Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice.
Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can.
Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there.
It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.
Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically.
It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood.
He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie.
“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?”
“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.
“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.”
“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.
“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty.
“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-”
“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-”
“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles.
“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word.
Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.
“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.”
And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home.
The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!
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Uhm, possible spoilers i think for Marble Sky [made by @somerandomdudelmao in which you should go and check out if you haven’t read rn cause they be very cool very cool and very cool]
but—OMG I LOVE THIS BIRB AUUUHGHGHHGUGHUHURHUEHGI—
IN WHICH THEY ARE PERFECTLY FINE AND WE SEE SO SO MUCH OF THEM NYYYGUUH—
Guys guys guys — please trust meee she is A-OK and she is gonna be a teacher to Oscar as they make a pacifist alien befriending club
I am not in denial i have no clue what you’re talking about—
I ain’t got a clue what these so called ‘jars’ even look like yet but i sketched a thing out immediately and then at that point my intrigueness started to fade, and then the ref came out and for some reason that boosted my interest even further. But i know what a bird’s brain looks like now so thats something.
I just think she seems very cool
I may have also did some other doodles a week or 2 ago that i didn’t post cause the social of anxiety was kickin in high those days but I’ll put them under the cut if thou wishes to see
That is all ok buh byyeeee go see marble skiessssss
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but this touya 🥺 he's sitting at the kitchen table too early in the morning, awake because your ex-boyfriend is coming to pick up your daughter for their father's day out. touya is half-asleep in his cheerios, only grunting out a response when your daughter asks him questions, bright and cheery, laughing too loud when she pokes and prods him and he grabs her hands up in his own and tickles her.
when the doorbell rings, she's scooping up her backpack and unzipping it quickly, slapping a folded up piece of paper on the table before running off around the corner. you follow her, exchange some pleasantries with her dad, wish him a happy father's day, give your daughter a hug and tell her you'll see her in a few days.
she stands in the doorway and shouts, loud, the high pitch in her voice echoing off the ceiling. "bye dabi!" and when he says it in return, she ends with, "i love you!"
(you don't miss the twist of your ex-boyfriends lips, his clear disaste for touya souring his expression.)
(you don't miss touya's hesitant pause from the kitchen, his voice scratchy and low when he calls back, "love you, too, kid.")
after she's gone, you mosey on back to the kitchen to see him leaning over whatever she'd left him; a piece of construction paper, colorful and a bit messy and crinkled, but all her nonetheless.
it's a picture of she and touya as little stick figures, him much too tall, hair dark and spiky. in between them, you think, is a drum-set, a call-back to the time he'd brought her to the bar he works at before it opened, during the day, and he'd let her bang around on all the instruments and be as loud as she'd wanted.
happy fathers day i love you is written across the top in bright pink, a little hard to read, but there regardless. touya stares at it quietly, only coming back to life after you run a hand over his back gently.
"mom's gonna lose it when she sees this," he murmurs quietly, shaking his head as if the idea is ridiculous.
but you don't miss his quiet sniff, the way he clears his throat before carefully folding the paper back into place, keeping it held tightly in his fist.
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