"Huh." Shiv had mentioned her Canadian cousin offhand to him, once or twice. He tries to search his memory for a name. "... Craig?"

"It's, uh. It's Greg, actually,"

"Right. Greg." Tom holds his hand out for Greg to shake. "Tom Wambsgans."

"Yeah, dude, I know," Greg says, but he shakes Tom's hand anyways.

"Huh. Okay. So why are you here right now?" It's understandable that Shiv might've sent an emissary, of sorts, if she couldn't be here, but picking her cousin rather than any one of her brothers seems... odd. He notices that Greg hesitates for a second before answering.

"We're, uh... We're close."

"Really?" Tom is skeptical.

"Yeah. We're like... We're friends. You're kind of my best friend, actually." He looks nervous as he says it, and Tom is a little suspicious that this guy might be trying to grift him somehow, although he can't figure out how or why.

"We're best friends?"

Greg shrugs. "Yeah. We met at Logan's birthday party."

"Oh." That's... plausible. "And we became best friends?"

"Well, you're also my boss. I'm your executive assistant."

"I have an executive assistant?" That's new. That's also encouraging. That means, almost definitely, that he got a sizeable promotion.

"Yeah. You're the chairman of ATN."

"What?" That bowls him over. "You're fucking with me."

"Nope." Greg looks a little chagrined. "Wish I was."

Tom processes this for a second. Then, he holds up his left hand. "And I'm married? To Shiv?"

"Yeah. You guys got married a few months ago. March 10."

"Oh." He hums softly to himself and looks down at the ring. Now that he's had a bit more time to process it, it makes him feel warm and happy. Secure. "Was it a nice wedding?"

"Oh, yeah, it was like. At a castle in England. Shiv's mom's castle I think? Or, not her mom's castle but- in her mom's family. I forget exactly how." He pauses for a second. "Kendall did start a takeover bid, but other than that it was nice."

"He started a what?"

"Yeah, it was like... a whole thing. Still is, kind of. But- I mean that's a lot, and we can talk about it when you're feeling better."

"Sure."

They fall into silence. Greg's face looks pinched, and Tom feels kind of bad for him. He still suspicious of all this 'friend' stuff - this is not a world in which a person really has 'friends' - but he's becoming less convinced that this guy is trying to grift him.

"I mean, with any luck my memory will came back soon, and you won't have to tell me."

"Right. Of course."

**********

His memory never does come back.

It's inordinately frustrating, sitting through therapy session after therapy session, trying and failing to summon any memories at all. After the umpteenth MRI scan, when the doctors tell him that it's unlikely they'll ever come back, he's almost relieved because it means he can stop trying.

It also means they let him go home - which is apparently an entirely different home than the one he remembers. It's a gorgeous apartment, incredibly spacious, so he feels guilty for his disappointment. It's just unsettling, stepping back into a life he doesn't remember, that doesn't quite feel like his own, like he's stepping into the skin of someone who's a lot like him but isn't actually him.

Once he gets home, he doesn't want to wait too long to get back into the office, but he does take a couple of days to get settled. On the second day, while Shiv is at work (which is now apparently Waystar, and his boss - when he'd asked about the plan, she'd hesitated, and then said that they'd made some modifications to the plan, and he'd just nodded and tried to take it in stride) he opens his phone and reads back through the last eight months of text messages, trying to piece together what he can't remember.

He starts with Greg, if only because the guy seems to be pretty attached to him, and he really needs to know if they're actually friends or if there's something else going on. He scrolls back through months of texts - quite a lot of texts, actually. Near-constant texts. They text almost every day, sometimes about work, sometimes about nothing at all. Apparently, they've been going out in the evenings fairly frequently too. It really gives merit to that friend theory, and Tom has to pause to process that. He hasn't actually had a friend in... a long time. It makes him feel a little bit choked up. It's a nice feeling, to know that he has a friend, even if the guy vaguely reminds him of an inflatable tube man.

He is also, apparently, kind of an asshole to Greg. That part doesn't really surprise him, beyond a faint sort of surprise that Greg's been agreeing to hang out with him anyways. Maybe Greg is just a masochist.

There are so many texts that he doesn't bother scrolling more than a couple of months back before he switches over to Shiv. His texts with Shiv are less frequent, and the recent ones are... stilted, although he can't quite put a finger on what's wrong with them. A couple of months back, he comes to one that makes him pause.

Hey, I'm going to be staying out tonight.

Okay

The arrangement?

Yeah. That okay?

Yeah, of course.

Be safe.

Of course.

I love you.

I love you too.

He frowns at it. There's a vague sense of foreboding that he can't quite place. He scrolls back further, finding a few more references to "the arrangement", never with any additional context.

He asks about it when they're sitting on the couch together later that evening, and Shiv's entire body stiffens immediately. She puts her drink down on the coffee table in front of them, and turns to him, ever so slowly. She hesitates for a moment that seems to stretch on forever, and Tom's anxiety starts to build. Finally, she says, without quite looking him in the eye, "We... have an open marriage."

Tom feels like someone has punched him in the solar plexus. "We... have an open marriage?" He knows he didn't hear it wrong, but he's hoping that she'll say he did. Instead, she just nods.

"Oh." He looks down at the drink in his own hands. He has questions - a million of them - but he can't figure out what to ask first, and he's also afraid of what the answers will be.

"I mean, it's really- It's not, like, a thing." Shiv says quickly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's like - you're the king and I'm the queen, so what does it matter if we fuck the odd peasant? That's what you said." She laughs a bit.

"Oh, so this- this was my idea?" He can't imagine a world in which he ever would have wanted this.

Shiv bites her lip. "Well- no. It was mine. But we- we agreed about it."

"Uh-huh." There's something else here that he can't quite place. He doesn't think Shiv is lying to him, but there's a missing puzzle piece he can't figure out. Before he can figure out what to ask, though, she leans over and kisses him, deeply, and then starts unbuttoning his shirt - and it's been so long (at least since the last time he can remember) that he doesn't have it in him to stop her.

*********************

It's 9:30 in the morning, on his first day back in the office, and Tom is lying on his office floor behind his desk in a state of utter despair.

He'd blocked off the whole first day back, with the expectation that Greg - who should be here any minute - would help him get up to speed, so he'd been genuinely unprepared to find Gerri Kellman already in his office when he'd arrived at 8:30am.

It had only gotten worse from there.

He hears a knock at his office door, and (praying that it's Greg and not somebody else) he calls out "Come in!"

"Tom?" It is Greg.

"I'm over here. Behind the desk." He doesn't bother getting up, just listens to Greg's footsteps come around until Greg is standing over him, looking concerned.

"Tom? Are you okay? Should I- do you want me to call someone?"

"No, Greg, I'm not okay. No, you should absolutely not call anyone."

"Okay." Greg looks at him wide-eyed with those stupid fucking doe eyes.

"Did you know that I'm going to prison, Greg?"

Greg's face changes. He looks... guilty, maybe? "They told you about that already?"

"So you did know."

"...Yeah. I mean, I... I wasn't sure what the plan was, anymore, what with you and your... head."

Tom sighs. He wants to be mad at Greg for not giving him a fucking heads up, especially if they're supposed to be friends - but then again Shiv didn't either, and he's not sure how she would react if he confronts her now; plus, he's still feeling raw from the discovery that apparently she's been fucking other people with his blessing, and he doesn't want to poke at that wound. Greg, on the other hand, at least has the decency to pretend to be concerned, and they're supposed to be friends. And fuck does he need a friend right now.

Tom heaves himself upright, sitting under his desk. He points to the bar cart. "Grab that whiskey and two glasses, and then join me on the floor, Greg." He pats the space under the desk next to him.

Greg does as he's told, albeit a little bemusedly, squeezing in on Tom's right side under the desk. Since they're both over six feet tall, it's a tight fit; they're both kind of slouched, shoulders and legs pressed right up next to each other. Tom's not sure why he did this - literally hiding under his fucking desk - but it feels kind of safe and secluded. The blinds over the windows are pulled down, so it's not like anyone will see them under here. He pours a sizeable glass of whiskey for each of them.

"That's- it's, uh. It's 9:30 in the morning," Greg protests weakly, but Tom gives him a look and he takes a reluctant drink.

They sit like that in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Greg quietly says: "If it makes you feel any better. I'm probably going to prison too."

Tom arches an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"How much did they tell you?" Greg asks.

"Most of it, I think. They played the video of me in Congress." Truly a horrific experience to watch. Tom thought he'd known what the depths of self-loathing felt like, but he'd discovered brand new levels as he watched himself stumble over even the simplest questions.

"'You can't make a tomlette without breaking some greggs'," Greg quotes, almost to himself, and Tom laughs a bit.

"Yeah, I guess we really are friends. And apparently also partners in crime." He looks Greg up and down. "Really wouldn't have thought it of you, to be honest."

"Me either." Greg hesitates. "It, uh... It wasn't that fun actually. 0/10, don't recommend."

Tom snorts. "Where were you eight months ago."

"Sitting in your office while you threw me into the 'death pit', actually," Greg says, making air quotes around 'death pit'.

"Sorry." Tom does actually feel bad, even though he doesn't remember it. It feels kind of shitty, knowing that he pulled this kid into this and then fucked it up so royally.

It makes him wonder... what else he might've fucked up. He takes a long drink, and then asks, "Am I a good boss?"

Greg side-eyes him for a very long time, saying nothing.

"Well?"

Greg looks at his drink, and takes a deep breath. "Um. Well. You know."

"Yeah, that's not very promising."

"I mean. You got me mixed up in a criminal conspiracy. Also once I tried to transfer departments and you pelted me with water bottles."

"I what?" That seems beyond the pale.

"Yeah. There's a video, actually. Someone else took it."

Shit, so it was public. "Yeah, not sure I want to watch any more videos of myself right now."

"Sure.”

There’s another long silence, but it’s… companionable. He’s staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with this prison thing, but he trusts Greg, inexplicably, if only because he’s put the guy through the wringer and yet he still seems to genuinely care about Tom.

Another thought pops into his head - a possible missing puzzle piece in whatever is going on with Greg.

“Hey, did we ever… You know?”

“What?” Greg’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Like….” Tom really hopes he’s reading this right, because it has the possibility to go colossally sideways if he isn’t. Still. He trusts Greg, he thinks. “Like, do we ever… mess around?”

Greg’s entire body goes stiff. Shit. Fuck. “No- no we haven’t- like we’ve never- you’re married to my cousin.”

“Yeah, but it’s an open marriage so- you know- I just thought maybe- yeah, never mind.” There’s panic racing through Tom, and he tries to hide it as he gauges Greg’s reaction.

Greg looks a little surprised. “Oh. I, um- I didn’t know about the open marriage. It kind of explains a lot.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t make any move to get up or leave either, and slowly Tom’s heart rate comes down.

“I didn’t- I didn’t actually know you, um. That you were into guys,” Greg says softly.

“If you tell anyone-“ Tom’s starts threateningly. He’s not stupid, he knows the workplace culture here - but Greg is shaking his head.

“No, dude, of course not. I wouldn’t- I get it.” Greg hesitates, his fingers toying with the edge of his glass. “I, like- I’m into guys, too.” His cheeks are a bit red, and he doesn’t meet Tom’s gaze.

“Oh.” Tom processes this for a moment. “… Did I know that?”

“No. I don’t think so, anyways.” Greg pauses. “I mean, you did - a couple of weeks ago you did tell me that you’d castrate and marry me in a heartbeat. But I kind of figured that was a prison breakdown thing.”

“I said- for fuck’s sake. I really am an asshole, aren’t I.”

“I mean.. yeah, but I think that whole thing was part of a whole other thing about- Nero and Sporus? Do you…?” Greg trails off looking at Tom expectantly, but Tom shakes his head. Nero and Sporus. He’s going to have to google that later.

Tom takes a second to process. Suddenly, he becomes keenly aware of Greg pressed up against him. He hasn’t moved since they started this conversation.

He turns it over and over in his head. He’s got an open marriage that Shiv asked for. He’s got this friend - inexplicably - who he is apparently just friends with, despite the constant texts and the emails (which Tom started reading on his way in this morning), but who he would apparently castrate and marry in a heartbeat… platonically? Who is sitting here with him under his desk even though Tom has been an utter dickwad to him for about eight months.

And who he trusts. It’s not just the texts and the emails and the cruises debacle - there’s something deeper, like a sense memory, which tells him he can trust Greg. Trust is not something he feels easily. Maybe he’s just feeling overwhelmed, and Greg is an easy anchor - but he thinks that maybe. Maybe it’s more than that.

Slowly - infinitesimally slowly - and without looking at Greg, he reaches over and places his right hand on Greg’s left knee.

Greg doesn’t move for a long moment, and Tom is about to snatch his hand back and apologize when suddenly he feels a warm pressure on his hand. He flicks his eyes over and sees Greg’s hand overtop of his. Tom lets go of Greg’s knee and curls his fingers around Greg’s hand, so that they’re sitting there holding hands. Under his desk, Tom thinks, suddenly aware of the absurdity.

He feels Greg shift, and he can feel Greg’s eyes on him. He takes a second to gather his courage, then he turns so that his eyes meet Greg’s.

There’s a split-second where they stare at each other, anticipation hanging in the air between them, and then Tom lets go of Greg’s hand and - before he can chicken out - reaches up to take Greg’s hand and pull it down towards him, hoping that this isn’t going to turn out to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. His worries vanish almost immediately, though, when Greg crashes into him with an almost puppyish enthusiasm, and then the next thing Tom knows Greg is straddling his lap, his drink forgotten, one hand braced by Tom’s head under the desk and the other travelling up and down his side until it lands on his waist. The kiss is messy and passionate; Tom slides one hand around to the back of Greg’s head and one arm around his midriff, holding him there, and it feels so comfortable and familiar - it feels like home.

Eventually, Greg pulls back for air, and Tom can’t help but laugh at him, albeit fondly; Greg’s face breaks into a stupid goofy grin.

“Are you sure we haven’t done this before?” Tom asks.

“I think I’d probably remember that,” Greg answers, and Tom chuckles to himself.

He doesn’t want to leave it there, but they are under his desk still, and it’s - he checks his watch - 10am, and there’s a lot to do today. Plus - he doesn’t really know this Greg guy, not yet, and he’s always considered himself a gentleman, so it feels wrong to do anything else before they’ve even gone on a date.

“I think we need to get to work,” Tom says, and Greg’s face drops just a little, but he pulls himself to his feet. “Hey- help me up,” Tom adds, snapping his fingers, and Greg grabs his hands and pulls him to his feet.

“Okay. I need you to run me through everything we’re working on, which will probably take all day. And then,” he pauses significantly to throw Greg a glance, “I’m taking you out tonight.” Greg’s whole face lights up immediately at that.

“Okie dokie,” he says, rubbing his hands together, and then he walks over to Tom’s filing cabinet and pulls it open. “Where do you want to start?”

#fic #tomgreg #Tom Wambsgans #Greg Hirsch #asks #anon #I had so much fun writing this actually

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izvmimi · 1 year

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hi Mimi ^_^

if you’re up for it can you tell me how Izuku proposes and maybe even what your wedding dress looks like? <3

omg GRAY HI and afjdk;fa;ds tbh i have multiple selfship versions but this one i'm gonna share even though this is so embarrassingly sappy it's staying under the cut

so izuku ends up in the hospital cuz that's what he does, and of course i'm worried sick because it takes him a day or so to wake up, but when he's okay enough to get better and i've been nice to him long enough, here i am just absolutely laying in to him like

"how could you hurt yourself again? i was worried sick, i need you to take better care of yourself", just on and on.

and while i'm ranting he's got a really odd look in his eye, like glazed over, like he's listening and nodding but not really paying attention to the words i'm saying. i take a glance at his vitals and he's not like actively dying but i stop and i'm like "are you okay?"

and he just smiles and i'm like definitely considering traumatic brain injury

but then he's like

"can i interrupt you for a second?"

and i'm a little annoyed like "are you listening sir?"

and he's like "of course i am, i wanna listen to your voice forever" and i'm like huh but obviously i'm touched

so he looks around the room for his bag of belongings, and tries to get up and i of course am like "oh no, you're supposed to be on bedrest" and fuss so he lays back down so he asks me to get the bag for him please and i bring it over to him.

and so he rummages through the bag then tries to quickly sleight of hand a tiny box into his other hand, then gets up quickly

and i'm like "izuku!" and he's like "give me a second, this is important"

and he sorta stumbles out of bed and gets down on one knee as best he can and proposes then -

"would you do me the honor of being my wife? i can't promise you you'll never worry but i'll make sure you're always safe and cared for."

so obviously i start crying and he tells me that he wanted to ask me before he got dragged away by a surprise mission and that the entire time he was gone all he could think of was getting back safely to propose :((

anyway i'm soft now

and wedding dress would be something fairytale-esque cuz i'm embarrassing ->

#mimi replies #treasures: gray #mimidoriya

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laora-ryn · 1 year

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Just a general reminder that I work in a polytrauma rehab center, where you go after the trauma center once you're medically stable (ie you're not bleeding out, nothing is ruptured, you don't need ICU level of care anymore, just "standard" hospital care)

Friendly reminder to not ride a fucking motorcycle because when you crash, if you're not wearing a helmet you will probably die. If you ARE wearing a helmet, you'll probably survive to end up in our PRC with JUST a severe traumatic brain injury along with whatever burns/amputations/shattered bones/other trauma injuries you sustained.

You're looking at months of intensive physical/occupational/speech therapy after the month+ of initial trauma treatment to get you back up to your new baseline, which is definitely not what your old baseline is. If you're lucky, you get to relearn how to stand and walk. Either way you'll be fitted for a wheelchair because long distances aren't going to be doable for you anymore. You'll have to relearn how to do activities of daily living, like dressing yourself, feeding yourself, showering, using the toilet, brushing your teeth, navigating down a straight hallway to get to a room you've been to every day for the last month. You might need to relearn how to talk and how to swallow solid food. Your short term memory might just be GONE, along with your ability to make judgments or rational decisions like "I can't put weight on my legs, so I shouldn't stand up."

At our hospital you'd see each type of therapist 5-6 days a week for an hour at a time. Very occasionally you'll walk out of the unit after 3 months or so. Sometimes you're transferred out of here once you hit a plateau in recovery, and have to live in a skilled nursing facility since your family doesn't have the means to give you round the clock care. Sometimes you're somewhere in between these two.

If you're VERY lucky you'll be able to "graduate" to our next level of care, which is where you relearn to do instrumental ADLs including cooking, shopping, meal prep, budgeting, stuff like that. Maybe 20-30% of the patients we see here are candidates for that program. Everyone else depends on their spouse/children/parents/siblings/caregivers for these things, because they can't do them anymore.

So anyway. I'm just feeling very strongly about this right now because I just got off our weekly interdisciplinary team call. The floor covers anyone with brain damage, including any kind of TBI (motorcycle crashes, car crashes, gunshot wounds, etc) and non-traumatic BI (stroke, aneurysm, OD).

Over half of our current patients are in from motorcycle crashes.

One of them is discharging today and is going home with his brother with a rollator and a wheelchair. One of them is in a minimally conscious state and chances that that will change are diminishing. The other 10 are somewhere in between in varying stages of rehab.

And this is an extremely long winded post to say: PLEASE don't ride a fucking motorcycle. I have an answer to people who say "oh maybe you'll be one of my providers one day!", which is: I hope I'm not, because if I'm seeing you then you're in a really bad way one way or another, and I'd love to never see you at work. You do that by not doing risky shit PLEASE take care of yourself

#Mine #I don't really have an ending for this sorry #I'm just feeling some kind of way about this #Turns out #When you start regularly seeing patients younger than you at your adults-only hospital #It starts fucking you up a little

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biwritesfics · 10 months

Text

Dead Girls Don’t Die

Part 2: When the devil calls

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence, hospital setting. My previous parts have more exhaustive warnings just make the decision that feels right for you.

1k words

——————————————————————————

Something was very very wrong. I bolt up lashing out blindly. A ball of ice-cold crackling energy shoots from my hand. A bearded man dressed in some kind of robes moves his hands opening a portal out of thin air and then closes it; trapping the energy. That's shocking and amazing and all but I can't help but stare down at my own hands in shock. “I apologize, that is- erm, a new development.” I murmur.

“It's alright I've handled worse, it's actually my job to handle mystic problems but that's not why I'm here.” I raise an eyebrow in his direction. “Tony Stark called in a favor so I came to look at your scans. In my career I handled some interesting cases, but it's rare to see damage like yours.” My heart skips a beat. “You can see the damage?” “Yes there’s damage to the frontal cortex of your brain and various injuries to your nerves If I’m correct you don’t have feeling on the soles of your feet?” I nod. It wasn’t that big of a deal until it turns out I’ve had something embedded in my foot for God knows how long.

“You're otherwise functional, we released some pressure from the base of your skull so that should be tender for a while, overall you have a clean bill of health. I raise my eyebrow inquisitively at him. “Is the psych eval not in or what?” “That’s clean too, you tested positive for the mutant gene. It explains your abilities.” My mind is going a mile a minute trying to process exactly what he’s saying. “That can’t be it, at least not the only…” I pause thinking for a second. “They found the bunker didn’t they?”

He seems to contemplate lying before admitting the truth. “Yes State and Local authorities are on scene, I suspect the FBI won’t be far behind.” I nod softly, it’s strange for my deep secrets to be common knowledge. “I appreciate your help but I have one question for you. Am I taking this IV out or are you because I have to go.” “No one is taking the IV out because the moment you’re off the morphine you’ll have a migraine strong enough to take out a grown man.”

“Coming from a girl who's taken out two grown men, just remove the damn IV” I wasn’t angry, just firm. I could tell he would be a tough nut to crack. “No I’m not risking the wellbeing of my patient you’re staying put” he counters. “You have a very short amount of time before I just rip it out.” I threaten. “Try that young lady and I'll restrain you.” His glare shows that he wanted to use words other than “young lady”

Sadly I’m still above begging. “Can I at least get a call? I've been in prisons with better bedside manner” I grumble. I think he says something about kids these days as he hands me the hospital phone. I feel a presence behind me. “I memorized the Lawyers number” Martin says. I push the phone in his direction and he dials. I place the receiver to my ear and listen to it ring.

I can hear the conversation in the background of the call. “I’m not your fucking secretary Red Im not taking your calls. “Just five minutes Castle I have to talk to the police chief and social services.” There’s some grumbling before someone finally speaks directly into the phone. “This is Matt Murdock’s phone. What do you want?” “Hi I’m Sylvia Cole I was hoping I could speak to Mr.Murdock regarding his visit to Massachusetts? He inhales sharply. “I’m assuming you’ve seen it, can I

ask— . “There were 12” he answers quickly, sparing me from asking the question.

My mind is reeling for a moment. “You need to tell then there are five more, the earliest ones.” “Alright Doll I’ll send the message,” he tells me. “Thank you, Mr…?” “Castle, Frank Castle you can call me Frank,” he replies. “Thank you, Frank, I truly appreciate your help,” I tell him softly. “Anytime Doll, call if you need anything alright? “I will, goodbye.” I set the phone in its cradle appreciating the satisfying sound.

Strange was staring at me as if he expected my head to burst into flames at any given moment. “I do hold some respect for you Dr.Strange I won’t rip the IV out I swear it. If you find me a bible I’ll swear it well or the Torah I’m half and half either works,” I offer. “Somehow I don’t believe that as you choose to sass me and promise in the same breath.” “You gotta let a girl have her fun somehow Doctor. The ghosts don't always get my humor.”

“The ghosts, what exactly are they like?” Strange asks taking a seat in the hospital chair. “Well they're all different, most of them are either terribly sad or angry at their predicament. I'm not entirely sure how they become ghosts, but they're not quite good or evil. Not in the black or the white ; they just get stuck in the grey. That's what I call where they go when I can't see them.” I explained to him. He begins to ask a question but doesn't get to finish it as I begin to scream bloody murder at the sight in front of me.

“What is it, what is it!?” Strange grabs me by the shoulders. I fall against his chest sobbing. “I can see them and I can feel their pain. They were just babies how could he do this? He was a father, he was my father, how could he do this to us.” Strange wraps me in his arms awkwardly at first but he softens a bit rocking me back and forth. “It’s alright he’s gone he can’t hurt anyone else.” “No no! you don’t understand they keep chanting it.” I try and scream louder to drown them out but I still hear them as a needle pricks my shoulder and my eyelids droop.

He’s alive He’s alive He’s alive He’s alive He’s alive

#fanfic #doctor strange #steven strange #frank castle #marvel #marvel mcu #dark!#ghosts

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reidsaurora · 2 years

Text

"Not Letting Go" ~ S. Reid

Summary: Spencer recalls Y/N's death from his point of view.

Pairing: Husband!Spencer Reid x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1,435

Content Warning: character death, mentions of injuries, hospital related things, mild swearing

Genre: Angst with a somewhat happy ending

Extra Notes: N/A, i think

Based On: the first part of this lol

Originally Written: 01/29/2022

Part One can be found here!

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[ Spencer's POV ]

"No, I'm not gonna lose you, dammit! I can't!" I screamed as I continued pressing down on Y/N's chest. I gave her a quick kiss as I continued to perform CPR, just in case this was the last time I'd feel her lips.

Nothing.

"Come on! Breathe, baby!"

I didn't even notice JJ had walked back into the room until I heard her say, "Spence, it's over."

"No, it's not, Jennifer! Not if I can help it!" I replied, my breathing heavy and my hands shaky. I leaned down, attempting to give Y/N mouth-to-mouth.

"Spencer, you're going to break her sternum if you keep on with the CPR!"

"If it means bringing her back, I'll break every bone in her body. We can fix broken bones, you can't fix death. Now would you please call an ambulance?"

"Spencer, she-"

"JJ, I'm not gonna stop," I said point blankly, turning my head to face her as I spoke.

"OK," she replied weakly, pulling out her phone and walking out of the room.

I continued to switch back and forth between chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth for a while, not even keeping track of the time. All I knew was that I was determined to get my wife back.

As I found myself doing another round of mouth-to-mouth, I heard JJ walk in and say, "Spence, the medics are here."

"Mr. Reid?" I heard a deep voice say.

As I began to answer, I saw it. Y/N took a deep breath, like she was regaining life.

"She's breathing!" I shouted, excitement filling my body from the top of my head to the tips of fingers and toes.

"We'll take it from here, Mr. Reid," the medic from before said as he and another medic began maneuvering all of their equipment.

I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I was right. I wasn't letting her go just yet.

☆☆☆

[ Y/N's POV ]

I was breathing. I could open my eyes. I didn't know how, but I could.

The first thing I noticed was that I was pain-free. Immediately, I assumed I was dead, but something felt off. Like there was a portion of my brain that was convinced I was still alive somehow.

"I've been expecting you," I heard a familiar voice. But it couldn't be… he was dead.

How was I alive but talking to someone who was dead?

"Dad?" I asked, finally having opened my eyes and meeting his gaze.

"Hi, darling," he smiled. Even when he was still alive, I rarely saw him smile, so it was a comforting feeling.

"What are you doing here? How are you here?" I questioned.

"Well, you're sort of in this in-between stage. I'm here to convince you to go back."

"Go back?"

"Yeah. As much as I love you and I miss you, Spencer and your children need you more."

"But for the first time in a really long time, I'm not in pain. Are you sure?"

"I can't tell you how I know this, but if you go back, you'll be pain-free there too," he said.

"But what if I'm not?"

"Trust me, you will be. You just have to trust me. I need you to go back, for Gideon, for Anna, and maybe even more importantly, for Spencer."

"They miss you, Dad. We all do."

"I'm not the one they're missing the most right now," he replied.

I exhaled deeply. I wasn't sure how, but now I was sure I had to go back. I had to come back to life.

"OK, I'll do it. But, I have a question."

"What's that?"

"Why couldn't you hold on?" Surely, I wasn't the only one with this choice.

"I was murdered. I didn't have a choice. You have a choice. This doesn't have to be the end for you," he explained, a sympathetic look on his face. This was one of the rare occasions I'd seen my father have an expression that wasn't stoic.

I placed my hand in his, wanting to savor this moment while it was still happening. "I love you, Dad. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank that genius of yours that needs you around. And those two beautiful kids."

I gave him a small smile, knowing it was time.

He stopped me by saying, "One last thing, thank you."

"For what?"

"For naming your son after me. I know Diana is thankful that you named Anna after her as well," he elaborated.

"Of course. Wally and I might not have had the best childhoods ever, but in the end, we both ended up with some pretty OK parents," I said. Finally, I sighed, "Again, I love you, Dad. Thank you."

"I love you more."

[ Spencer's POV ]

I didn't know how, but even when she was connected to multiple types of monitors and cords, she was still beautiful to me.

It had been a whole day since she… well, you know. For 24 hours, she was in this limbo state, somewhere between dead and alive. But, she was breathing, and that's all that mattered to me.

By this point, I had begun to question if it had even been worth it. It wasn't that I didn't want my wife back, but I didn't understand why I was putting myself through this.

It wasn't fair to myself to have to hold her practically lifeless hand, to have to look at her practically lifeless body.

In the midst of my pondering, I could've sworn I saw her eyelid twitch, like it might open.

I'd started to cry by the time I began speaking to her. "My love, I don't know if you can hear me, but I miss you. We all do," I started, feeling a couple tears fall down my cheek. I chuckled a little as I said, "This is usually the part where I'd give you some sort of statistic on coming out of a coma, and then I'd get insecure and apologize and you'd say, 'Wally, I love it when you speak smart to me.'"

Her hand began twitching in mine, which at first, made me excited. But then, when I remembered that the body can do that in pretty much any state, I lost a little bit of hope. It could've just been the machine.

"Just in case you were wondering, it's somewhere between 10% and 15%."

I sighed as I looked at my feet, knowing I couldn't make eye contact with her face.

"Wally," I heard a voice, no, the voice, her voice, say weakly.

"Y/N?" I looked up quickly.

"I love it when you speak smart to me."

For a moment, it felt like the whole world stopped. Like it was just me, her, and the oxygen in the air.

I leaned down and gave her a kiss. Granted, she was having trouble kissing back because of how weak she was, but I didn't care. She was back, and that's what mattered.

"Hi," she said softly.

"God, I missed you," I told her. I found myself rubbing her hair with one of my hands. Though it hadn't been washed in days, it was somehow the softest I'd ever seen it.

"I missed you."

"I thought… I didn't…" I struggled to form a whole sentence as I began crying again. "I couldn't lose you."

"Hey, shhh," she attempted to comfort me, placing her hand on my cheek to the best of her ability, "I'm here now."

I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles softly.

"I have a question," she said.

"Anything, my love."

"Would you say I was crazy if I told you I saw my dad?"

I was a bit stunned by her statement to say the least. Considering he'd been dead for a couple months, I was unsure how she'd come to the conclusion that she'd seen her father.

"You saw Jason?"

"Yeah, he told me I was somewhere between life and death and that he was sent to convince me to come back here."

I didn't know how to respond. Even throughout all the research I'd done in my life, I'd never heard of anyone being visited by a dead relative before or during death.

"I know it sounds crazy, Wally, but I promise he was there."

"I believe you."

"He told me I wasn't ready to go yet. He said if I came back, I'd be pain-free here too."

"You will be. I promise," I stated, almost like I was declaring it.

And so, it was like everything was back to normal again. I didn't know what the future would hold, but I did know one thing: I wasn't letting her go, not just yet.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

AAAHHH, BET YOU GUYS WERENT EXPECTING A PART TWO OF THIS!!! To be fair, when I wrote the first part, I wasn't expecting to write a part two hahaha. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! I just wanted to pop in and write this little message lol.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

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hollowedwing · 3 years

Text

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

_________________________________

tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part.

Word count: ~1,800

_________________________________

You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly.

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought.

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters.

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door.

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events.

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on.

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess.

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good.

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I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

#hawks x reader #hawks x gn!reader #hawks x winged reader #bnha x reader #bnha x gn!reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #keigo x you #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #ahHHHh i really hope this ok???#feedback might be nice? idk Dx #I'm still not in the flow of fanfic writing DX its been 5 years #geeeeZ #also I apologize for the amount of ellipses that i use #thats just how I text/talk kinda #isekaied into hawks life

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avenging-criminal-bones · 3 years

Text

After All This Time || Chapter Five

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 2,146

Chapter Summary: Anger. And harshness, maybe feelings. I haven't decided yet so I guess you'll have to just read to find out.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst?, asshat hotch again, sad feels

A/N: Guys, I'm like legitimately so sorry that this chapter took so long. It's not even that I've been all that busy. I definitely did go to California for two weeks, but after that I think I just got lazy? Had writer's block? I don't know. But New chapter is UP.

TAGLIST:

@kingofthetwats @wanniiieeee @uwu-sebastianstan @piggyinthesea @yoshigguk @thatisthemagic @errorcosplay67 @ivebeenthinkingboutu @big-galaxy-chaos @rynfoxsleeps @phoenixsnape1 @mojofun @pachiibatt @enjoymyloves @thenewnormalforensicator @word-scribbless @zezezena @chelseyjoyce @ellyhotchner @lora21 @flipperpenguins @illegal-brains @sunnysaysbookreviews @anti-zippy-snoot @kya-li

You come to eleven hours later, the first thing that you hear being the steady beep of a monitor.

The hospital.

It smells... white, the cleanness of it making you scrunch your nose. Still not having opened your eyes, you sense the brightness, almost making you not want to at all.

However, you knew how hospital visits work. When Reid was injured, the whole team was there waiting for him to wake up. With that push, that you had people waiting for you to wake up, you opened your eyes.

Everything was too bright at first. You felt your lips fall into a grimace and joked aloud, "You guys don't need to be so quiet, she lives."

There was no response, and as your vision cleared up, the wind was knocked out of you like a punch to the gut.

Empty.

The whole room was empty. Aside from you and the TV, there was no talking. There were no people.

For a moment you thought that you were dead. Or maybe dreaming, because who wakes up from a seemingly severe injury with no support system? With no friends.

You hear your heartbeat speed up before you feel it, but boy do you feel it when it hits.

The monitor must send an alert to the nurses' station or something because shortly after, a small, black-haired woman rushes into the room.

"Agent L/N? Are you alright, is there any-,"

"I just- where- did my- wh-where is my team?" The stutter surprised you and you sat up fast, not realizing how prominent the pain in your abdomen was until it was too late. You let out a soft gasp, but looked at the nurse to hear an answer.

"Oh, uh, honey... I asked as they left and the tall, broody one said that there was an emergency." She walked up to you and turned a dial on your IV machine, gently asking you to lay down again.

You complied, not fully paying attention. Your mind was somewhere else; thinking about the harshness of your team, but you had to assume that this was Hotchner's doing.

"You alright, sweetie," the kind nurse asks, her name is Monica.

You nod slowly, your head feeling a lot lighter than it had when you woke up. "Yeah. I'm okay. Um, before you go can you hand me my phone?"

She nods, looking at you for where, and you gesture to the bag that's slightly out of your reach. Monica hands you both the phone and its charger, pointing to an outlet on the wall behind your head.

Nodding in thanks, you plug the charger into the wall and watch the kind nurse leave before unlocking your phone. You see immediately that you have five missed calls from your mother, and after further searching, you notice messages from Emily, JJ, and Penelope. JJ's was the most recent, so you open hers first.

JJ (BAU) 43 minutes ago.

Hey Y/N, In case you wake up before we get back, Hotch called our debrief meeting, so we all went back to the precinct. Sorry, hon.

xoxo JJ and the Girls

You didn't register the tears until they were falling down your cheeks. You sighed a bit and replied to JJ's message with a short, 'got it'.

As soon as you pushed the 'send' button, the door to your room opened again and your entire team rushed in.

Well, most of the team.

Really, everyone except one person.

You were quick to wipe your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you had been crying. JJ walked to the chair beside your bed and sat down, giving you the most gentle hug as she did.

"Did you get my message? Are you feeling okay? Do you need a nurse, any water?"

"JJ, you're momming her," Derek joked as he bent to give you a hug. "For real though, you feelin' alright, lil mama?"

You nodded, sending him a tight-lipped smile as Emily walked over to the other side of your bed, bringing Penelope with her on a video call.

Spencer even came by, but he looked relatively uncomfortable and stayed by the door.

Waving at him a bit, you say, "You can come in you know. I won't bite."

"I know, Y/N. I was just worried. Statistically speaking, you survived on an off-chance. The ratio was close to 83:17, and the bullet entered your abdomen in-"

"I get it Spence. I should be dead," you pause slightly seeing everyone's wide-eyed look at your bluntness, "BUT I didn't die, so everyone can stop looking at my like I'm going to break and just settle." You chuckle a bit and sigh as you see the rest of the team besides Spencer nod their heads or visibly relax their shoulders.

"You're right, kiddo," Rossi says quietly, "You're okay, and we can celebrate that."

"Thanks, Rossi." Smiling, you lean into his hand, which was cradling the side of your face for a moment. "Can someone get Hotchner please? I had some words that I'd like to have him hear."

JJ places her hand on your arm then and says, "Y/N, maybe that's not the best idea right now."

"No," you shake your head and make eye contact with her, "That's exactly what I need right now."

"Y/N..."

"Spencer, can you go get him please? He's just sitting out in the lobby, correct?" You snap a little harsher than you meant to.

The boy stutters a bit, but eventually nods his head and walks out of the room. The rest of the team shares a look before also walking out, giving you space for when your boss comes in.

Sitting up straighter in the bed, you even your mouth into a thin line just as Hotchner walks in the room.

"Am I off the clock right now, sir?" You don't miss the way his eyes flash to your lips but you choose to ignore it.

He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "Say what you need to say, agent."

"Who the hell do you think you are? Calling the debrief not only at a time where one of the team members can't make it, but when the team member is in the hospital with a GSW wound." Your voice rises steadily as you continue talking, but you have more to say. "Not only that, but you couldn't even be bothered to make sure I was okay when the debrief was over?" Subconsciously, you recognize the switch from a third-person mindset to a personal one, but you pay it no mind.

"Agent L/N, you-"

"No. You will call me Y/N, and I will be calling you Aaron. We aren't on the clock right now and you don't deserve my professionalism," the heart monitor spikes in tempo, and you throw the blanket off of your lap.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as you command him, but nods his head slightly, letting you be in control for the moment. "Go ahead, Y/N. You get whatever irrational anger you have towards me out in the open and we can deal with the consequences later."

"I left EVERYTHING for this job, Aaron. I left my mom, who never stopped grieving a lost son, I left my job there thinking this would be better, and I lost friends and people who actually cared about my well-being. People who wouldn't leave one of their own in an unknown hospital to wake up by themself, not sure if they were even actually alive since there wasn't anyone with them." You saw Aaron flinch with everything that you listed, but you didn't care. He needed to hear it. "So yeah, Aaron. I get to be angry, and you don't get to tell me it's irrational, because this is the most rational I think I've been this entire year."

"Y/N. You put not only yourself, but me, and the rest of the team in danger yesterday. Excuse me if I don't want to see you and be around you while you're in the hospital." Really, if burned Aaron to his core that he couldn't reach over and tuck the stray piece of hair behind your ear, because right now that's what he wanted to do. Except it's inappropriate and he's not sure you'd let him within three feet of you.

"NO! You see, that's not how it works. Are you telling me that if you saw a little boy with a gun trained on them, you wouldn't have done the exact same thing?" Hot tears fill your eyes, but you don't wipe them. You almost hope that him seeing you cry will make him feel bad, if even just a little.

Glancing at the way his jaw was set and how he clenched his fists in his lap, you knew he was struggling to keep his cool, so of course you pushed harder.

"What if it was Jack, Aaron."

"Dammit, L/N, it wasn't Jack. It was just some boy that we couldn't save. We shouldn't have been able to save him. You didn't use the training you had, and you didn't use the rational part of your brain. As terrible as that sounds, and trust me, I never want to lose a victim, if you had used the training from the bureau, we wouldn't have saved him. " Aaron stands up and paces the length of the bed then, feeling your eyes following him the whole time.

You shake your head as you let your gaze fall to your lap. "I wasn't going to let him die again... I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

Aaron's eyebrows furrow a bit and he looks at you with angry curiosity in his eyes, "Again? What do you mean by that?" That's when Hotch remembered earlier when you mentioned her mother who lost a son. "Y/N, did your brother... No. Actually, I'm sorry, just forget I said anything,"

There was a dark anger in your eyes as you shook your head. "No, Aaron. Ask me. Ask me this one question, and then reassess your profiling of me."

His gaze turned steely as he squared his shoulders again, showing no emotion in his voice as he spoke. He almost felt like the best way to approach you right now was as if you were the unsub.

"Was your brother murdered, Y/N?"

Dropping your head, you feel the tears burning in your eyes again and you nod. "He was only five. He had his whole life ahead of him. You'd think a child would be safe with a group of nuns or a priest, but no. Not even them. He was branded with a cross before he was killed and it's just unfair."

Aaron starts to walk closer to your bed, seeing the devolving pattern of your breathing, "Y/n, I'm so sorry, I-"

"No. Aaron, just, please go. I'll catch a flight home when I'm allowed to fly again, so you guys just go home and I'll figure it out. I mean, that's what I did when I was waking up by myself, right? Go ahead and fire me if you need to, suspend me, I don't care anymore, but I'll come back when the hospital says it's safe." You take a deep breath and watch as he turns away.

He gets all the way to the door before he turns back around and says, "What was his name."

"Joey."

Hotch nods and walks out of the door, remembering that the final victim, the one that you saved, was named Joseph.

After the encounter with Hotch you fell asleep. The heavy medication and the anger in your head knocked you out easily. You were asleep for a few hours, but you woke up when your pain medication wore off.

You noticed that your work phone had a few notifications, so you sat up a bit and looked through them.

There were two that stood out to you. The first one was a notification that read "Hotchner (Asshat) has added you to the group 'BAU Team'". The second was his message in that group chat.

Hotchner (Asshat) 2 hours ago

Hey team, change in plans. We will be staying here until Y/N gets cleared to fly. It should only be a couple of days and I know we were planning on flying out tonight. Sorry, Thanks.

As soon as you liked his message, your texts were blowing up from Emily. She was saying stuff about how "he totally likes you", and about, "you had a rough time on this case".

Also, apparently Derek saved all of his sarcasm for when Hotch got back, and the thought made you smile.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #angst #sadness #talk of child death

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waywardtakami · 3 years

Text

- don't leave me

✦pairing: hawks x gn!reader

✦c/w: language, slight mha manga spoilers, 16+ only , angst

✦a/n: hello!! I'm very excited about this fic, it's my first gn one! It's been sitting in my wips for so long and I'm finally happy with it. hopefully people will still read this without there being smut. thank you! <3

✦summary: hawks gets hurt during a mission...

✦w/c: 2k

Keigo had left you again to fight in another mission. He had only been gone for a few days, but you wished he was with you instead. You missed him so much. He hadn't been physically by your side in so long, causing your heart to ache again. Times like these were practically torture. Waking up without him by your side was agonizing, but you were used to it.

His job was all-consuming and you knew him being away for large amounts of time would affect you when you committed yourself to this relationship. There was a constant worry for his life and maybe a little for your own.

You and Kei decided to keep your relationship as private as possible so no one would go after you. He didn't want anyone to kidnap or hurt you.

Even though his musk scent was flooded throughout your shared home, you still tried distracting yourself the best you could.

After making your favorite food, you plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV to try and take your mind off him.

As the TV flickered on, your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. A gruff voice played over what was being shown. You assumed it was just something about his stats or a recent interview per usual. It didn't help the feeling in your heart subside by seeing him.

You changed the channel, again and again. But every channel had been taken over by the same broadcast. You eventually fixated and listened.

Your heart dropped.

Hawks had been accused of murder.

"Murder...?" you mumbled to yourself. "No..he...what?" Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to thump out of your chest. You were stuck in a pool of emotions of confusion and immense shock, it was like your head was on fire.

Dabi...one of the League of Villain members was behind this. All the information you received was from Keigo's colleagues and the media.

Keigo had been hurt bad...real bad.

The fact that you couldn't do anything about it had you overwhelmed and panicked. When you finally found out which hospital he was brought to through FatGum, you drove yourself there.

Of course he was brought to one one of the furthest ones from where you guys lived. On top of that, traffic was horrendous. With everything that had gone down, the citizens of the city were frantic and trying to get home to their families.

Your hands and entire body practically trembled while driving. Your eyes pricked with tears at the thought of Keigo's wounded state. "He's fine he's fine he's FINE!" You kept telling yourself over and over.

When you made it to the hospital, there was a large number of people in the waiting room. The sounds of people clamoring in and trying to get a room were deafening. You hurried over to the front desk.

"Hello Ma'am I need to see Hawks, he should be here." She wouldn't let you in his room. You wanted to see him, no you needed to see him. You started crying, pleading, begging for her to let you go in his room. But the front desk lady apologized and insisted he needed to rest and isn't accepting visitors.

You knew it was really because she probably thought you were just some fan of his. Or maybe even a reporter trying to sneak in photos. But no, you were his baby, his life, and they weren't going to let you in.

"I'M HIS DAMN PARTNER FOR GOD SAKES!" You yell while slamming your fist against the counter. You didn't realize how much impact you put into your fist until you felt pain in your hand. The waiting room goes almost quiet and heads turn to look at you. You glance back to see all the faces turned to you.

Your voice softens from embarrassment. "Please...just let me see him." Your fist still against the counter looking at the nurse with tears streaming down your face.

She stands up and moves closer, "I'm so sorry, I believe you…" She slides a clip board with a few papers attached. "...but we can't let you in just yet he's still recovering from his injuries, he needs to rest right now. Please fill these out while you wait." She looks back up with you with a faint smile. She really does believe you. She can see it in your eyes, the pain, she understood.

You release your hand, and pick up the clipboard. Looking at her on the other side of the counter you give her a face flustered nod and mouth a quick "thank you."

You go sit down comfortably in one of the empty chairs to wait for keigo to wake up...

The news of your wounded boyfriend was already half across Japan. After filling out the forms you scroll through your phone to calm yourself down. You kept seeing post after post about him. Almost all news headlines had his name.

You think to yourself about how much of it is all bullshit and that he's fine. Deep down you weren't sure if the words your brain kept telling you were true. You click on one of the posts about him that reads:

"THE NUMBER TWO PRO HERO DEAD"

Your heart skips a beat, but quickly you realize it's just a fake. You scroll through, lightly skimming the bullcrap you were reading. You scroll and see a photo taken of him the night he was brought to the hospital. You wonder how the press even got a photo of him. You focus on the photo, he does look dead. It only showed his upper body, completely covered in burns. More tears forming at the corners of your eyes just seeing him in the photo. Oh and his wings, his big bright vermilion wings...gone.

You were a complete mess at this point but your sniffles and choked sobs were interrupted by the front desk lady waving to you. "He's awake."

Quickly following her into the room you see him. As you stand in the doorway for a moment, your heart sinks. You hurry to him. He had bandages wrapped around his head. His hair was short and mostly singed off. And his wings...they really were gone. "I'll leave you two alone," the nurse walks out and closes the door behind her.

You turn back to him.

"Kei?" you whimpered out.

His half lidded eyes look at you. His formerly bright, charming and yellow pupils have become dark and filled with anguish. He was wearing a mask over his nose and mouth with two tubes coming from the sides of it. He couldn't speak or breath himself, due to his throat being burned.

Of course he knew it was you. Tears welled up deep inside and coursed down his cheeks. Seeing him like this had your body nauseas. You move to cup your hand on his face, feeling the material of his mask rather than his soft subtle skin. You graze your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe away his tears.

You pick up one of his hands to hold it in yours. "Kei….I'm so glad you're okay." You were sniffling through each word. He slowly raises his arm to point to the phone sitting on the table near his hospital bed. Handing it to him, you watch as his calloused fingers type out what he wants to say.

"Angel, I've missed you so much, please never leave my side." You faintly smile at him, wishing you could hear those words come from his mouth and not the AI voice.

"I won't leave you Keigo, I'm here, I won't go anywhere."

He types again. "I'm pretty beat up, but I think I'll make it."

Your ears focus on "think" for a moment. "Yes Kei you'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay. You felt a bit better being in his presence but you still couldn't bear the sight of him. Your eyes began to prick with tears once again and this time Kei was the one who bought his hand up to brush your tears away just like you did moments ago.

You try your best to wrap your arms around him without causing him anymore pain. You could feel him wince when you laid your head against his chest. "Sorry Kei I didn't mean to hur-" He waves his hand and shakes his head, signaling that it's okay.

Your body looked calm despite how tangled your mind was.There were many questions that flooded your mind. So many things you wanted to say. But you could worry about the details later. Right now you were finally with him again, there was no way you were letting him leave you ever again.

You were bent over, upper body on top of him at an awkward position. You didn't want to hurt him, so this had to work.

Despite the position, you took in the moment with your boyfriend. Feeling his chest slowly rise up and down. You close your eyes and imagine you were back home with him in bed. Just snuggling on a weekend afternoon, light shining in on him making his wings light up beautifully against the sun. His golden locks and glowing skin, his scent washing over your senses. Your warm bodies practically glued together. You wanted that again, you wanted everything back to normal.

He moved one of his scarred hands to your back, slowly rubbing up and down. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He was fighting so hard on the inside. So damn hard...for you. He didn't want to leave you, he couldn't. His mind wandered about the life he had planned to have with you.

He faintly smiled under the mask when he imagined you walking down the aisle...holding your first child...sitting in little rocking chairs growing old together. That's all he wanted.

Both of your tears never stopped. You were both silent. The only sounds to be heard were each other's quiet sniffles and the monitor Keigo was attached to, making a faint beep to his heart beat. Still laying on his chest, his breathing started to slow and so did the beeping, being lost in the moment you didn't notice really but he knew.

He waved his hand signaling for you to stand up and brought his hand to take off his mask. He couldn't hold on much longer. Every aching pain inside him felt like knives stabbing his insides and with each stab more time from his life was taken.

"Kei, you need to keep it on to breath, please." He shakes his head and takes it off anyways. The beeping still started to slow. The mask hung off the side of his face. His honeyed voice now husk from the burns.

"Baby...I love you so...so.." He coughs making him hiss at the pain.

"No..fuck..Kei stop, you're going to be okay just put the damn mask on."

"I'm too..far..gone, I have no more fight left."

Holding his jaw in your hands,your face inches from him. "No you have to stay strong for me, please don't leave me again, I can't do this without you."

"Kid...please...when I'm gone...find someone else and-

"NO- I ONLY WANT YOU!" You cry out, holding his head to your chest. Long-lasting sobs leaving your mouth.

"I love...you" His breathing is heavy from trying to speak. He needed to tell you this. He needed you to understand how much he loves you.

Moving his head from your chest. "I love you too...kiego." You manage to say through your choked sobs.

You move to have your lips brush his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin. He closes his eyes and connects his lips to yours. It was deep and passionate, like you were kissing him for the first time. You held one side of his face with one hand, and held his hand with the other.

But when you pull away, his eyes don't open. It's like that's all he wanted, no needed. One last kiss, one last touch. To feel you.

His breathing completely slows, and you're left with the prolonged beep of the monitor. He was gone. The man who was always too fast for his own good, had left you and the world too fast.

✶tag list: @levithestripper @sleepysnk @conniesspringersgf @regretfulfairies @miyanom @sashatotie @romeoandjuliet96 @strawberry-pp @megvmi-s @cinnamonnn-roll @gooddayzarerare @kkodzvken

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liron-ao3 · 2 years

Text

Where we belong

Dean opens his eyes slowly. He blinks against the white light blinding him. Where is he? He tries to sit up but sinks back into the uncomfortable bed when his head feels as if it were hit by a baseball bat. Maybe it was.

"You're awake," a man says. "He's awake. Quick, Claire, get a nurse!"

A nurse? He must be in a hospital. Makes sense, with the white walls and unnerving beeping. Dean groans and tries to open his eyes, this time more slowly.

"There you are. You scared me out of my wits," the man says, cupping his cheek tenderly.

Dean flinches away from the touch. This man doesn't wear scrubs. He isn't a doctor. Why the hell is he touching him?

"It's gonna be alright, love. The doctors said your injuries are healing well… for the circumstances, at least. You'll be back in no time."

"Who…?"

The man shushes him. "It doesn't matter, Dean. The police are taking care of it. Donna and Jody put every officer they could spare on your case. They will find these assbuts."

Dean has no idea who these women are, but he has no time to ask as a woman in a white doctor's coat with the name 'Mosley' embroidered on it enters the room, a blonde teenage girl in tow.

"Mr Winchester. Welcome back to the world of the living. We had to place you in an artificial coma for a while, to keep the swelling of your brain in check. Luckily, the attackers were interrupted early enough, and your healing is quicker than we expected. There shouldn't be any long-term aftereffects of your injuries. We're happy that you're back."

The stranger on the chair next to Dean's bed smiles at the doctor. It's strained but genuine. "I can't thank you enough, Doctor." He grabs Dean's hand and gives it a squeeze.

"Keep your hands to yourself. What's wrong with you, man?" Dean all but shouts.

The other man's face loses all colour. He huffs a nervous laugh. "I didn't know I wasn't allowed to touch my husband."

Dean blinks at him. His eyes flicker to the doctor and the girl next to her. "What sick joke is this?" he asks them. "I don't know this man. Did he claim to be my husband? He's probably the one who attacked me."

Fear washes over Dean. He doesn't remember the attack, but how could the hospital let a complete stranger into his room?

"Dad. You're kidding, right?" the teenager asks.

Dean swallows hard. She's looking straight at him. "I'm not anybody's dad. I don't know what you're talking about."

The doctor clears her throat. "Mr and Ms Novak, would you please go to the waiting room? I'm with you in a moment."

Mr Novak nods and looks at Dean, his hand twitching in an effort not to touch. "Yes." He gets up. "Come, Claire. Your father needs a moment. We should call your uncle and tell him that Dad is awake."

She looks at Dean with tears running over her face. "Why doesn't he remember us?"

Mr Novak lays an arm around her shoulder. "His head was hit hard. I'm sure he'll be his old self soon." He guides the girl out of the room, turning one last time. He looks wracked. Sadness washes over Dean's body like a tidal wave. He has no idea why. This guy must be sick in the head, playing his husband and pulling the poor girl into the charade.

"We'll have to thoroughly check you, Mr Winchester," Dr Mosley says and starts with checking his vitals.

***

"Finally someone I know. Took you long enough, bitch." Dean grins widely at his brother. Sam presses his lips to a thin line. "What's with the grumpy face, man? I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am, Dean. Believe me. You scared the shit out of all of us."

Dean waves him off. "I've survived worse."

"No, Dean. You didn't," Sam croaks. His voice sounds heartbroken. "We thought we'd lose you."

"Oh, please. I'm a Winchester. We have skulls made of steel."

Sam nods and shoves his hands into his jeans. He takes a step to the side, giving free view to the psychiatrist, the woman who examined Dean over the last few hours.

"What is she doing here?"

"Dr MacLeod just wants to be here in case…" Sam breathes out raggedly. "Dean, they say you don't remember having a family."

"Of course I remember. There's you, and Eileen, and your baby boy on the way. How could I forget?"

Sam looks over at Dr MacLeod. "So… you don't remember your husband? Or your kids?"

"Sam, not you, too. Why the hell would I marry a man? I'm straight. And you know that I never wanted kids. What's up with all that crap? Come on, Sammy."

Sam breathes a sigh. "Dean, you've been married for two years. Cass and you have been together for six, maybe seven. You adopted Claire when she was twelve and Jack when he was five."

Dean stares at his little brother. "Is this Punk'd or what?" Sam's strained expression gives Dean pause. The doctors tried to make him believe that this Castiel guy was married to him, but he just laughed it off and flirted with the cute nurse. She's his type—big boobs and an ass to die for. Her smile is nice, too. He'll most definitely slide her his number when he gets discharged.

Sam pulls a chair to the side of Dean's bed and slumps into it. He runs his hands through his hair. "Dean. This is real. You have amnesia."

Dean's eyes narrow. He furrows his brow. No. No, that can't be true. "I don't. It's the year 2021, there's a pandemic going on, and you play stupid mind games?"

Sam licks his lip. "Where do you live, Dean?" he asks sternly.

Dean rolls his eyes. As if he wouldn't know. He racks his brain. The answer should be easy, but he can't really reach out to it. "A… white house?"

Sam nods. "Who else is living there?"

Dean huffs a laugh. "Who should live there? I'm… Wait, do I have a dog?"

Sam nods. "Miracle, yes. Remember how you got her?"

Dean screws up his face trying hard to remember but coming back empty.

"Jack got lost at the fair. We found him cuddling with this abandoned pup, and you adopted her."

Dean shakes his head. "I don't know a kid named Jack. Why… why are you telling me all this?" Tears prick Dean's eyes. He should remember. But all he can remember is kissing Trevor McCalkin in 8th grade and being beaten to a pulp by him and his friends. He swore himself that he would never kiss a man ever again.

Sam pulls his phone from the pocket of his jacket and starts a video before he hands it to Dean. "I took this last May at my birthday. We did a garden barbecue, socially distanced and all."

Dean looks down at the phone. There he stands with Sam's kiss-the-cook apron, flipping burgers. The man from earlier walks to him and embraces him from behind. He presses a kiss to his cheek, and Dean laughs. He turns to him and kisses him on the lips.

Dean shoves the phone back in Sam's hand and gets up from the bed. "This is some sick joke. This prank isn't funny, Sam. I'm not a faggot."

"Dean," Sam all but screams.

"I don't suck cock. No offence to anyone liking that, okay? To each, their own. But this… this isn't me, Sam. I can't believe you…" He throws his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Mr Winchester, please, calm down," Dr MacLeod says, voice carefully even.

"How am I supposed to calm down when everyone is playing this stupid game?"

Dr MacLeod smiles at him kindly. It's infuriating. "Where are you working, Mr Winchester?"

"At Bobby's."

Sam sighs. "Bobby died nine years ago, Dean."

Dean steadies himself on the foot of his hospital bed. "No," he protests. Fuck! How could he forget? Sam's right. But if he doesn't work for Bobby then for whom does he?

"You haven't worked as a mechanic in years, Dean. You went to college. That's where you met Cass. He was one of your professors. You two…" He chuckles like one does about a fond memory. "You were made for each other. You were so in love, like teenagers in love level. I've never seen you like this, Dean." Tears fill Sam's eyes, and Dean has to avert his own.

"This… this can't be true. I'm not smart enough for college."

Sam blows a breath through his nose. "You're really acting as if the last decade didn't happen. Dean, you're smart, and you're loved."

"I'm not gay, Sam."

His brother glances at the psychiatrist. "You're at least gay for Cass. And you're a great father to two smart and sassy kids. You work as a teacher, and in your spare time, you volunteer at the LGBTQ+ Youth Shelter."

Tears run over Dean's face. "Stop it, Sam. This can't be…" he sobs.

"It's the truth, Dean."

"I think that's enough for the day," Dr MacLeod says.

Sam nods. He pulls a photograph from his bag. "I thought you'd like to have that. Maybe it helps you remember."

Dean doesn't move from where he is staring at the foot of his bed. Sam puts the picture on the bedside table. "I'll check in tomorrow. Don't do anything stupid," Sam says and pats Dean's back.

Dean answers with silence.

When he's finally alone, he sits down at the edge of his bed. His eyes fall on the photograph. He takes it and shakes his head. It doesn't look photoshopped. It's a family picture taken in a park. He has a boy on his knees. Mr Novak has an arm slung around his shoulder and the other around the blond girl Dean saw when he woke up. Eileen with a tiny baby bump leans against her as Sam leans against Dean on the other side.

Dean puts the photograph down and cards his hands through his hair. How the hell did he get to have a husband?

***

"Dissociative amnesia. It's rather rare, Mr Novak, but it happens. It usually stems from emotional shock or trauma," Dr MacLeod explains. "I think the reason for the attack—your husband being gay—could make him lose all memories surrounding your relationship.

'Bi,' Castiel thinks, but he doesn't correct the psychiatrist. It's all his fault. If Dean wouldn't have met him, he probably would never have come out, and these bigots wouldn't have beaten him to a pulp just because he wore a pride shirt.

"Will… will his memories come back?"

"Very likely. This kind of amnesia is usually rather brief. I'm sure when everything's calmed down, he'll remember. Especially when he's home, where he can connect with the surroundings, you, the kids." She breathes out audibly. "I know it's hard. But it's gonna be okay."

"How can he know what year it is, that Biden is president, and that we are in the middle of a pandemic, but not where he works or with whom he lives?"

Dr MacLeod smiles empathically. "The human psyche works in mysterious ways. Your husband's brain likely felt he needed protection."

Castiel nods. "When can I take him home?"

"He should be discharged any minute."

***

Charlie's mouth falls open when she sees Dean in his bloodstained clothes standing in front of her door.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" she asks softly.

He looks down at her nighty. "I didn't know where else to go. I can't go home if I don't know where home is and to complete strangers. And Sam—it's weird with him. He wants me to talk with… Castiel. But I can't, Charlie. And, apparently, everyone else I remember being friends with is either dead or moved away." He breathes a ragged sigh.

She nods at him in understanding. "You're lucky that I still live in this hovel. Come in. Are you hungry?"

He nods. "The food in the hospital was terrible."

Charlie chuckles. "It usually is. Want a change of clothes?" she asks when he shrugs out of his jacket and the blood-soaked tee underneath becomes visible.

"I'm not surprised that these thugs thought me to be a good target," Dean says as he looks down on his shirt.

"You always loved 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show', Dean. You introduced it to me, remember?"

"Yes, that I remember," he bites. Charlie winces at his harsh tone. Dean bites the inside of his cheek to ground himself. Charlie is his best friend. She doesn't deserve this shit. "But I don't remember buying a shirt with Frank N Furter and the gay flag on it."

Charlie looks at him sadly. "I bought it for your last birthday. You said you loved it." She's close to tears, and Dean could kick himself.

"I'm sorry, Charles. A change would be great. And maybe laundry. I don't have stuff on me."

"Didn't Cass bring you clothes?"

Dean shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I dunno. Haven't seen him." He worries his lip between his teeth. "Listen, I'm tired and hungry, and I really don't wanna talk about it." Charlie looks at him with sad Bambi eyes, but she still nods to Dean's relief.

Later, when he's taking a long bath, he pretends not to hear her talking over the phone with the man that everyone says is his husband. He also doesn't question the source of his perfectly fitting clothes, or asks why he heard Baby's engine in Charlie's driveway. He knows he's just lying to himself, but he needs to pretend that he's the Dean he's in his head. He needs to, for his own sanity. Until this nightmare is over.

***

Dean knocks at Castiel's door. Their door. He rubs his hands together. He's freezing. If it's simply the cold of the night creeping into his bones or the waking up in the wee hours, restless and lonely in Charlie's guest room, he doesn't know.

Castiel opens the front door tentatively. He looks tired and wrung out. No wonder, at four in the morning. He's wearing Dean's hot dog pyjama pants. Dean can't help but smile a little at the sight. His tousled hair makes Dean's heart ache in the best way possible.

"Dean," is all Castiel musters to say. Dean can see how he struggles not to open the screen door and wrap him in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Cass. Sweetheart, I…"

A sob leaves Castiel's mouth. Dean throws the screen door open and pulls his trembling husband into his arms. "I woke up, and I remembered… us. I'm so sorry. How could I forget? How? You and the kids, you're my life."

Castiel clings to him like to a mast during heavy sea. "The attack," he sobs.

"I can't remember any of it," Dean croaks. "But I remember our first kiss, and the days we brought Claire and Jack home. I remember you making love to me on the backseat of the Impala, and…" Dean presses his lips in Castiel's hair. "I remember stealing kisses in your office, and Adler's stupid face when you brought me to the faculty dinner."

Castiel chuckles wetly into Dean's shoulder.

"I remember how my knee cracked when I kneeled down to ask you to marry me, I remember how beautiful you looked in front of the altar. I remember how much I love you, Cass. I'm so sorry."

Castiel pulls back and brushes the tears away that are running seemingly infinitely. "It's okay, love." He presses his lips against Dean's in a desperate kiss. Dean sobs into it. It's messy and imperfect, tastes salty from both their tears.

"Will you stay?" Castiel whispers when they run out of air.

"There's no place I'd rather be."

Castiel grabs his hand and leads him silently upstairs to their bedroom. Dean smiles sadly when he sees their kids in the light falling in from the hallway.

"You think we still all fit in there together?" he whispers.

Castiel nods, smiling at him tiredly. "I won't stray much from you tonight."

Dean cups Castiel's cheek and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Me neither."

They roll Jack closer to his sister and squeeze into the tight space that the kids leave them.

Dean snuggles against Castiel's back and breathes in his husband's scent. "I love you, sweetheart."

Castiel weaves their fingers together and presses them over his heart. "I know," he says, tears audible in his voice. "I thought I'd never hear you saying it again."

"I will. For the rest of our lives," Dean promises.

Castiel squeezes his hand. "I love you, too. Welcome home, Dean."

Dean presses his chest even closer to Castiel's back. If his husband feels the tears wetting his hair, he doesn't comment on it. Dean isn't much of a crier. Or maybe there are still things he doesn't remember about himself. But these are problems for another day. Dean's eyes close, and he falls asleep where he belongs.

~~~~~

This story will become a multi-chapter fic with how they got together, Castiel's side of the story, and what happens after. If you don't wanna miss it, drop a comment and I'm happy to share the link when I start posting.

~~~~~

Thank you for reading. 💙💚 Check out my stuff on ao3.

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slimeypuppy · 2 years

Note

Could you do a follow up to the RomeLukas storyline where Lukas got injured? I would love to see Roman's reaction in the aftermath ( maybe even the cliche of falling asleep next to Lukas's bed cause he was worried)

Can we get a continuation to the agent!au Aftermath? Love me some RomanLukas.

I didn't get to Roman next to Lukas' bed- this is more or less just the continuation, and the set up for him to eventually get there. //

Roman doesn't remember most of the ambulance ride, or even the wait for it to arrive and take them to Lukas' friendly. He just suddenly finds them outside the hospital, the paramedics hurriedly taking Lukas' gurney out of the back of the ambulance and ushering him inside, the blood on the sheets catching the bright fluorescent lights in the commotion. Just like that, they've taken Lukas away. Roman stumbles out himself after them, feet uncertain beneath him, toward the entrance to the emergency room.

A nurse greets him, broad and tall in a way that makes Roman feel tiny, and steadies him with a hand on his arm that makes Roman's skin crawl. "What's your name, sir?"

"Uh. Um. It's- it's-"

Roman is trying to think. This isn't his friendly, so he needs to figure out if he should use an alias, but his brain isn't working right. All he can think about is Lukas' leg. How much it must have hurt.

"I saw you came in with Lukas. Are you a friend of his?"

"I…" The world spins a little to the side, but the nurse keeps him upright. "Skye. Skye, can you-"

The nurse laughs a little and begins guiding Roman toward a bed, complete with fresh white sheets and the guard railings up on one side. He looks down at his hands, coated in dark ash and bright red oil. It could be Lukas' blood. It could be his own.

"I know you're not Skye. Does he know Lukas is here, or do we need to give him a call?"

Before Roman can figure out an answer to that, a doctor comes hurrying up to them. He stares at her neon pink sneakers rather than her face.

"Mr. Roy," she greets, sounding too chipper and enthusiastic, especially in contrast to the suddenly still nurse beside him. "I'm Dr. Lucy. Lukas let us know to take care of you. Can I see your arm?"

He looks at his hands again. They seem to be shaking, or maybe that's just his vision. After a moment, she simply crouches next to him to put on a white plastic hospital bracelet anyways. His birthday isn't on it. Neither is his real name. It just says "Roy, Puppy" in black text above a barcode. Normally, this would probably piss him off, but he can't get his brain working long enough to be upset about it.

"I want to see Lukas," he says.

Roman isn't sure why he said it. He isn't sure if he even wants to see Lukas. He mostly wants to lay down on the hospital bed and sleep, but he's not stupid enough to indulge in the craving. Despite the assumptions of many, he knows when he's been incapacitated. Roman is most definitely suffering from a concussion, and probably some other injuries he has yet to notice, but his brain is too slow to care quite yet.

"Why don't we get you checked out first?" Dr. Lucy says. "I hear you were in an explosion today."

"I don't…"

She doesn't wait for him to finish. "It's alright. We're gonna get you scheduled for a CT to make sure you're alright. Did you lose consciousness when you hurt your head?"

Roman pauses. He goes to feel his head for an injury, his hand finding wet, matted hair and the pain he's ignored until a touch reawakens it. He doesn't remember hitting his head, although that makes sense.

"I think so," he manages. "I- I um, when I woke up, Skye…?"

"Okay," Dr. Lucy acknowledges. "I can tell you're a little disoriented. Is there anyone we need to call? Lukas didn't tell us much."

"Ken. Is- is Ken okay?"

"Who's Ken, Mr. Roy?"

"He's asking about his brother."

Roman looks up in time to see Skye limping toward them. Had he been limping before? It's hard to recall. It's only now that Roman is starting to think again, and it isn't as if he's doing his finest work at the moment. Skye stops next to his bed and nudges Roman's shoulder, bringing to light a new pain there, also previously unnoticed.

"This is Roman, Luke's current favorite toy," Skye introduces. "Kendall is fine, so calm down. I'm taking you to see Lukas, get up."

He grabs Roman's arm and pulls him roughly to his feet, despite Dr. Lucy's protests. "Mr. Taylor, we really do need to check him out. With the head injury, and we aren't sure if there's any other in-"

"He'll be fine with me," Skye interrupts. "He's a big kid, sweetheart. Roman, let's go."

Skye walks them through the emergency room, toward a line of elevators and up a couple floors. No one stops them, and Skye knows the key codes for every single door. They find their way to a quiet, cold hallway, through a thick set of double doors, and into the observation room of a surgical theater crowded with blue clad doctors and nurses. It takes a moment to identify the patient, as crowded around their body as the surgical team is, but once Roman sees the face his heart stops.

"They've got two surgeries going on at once," Skye says conversationally, almost so casual that Roman wants to slap him. "They're trying to save his leg and stop the bleeding in his abdomen."

Roman hones his gaze in on the shrapnel in a metal pan next to the surgical tools. It had been sticking out of Lukas at one point. Skye's hands settle on his shoulders to jerk him out of his meager thoughts and pull his back flush to the firm, sweat damp chest that he's been crushed against now three times.

"Look at him. You need to see him."

There's more blood than Roman ever realized a person had. He knows the number of how many liters comprise a body, but it's nothing like seeing all of it spilled across blue gloves and gowns.

"Stay awake. Lukas would love it if he knew you were here right now. He'll be so happy to hear it. It's a beautiful, intimate thing, Roman, to look at the inside of a man."

Roman isn’t so sure, but he can tell from the grip Skye has on his arm that he won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

#agent!au #roman roy #emwrite

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