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king-zacharyy · 3 months

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Part 1 (Here) Part 2

EDIT: I fixed some spelling/grammar errors and added some things to a couple areas.

TW: Injury, hospitals, surgery mentions

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"Four chimes. Max."

Nancy had barely finished speaking before Steve was out the door of the Creel house, sprinting back the way they came. He wove through the forest on muscle memory alone, a resurgence of adrenaline fueling his exhausted, wounded body.

The pain and lightheadedness faded away under the constant stream of Max Max Max because that's his kid. His kid, who he let get put in danger. His kid, who he wasn't there to protect, and she has to be okay. She has to be.

Because they had plans for a concert in summer that he had spent months saving up for just for her. And she has to be okay, because if she isn't, he doesn't know what he'll do with himself. He doesn't know how he could possibly live without one of his kids. Without Max. Without his little sister. Without Max.

The sound of loud, gut wrenching, sobs and screams cut through his thoughts, and he stuttered to a stop. Dustin. He bolted in the direction of the sound, absent-mindedly stepping over the demobats littering the ground, motionless.

In the center of the bats, sat Dustin, hunched over a motionless form, his shoulders shaking with the sobs that were much louder now that he was closer.

Steve's shoulders drooped at the sight of Dustin alive before his brain registered who Dustin was slumped over and the state he was in, and he had to bite back a sob of his own. Because there lay Eddie Munson in a pool of his own blood. Munson, who clearly pulled some hero shit, and damn it, Eddie, I told you not to be a hero!

Steve slid in front of Dustin, causing the boy to look up. "Steve! Steve, you have to help him! Eddie, he– he cut the rope– and– and—" Dustin's voice trailed off into sobs again, and Steve sprung into action.

"Dustin, you gotta move. I'm gonna help him, but I need you to move." The curly haired boy nodded, hiccuping, and moved out from under Eddie.

Steve was quick to check his pulse, finding a faint, but very much there, thump thump thump. Steve ripped off his jacket and tied it around the wounds on Munson's side. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he hefted Eddie into a bridal carry and stood.

When he turned, he was met with Nancy's determined face. "Dustin said Munson cut the rope, so I won't be able to get him through there. I want you to take Dustin back through the gate in the trailer and call for an ambulance to Fred's gate. After that, go pick up the kids. Robin, you're with me. Meet us at the hospital."

His tone brokered no arguments as they set off in the direction of the highway, his thoughts a constant stream of Eddie Eddie Eddie and Max Max Max.

The next moments were a blur of movement and sound as they got Eddie and themselves through the gate and into the ambulance once it got there.

They rode in the ambulance with Eddie, Steve making sure the paramedics were doing their job. As soon as they got to Hawkins General, Eddie was taken into surgery, and Steve and Robin were alone in the parking lot.

As they entered the lobby, they were met with chaos. He wove his way through the crowd of people seeking treatment or waiting for loved ones and went to the reception desk, Robin following closely behind him.

"Excuse me, was a Max– um Maxine Mayfield admitted recently?" He asked the nurse there, body thruming with anxiety. She clacked away on her computer for a minute before turning to him.

"There was. Are you family? I'm afraid I can't give any more information unless you are."

"I am. I'm her brother? Please, we got separated, and all I know is she got hurt. Is she– is she okay?"

Pity swirled in her eyes, and he tried not to snap. She glanced back at her computer, reading something before answering, "She's in surgery right now, I'm sorry, I don't know much beyond that."

He nodded shakily, stepping back from the counter. He stumbled as the adrenaline faded. His vision blurred, he felt lightheaded, and his sides burned.

"Steve? Steve!" Robin shouting was the last thing he heard before he collapsed, and his world went black.

●●●●●

"Scoops! I work for Scoops!" He thought he escaped. Why was he back in the base? His head felt light and floaty, so they must've drugged him again. Robin. Where's Robin?

"Steve! Calm down! You're in the hospital. We're not in the base. We got out. I'm right here. Breathe, dingus. You're okay. I'm okay."

Slowly, Steve's breathing evened out, and his vision cleared. He took in the white walls around him and sagged against the bed. White, not steel gray. He glanced to his right, where Robin was sitting, gripping his hand, and he relaxed fully.

The memories of the last week rushed back, and he fought the panic that threatened to rise. Robbie squeezed his hand, reading his mind, and said, "You collapsed because of your wounds and had to be rushed into surgery. You've got some damage to your throat from being strangled, and your bat bites got a minor infection. Your back is also raw and had some cuts on it. The doctor said you'll have a lot of scars, and you'll likely need some physical therapy to rebuild the muscle the bats took, but you should be okay. Don't ever scare me like that again, though, Dingus."

He squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. "Max is.. She's hurt pretty bad. She has a broken arm, both of her legs are broken, and her eyes took a hit. They're not sure if she'll ever walk again, and they have to wait until she wakes up to know if she'll be able to see, but they're hopeful. She's in a medically induced coma so she can heal.

Eddie got here just in time. He lost a lot of blood and needed several transfusions, but he's alive. He'll probably need physical therapy, and he'll scar, but he's gonna be fine."

Steve practically collapsed in relief. They were okay. Hurt, but alive. He squeezed her hand in silent thanks, a question in his eyes when he looked at her.

How is everyone else?

"Everyone else has minor injuries. Erica has some scrapes and bruises from Andy tackling her, and Lucas had to get some stitches because of Jason. Apparently, they attacked the kids, and Jason went all pitchforks and torches on Lucas. Max's Walkman broke in the scuffle, and that's why she got all hurt."

Steve had to breathe for a minute to stave of the murderous rage he felt and the sudden and all-consuming urge to kill the bastards who dare lay a finger on his kids.

"Down, boy. Jason got killed when the gates split open, and Andy is currently in custody. And before you ask, the gates closed pretty soon after they nearly split the town open. We don't know how or why, but they're closed.

Back on the topic of everyone's health, Dustin got a sprained ankle when he went back through the gate after Eddie cut the rope, so he's got an ankle boot for that, but he'll be fine. Nancy and I are okay. The only injuries we got were from the vines choking us, but there was no lasting damage."

He nodded, opening his mouth to talk, barely getting a word out before he's thrown into a coughing fit. Robin handed him a cup of cold water, and he was quick to gulp it down.

"Try not to talk. Like I said, you've got a bit of damage to your throat, so it's gonna hurt to talk for a little."

He nodded again and mimed writing. She grabbed a legal pad and a pen that sat on the table by the bed and handed it over.

'Any word from the Byers?'

"Yeah, Jonathan was able to get into contact a few hours ago. He said they were on their way back to Hawkins and would explain what happened on their end when they got here."

'How long have I been out?'

"About a day. Your surgery lasted for a few hours, and then you were in and out of consciousness a couple of times after the anesthesia wore off."

'Why was everything chaos when we got here yesterday?'

"When the gates initially opened, it caused a pretty massive earthquake, and a lot of people got injured. Now, enough questions. You still need rest. When you wake up next, I'll see if I can convince a nurse to let you see Max. Sleep, everyone will still be here when you wake up, and I'm not gonna leave your side."

With that last bit of reassurance, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Part 2

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This was mostly an excuse to write Steve passing out from his injuries in Season four and some Steve and Max sibling-ism!

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the-littlest-lunars · 8 months

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Lumpkin was a very good boy and helped keep us calm before surgery. The nurses gave him compliments for being so cute!

He was very worried and happy to see us afterwards. All the pets and cuddles for the best boi.

#tw: IV #tw: hospital #tw: surgery #hospitalcore #medicalcore #plush: Lumpkin/Lump #syskid #stuffie #plushcore #plushie #plushblr

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livwritesstuff · 2 months

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So you know how parents always have that *one* story about a time where their kid scared them beyond this universe — like their kid could be a daredevil and constantly trying their patience but this particular story is the most harrowing, scariest situation they’ve been in. (This may not be universal but I’m hoping I’m explaining it right lol)

What do you think would be Steve and Ed’s stories for each of the girls?

tw: hospitals, illness, car accidents, in general proceed w/caution if sensitive to children sustaining injuries/illnesses

When Moe was about six months old, she got sick – really sick, hospital-trip sick. All Steve really remembers is that one minute her appetite wasn’t what it usually was, and the next her temperature had spiked to 104 and something about her breathing was not normal and they were on their way to the ER.

They'd ended up staying for three days, Steve didn't sleep the entire time, and because it was before Moe's adoption was finalized, they had all kinds of DFS paperwork to fill out in addition to the mountain of documents the hospital had given them. Steve remembers having to coordinate with Ed dropping everything off at the DFS office and thinking for the first time ever in their years of fostering kids how stupid it was that he was expected to focus on following DFS procedure instead of being there for his baby girl.

The scariest moment with Hazel was the time they lost her.

They’d been at the New England Aquarium with all three girls on a Saturday afternoon – ridiculous, in both Steve and Eddie's opinion, and honestly they weren't even able to enjoy outings like these because they’re still in the stage where they spend the entire time anxiously keeping track of the girls (who were having the time of their lives, obviously – that's why they're suffering through it).

So when Steve did a headcount like he usually does every so often and came up with two, his heart flipped over. He checked again, and again only counted two.

Triple-checks. Two.

In real-time, they hadn't lost sight of Hazel for more than ten seconds, but it was the longest ten seconds Steve had ever lived by a mile, and he’d spent the whole time thinking that it had to be the worst-case for a situation like this because it was Hazel. If Moe or Robbie got separated from them, they would have no problem marching up to the first person in an NEA shirt they could find and demanding help finding their dads. Hazel, though, is quiet and shy and usually stuck to them like glue. She won’t talk to strangers in the best of moments, so there was no chance she’d find it in herself to try during a bad one.

Turns out, Hazel had been so mesmerized by the jellyfish that even after they all moved on to the next display, Hazel just had to turn back to get one more look, and Eddie had his head screwed on tight enough that day to think of checking there first.

Later, Steve reneged on their plan to take the girls to Boston Pride (which would have been in a few weeks) because it had been scary enough losing track of Hazel in an enclosed space where there were only so many places she could wander off to. The idea of it happening in the dead center of the city, with all those crowds of people, with infinite directions for her to go…no chance. They’d try again next year.

Between all three girls, the scariest moment by goddamn lightyears was Robbie.

When Robbie was fifteen – a high school freshman but placed in the senior-level band class – the school took their music classes (band, orchestra, chorus) to Disney World for the performing arts workshops they offer in the spring.

The student-adult ratio on trips like these is pretty terrible and, in Steve's opinion, there is too much unsupervised independent time for a group of high school students.

Way too much.

A few days into the trip, one kid – a senior with a fake ID who Robbie was friends with through band – managed to commandeer a car and convince a group of kids to blow off curfew and secretly explore the city.

Three hours and half a liquor-store’s worth of alcohol later, Steve got a call from one of the chaperones telling him that his fifteen-year-old was unresponsive in a hospital in Florida.

Planning their last family vacation had taken three entire months of planning and indecision and research.

It took less than five minutes for Steve to get flights booked for the next plane bound for Orlando.

“Maybe if she hadn’t gone on the trip in the first place…” Moe trailed off innocently as she watched her dads pack – she's anything but innocent though. Moe had been pissed to all hell that Robbie got to go to Disney World and she didn’t. She’d spent weeks trying to weasel her way onto the trip to no avail, and she’d been sulking the entire four days Robbie had been gone.

“Not another word,” Eddie warned her, his tone icier than perhaps he’s ever heard directed at one of his kids. Moe opens her mouth to retort, but he cuts her off, "So fuckin' serious, Moe. Not the time."

Robbie had been in pretty rough shape when they finally arrived which was horrible to see – especially for Steve, who had always connected the way Robbie was similar to Eddie with the way Eddie almost died, so seeing her unconscious in a hospital bed, light brown curls strewn out over the sterile-white sheets and tangled amongst all kinds of tubes and wires was pretty much a nightmare come to life.

He was actually thankful for Eddie’s threats to find the idiot driving the car and murder him because he seemed pretty serious about it and making sure he didn't do that gave Steve something to focus on other than counting the hours Robbie had been in the hospital all alone.

#not a happy one folks #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: illness #tw: car accident #tw: hospital

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nicohischierz · 8 months

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icy roads: mark estapa

warnings: car crash, hospitals and flatlining

tagging: @ivy-34, @hzstry8, @francesfarhadi, @cixrosie, @heartz4hisch, @trevs-swiftie, text me or fill the form if you want to join the taglist!!

you were making your way up to michigan to see your brothers tyler and dylan.

it became custom when you and dylan joined university that you'd visit each other whenever possible. you were the one who did most of the driving considering his hectic game schedule.

so this weekend was no different.

you finished classes early and it was just in time for a long weekend. so you packed all your things in your car for the three hour drive ahead of you.

"hey dyl, i'm just getting started on the journey. i should get to aa around like the afternoon," you left your brother a message.

you then facetimed your boyfriend. the michigan native answered his phone immediately.

"hi gorgeous," he answered, moving into his room and locking the door.

"hi marky, i was trying to get through to dyl but he’s not answering,” you explained.

“yeah, we were playing a game of monopoly and your brothers got into a fight about rent or something,” mark drawled on.

you rolled your eyes at your brothers childish antiques. mark chuckled at your expression before he fell on his bed.

“you’re staying with duker right?” he asked.

you shrugged “i hope so, i don’t feel like sleeping in a dorm again,”

your conversation was cut short when someone entered marks room. “yo stop sign, we’re gonna grab something to eat before y/n gets here,” ethan called out.

“oh hey y/n, how’s the drive?” he asked once he spotted you in the phone.

“it’s going great eddy. except for the fact that i am almost out of gas now and i need food,” you complained.

you had spoken to mark for over an hour of your journey. how he managed to stay away from the boys that long was beyond you but it helped with the boring journey.

“you fill your tank and i’ll see you when you get here,” mark wished you goodbye and sent you a kiss before ending the call.

as you headed into the station and grabbed some snacks, you texted your brothers your eta and thanked the cashier before walking out, sour patch kids in hand.

the roads were getting more slippery as you approached ann arbor causing you to slow down just a little.

it all happened so fast.

you were taking a bend when your car slide off the road, driving off road into a tree.

the impact of the car caused you to hit your head on the dashboard. you were knocked out immediately not hearing the shouts asking if you were alright.

meanwhile, back in michigan your brothers were wondering where you were. “wait when you checked her location last where was she?” dylan asked.

tyler pulled his phone out and check find my iphone “she was at this exact spot dude, i swear to you,” he explained.

now that got all the boys worried.

so ethan, mark, tyler and dylan all piled into a car and drove to your location.

“dude, why are there so many police cars?” ethan asked.

his question was answered when the boys pulled up to the side, tyler noticed his sisters license plate and her sticker saying ‘osu mum’.

the younger duke brother made a dash towards his sisters car. dylan followed after with mark.

“woah. woah, you guys can’t be here,” a cop told the three boys.

“no, sir that’s my sister,” dylan explained. tyler had tears coming out of his eyes as he watched his sister be pulled out of on a stretcher.

the cops face softened as he ushered the two brothers to follow him. “you guys get in the ambulance, your friends can follow and i’ll be there soon okay,” he explained.

tyler and dylan wasted no time climbing into the back of the ambulance. mark headed back to the car, his hands shaking.

ethan was quick to notice and strapped him into the passenger seat. “mark, she’s going to be okay. it’s y/n she’s going to pull through,” he reassured his friend.

ethan and mark called the rest of the group telling them what happened and they didn’t even stop for a second before they headed towards the hospital.

ethan and mark met tyler and dylan in the waiting room.

"they took her to do some scans. they say say it's not anything major but umm, they want to make sure there isn't any like internal bleeding or anything," tyler mumbled.

mark wrapped the younger duke brother in a hug. he knew how close you and tyler were so he took it upon himself to look after the boy.

it was pretty soon after that the rest of the michigan boys showed up. tyler had texted some of your friends from osu telling them what happened as they blew up your phone.

the cop who brought the boys to the hospital handed dylan and tyler your suitcase and waited with the brothers and their friends.

it was quiet in the hospital as the doctors finished doing some checks on you before letting dylan and tyler in. your parents were trying to find the fastest way to see you guys but till they came it was your brothers that took care of everything.

but by some unfortunate luck, when dylan and tyler had finally been allowed to see you, your ecg started beeping like crazy. the two brothers watched as nurses and doctors flocked into your room pushing the two out.

mark rushed over to your room to see what was happening and watched as your once steady heartbeat went flat. tyler was crying hysterically as rutger and frank tried comforting their friend.

ethan held onto dylan, the older boy trying to maintain a strong face for his younger brother.

but mark couldn't handle it. his chest felt tight and he felt like he couldn't breathe. his ears were ringing and the only thing he wanted was to be in your arms.

"kiddo are you okay?" the cop asked.

the question brought everyone's attention towards mark. the michigan native clutched onto his chest as he looked dylan in the eyes.

the look was all dylan needed to know.

dylan wanted to scream at his teammate. how could mark go against the one unspoken law they had all agreed on. don't date your friends sister.

tyler hadn't caught on yet. but as he was about to ask his brother what was wrong a nurse came out of your room.

"are you guys y/n dukes family?" she asked.

the boys all nodded, forgetting the moment of tension.

"she's going to be alright. it seems that she was waking up and her tracker slipped," she explained.

tyler wanted to go in and see his sister but the nurse added "is there a boy named mark here. she was asking for him earlier,"

mark stepped forward and followed after the nurse. but before he went in, he grabbed onto tyler’s arm and pulled him along.

“i know she’d want to see you too,” he whispered

#mark estapa imagine #umich imagines #nicohischierz writes #tw: car crash #tw: hospital

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mystery-pixels · 11 months

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waiting and waiting

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 screenshots #liminal spaces #at least i hope #tw: hospital #hospital tw #sims 3 build #ts3 build #ts3 hospital #sims 3 hospital

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idontknowreallywhy · 3 months

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5 - Essence

I did it! I finished a fic!

*makes note in calendar for this is a day to be MARKED*

Never mind that I already have a spin-off idea… this is complete. And, I’m actually really proud of it. There are clumsy parts, I can always see things I want to improve but I think the ideas are good and I like it.

Hope those who’ve enjoyed the previous chapters think I’ve done this part of Scotty and Virgil’s story justice. And will forgive how viciously I’ve tortured a metaphor…

Presence, Absence, Divulgence, Patience…

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Virgil and Scotty’s plan was simple. 726 meant 7th floor. His room was 625. So he just needed to get up one floor and along a room… unless the numbering was haphazardly allocated. But it probably would be fine.

They slipped out of the door and hurried away from the ruckus happening elsewhere on the psych ward. Virgil took a moment to wish whoever it was improved health very soon. They turned the corner. Well, Virgil did, Scott cut through the corner just to show off. Then they were out of sight and could breathe for a moment. Virgil clutched the pillow he’d brought in one hand and the waistband of the undignified pyjama pants in the other. Which meant no hand free to hold Scotty’s but he was in the lead and half way down the corridor anyway. So Virgil followed.

They’d get caught on the main stairs or in the lift so they were going to use the fire escape.

Scott hung back as they approached the door and let Virgil do the honours of leaning on the bar to open it. He jumped in horror as alarms blared and he clutched the pillow to one ear while trying to block the other with his shoulder, waistband still clutched with a white knuckled grip. Scotty gave him a meaningful look so he swallowed hard and leapt out on to the metal staircase. They were… a long way from the ground. As his brother had suggested, he dropped the pillow over the edge and watched it fall and land in a hedge. Then he tiptoed as quickly as he could up one floor and crouched by the door… hopefully nobody would look up. He closed his eyes and tried to tune out the harsh clanging noise which seemed to be trying to split his brain into two. The scent of cut grass and sun baked concrete was overwhelming after the antibacterial monotony of the hospital ward.

It worked like a dream. Three people came rushing out on to the stairway, one spotted the gleam of white below and they thundered down and down and down the stairs, the vibrations making Virgil’s teeth rattle. He hardly dared breathe. Scott however, refused to be stealthy and was standing on the railing doing a ridiculous victory dance. Virgil hissed at him to get down. He knew Scott wouldn’t fall, his balance was borderline superhuman, but it would be bad if he was seen.

Right, he had made it this far and still had his pants. Now to get on to level seven.

This part did not go to plan. They had forgotten… the fire doors only opened from the inside. Scott facepalmed in despair and Virgil told his brother not to blame himself… he hadn’t thought of it either. Ok. Take stock and work the solution.

The door wouldn’t give a millimetre. Scotty suggested smashing it with a rock but the rocks were seven storeys down along with the people he could still hear hunting them. Virgil looked around desperately. The window to the room nearest the fire escape was cracked open. It would have to do.

Scotty took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye, smiling encouragingly. Virgil felt encouragement was all very well but how was he going to climb over there with one hand unavailable? He didn’t want to risk falling to his death without his trousers either. Scott suggested maybe if he’d got more rescue scout badges he’d be able to fix them. Virgil scowled at the familiar dig because he’d spent more time on music than tying knots and whatever.. but it did give him an idea. Mr Made-it-all-the-way-to-Falcon didn’t seem willing to part with his belt, so Virgil tore a strip off his pyjama top and bunched the waistband tight, tying the excess fabric together. Then cautiously let go. It held.

Alright.

He did feel a little wobbly as he climbed over the railing but hoped that was just a natural reaction to the horrifying drop below him rather than any lingering effects of the sedatives. Scott gave him two thumbs up then rubbed the back of his neck as he frowned over at the window. Virgil hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts because he couldn’t do this by himself. He hooked a foot around the railings behind him and feigned a confidence he didn’t have to bolster his brother by letting himself tip forward until his hands caught the windowsill. Ok. He pulled at the window to open it more and froze in horror.

It was a hospital. Of course every window would have a limiter on it to restrict how far it opened. So people couldn’t climb out.

Or in.

He looked back at Scotty who was in full pacing SmotherHen mode. Virgil could just ask his brother to pull him back and they could come up with another plan but found he didn’t want to give up yet. Resolutely not looking down he kept a firm grip on the windowsill with one hand and slipped the other into the gap, feeling for the mechanism that was causing all the trouble. There was a screw. He put all of his strength into forcing it loose, fortunately the fine motor control seemed to have returned along with his strength. He grunted with the effort then bit his lip. It wouldn’t do for someone to hear him now.

It moved! Then it spun and came off in his hand. He let it clatter to the floor, too late for stealth now, and pushed the window open wide. Thankful for the years working on his upper body strength he heaved himself through the window and slithered to the floor, landing with a thud and his trousers round his knees. His face burned and he scrabbled to make himself decent, looking in panic around the room for anyone who might have seen but… the room was empty. He sighed in relief and got to his feet.

This room smelled different. It was a different kind of empty to the ward he’d been on. The sort of empty that had recently been full then emptied suddenly but not yet scrubbed clean. Maybe the occupant had gone home. He hoped the occupant had gone home. Virgil stood there, a little lost all of a sudden, wondering whether he and Scotty would both get to go home one day.

Scotty squeezed his shoulder. That meant he was proud. Virgil glowed. It had been a pretty awesome stunt all things considered. They were a great team. And they were nearly there.

He opened the door slowly, silently and peered out. All was quiet. He started moving stealthily to the next room, but had to turn back to shush Scotty who was whistling nonchalantly. He’d get them caught! And worse, it was horribly off key. Virgil was sure he did it on purpose to annoy him.

The next room said 726! This was the one! He went to high-five Scotty and over-balanced slightly as his childish brother moved his hand away just in time. He really was an idiot. But he was Virgil’s favourite idiot so it was good he was here. He looked around one last time then tried the handle and pushed open the door.

And froze.

He’d got it wrong… must have misheard the number. This was some old guy’s room. The stench of antiseptic and panic was strong in here. Virgil clenched his fists in frustration and turned away. He’d just have to check every single room in the place. He knew his brother was here somewhere and he wasn’t sure when the chance to sneak away would come again.

He took three steps then froze as his brain caught up with the information his eyes had sent through moments before: Dad’s jacket was hanging on the back of the chair next to the bed.

Huh?

He shuffled back and looked again. Maybe just a similar jacket? A foot was sticking out from the bottom of the sheets, the man was tall like Scott, but it was thin and frail. This guy was about 80 and had a beard and looked… done. Poor guy.

He glanced at the name card that had been inserted into the slot at the foot of the bed.

Tracy, Scott Carpenter

His heart soared and plummeted within a single breathless moment. It must be a mistake… everything was wrong. The little of this body not padded by bandages was skeletal, ancient-looking. Where there should be strong warm hands were wires and splints and the darkness of bruising. The man’s cheekbones were like knives, below deeply shadowed eye sockets in which reddened eyelids flickered. Sweat beaded his face. The little hair visible beneath the dressings on his head was too long, the beard too… beardy. The click and whirr of the machine breathing for the stranger was alien. The heart rate monitor was agonisingly arrhythmic and definitely too fast. His brother’s pulse was always steady - Virgil had felt it many times through a tightly gripped wrist as they stood somewhere way too high and Virgil’s own heart raced in anticipation of the next crazy stunt. Or through a gentle thumb in a handhold when he was nervous. Or best of all ear to chest when surrounded by his brother’s arms.

There was a familiarity but… no. This wasn’t his brother. It couldn’t be.

He looked up at Scotty who smiled at him sadly and tilted his head towards the haggard face on the pillow. Virgil crept closer and slipped into the chair to study it. The ears were the same, except a little swelling behind and even more bruising. He couldn’t even start to think about any human could get into this state, let alone…

Virgil’s eyes dropped to the faint white scar on the bottom of the man’s jaw, just to the side of his chin. The relic of an old misadventure, barely visible under the patchwork of red and black and purple, but instantly recognisable to the boy who’d tried to tape it together with sticking plasters. If they’d owned up and his brother had got the stitches he needed at the time, it would never have scarred. But, as with so many things, those blue eyes had pleaded with him and he’d done his best to help.

He looked back over his shoulder to where Scotty had been standing guard, seeking his reassurance.

But he was gone.

He turned back to Scotty in the bed, heart torn into shreds by his inability to help this time. This was beyond sticking plasters and hugs and promises not to tell. His head swam and the other words that voice had said to his father, the ones he had refused to acknowledge or understand, came floating to the surface. The possibility Scott might not…

No. Not while Virgil still had blood in his veins. They were together now and everything would be alright.

He reached out a tentative finger and stroked the one small area of cheek that wasn’t obviously injured and then rested his head gently on the pillow alongside his brother’s, close enough that his face brushed the side of Scott’s but not so close he might cause painful pressure. Little brother inhaled deeply through his nose, seeking a semblance of calm to counter the fear rising in his chest and then held his breath, hardly daring to believe. Hiding behind the antiseptic and the plastic and the soap and the hollow cleanliness of it all, something was filling the emptiness. A faint melody, unique, as familiar as his own. A music that meant safety, and that he wasn’t alone. A music that meant home.

The constant erratic beeping noise slowed, almost imperceptibly, and fell into a steady rhythm.

A brand new score had been opened. But Virgil knew the notes now. They’d compose this next version together.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #scott tracy #virgil tracy #Tw: mental health #Tw: hospital #Tw: war #Presence fic

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promptful · 1 year

Note

can you do some injury/hurt/hospital/etc prompts?

80 Injury Dialogue Prompts

you got it :) warnings: hospital, injuries, violence, blood, all that kinds of stuff.

1) “That doesn’t look good.”

2) “Oh God, are you okay?”

3) “Breathe with me.”

4) “Deep breaths.”

5) “Don’t look down.”

6) “How many fingers am I holding up?”

7) “Does your head hurt?”

8) “Don’t fall asleep.”

9) “What happened?”

10) “I’m calling an ambulance.”

11) “Keep pressure on that.”

12) “Talk to me, and don’t stop.”

13) “Where does it hurt?”

14) “Can you tell me where we are?”

15) “What can I do for you?”

16) “Here—painkillers, take them.”

17) “Prop your feet up.”

18) “Let me get you an ice pack.”

19) “Lean on me.”

20) “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

21) “This may hurt.”

22) “Die on me, and I’ll kill you.”

23) “Were you [shot]?!”

24) “That’s… a lot of blood.”

25) “How are you still conscious?”

26) “You’ve been out for a few days.”

27) “God, you scared me.”

28) “Don’t do that again.”

29) “Call for backup next time, okay?”

30) “You can fall asleep, it’s okay.”

31) “We’re in the hospital.”

32) “Everything is going to be all right.”

33) “Hey, just got a call. They’re in the hospital.”

34) “How fast can you make it down here?”

35) “I’m going to wrap this.”

36) “This may sting.”

37) “Bite down.”

38) “How about I get you a change of clothing?”

39) “Close your eyes.”

40) “They’re hurt over here!”

41) “I need help!”

42) “Please, help them.”

43) “Squeeze my hand.”

44) “I won’t leave you, I promise.”

45) “I don’t feel good.”

46) “Where are we?” 47) “Why are you stained with blood?”

48) “I need to get out of here.”

49) “I’m trapped.”

50) “Help me up, please.”

51) “I can’t walk.”

52) “My leg…”

53) “I don’t think… bones are supposed to bend like that.”

54) “I can’t sleep. Haven’t been able to sleep since what happened.”

55) “I feel twitchy. Can’t stand being on bed rest.”

56) “You’re not working until you feel better, do you understand?”

57) “Little steps. You’re doing great.”

58) “Follow my finger.”

59) “I hate the hospital.”

60) “Stay tonight.” “I don’t think they’ll let me.” “I’ll make them.”

61) “I’m a mess.” “You’re beautiful, actually.”

62) “...” “People slip all the time, you know.”

63) “I told you to wear a helmet.”

64) “Don’t get yourself killed out there.”

65) “What happens if you don’t make it back?”

66) “Stay still, I’m coming down!”

67) “How do you want me to carry you? Bridal style?” “Whatever hurts the least.”

68) “I’ll turn off the lights, why don’t you just lay down?”

69) “Can I run you a hot bath?”

70) “Everything is just… pain.”

71) “I’m going to sleep for a year.” “I don’t blame you.”

72) “All these machines, how does anybody catch a wink of shuteye?”

73) “Ready to go home?”

74) “Step up. Gentle, now.”

75) “It’s going to take a while, but you’re going to be okay, you know?”

76) “Do you know CPR?”

77) “They haven’t come up for air, yet.” “Shit.”

78) “What the hell can I do but pray?”

79) “Come back to me.”

80) “Where are they?!”

#dialogue #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #dialogue prompts #dialogue starters #whump #whump prompts #whump dialogue #tw: blood #tw: hospital #tw: violence #otp prompts #starters #sentence starters

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imagining-supernatural · 6 months

Text

Tomorrow

Summary: Just angst and depression, bruh. Remember, I let you guys vote for either this fic or the fluffy one and... well...

Platonic!Reader & Dean & Sam

Word Count: 1583

TW: Hospitals, ed, cancer, avoidance

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“That was the hospital,” Sam said once he hung up. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Dean with tired eyes. “Y/N’s there again.”

It hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise. “What happened?”

“She collapsed. They’re running tests now to see why.”

Y/N had been getting worse for months now. She hid it, but after it got to a certain point, to the point where the hospital got involved, she couldn’t hide it any longer. Dean grabbed his jacket and keys. “Let’s go.”

The ride was silent and familiar. It was the third time in as many months. The first time was just to pick her up. Y/N had gone to get a sleeping pill prescription, and the doctors wouldn’t let her get behind the wheel, saying that she would be a danger in her current state. The second time, she’d been so sick that her roommate insisted she go. Sam and Dean had been called because they were still on file from the first time.

And now she collapsed.

If only she would tell them what was going on with her.

*****

“They shouldn’t have called you.” I hated seeing Dean and Sam here. They shouldn’t have to take care of me. I was an adult. I could do this on my own.

Well, theoretically.

The Winchesters shouldn’t have to worry themselves about me. Sure, we grew up together, but that doesn’t mean they need to watch my destruction.

“They said you collapsed,” Dean said, pulling over a chair beside the hospital bed. God, I hated hospital beds. I hated everything about the hospital.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. I use to hate hospitals. Now though, I found a strange sort of comfort.

“I had them remove you as my emergency contacts last time. They shouldn’t have called.”

“Well, they did. Why’d you collapse?”

Why does anything collapse? Governments, buildings, organs… too much pressure.

At my lack of an answer, Sam sighed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re worried about you, Y/N.”

“They shouldn’t have called you,” was all I said. I’m an adult. I don’t need people looking after me. I should be able to do that myself. They could worry about their own problems.

“Why not?”

So far, my favorite part about living on my own was the independence. I could do whatever I liked. Whatever I wished. I just wish people would stop worrying about me because of it. I was on my own, so I should be on my own. I hadn’t talked to either Dean or Sam since the last time I was here. That was a whole month without any Y/N problems hanging off their shoulders. Now the hospital ruined that streak by calling them.

“I took you off my contact list. It’s unprofessional, really. And probably against HIPAA.”

“Why did you take us off your list?” Dean clarified Sam’s question with a sigh. He knew that I’d understood the first time. So he should also know that I wasn’t going to answer this time.

“They said they’re keeping me here overnight. You guys should go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll be fine.”

They shared a look and Sam stood up. “I’ll go find a nurse.”

He shut the door behind him. It was just me and Dean now.

“He’s going to get answers, Y/N. You might has well just tell me why you collapsed.”

Dean was raised right. Sam too. I suppose I was also raised right, but the lessons just didn’t stick for me like it did for them. The three of us. The fearsome threesome. A force to be reckoned with back in high school. Back when life was simpler.

“Have you seen the news? All those hurricanes and earthquakes? Man, I would hate to be there.”

He knew I wasn’t going to give him a real answer, so he just sighed heavily, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes, and slid down the chair until he was comfortable enough. He was going to have to go to the chiropractor if he fell asleep like that.

“Dean, go home. Get some sleep in your bed. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be ready for.”

“Surprised you even know about that,” he mumbled, not moving.

The school sends out weekly emails about all of the events happening on campus I still get them even though I dropped out a month ago. Of course I know about the football games.

I’m not very good at being a real person lately. There’s just too much happening. Too many strings to keep track of. A to-do list that keeps getting longer and longer. More failures that keep piling up in the corner of my closet. I can’t do it all, so some things had to go. Dean and Sam just couldn’t see how much more free they were without me.

I guess they would figure that out soon enough.

“I forgot to eat,” I finally say out loud. It’s not completely the truth. I knew that I had to eat, but I just… didn’t.

Dean peeked at me from under the bill of his hat. “What?”

“That’s why I collapsed. They’re going to give me whatever I need then send me home. That’s it, okay? Nothing to worry about. You guys can go home now.” I closed my eyes, knowing that Dean was going to blow this completely out of proportion. If I had to hear it, I didn’t want to see it too.

“How do you forget to eat?”

It’s a lot of work. You gotta figure out what you want to eat, then see if you have everything to make it, then if you don’t you have to go to the store and spend money and time and be around people. And if your roommate is home, then you run the risk of having to be in the kitchen with her too and small talk is just something that I can’t do. Then, after all that hullabaloo, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t just puke the food up in a few minutes.

It’s just easier to… not.

“Y/N, c’mon, what the hell?”

This would have been so much better if the hospital hadn’t called them. Dean was all about eating right. He cared about his body. It got him his athletic scholarships. It was his future. He was going to be in the NFL. He had to worry about that shit. And Sam? His future was all about being a personal trainer. It was his job to figure out the right way to eat and exercise and all that crap.

I was the brains. Well, I used to be. I used to think I was.

Funny how fast things change.

“Go home, Dean. Take Sam with you. The hospital’s got my back now. You have a game tomorrow.” I settle further into the bed.

“When was the last time you ate?”

The worst part of hospital beds was getting comfortable in them. It was impossible on a good day, but with wire and tubes sticking out of you? It was better to just resign yourself to a very uncomfortable night.

“Y/N.”

“And it’s not just the hurricanes and earthquakes. There was a giant tsunami too. It’s like the earth is trying to tell us that we’re not welcome anymore. Crazy.”

“I don’t care about that right now. Y/N, when did you last eat?”

I was so tired. And all this probably wouldn’t matter in a few weeks anyway. Dean had a game tomorrow. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call security.”

His mouth dropped open. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, so I stared straight ahead at the door instead.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on with you?”

The door opened and Sam returned with a nurse and a doctor. It was never good when the doctor came back in. Especially with a nurse. I addressed them, rather than my friends. “Can you get them out of here, please? I don’t want them here.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea given—”

“Get them out of here!” I yelled suddenly, finding some hidden reservoir of energy to protect my friends from the ugliness that the doctor was about to tell me.

Dean and Sam protested, but they were too nice to fight against the nurse as she pushed them out the door. As soon as they were gone, I slumped back against the pillow.

“It spread, didn’t it?” I asked weakly.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “The tumor in your brain that we found a month ago is growing faster than we thought, and the cancer has spread to your spinal cord.”

It didn’t take ten seasons of Grey’s Anatomy for me to know what that meant. “How long do I have?”

“It’s hard to say, but…” the doctor flipped through a few pages on my chart. It was just a stalling technique. It couldn’t be easy to tell a twenty-two-year-old girl that she was going to die soon. “I would say somewhere between three weeks and four months.”

“I can go get your friends, if you’d like. You don’t have to go through this alone,” the nurse offered.

I just shook my head. A single tear trailed down my cheek, but other than that I was able to keep all of my emotions buried deep. “No. They need to go. Dean has a game tomorrow.”

*****

SPN Tags: @missthang2734 @hugwinchester @iamnotsaneatall @angelicshinigami @youtubehelpsmesurvive @sgarrett49 @mogaruke @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @sandlee44 @goldenolaf25 @smoothdogsgirl @ocholove @valisiofdauntless @emoryhemsworth @carryonmyswansong @percussiongirl2017��@x-waywardaf-x @babynovak05 @kleinkariertebetrachter @akshi8278 @calaofnoldor @mylovelydame21 @sucker-09 @idksupernatural @miraclesoflove @i-should-prob-be-asleep @all-will-be-well-love @blueaura @anthoniastark @buckys-estrella

#dean x reader #sam x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #angst #tw: cancer #tw: hospital #tw: ed #I wrote this years ago when I was going through shit #And now that I've gone through worse shit #it turns out that I react the exact same way #but more aggressive lmao #aggressive isolation

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mango-pup · 6 months

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Went to the fracture clinic today, hoping I was going to get rid of the sling. That's not what happened. I get to keep the sling for another 4 weeks 😭.

I'm struggling with this idea. Like, is it the worst thing to happen ever? No. I will recover and it will be fine. But also, I wanna be doing stuff again. Even little baby stuff.

#dog #rottweiler #rottie #mango #tw: hospital #tw: bones #tw: fracture

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susartwork · 8 months

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Do you trust him?

Extra versions under the cut:

Background picture taken from Pinterest

#cw: hospital #tw: hospital #Or at least I think it's a hospital ;w;#That's what I wanted.#my art #undertale #undertale au #utmv #underwizard #sans #uw!sans #Canon scene we'll probably never see in comic.#Just know that he's committing his usual crimes (ФωФ )

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autumnwoodsdreamer · 6 months

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💛 the only light I’ll ever need 💛

messy little sketch of Din and Grogu from one of my favourite scenes of Anchors

(Painted version)

#this scene just plays over in my head okay #sorry the equipment isn’t more ✨star warsy✨ I just don’t picture it looking too different from an earth hospital #din djarin #grogu djarin #din & grogu #clan of two #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanart #no hearing aids because he didn’t have them yet by this point in the story #my art #autumnwoodsdreamer art #lift a sail #trigger warning: medical equipment #trigger warning: non-graphic injury #trigger warning: medical #tw: hospital #tw: injury

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mellaithwen · 1 year

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….I’m not saying I manifested the next episode but I diiiid make this manip way back in January ‘22 soooooo you’re welcome ;)

like don’t get me wrong it’s not my best work - nobody look too close (and listen turning Rob Lowe into Ryan was waaay harder than turning Ronen into Oliver even though I had to paint Oliver’s eyes closed) lmao but I digress

Thank you @homerforsure for sifting through over a year of tumblr messages to find it 😂

#distracting myself from writing Eddie by Buck’s bedside by showing you this instead lolllll #911 manip #911 fox #911 spoilers #<- obvs this is nOT REAL but given that I’m discussing it within the context of 6b’s lightning drama I just want to be safe #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #hurt buck #my beloved #911 fanart #buddie #tw: hospital #tw: intubation #uh sorry buck my beloved :)

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haydenthewitch · 1 month

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I'm so tired of being brave.

I'm so tired of putting on a face so that my pain isn't hurtful to others. I rember being six, sitting in a hospital room, smiling instead of crying becuse i didn't want my mom, or my grandparents, or my little sister who was only five at the time, to be sad. i was staring down a lifelong incurable inconvenience and smiling because i didn't know how hard it was gonna be.

and ever since then, i've been labeled "the brave little girl."

i'm so tired. I'm so sick of smiling. I'm so sick of telling everyone around me that i'm going to be okay. i'm so sick of pretending that diabeties and unknown pains aren't wearing me down. i'm so sick of pleasantries, of saying "i'm doing great!", of the presure not to bring down the mood. i'm so sick of college essays where i've claimed i'm perservering. I'm so sick of pressure to assure everyone else in the room while sitting in the hospital bed.

and it's not their fault tiny six year old me was repressing my true feelings and putting other people first. It's not their fault that they assume i'm naturally brave, naturally staring into a lifelong ailment and smiling down the barrel. i did that.

But i did that as a kid.

adult me is more tired. adult me is more honest. adult me understands that while i do not want others to be sad, their sadness about my circumstances is their problem to deal with and overcome. adult me knows that it's okay to be in pain, and their feelings on the matter is not my fault. if they are sad, it is not my fault.

i am a lot diffrent than the six year old "brave little girl" in the hospital bed. (for one, i'm not a girl, but gender issues aside for this post.) I am not little anymore, i don't have the energy to smile through the pain, and i am tired of being called "brave." it is no longer a complement, to me, to be called brave.

Because i wasn't ever brave. I wasn't facing my fears, I was just hiding how afraid i was because little me was a martar who believed the biggest form of love was hidden pain. I know NOW how unhelpful that is, and if nobody ever calls me brave again, i'll be happy.

#i'm so tired #and i hate being called brave #diabetes #type one diabetic #medical rant #rant #rant post #joint pain #disabled #type one diabetes #tw: hospital #chronic fatigue #chronically ill #chronic illness #chronic pain

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